Bonaventure’s Blind Spot

As I sat fidgeting in front of my laptop on Shrove Tuesday, I could feel my anxiety rising. I had done all the usual things to calm myself before teaching online: I had stilled myself and sat in silence for a little bit. Normally, being silent reduces my anxiety. This time, however, it did not work so well. The reason was that what I was about to do was not, strictly speaking, teaching. Nor was the group of people I was about to meet the tired-looking (and occasionally hungover) nineteen- and twenty-year-olds whom I normally teach. Instead, when I pressed the “admit all” button there appeared on my screen the cheerful faces of nearly thirty Franciscan sisters, mainly Poor Clares, all smiling and waving at me.