The Yoke Is On You!

Shortly after I was called to the position of Executive Director of William Penn House, a Quaker-related seminar center on Capitol Hill, I visited the Friends Meeting of Washington, the Quaker “church” in the city.  While I was there, someone asked me if I were a Quaker.  I replied that I was ordained in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and that I had no plans to switch affiliations.  Her response was, “Famous last words.”

The nine years I held that job, associating with Friends from across the nation on a daily basis, had an effect on me.  While I did not officially become a Quaker, I came to deeply appreciate their traditions and approaches to spiritual matters.  And now that I am no longer affiliated with the Disciples church in any way (apart from my monthly pension!), I consider myself at least a fellow traveler with them, due to the influence they had on me all those years ago.

There are, of course, books written about what it means to be Quaker, but a shorthand version can be found in the acronym SPICE:  Simplicity, Peace, Integrity, Community, and Equality.  Those values characterize the movement known as The Religious Society of Friends, and they point to an uplifting spirituality.

In the Gospel of Matthew, chapter 11, John the Baptist was in prison.  He received word from his followers about the activities of Jesus and sent word through them to ask Jesus if he was “the one who is to come,” that is, the Messiah.  Jesus told them, “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, those with a skin disease are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them.”

Jesus issued an invitation to the people who heard him that day: “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

In essence, he said his influence brought positivity to a person’s life and to the life of the world.  Positivity infuses a lot of peace into life situations.

I remember a few words spoken by Martin Luther King, Jr. when his nonviolence approach to the bigotry and oppression experienced by people of color in this country came under criticism, even attack, from more militant civil rights activists.  When some were saying, “Burn, baby, burn,” Dr. King’s response was “Build, baby, build. Organize, baby, organize.”

It seems to me that destructive attitudes and behaviors become more and more burdensome as they proliferate, even taking over one’s mindset and life.  The heaviness of hatred has such a negative pull on one’s soul, like a downward spiral pulling a person deeper and deeper into an inescapable abyss.  Separation from others as “alien,” “unworthy,” “inferior,” “un-Godly,” or however one describes “them” limits not only the possibilities of life for “them,” but also for oneself.  The world shrinks when fear, paranoia, and bitterness grow.  Those who think they are “protecting their position” are constantly on edge, defensive, and negatively obsessed. Tearing down others in an attempt to lift up oneself does not accomplish its objective.

Brokenness within the human family is not peace.

Fortunately, there are many people – of varying spiritual backgrounds, races, genders, nationalities, sexual preferences, even political persuasions -- who embrace, exhibit and expound positivity.  No matter what or who influences their attitudes and actions, I am willing to guess that they generally experience the “rest for their souls” and the easing of “burdens” that Jesus described for those who “yoke” themselves with him.

As members of the local YWCA, my wife and I are connected to an organization that seeks the uplift of all people, human connectedness, and peace.  The particular chapter to which we belong was the site of a speech by Eleanor Roosevelt when she visited our city in 1956.  Ms. Roosevelt would only speak to integrated audiences, and after checking with a large public venue, schools, and churches in the area, organizers decided to hold the event in the gymnasium at the YWCA.

When we make our regular trips to the YWCA we often encounter a man who works there.  He is in charge of security but seems to do just about anything and everything else.  His name is Charlton, and he always greets us and others with a smile and positive comments.

Charlton is African American, retired from the city police force and seems to be in constant motion.  My suspicion is he is not well-educated or well-to-do in a financial sense, but everyone he sees is a friend – man or woman, young, old, black, white, Asian, Hispanic, or any other ethnicity or religion. 

Positivity is what he brings every day, and it has its effect on people.  His genuine demeanor reflects the values of the YWCA, and his presence lightens burdens and gives people rest.  

I don’t know what influenced Charlton, or the YWCA founders, to be the people they became, but because of that influence, blessings abound.

Infallible and Literal? Nah...

