I am writing this brief article to give you, beloved reader, a slightly better idea of the daily activities of a Johnson Intern. To accomplish this task in such small space is far from simple, so I will limit myself to the more major aspects of life as an Intern, as well as to a few poorly crafted attempts at levity.

The placement component of our Intern year is the most time-intensive; my Mondays through Thursdays are spent at People of Faith Against the Death Penalty. Here I work toward mobilizing North Carolina's faith community in order to pass a moratorium on — you guessed it — capital punishment in North Carolina. My efforts will be chiefly directed at key N.C. House districts and the organizations, mainly churches and grassroots associations, within those districts.

At home, we continue our discussion of significant topics. These considerations range from standard moral issues like abortion and pacifism to less frequented matters such as moral responsibility in local agriculture and business, as well as a whole host of other wide-ranging topics, the value of goodness and utility, why Martin Scorsese is the greatest director of all time, the place of reason in a life of faith, degrees of truth, why modern music can't hold a candle to the great rock-and-rollers of the 60s and 70s, and (quite frequently) why my sense of humor consistently fails to meet any acceptable standard of quality.

Other than discussion, we meet together for more experiential forms of worship: we engage in contemplative prayer, we go bowling, we plan community service projects, I humiliate myself while cooking, we help lead Sunday school or youth group, we read books, and we watch movies. Throughout all this, and despite our continued confusion about the nature of community, our sense of solidarity strengthens every day. The house at 504A Oak Avenue is no longer merely a place where five strangers happen to come together to live for a year; it is a place where colleagues learn and grow closer to one another, where friendships are forged in the fires of argument, of intimate prayer, and of faithful service to a world in perpetual and dire need of love, justice, and redemption. That's the goal, anyway.

An opportunity for you to read my befuddled prose may again present itself. Nevertheless, I want to take this opportunity, right now — on behalf of Tim, Marsha, Sarah, Katie and myself — to thank the Chapel of the Cross, its members, its staff, and its clergy for making this year possible for us: five unworthy and scarcely grateful young adults with nothing figured out and little to offer in return. Especially to Mary Agnes Rawlings, upon whose shoulders rests the burden of our activities and agenda, the five of us send our heartfelt thanks and appreciation.

Until next time, avid readers, I remain, your friend and fellow traveler on the road to that heavenly city,

Chris Taylor

Johnson Intern

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