Several parishioners have told me a story I want to share. A 17-year-old boy wearing a cross necklace was shopping at a sporting goods store. The Muslim cashier asked him to put the cross under his shirt because it offended her. The manager got involved and told the boy to just put it under his shirt and everything would be fine. The customer refused and left without purchasing anything.
This story is not true but has provided some interesting discussions. I am going to suggest the hypothetical boy should have concealed the cross. Had the story been about an American flag lapel pin, I would say he should not hide it. Likewise, if government at any level told him to conceal his cross, I’d insist he wear it because we have the right of expression and religious freedom. In my opinion, however, this fictitious story says something different. It is not about a repressive government taking away a constitutionally guaranteed right. It is about a fictitious Muslim telling a fictitious Christian that the cross offends her, individual to individual and, as individuals, we are called to love the Lord our God and to love our neighbors. As a congregation, we are reading Jesus on the Margins – daily meditations on chapter 25 of Matthew’s Gospel. Therein, the righteous people ask, “When did we visit you in prison?” The response is, “When you did it to the least of my people, you did it to me.” As individuals, we give up certain rights to visit someone in prison such as privacy, bearing arms, speech and expression. In some ways, we become prisoners in order to visit prisoners. Would you argue if the guard told you to remove all jewelry, including your cross? Paul writes to the Church in Corinth that if eating meat causes a brother or sister to stumble, he will never eat meat again. (1 Cor 8:13) That seems like a prison Paul has created for himself in order to help those with weaker faith. At the diocesan Leadership Academy this past Saturday, Fr. Mark McCone-Sweet and I took off our clerical collars in a symbolic attempt to break down walls between clergy and laity. We also sang secular songs to reveal the power of Christ in our everyday lives. Did those actions make Mark and me less Christian or less priests? I hope not because we were trying to help people from stumbling because of rank and position. Christianity can be represented in different ways by how the teenager responds to the fictitious request from the Muslim cashier. If he conceals the cross because he is ashamed of the Gospel, that is one thing. If he refuses and tells the cashier to remove her head scarf one could say that Christ triumphs over all which is both true and representative of our faith history. Yet, quietly putting the cross under his shirt represents our faith, too, if he conceals it out of respect for another and to further Christian dialog. If after concealing the cross the teen asked, “Why does my cross offend you?” a meaningful spiritual conversation might follow. For example, if the cashier replied that to her the cross represents 15th century Spain and the convert-or-leave approach the Church took at that time, it would be a good opportunity for the teen to exhibit the Christian virtue of seeking forgiveness. And, that could open the door for the teen to share what the cross means to him. Speaking of spiritual conversations, if you’d like to talk about this, or if you’d like to talk about Jesus on the Margins, I’d be happy to listen to your thoughts. Let’s meet on Sunday right after church. -Fr. Marshall “When did we see you thirsty and give you something to drink?” Matthew 25:37
Despite the fact that we live in what seems like a desert, water flows all around us. There are drinking fountains in public places and virtually any restaurant will give out water if asked. In our day and time, when have we actually seen someone who was really thirsty? When have we been given the opportunity to give water to someone in need? For myself, I cannot really recall a single instance in which a truly thirsty stranger walked up to me and asked for water. In a way that is a shame because I am sure great blessings come to the giver in that situation. Below is a meditation written by someone I know, Richelle Thompson. It is from a daily meditation book, Meeting Jesus on the Margins, and is based on the above quoted Scripture from Matthew’s Gospel. She makes me rethink what a truly thirsty person is. Perhaps I have met thirsty people before. And I wonder, did I give them something to drink? As they settled into the pew, I began the spiel. I introduced myself and welcomed them to the church. I asked whether they had ever attended an Episcopal church before. When they said no, I launched into spiel, part 2. I explained that during Holy Eucharist, all baptized Christians were welcome to receive. I told them the options for intinction or common cup, how the congregation typically files to the altar rail and kneels. And I explained they could receive a blessing if they didn’t want to take communion. Then I asked if they had any questions. “Um, yes,” the wife murmured. “What’s a eucharist?” I had skipped right over the heart of the service and into the mechanics. It was like offering high heels to the barefoot. Or seltzer water to the thirsty. If folks don’t’ know about the body and bread of Christ – about this sacred meal that connects us to Christ – then they probably don’t understand instructions about whether to dip or sip. Most people in my social circle are church-going Christians. And if they don’t attend now, they used to, or are at least familiar with the traditions. But I too often forget that one in five Americans are, as the Pew Research Center states, “religiously unaffiliated.” More and more people are growing up without ever attending church. For them, the parables of Jesus aren’t rich examples of grace and love but social media memes and movie quotes. After all, I wonder how many know that Spiderman’s Uncle Ben was paraphrasing the Gospel of Luke when he cautioned his nephew, “With great power comes great responsibility.” The spiritual-but-not-religious, the religiously unaffiliated, are searching for meaning in their lives. They are thirsty, and Jesus is asking us to share in the living water. If you’d like to talk about this, or any other meditation, let’s get together right after church for some coffee and a chat. -Fr. Marshall Why