An online article about the Southern Baptists and the issue of the ordination of women as pastors spurred me to make this response, which I posted in the comments section of the article:

In the Bible, women were the first witnesses to the Resurrection, telling the men who were fearful and hiding, and in at least one of the four DIFFERENT biblical stories of the Resurrection, the men dismissed what the women said.  The Bible also says God placed a dome over the earth at Creation. 

The Bible has to be interpreted with some thought, not blindly accepted word for word.  It was written in a far different time and culture, in languages that don't always necessarily translate directly into English, and has been "translated" by people with their own agendas. 

The books of the Bible were gathered and judged to be "scriptural" over 1,000 or more years by councils made up of people - men - who accepted some writings and rejected others.  The writings that were accepted by the numerous councils over the centuries were written by people giving expression to their faith.  They weren't "writing the Bible." 

We have to do the best we can to understand that expression, given the difficulties in translation and cultural awareness.  Taking it literally at every point, accepting it blindly, and condemning those who choose to be more thoughtful is lazy and irresponsible.  There is no virtue in venerating a book as a matter of faith.  In fact, that becomes idolatry, which runs counter to teachings within the book itself.

In Whom Or What Do You Trust?

In one of the congregations of which I was the pastor there was a continual tension over the presence and use of the American flag in the sanctuary.  It wasn’t an open conflict that threatened the stability of the church, but the tension was there.

As a pastor I chose to downplay the significance of the flag in the church.  There were several members, some of them veterans, some not, who wanted to elevate the flag’s prominence.  To me, its mere presence in the building was more than enough prominence, but I chose not to make it a defining issue of my time there.

I would not, however, allow the American flag to have any place in the rituals or traditions of worship.  From time to time, someone would suggest we incorporate the flag into our services on certain occasions, but I refused to do so.  When we had a Boy Scout Sunday, the scout leader, not a member of the church, offered to “present the colors” at the start of the service.  I declined.

Sometimes there was rumbling on weekends near patriotic holidays.  At another church, an older woman complained that we didn’t sing “military” hymns, and a couple of times someone asked why we didn’t “celebrate patriotic holidays.”

My only concessions to such matters were to ask veterans to stand and be recognized on Sundays close to Veterans Day, and to have the congregation sing “God Bless America” at similar times.  Both, however, were done prior to the beginning of worship.

One person tried, unsuccessfully, to get me to read a book explaining why the United States was a “Christian nation.”  It was by Glenn Beck, and he sold the book on his TV show, imploring his devotees to get the book in the hands of clergy. 

A few years later someone else told me that “all the history books” say we’re a Christian nation.  I countered with, “But the Founding Fathers themselves weren’t Christians.  They were deists.”  To my surprise, the person accepted that fact, and when I followed up by saying, “If they were deists, how and why would they establish the country as Christian?” “Touche’,” was the response.

In another town where I worked as a pastor, the newspaper published an article by a person who ministered in a local congregation.  In the article, the argument was made that we were a Christian nation, and the proof was in our system of laws, “such as capital punishment.”  First, of all, capital punishment was against the law in that particular state, and secondly, there is no Christian basis for the practice. 

I wrote a “letter to the editor” rebutting the article and gathered the signatures of a dozen or so of my colleagues in the area to back me up.  While the letter was published in the newspaper, to my chagrin it was signed Greg Howell, (one other pastor’s name), and “12 more ministers” who went unnamed.  I was surprised – and disappointed - by one or two of the clergy in the community who agreed with me but were afraid to put their names to the letter.

It is fine if people choose to celebrate America in secular events and through secular organizations, but linking it with the church and Christian faith gets into dangerous territory, and attempts at infusing the flag, the nation’s chief icon, into religious ritual is simply inappropriate.  There is no connection between any nation’s flag and Christianity, and attempts at forcing a connection lead to idolatry.  The faith is much larger than all of that.

Today I read an online article from Newsweek that gave me some small bit of encouragement.  Titled, “Preachers to Stand Up to ‘Hijacking’ of Faith by Christian Nationalists,” the article states, “Christian organizations are calling on pastors across the country to stand up against the rise of Christian nationalism during their church services next weekend. 

