Faith

'What does faith mean to you?', W. asks. 'What could it possibly mean?' When W. was 13, despite the fact that he had not been brought up religiously, he demanded to be taken to church. It was a great moment, he says. It changed everything for his family, who started going to church themselves. But, like everything, it fell away. What happened? Where did it all go? How was he capable then of what is impossible for him now?

Sal thinks W.'s drifting back to religion. She gives him a year. – 'It's all this Rosenzweig', says W. 'It's very plausible'. And then: 'You need a religion. It would be a channel for your pathos'.

Of course, faith isn't about belief for Rosenzweig, W. says. It's got nothing to do with belief. Faith is an act – the act of speaking. – 'Speak to me', says W. 'Go on, say something! No, not about blowholes! Say something serious!' He should start, I tell W. He should set an example. But I drive every thought from W.'s head, he says. He can never be serious when I'm around.