Brother Lawrence he's not...

Vonnegut again. Describing a day in which, with paper-clipped, type-written, pencil-marked pages in hand, he walks outdoors to buy a single envelope and then walk further to wait in line to purchase the exact postage to send it to a typist, a day in which he initiates random conversations about bluebirds and the lottery because "I love to talk to people," I hear echoes of my faith.

In a conversation he recounts with Joe, a young man from Pittsburg who pleads "Please tell me it will all be okay," Vonnegut responds:

'Welcome to Earth, young man,' I said. 'It's hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It's round and wet and crowded. At the outside, Joe, you've got about a hundred years here. There's only one rule that I know of: Goddamn it, Joe, you've got to be kind!'

OK, Brother Lawrence, he's not. Maybe it's the sleep deprivation, but this feels like an irreverant version of Life Together. As we seek God's presence, we will find it most completely not in seclusion, but among others. "A purely spiritual relationship is not only dangerous but also an altogether abnormal thing." And time among others will often feel unproductive and wasted if we focus our agenda on what we seek to accomplish. However, sometimes by farting around we genuinely encounter another person because we have put aside our agenda for that moment.