I can't get much out of the present except that it seems to be sort of me ... I seem to fill it ... especially with my thoughts ... my words ... I work at it till exhausted and somebody turns the switch off and I sleep ... now I have heard a good christian say what would any of this mean if it didn't get its meaning from the god of the past who made a promise ... what would the future mean without that promise ... the god of the past would be passed and surely left behind if he had nothing to say about the future ... and we would be dull rubber pictures if we had nothing to say in response ... fleeful fearful if having heard we choose to run away ... or having heard and obedient to the call determined faithful and full of hope and mission or what's a history for ... the little buddhas when I was young did not ply their trade well ... I was one ... the meaning of life was our call ... as if it hadn't been put on a cross for all to see and in the morning refuted
cf moltmann, theology of hope
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