Gospel Matt and I are on the road, headed to Yale Divinity School and a theological conversation with Miroslav Volf. The last time I was on a road trip with Matt, there was snow pushing up against the bottom of the car. We hiked a hard ten miles and camped on a windswept ridge somewhere in West Virginia. He remembers it as The Death March. I remember it as The Night I Almost Froze to Death.
The accommodations here are much more hospitable, though we did take an unnecessarily long walk around New Haven this afternoon as a kind of remembrance of our past suffering.