‘What are you doing?’ I look at him. ‘I’m counting. You know I count. I do three things or five things. I get a lot of stuff done this way’. ‘Three or five?’ he responds. ‘I’ve explained this before’ I start with a sigh. ‘Three things done…Father, Son, Holy Spirit. The spiritual world orders my material world. Five things…Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. The secular in turn, helps order my spiritual, theological, material world’. He looks at me. ‘You’re nuts’. ‘Yes, I am. Determinedly so. Sign me up. Under the column labeled ‘nuts’ write my name in all caps’.
He looks out the window at the snow, the empty street, at the possibility of yet another day looming…working from home, talking in rectangles on Zoom, moving in smaller spaces and cramped quarters…’No, you’re not nuts…just creative in attempting to forge purpose, organization, movement and meaning out of ten months of shifting sands’.
I look at my lap. Time to stand up…’one!’…I throw the blanket off my lap…’two!’ I stand up. ‘Three!’ I switch off the reading room light. I head down the hallway to the stairs. ‘Hey! how many steps upstairs?’ he calls out. ‘Fifteen…five groups of three…so…sacred!’ I respond. He’s thinking. ‘Hey! How many steps into the cellar?’ ‘Thirteen’ I respond quickly. Silence. Now I’m thinking. ‘I haven’t decided what to do about the cellar. Thirteen is throwing me off’. Silence. ‘If you go downstairs twice, that’s two sets of thirteen, adding up to twenty-six’ he says. ‘Thirteen groups of two…Old Testament and New Testament’. I think about this for a minute. ‘Now who’s nuts?’ I query. ‘But I’ll think about it. I’ll think about it’.
690 Saint Paul 