“The ‘Preach and Pray to Confront Christian Nationalism’ initiative is the latest event sponsored by Faithful America, an online community of progressive Christians that aim to combat the use of their faith being "hijacked" by the political right.”

I admit I never heard of the group Faithful America, but I am fully supportive of this effort.  I will be listening closely to hear if the pastor of the church I attend follows this guidance. 

The hijacking of the Christian faith is evident in frightening ways:  from the former president saying he has “done more for Christianity than anyone” after asking why the police couldn’t shoot the protestors outside the White House before he and his lackeys marched across the street so he could get a photo op of himself standing in front of a church he never attended, holding a book I doubt he has read; from right-wing “pastors” calling for homosexuals to be killed; and, state legislatures attempting to pass laws making the Bible the state book, or making Christianity that state’s “official” religion, and so on.

It seems to me that if the United States were a “Christian nation,” we would be doing a whole lot better at making sure food insecurity was not an issue for so many millions of people; racism and bigotry would be not only virtually eliminated, but would be vilified for the destructive forces they are; our dependence on war and weapons to steal resources from poorer nations in order to support the affluence of the “upper crust” would become unacceptable; the steady movement toward fascism would not be occurring, and the quality of love embodied by Jesus would overwhelm temptations toward hatred and division within the human family.

When I was an impressionable young person growing up during the Civil Rights Movement and Vietnam war era, I was struck by the fact that leaders of the movement were clergy and that the church played such a significant role in helping oppressed people claim their rights and the reality of their equality.  Some of the same clergy and other religious leaders spoke publicly against the war and the unjust practices associated with it.

That gave me the idea that maybe the Christian faith actually had some application to the difficult struggles of people in the world, and when I discerned a call to ministry myself, that idea became even more important to me.

As I understand this idea, it demands a large view of what the faith is all about.  It demands that following Jesus is more important than trying to somehow make sure I “go to heaven” when I die, or that other people must adopt my particular religion.  It demands care and concern for those who suffer, are oppressed, or otherwise forced out of the abundant life for all of God’s children to which Jesus devoted himself.

The political right, religious right, whatever term one uses for those who limit the scope and reach of the faith, have it all wrong.  Division, hatred, nationalism, oppression, and murderous threats are not Christian values.  These notions and practices do not reflect Jesus’ teachings and actions.  They are an offense to God, and an embarrassment to a nation which people claim they love.

Such A Waste

Palm Sunday can be a bit of a challenge for preachers.  Do you focus on the “passion” stories of Jesus as a lead-up to Easter, recounting his anger over the ways and challenges of the religious authorities and his responses to them?  Do you mention the confusion and betrayal of Jesus’ closest followers?  Do you take the approach of describing in some detail his agony as his prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane and the drama of his arrest? Do you go over his interactions with Pilate?  Do you speak of his humiliation and suffering at the hands the Romans?  OR, do you take the easy way out and regale the congregation with tales of his “triumphant entry into Jerusalem,” with people waving palm branches and shouting “Hosanna!” as Jesus rides a donkey, conveniently skimming over the imagery and significance of what happened that day? 

True, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday provide opportunities to dwell on some of the darker aspects of the story, but then, many church folks don’t attend services on those days.  There are, of course, some people who only put in an appearance in the sanctuary on Christmas Eve and Easter, and MAYBE Palm Sunday. 

The Palm Sunday sermon I heard this year began with a very somber description of how the preacher picked up her teen-aged daughter from school the day of the Nashville mass school shooting so she could tell her daughter what happened.  She didn’t want her daughter to hear it from someone else and wanted to know her feelings about what happened. 

Then she spoke of how mass shootings in the nation already just about outnumber the days of the year so far.  “We have gotten used to mass shootings happening so regularly.  It has become almost a normality for us, and after an initial reaction of outrage or anger or fear, we move on with our lives.” 

True enough, but I found the rest of the sermon and worship service that day to be offensive. 

