By Edward
J. Calhoon Sr.
(Published
in Spring 2000 edition of InSpire,
by Princeton
Theological Seminary, Princeton, NJ)
Princeton
rises above
the
coastal plains
of
New Jersey
like
a medieval fortress town
transplanted
from Europe,
out
of place in it’s setting:
impressive
on first sight;
quaint
colonial history;
revolutionary
war battlefield;
gothic
spired university;
Georgian/Victorian
seminary
(my
abode long ago,
recently
returned Viet vet
studying
alongside
draft-dodging
divinity students);
Institute
of Advanced Studies
down
the street
Einstein
once walked
deep
in profound thought,
with
a burning pipe
in
his jacket pocket
(so
they say).
Home
of:
world-class
scholars,
some
saints and/or geniuses,
but
mostly
less-than-perfect
people;
undergraduate
students,
once
big fish in little ponds
now
floundering and gasping for air;
and
graduate students,
perhaps
amazed as I,
from
a minor-league school,
making
it to the Ivy League
awed
by the fancy footwork
of
academic all-stars.
I
went away to try on
the
robe and role of a cleric
finally
withdrawing
in
a classical calling crisis
feeling
failure for not finishing.
Twenty
years hence I returned:
first
for reunion;
next
year a seminar
on
spiritual life
not
taught in my student days.
I
saw again the allure
of
an academic oasis
nourishing
parched minds;
also
a new nurturing
of
the Spirit’s flame,
kept
aglow through centuries
of
dark nights of the soul.
in
name and fact
a
philosopher,
taught
timeless lessons
from
the classics,
including
catholic mystics.
He
may eventually retire,
but
such wisdom
is
never retired,
as
it is passed on
to
each generation
in
the hallowed halls
of
Princeton.