August 31, 2005

Bends

A couple of our friends came for supper the other evening. They’re moving soon.

He will enter seminary to weather out three of the waning years of his forties and lead on into the priesthood. She will continue her home computer-managed profession as an editor and writer. The both of them will adopt a new Chinese baby into their newly adopted home. Talk about a bend in one’s history.

After dinner, I invited my friend in to look over my theology library, to choose what books, if any, that he’d like to have, that I’d tell him whether he can have them, better said, whether I can part with them. He took quite a few. I managed to part with every one. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one. I shall miss them along with my friends, as well. It’s a kind of bend in my history, too.

My books and I have been together a long time, some of them for over fifty years. I’ve not read them all, but I have used most of them in one way or another. The big Greek-English lexicon, for example, also made a splendid doorstop. Quite a few of them came from my seminary days when a colleague and I who were in its founding class also started its bookstore — and our libraries. Every time a classmate would stop by to order a book, we’d inevitably order a copy for ourselves.

It is well that my friend can start his fifty years with some of my books. I’m surprised and pleased that he’d want any of them. I’m glad they can look forward to making a home in another parson’s library.

Heaven knows there are lots of newer and surely more refreshing spins on the Good News out there these days to keep these old books company. Jesus knows, too, and maybe even sometimes wonders about it all. John certainly did (Jn 21.25).

No Comments

RSS feed for comments on this post.