Showing items filed under “The Rev. Canon Dr. Victor Lee Austin”

One of Those Very Religious Persons

 About 20 of us were there for come-and-go breakfast. She was from Holland, about ten years younger than I. I had learned that Dutch folk tend to learn to mimic accents; she, certainly, could pass as an American when she was speaking English to me. And it came to the question, What do you do back in Texas? “I’m a priest in the Episcopal Church—it’s part of the Anglican Communion, originating in the Church of England; I’m anglicano.” She seemed surprised. She said, “So you’re one of those very religious persons.”

Later I wondered about the “very” in that sentence. Normally, I would hear “those very religious persons” as a slight, a negative characterization, like “You’re one of those people who are crazy about the history of Dr. Pepper,” for instance; as if I were a person who spent too much time with stuff that had no importance to real life. (It wasn’t she, but there was another peregrino who had recently spent time in Waco. I asked her if she had visited the Dr. Pepper museum. The answer was affirmative.) But from my Dutch fellow pilgrim, I think there was no slight intended. She was just stunned, surprised; I’m not sure she had ever talked with a priest before.

I had mentioned being at a conference; she asked what the conference was; I said it was in Christian ethics, sponsored by the academic society, the Society of Christian Ethics. She asked what that was. I started to explain the workings of the society, but she interrupted. “No, not that; what’s Christian ethics?” 

We who are Christians can forget that there are vast groups of people who have no awareness of the meaning or the contemporary practice of Christianity; who find the idea of “Christian ethics” as impenetrable as the idea of “Christian algebra” or “Christian baking.” Ethics is real stuff, whereas (for many) Christianity is old superstitious thinking that does not connect with reality. 

Yet she was walking the Camino. She was—is—an uplifting presence in a group, with helpful ideas and a positive attitude towards blisters and other afflictions of life. And here she is, drawn to make this walk along with, in effect, representatives of the whole human race. I’ve said it before: everyone is on the Camino. Yet on the Camino most people walk past the many churches, many crosses, even though we are all walking to what may be the grave of one of the apostles who walked and talked with Jesus. 

Of course it’s not just other people who don’t get the big picture. I too am ignorant of much about Christianity, including its history on this Iberian peninsula on the southwest corner of Europe. These churches we walk past are mostly empty and often closed. In a city of five thousand people today there may be four large Catholic church buildings, each seating hundreds of people, but none ever actually seating even one hundred. An American thinks: these are redundant churches; some should be closed so that resources could be focused on preserving and building up the others. But I don’t live in a country that had church services nearly two thousand years ago. All those “extra” churches testify to a past when Christianity was very different from today, when people were different, when common assumptions could be made that are impossible now. What’s a strength? What’s a weakness? Were they better off? Are we better off? I don’t know. I wonder. I marvel.

I hope the Dutch woman gets a bit more Christian understanding as we move closer to Santiago. I hope that for all of us pilgrims.

Photo: "Where Christianity is old: This font was used for baptisms about 1000 years ago. Today it is in the church of S. Juan Batista in Granon, Spain, on the Camino Frances."

Old Clothes

 It was a morning cooler than usual. Like me, she is an early riser; unlike me, she takes long walks to get there. As happens also in church, in the coffee shop we have our regular seats. We know each other’s name but don’t talk much. On this morning, as she gathered up her things to go, I noted her interesting jacket. Yes, she said; she showed me the back as well—it was covered with small embroidery, rather fancy for the Katy Trail. “I’ve had it for 30 years but mostly it just hung in my closet. Then I said to myself, When do I think I’m going to wear it? After I’m dead?” So, being very clearly alive, she is wearing it.

I had some T-shirts from 40 or 50 years ago—three of them even older than that. I had seldom worn them. They were mementos of places I had been and places my in-laws had been (as in, “they got to see the Galapagos, I got the T-shirt”). (Though I do like the T-shirt.) How many times had I moved these basically unworn garments? I can think of at least six. After the last, I decided to start wearing them. They are wearing out now, one by one being turned into rags.

What had I been waiting for? It was foolish not to enjoy them, foolish to think that they were mementos that should be eternally preserved. 

On the other hand, there was great enjoyment had by my coffee shop companion as she wore that nice jacket. Had she worn it out earlier, she would have missed this current satisfaction. It was like a piece of the last century that suddenly appeared, aglow with the crisp lustre of being new while simultaneously being a gift of the past; it was like two different periods of her life being present at the same time. 

 Then I realized the same: when I wear that Galapagos T-shirt, I am bringing my wife’s parents back into the present moment, remembering their love of archeology and biological science while also remembering their love of a rather young son-in-law and of our fledgling children.

 A guy in line at that coffee shop asked me if I had been to the Galapagos. “No,” I grinned; “my wife’s parents gave me the T-shirt.” He had lived in Ecuador and said that, while he didn’t have the T-shirt, he had seen the Galapagos. They are, to all reports, worth seeing.

But more important, I think, than traveling to visit interesting places, is the work of putting our lives together as a coherent thing. It’s so easy to think of our lives as a bunch of episodes that happen to have followed one after another, but what is it that knits our whole life together? How can each of our lives be (by God’s grace) one narrative, one story? Maybe it is good to save some things—not for ever, but for future use. We won’t use them after we’re dead! There is likely something in your closet right now that you could bring out and start wearing.

Putting the pieces of your life together is part of the work of being a pilgrim, whether you do it in Spain or in Texas or somewhere else. What is God doing with your life? What is the story that holds your life together? It’s a good question to ask.    

 And there might be a clue waiting for you in your closet. 

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The Rev. Canon Victor Lee Austin. Ph.D., is the Theologian-in-Residence for the diocese and is the author of several books including, "Friendship: The Heart of Being Human" and "A Post-Covid Catechesis.: