The Kids Aren't The Same

Gabriel García Márquez wrote that a person would know that they had become old when even the simplest things were told as a story. As an old person, then, I’d like to introduce you all to someone by way of a story. Back in December 2018, my priest sent an unassuming email message to me about a young man who was ready for a permanent family. A fellow parishioner had been mentoring the youth for a few years and was hoping that a member of our church family might be willing to  give the foster parent role a try. Would I be willing to meet them, the good reverend wanted to know, if only to let the Holy Spirit do what it might? I met Patrick a few days later, at a Christmas concert, where his sponsor Linda had brought him so that we all could meet. We went downstairs afterwards for dinner. We made small talk. About ten minutes into the conversation, I asked Patrick if he knew why I was there. "Yes," he said, "you want to be my foster dad." How did he feel about that...

The Episcopal liturgy is history lesson, poetry, and a celebration. Within it, we are called - literally - to acknowledge God, the world around us, and the people next to us. The liturgy does not waste opportunities. My favorite part of our service is the confession of sin. I know that may seem sanctimonious at best or creepy at worst, so want to focus on this phrase tucked into the confession: "and by what we have left undone." That line comes immediately after the confession of sins that had been committed ("by what we have done"). Committed sins are pretty easy to manage. They happened. We can quantify them -- remember those Seven Deadlies? -- because they are real: the hoarding of toys, the hurling of insults, the hatred of the Other. These we can picture in our minds, offer up an apology to God, along with a promise to learn from the mistake. Check the box. Breathe with relief. A sin not done? That is another story. It's where this story begins. "...