|
Morning Devotion for the Season after Pentecost
September 25, 2024
James of Jerusalem
Reading: Matthew 13:54-58
He came to his home town and began to teach the people in their synagogue, so that they were astounded and said, ‘Where did this man get this wisdom and these deeds of power? Is not this the carpenter’s son? Is not his mother called Mary? And are not his brothers James and Joseph and Simon and Judas? And are not all his sisters with us? Where then did this man get all this?’ And they took offence at him. But Jesus said to them, ‘Prophets are not without honour except in their own country and in their own house.’ And he did not do many deeds of power there, because of their unbelief.
Meditation by Jeremy O’Neill
One of the things I love about the church is its unique ability to mark rites of passage. I have also become increasingly interested in the rites of passage that the church does not have a specific liturgy for. Starting my first “real job,” moving to a new city, and trying to build community are all fairly common significant experiences I have had in the past few months, and this past week I had another one: taking care of one’s parents.
For the first part of our lives, our parents or caretakers do everything for us: they support us financially, change our diapers, and provide us a place to live. Eventually there comes a point where the relationship is more mutual, and we have to help our parents and care for them. It felt like I hit that milestone this past week as I went to California to help my father as he recovers from hip-replacement surgery, and I felt like this transition in our relationship was at least worth noting in the same way we note other rites of passage.
Today’s reading contains one of my favorite lines of scripture: “Prophets are not without honor except in their own country and in their own house.” Leaving home, and then returning to care for ones family, is an experience many of us can share. And while Jesus is correct that sometimes we family to appreciate those closest to us, it reminds me that sometimes our home is the only place that we can be fully ourselves.
This brings me to a rite of passage I struggle the most with, and I really wish the church had a liturgy or prayers for it: Saying Goodbye. It is always such a joy to see loved ones, but I always find the goodbyes incredibly difficult. And it isn’t just people we have to say goodbye to, but also places, animals, communities, and stages of our lives.
At the end of my trip to be with my father, my partner Rachel (who is a chaplain at University of California San Francisco Children's Hospital) and I visited a place my dad and I have been hundreds of times: the Oakland Coliseum. Known colloquially as “Baseball’s Last Dive Bar,” the brutalist multisport stadium is home of the Oakland Athletics for a few more days before they depart for Las Vegas. I not only fell in love with baseball there, but it shaped my vision of church in some ways. A’s games were always full of the most random characters, and you’d get the sense that the Coliseum was a place where they could be themselves.
I hope church can be like that. We have our homes, but weekly we gather in a house that belongs to all of us and also to something greater than all of us. It is my prayer that church is place to find yourself and be yourself, as we all gather to bear witness to Joy.
As I watched the A’s loose to the Yankees, I thought of Right Field Will, Banjo Man, Kara, Bryan, Vanilla Gorilla, Dragon, Hal the Hotdog Guy, Amelia, Crazy Legs, and so many more characters who were apart of my childhood and beyond. It was hard to say goodbye to that space and those people, but I will cherish their memories as a sign of how much fun human beings can have together.
| 