After putting everyone on edge, causing strong emotions, the preacher then awkwardly made the point that really, in the end, somehow, everything would be alright.  Tell that to the family members of the children and others torn apart by rapid-fire blasts from assault rifles.  Tell that to the teachers and school administrators who have to contend with the aftermath of attacks in their buildings.  Tell that to police officers and other emergency personnel who get the frantic calls to which they must respond, or to the doctors, nurses and other hospital staff who deal with the physical results, and to counselors who must contend with the mental health implications of the carnage.  “God loves you” or “God will make things right in the end” are not sufficient responses to any of this. 

I waited in vain during that worship service for word on how the community of faith, followers of Jesus, can, might, should respond to gun violence.  After the “sermon,” the service proceeded as normal, with singing, pre-printed prayers (none of which referred to gun violence or its growing numbers of victims), communion, the “passing of the peace,” and the rest of the tired rituals.  

How about mentioning ways to get involved in the issue that is literally breaking up families, fomenting fear, and increasing the negativity that closes in on us from so many directions? 

Do people of faith have a response to gun violence?  Or do we just go to church, follow well-worn patterns of words and gestures, get our pat on the head assuring us we’re “going to heaven,” then leave and go about our daily lives as if nothing has changed in us or in the world? 

Personally, I believe the preacher was afraid of offending any of the privileged people that make up a huge proportion of the congregation.  My guess is that many of the attenders affiliate with the political party most closely aligned with guns and the “protection” of “gun rights.” 

She could have said to contact our legislators and let them know that we abhor the continuing violence and easy (and increasingly easier) access to assault weapons.  There was no need to harp on the fact that Republicans are blocking any possibility of gun reform in Congress, or that our particular Senators and Congressman belong to the gun party.  She could just have said, “Let them know how you feel,” or she could have called for the congregation to organize a letter-writing campaign to keep up the pressure on those who are trading the lives of our children for campaign contributions from the NRA. 

She could have said, “Let’s work with other congregations in our city to raise the issue of gun violence by holding a seminar or forum to discuss the issue, bringing in police, school officials and others who have a stake in the health and safety of our young people.” 

She could have said, “Let’s hold a rally downtown and invite the local media to help us get out the word that the faith community has had enough of gun violence.” 

She could have said, “Let’s work with the police and city officials to pass a local ordinance to make it more difficult to purchase guns, or to increase penalties for those who commit gun violence.” 

She could have said, “Remember the pain and suffering caused by gun violence when you vote.” 

She could have said SOMETHING that would nudge or even inspire the people in the pews to get involved in the issue and move beyond feeling sad for a while. 

But that never happened. 

We just continued in the worship service as if nothing were different from the prior Sunday.  We went through our familiar, comfortable motions, then left and went out to eat, or went home and turned on the game. 

Now, we’re thinking ahead to maybe gathering with some family members and going to church for the big Easter celebration, including the Easter Egg Hunt, perhaps giving our kids gifts “from” the Easter Bunny, their having been photographed with him/her at the mall. 

Then, we’ll move on to other things. 

Maybe after the next school shooting we’ll think to send our thoughts and prayers.

Do We Get Him?

The day following the Super Bowl, as I scrolled through news stories included on the MSN website, there was one about the “He Gets Us” commercials shown during the game.  Apparently, Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (D-NY) tweeted her objections to the message of the ad, which in essence supposedly conveys the message that Jesus Christ understands what we go through in life. AOC, as she is known, understood the ad to somehow promote a fascist agenda. 

I really didn’t spend any time trying to guess what she meant by that, but in reading comments posted in response to the article I came across one that said something to the effect that “most US-based Christian churches” promote bigotry and also spread a message known as the “prosperity gospel.”  This message has to do with claiming that if you believe in God, and, by the way, donate money to the evangelist who preaches this approach, God will bless you with material riches and exemption from physical maladies.  Understandably, this is a popular approach to religion among some folks.

Of course, both notions, that “most US-based Christian churches” push bigotry and the “prosperity gospel,” and the “prosperity gospel” itself, are absurd and patently false.

Yes, there are preachers who make a living selling the “prosperity gospel,” and some churches tend toward bigotry.  Christian scripture, theology, tradition, and so forth, however, have nothing to do with either.

