All fire is the one fire

There’s a part of me who reads that earlier post and says, “Oh, come on, it’s just a fire. Don’t be so dramatic.” And, yes, that part of me still speaks up now and then. Poor thing. He just wants approval from all the “smart people”. I’ve had to remind him several times now that our life felt far too thin when we were attending to what the “smart people” had to say. He’s maturing, but he’s also good to have around because his raised eyebrow sometimes checks my worst enthusiasms. Anyway, why does imagining building a morning fire as priestly work appeal to me? It places what is a (fun but) everyday task in a context of sacred work. It elevates it and gives it meaning. But isn’t that meaning just made up in my head? It’s tempting at this point to quote Dumbledore: Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real? Except I don’t think that quite does it. Because, at this point, someone could hear that line and say, “Oh, yes, you…

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