You CAN Go Home Again

I'm back at Big Old Seminary for a continuing ed thing funded by the good folks who bring you Prozac, The Lilly Foundation. About 2/3 of our class returned for this, which is a bit sad. I would have liked to see them all. Some good workshops, some great conversations with folks I love, some musing on next steps in my development as a priest, and the same refectory food that caused me to gain ten pounds in my first year there as a seminarian.

Random dots of this experience:

• you can tell we're Episcopalians: they converted the small dining room into a bar. Veddy English with dark mahogany. No liquor license yet, just wine and beer, but it's a classy place to sip your Pinot Grigio.
• we've all grown up a bit since we last saw each other. Some folks are more reflective, some are more verbal, some are more relaxed. A lovely thing to see, but I wonder how they perceive me? I feel mostly unchanged (except for girth), but I'm probably wrong about that.
  
• dorm beds suck. I am so glad I lived in off-campus housing.
• it is predictable who among us are thinking of PhDs and DMins and who wouldn't darken the doors of an academic institution except for a Con Ed class in a zillion years...and that's just fine.
• we all have redacted stories to tell. Oh boy, do we have stories to tell. Some sad, some joyful, but the church is a human institution. We work for the Big Guy, but we are not always so good at it.

I came up here grousing about having to spend a week away when I've got so much to do at the office, and now - unsurprisingly - I am so very grateful for the time and space to learn and breathe and talk with people whom I respect. God knows better than I do what I should do, as always....and I got an idea in the midst of this that will make Sunday's sermon a better one. FTW.