Sadly, though, it seems to me that many “US-based Christian churches” have lost their way.  When I read the teachings of Jesus in the New Testament Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke and John), I find that Jesus commanded love for one another, including the neighbor and the enemy.  I understand that “love” to mean not only desiring what is best for others, whoever they may be, but acting accordingly in one’s relationships and interactions, in choosing priorities, in being stewards of one’s resources, and even in making sacrifices and voting in ways that reflect this love – not an easy approach to life.

I have observed, however, that many “US-based Christian churches” are disproportionately insular and self-focused, hoping to find the way to “go to heaven,” barely dabbling in the love that Jesus personified, and choosing largely to be consumed with the congregation’s organizational and “survival” functions.  There also is much contention within and among many “US-based Christian churches” over differences in Biblical interpretation, i.e., “beliefs,” and how all of that applies to contemporary hot-button issues.  This, of course, lends itself to division and alienation rather than unity (which is not uniformity) among those who say they follow Jesus.

The Gospel writings portray Jesus as often taking issue with how the respectable religious folks of his day spent their time and energy.  When compassion and the love he promoted took a back seat, Jesus did not fulfill the fantasies of many that he was “the world’s nicest man.”

Years ago, one of the national magazines had a cover story about how Jesus is portrayed around the world.  Looking at the images on the front of the magazine it became clear that people from every continent saw Jesus as looking like themselves.  There were black, brown and white depictions of Jesus.  Some had brown eyes, some blue, even some had hazel.  His hair was represented in various shades and lengths, as well.

It certainly seems understandable that this would be the case, but of course, the self-depictions of Jesus do not end there.  For some in our part of the world, Jesus is the embodiment of right-wing paranoia, for others he is a radical revolutionary.  There are various degrees in-between, as well. 

Fortunately, there are followers of Jesus that take the message of love to heart and are faithful in trying to live into it.

Individuals and congregations find ways to share in the love of Jesus beyond writing checks from their excess. Giving of their time and abilities, for some even through their professional lives, lifting neighbor and enemy who suffer from loneliness, physical difficulties, poverty, trauma, hunger, discrimination, and other harsh realities of life, people act because their faith compels them to do so. 

February 22 is Ash Wednesday, kicking off the Christian season of Lent.  Part of this observance for countless Christians is the Lenten “fast,” a way to recall Jesus’ time in the wilderness following his baptism.  The Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke) report that the voice of God was heard after Jesus was baptized, proclaiming him to be God’s “beloved” son, and that God was “well pleased” with him.  Then, the Gospels tell us, Jesus was whisked by the Holy Spirit out to the desert where he spent forty days fasting and sorting out the meaning of what God said about him.  This was described as his facing temptations about the use of God-like powers and abilities, and protection from physical suffering.

Today’s fasts during Lent take less grand form and scale.  For some, it’s a time to forsake the consumption of whatever gives them pleasure; others vow to stay away from social media or even television for forty days.  Whatever one “gives up for Lent,” the idea is to make room for focused attention on God, or Jesus, or one’s faith commitments through spiritual disciplines such as prayer, devotion, Bible study, or maybe journaling.

At the end of Lent, and the forty days of “fasting,” one then is ready to embrace and celebrate the new life found in the risen Christ.

All well and good.

Of course, at the end of his fast in the wilderness, Jesus did not take up the powers and abilities that would raise him to top-of-the-heap worldly glory, wealth and political preeminence.  He set out on his work, reading aloud from the scrolls in a synagogue worship service the words of the prophet Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.  He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Jesus told the gathered congregation, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”  Read Luke 4 and you will see that things got dicey for him right from the start.

It seems to me that our “fasts,” whatever form they may take, first of all, seem a bit mundane.  Maybe they are helpful to promote spiritual growth for some people during the season.  But secondly, I wonder about the point of it all if when Lent and Easter have passed, we just return to our prior behaviors.  Do we simply engage in religious exercises for a few weeks then move on to something else unchanged by the observance of Lent?

In other words, while ads on Super Bowl Sunday proclaim, “He gets us,” do we get him?

