During this time when my world shrinks and my physical coming and going is limited by a Covid19 shelter in place to rooms in my house, my mind wanders to a place far away.
Last November, I worshiped in a North Vietnamese church, so newly born it still glowed with the embers of its originating fire. Now, as the outward trappings of daily life tremble and crumble, the inward probes mysteries. What is eternal? What is true, especially when all that is “normal” proves false?
What I felt in that gray, cement building, buried in a Communist commune, was real. Real and true enough to light a flame in me.