Dangling conversation

 Dangling conversation 

Our rector, Susan,* was away again this past Sunday, leaving the visiting rector to introduce himself. And he was one of those that has to tell a congregation that doesn’t know him all about himself: He told where he came from and how he was formed in the faith. He told us where he’d gone next and what he’d done. He told us how he had come to be with us this morning and how much that meant to him (which surely he overstated). He stood before the table, filling his wheat-colored alb, holding the broad red book with the gospel lessons in their liturgical order; his Christ-the-King stole fell through neat loops in his cincture. His socks matched his stole, Uncle Albert said later. He’d noticed, kneeling at the rail, also that the guest rector's shoes looked expensive and new.

     He’d had a very interesting life, our guest rector wanted us to know, especially full of good deeds, he implied (without saying outright) as many as the coins in Scrooge McDuck’s vault. Still, he needed forgiveness. As we all do.** So he segued into his sermon from Luke 23. Carrying the book with him, he walked over to the pulpit. He put the book aside; he looked down and up again. And,

     There [he gestured] was Jesus on the cross, remarkably calm, forgiving all and sundry. He forgave those that had conspired and those that scoffed. He forgave those that were gaping and those that mocked, providing wine unfit to drink. All would be forgiven because none knew what he had done or was doing. And one of the thieves hanging with him - he was also forgiven because he seemed to have put his priorities in order.

At least, that’s Luke’s take. And the rector could go no further. (He paused at the “mystery.”) 
     But Jesus? - what he is thinking is not so clear. We can’t imagine how he can be so calm - and chatty - as if he found himself not hanging on a cross but leaning back on the couch in someone’s living room, Peter’s or Mary and Martha’s; the disciples have gathered around, and he’s telling them the parable of the hanged man.

     And when someone asks the point, Jesus shrugs. And for a moment, all wonder if this parable has one.

     But it must, they decide: Every parable must have its point. And they will figure it out. Soon enough they will be in charge, and they will figure it out.

11.26.19

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 * (The former Miss Virginia.) See here.

** If he does, how much more the rest of us, purblind schlubs (purdeaf and purdumb) in the hands of a God that has every right to be angry?