We are reading a book together for Lent – Meeting Jesus on the Margins. Below is the first meditation written by Mark Kinman. His reflection is a good rumination for thought in the days that follow Ash Wednesday, when we ponder what the meaning of Lent really is. The simplest question is the most useful: Why? We need always to be asking “Why?” and not letting our quickest answers, which are often deeply rooted in our prejudices, be our final answers. When we see someone using the steps of a public library as a bed at night, we need to ask “Why?” When we read a story about a transgender teenager committing suicide, we need to ask “Why?” When we go into a grocery store in an impoverished neighborhood and see a fully stocked liquor shelf and no fresh produce, we need to ask “Why?” When we learn we incarcerate a higher percentage of our citizens than any other nation in the world, we need to ask “Why?” When we see young people of color burn down the Quik Trip convenience store in Ferguson, Missouri, we need to ask “Why?” And as we embark on our Lenten journey, we need to ask “Why?” Our first answer, rooted in what we’ve always been taught, might be that we observe Lent as an exercise in self-flagellation, so that, in Paul’s words, we might not “think of ourselves more highly than we ought” (Romans 12:3). We might tend to think our Lenten observance is grounded in our unworthiness. If so, we need to dig deeper. The prayer at the beginning of our Ash Wednesday liturgy gives us the answer. We observe a holy Lent to remember Jesus’ gospel of “pardon and absolution.” Lent is not about confession and repentance as punishment but as a profound, grace-filled unburdening so that we might encounter the living Christ in all Christ’s abundant joy. Our Lenten journey should be viewed within the context of meeting Christ – meeting Christ right where he tells us he will be – in the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the naked, the sick, and the prisoner. It is a journey of seeing all those people as Jesus. Of asking “Why?” and not being satisfied with our first answer or realizing that those whom the world of power and privilege label as “them” are really the deepest and most sacred portion of “us.” If you’d like to ask why in a group, let’s get together after church, have some coffee, and talk about why. - Fr. Marshall Lent begins next week. In sharp contrast to the Super Bowl celebrations this Sunday, Lent is a season of penitence and fasting. Although that doesn’t sound like much fun, it is an important season for the Body of Christ.
In our Anglican tradition, we are invited to the observance of a holy Lent by self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial and reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. I’ve often wondered if this tradition is best served buffet-style. For instance, with my purple Lenten tray in hand, I’ll take a small scoop of self-examination so I can leave room on my plate for what I really like to eat – God’s Word. And, in a small bowl off to the side I’ll toss in some fasting and self-denial which, if I have room, I’ll eat (but probably dispose of with my tray at the end of the meal). Or, does our tradition mandate to all believers that we must repent, pray, fast, deny-oneself, and read God’s holy Word. I think that if you treat Lent like a buffet, or if you mandate your life around those tenets, you will be in a deeper walk with Jesus by Easter. Regardless of how you choose to treat Lent this year, I’m inviting you to read a book with me and the rest of the congregation, Meeting Jesus on the Margins. It consists of daily meditations on the 25th chapter of Matthew’s Gospel. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells how it will be at the end. God will separate all people into two groups. One group he invites into God’s kingdom because when he was hungry they gave him food; thirsty – they gave him something to drink; homeless – a place to stay; naked – they gave him clothes; sick and in prison – they visited him. The people asked, “When did you we see you hungry, thirsty, homeless, naked, sick or in prison.” The reply, “The truth is, anything you did for any of the least of my brothers and sisters here, you also did it to me.” To the other group… well, things didn’t turn out well for them because when they didn’t take care of the least of these, they didn’t take care of God. This is a challenging and inspiring chapter in Matthew’s Gospel. At times, I read this story and feel self-congratulatory because I did help someone. But other times I find myself ashamed of the times I didn’t help someone. Meeting Jesus in the Margins has daily meditations looking at different aspects of chapter 25. Each reflection provides boots-on-the-ground stories of serving and being served by the “least of these.” To read the first week, click here http://www.forwardmovement.org/Content/Site170/FilesSamples/180357978088028_00000099003.pdf I am inviting you not to read this book alone, but rather, let’s read it together. Each day know that other folks at Saint John’s (and around the country) are reading what you are and perhaps feeling what you feel when you read it. But, let’s not stop there. On Sunday, after services, let’s get together during fellowship time and talk about what we read the past week and perhaps what God is inspiring us to do. To order the five dollar book, click here http://www.forwardmovement.org/Products/2381/meeting-jesus-on-the-margins.aspx Regardless of buffet-style or strict mandate, we are called to do something for Lent. Let’s pray and reflect on God’s holy Word and see where God leads us into the world to serve in Jesus’ name. -Fr. Marshall |