I’ve begun reading Peter Berger’s A Rumor of Angels, probably for the third or fourth time. I haven’t read it in at least twelve years or so, probably longer. When I first read Berger, it was an excerpt in a philosophy of religion anthology, a portion of his Rumor of Angels that absolutely enthralled me. This would have been in 1997 or 1998, when I was chest-deep in my first Polish adventure and just coming to the conclusion that I wanted to do graduate studies in philosophy of religion.

Berger intrigued me because he posited that there are hints in our every-day existence that there is something beyond the material of this world. The hints — or rumors — are not the traditional Christian apologist’s arguments but refreshingly new ideas, like the suggestion that humor hints at a world beyond. I can’t remember all the “rumors” (i.e., arguments), and I thought I’d reread it.

What’s most interesting about it is how much I’ve changed since the first time I read it. Looking back at books after years of growth always fells like an embarrassing meeting of an old acquaintance, someone you should have stayed in touch with — at least that’s how you feel — but through time and distance became a stranger. I look at my marginal notes and wonder. I see my annotations and marvel at my naivete.