The wise old priest and I were looking deep into the flames in companionable amiability. That unspoken bond whenever two or more people gather around a fire. It’s been going for centuries now. The fire… a meeting place… a cooking place, an eating place, a safe place.
He was senior to me in years of age and certainly years of ordination, so I was respectful and said little. When I did speak I tried to choose my words very, very… carefully.
He looked up mischievously from over the flames caught my eye and simply said
‘I like fires Fr. David’ I think the right response for a junior cleric was ‘Oh yes’. Neither agreeing or disagreeing. You see how clever I thought I was.
Then in a flat monotone “Yeah… they remind me of hell’
Now I wasn’t really quite sure what the correct response should be. In fact I actually can’t quite remember how I replied, so dumbfounded was I by this bizarre turn in the conversation. I think he just giggled and I tried to chortle along with him… unsuccessfully. I mean, how did he know that hell was full of fire. Had he visited lately?