Long ago, before the Punic Wars when I went to college, my decision to go to the University of Maryland was based on practical considerations: I was paying for it, I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do, I could get in-state tuition, and it was driving distance from home. I thought I’d pick English as my major; my hard working father told me to pick again. So I picked Computer Science only to choose Chemical Engineering a semester later followed another change to Electrical Engineering. Eventually I received a B.S. degree from UM followed by an M.S. from JHU both in EE. I proudly display my diplomas in the cardboard tubes in which they were mailed.

Now only a few know that I have enrolled at the Notre Dame Graduate School to start work toward a Masters of Arts degree in Theology. It will probably take forever but no matter: this is something I want to study and it energizes me. Nothing wrong with engineering, but the impetus for learning that craft was duty and economy. My father was right—it has provided me with a very good living over the years. But sooner or later, the DNA of a certain organism will manifest no matter how many plastic surgeries and hormone treatments you give it.

So this week I started my first class—online. Because I am starting at zero, I have to take pre-requisite courses before I can begin to earn credit toward my degree–like I said, this will take forever. The first lecture was in two parts each about an hour in length which I watched over the course of a few days.

So used to secular academic instruction, I was totally blown away by the lecture—not by the topic or the material. What blew me away was the very tail end. After the last point was made and assignments were meted out, the professor crossed himself, bowed in prayer and said the Glory Be. He crossed again and then stepped away from the podium as if nothing unusual just happened. The video went black and I stared at my computer screen remembering that this wasn’t the godless University of Maryland where people of faith were routinely criticized and ridiculed by student and faculty alike. No, this was different—much, much different.

It’s good to be home.