... In The Long Run, There Can

I Could, Of Course, Have Done No More If No Less Than Affiliated Myself In One Way Or Another With A Particular Church, Could Have Simply Read Books About Christianity, Talked To Christian People, Set Out To Discover Something About What A Christian Life Is Supposed To Involve And Then Tried As Best I Could To Live One. But, On The One Hand, That Didn't Seem Enough To Me, And On The Other, It Seemed To Much.

In His Holy Flirtation With The World, God Occasionally Drops A Handkerchief. These Handkerchiefs Are Called Saints.

I'm Trying To Listen To My Past, Listen To What's Most Deeply Going On Inside Myself, My Creative Set Of Fictional Characters, A Fictional World - To Listen To That World, To Search.

Our Stories Are All Stories Of Searching. We Search For A Good Self To Be And For Good Work To Do. We Search To Become Human In A World That Tempts Us Always To Be Less Than Human Or Looks To Us To Be More. We Search To Love And To Be Loved. And In A World Where It Is Often Hard To Believe In Much Of Anything, We Search To Believe In Something Holy And Beautiful And Life-transcending That Will Give Meaning And Purpose To The Lives We Live.

Our Father. We Have Killed Him, And We Will Kill Him Again, And Our World Will Kill Him. And Yet He Is There. It Is He Who Listens At The Door. It Is He Who Is Coming. It Is Our Father Who Is About To Be Born. Through Jesus Christ Our Lord.