James Franklin Lowe… I have never answered to James, except to take pity on a substitute teacher. I have always been Franklin, except for when I was Frankie in middle school and Frank, during an ill-advised stint as an ATV instructor. I was Roo before I could spell my whole name, then Bud-Bud at home, and Prince Arrogant once my personality set in. In the classroom, I was Mr. Lowe. More recently, I have started using Fin for making reservations or ordering take-away. An ex gave me this nickname as a gift (the F and in from Franklin ingeniously turned into Fin…he was so proud of himself,) and I find it much easier to pronounce on the phone or whilst shouting at a hostess.
Now, I am setting off for a year as Brother Fin. Plenty of the past comes with me, least of all a nickname, but the year ahead seems uncomprehendable from this side of time, this side of the Atlantic, and this side of my membership in the Community of St. Anselm.
Admittedly, I do not think members of the Community of St. Anselm use titles or honorifics — we do not take any vows or Holy Orders, rather we commit to a Rule of Life and to one another — but I don’t think much harm can come from referring to myself as Brother Fin. At least not with you, dear readers. I hope you will join me this year, following my inconsistent musings. My fears will be on full display, I can assure you, but also the beauty of the experiences I expect to have: conversations with my Siblings, hours spent in prayer and meditation, silence, loads of silence, weekend trips to museums around London, sightings of the Archbishop and of anyone in the line of succession. In return, I hope you will send my your own updates — facets of your life or community for which I can pray. You are part of my people, and you will certainly be in my heart. But a little reminder, a name maybe, or any details you would like to share, will help me feel even closer to you and those for whom you care.
Grace and Peace, dear readers, and welcome to a year in God’s time.


Dear Brother Fin–
I wish you many blessings and a year of quiet contemplation. I hope you read a lot and write a lot, too.
Love,
Mrs. Rabun
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