The Theologian Of Assurano

People say when our theologian Lysander speaks no one can think other thoughts. He raises us all to a region of awe. His words spill over the lectern or pulpit into our rapt hearing, and we see his images in our minds covered with a silver light. I have witnessed that silver light in my neighbors' eyes and they in mine. We are aware of this glowing for hours afterwards. The next day we have sweet memories of it, but cannot find anything to match in sunlight or even starlight. I try to recapture the illumination by reading Thomas Aquinas. It helps. Lysander himself and others have lectured on this issue. It doesn't help. But one thing is abundantly clear to us: Lysander can do more moral good with his words than most of our leaders do with their whole lives. This is the part that puzzles me: Lysander never looks happy. Never. Not with his adoring students, not with his fellow theologians, and most dismaying, not with the average citizen whose life he has so enriched. Lysander usually stands apart, he does not look approachable, but people of all ages seek him out for personal advice, which he gives graciously but not smilingly. His students revere him but admit they know nothing about Lysander the man, the possible friend. They only know the charismatic professor. And ordinary people, who have no theology or book learning, still honor him for bringing prestige to the Assurano University, for bringing people into our city, who come for his lecture but stay and buy our food and hospitality. Are we not meant to show joy and thanksgiving? Why does Lysander remain so remote and unaffected? Sometimes it makes me question my joy... And, I hesitate to say this, the glorious silver light. Oh, why must happiness be vexed with doubt? Lysander, your smile would release us from this doubt.