Maybe our fast should include such notions as finding ways to put aside the idea of being “right” about God, or Jesus, or morality while we are assured “they” are wrong, keeping an open mind and heart to the possibility there is more to faithfulness than even we understand, or that our assumptions may be insufficient.

Perhaps seeking to simplify our lives would make more room for embracing the example of Jesus, being mindful that whatever we acquire or consume or waste, when we have so much, squeezes someone else from having needs met.  That seems an appropriate fast for Lent that can continue after we put back in storage the accoutrements of Easter for another year.

After his baptism Jesus wrestled with how to be God’s “beloved son.”  When he came to terms with all of that, he began living into it.  Immediately, – again, read Luke 4 – he discovered it would not be easy.

His devotion, spiritual practice and discipline, however, benefitted him along the rough road on which he found himself and informed him as he made choices and faced temptations and challenges.  His desert fast following his baptism set him on the path to faithfulness.

Maybe we can undertake a fast that will do the same for us and enable us to be disciples of Jesus with whom God is well pleased. 

Four Hundred Words From Julian Bond

After the recent debacle in the House of Representatives, and the priorities of many of our Republican lawmakers in both chambers, and in statehouses across the nation, the following words from the late Julian Bond apply.  In a 1995 speech concerning the prior year's election, Newt Gingrich's "Contract for America," and the devastating effects of the Reagan and Bush administrations, Bond spoke in terms relevant to today:

“Now the forces of evil threaten America again.  Will we turn back the clock to the days when the poor paid more taxes than the rich?  That's what they've promised to do.

Will we go back to the days when the Department of Justice was the Department for Defending White Privilege?  That's what they've promised to do.

Will we go back to the days when the deficit grew and the dollar shrank, when the people were jobless and the banks were failing, when the rich got richer and the poor got poorer?  That's what they've promised to do.

Will we go back to the days when division was celebrated and diversity was denied, when blacks and browns and women had to sit in the kitchen if they sat down at all, when voices of hatred drowned out the voices of hope?  That's what they've promised to do.

Or are we going forward as a nation, forward to fight against despair, to fight against those who want to take us back to an imaginary yesterday before people like you and I came along?

Much of the choice is ours, not theirs.  There are things we must do, things we should have been doing, daily, long before this awful election smashed hopes and dreams and replaced them with nightmares.

We need to fight and smash white supremacy wherever it appears.  We need to revive and strengthen existing organizations that have carried the banner for freedom for so many years.  We need to seize the public forum, to stop letting others set agendas and define debate.  We need to put forward and argue for alternative public policies.  We need to expose the bankruptcy of the new order.  We need to build and strengthen alliances and coalitions.  We need to continue past successful strategies and tactics.  We need to involve every segment of our community from top to bottom in the daily struggle.

When I entered the labor force more than three decades ago, there were five workers making contributions into the Social Security System for every retiree.

Their names were probably Carl, Ralph, Bob, Steve and Bill.

When I retire, there will be only three workers paying into the system for every retiree - their names may well be Kwanza, Maria and Jose.

We need to insure they have the best futures, the best education, the best jobs and schools we possibly can.” 

The Catch of the Year

Here's something a little different, a bit of fiction:

It was early December in Washington, and the two striving young men stood in line at the Starbucks situated in Gucci Gulch, also known as K Street NW.  They were associates at Mumford Landesburgh Schmock, this year’s hip law firm, according to The List.  Published each New Year’s Day in the Style section of The Washington Post, The List identified for Inside the Beltway denizens what or who was In and what or who was Out.   Lobbying success on The Hill led to the firm’s coveted designation.

Boyd Rutherford, originally from Verona, New Jersey, arrived in Washington three years earlier with a sparkly new law degree from Harvard.  His classmate, Harrison Franks, grew up in nearby Potomac, Maryland where his grandparents were neighbors of the Shrivers, Sargent and Eunice, and regulars at their raucous summer pool parties and barbecues. (Kennedys knew how to party!)

Both men scanned newspapers as they waited to order their usuals:  Cinnamon Dolce Latte for Boyd, and Blonde Caramel Cloud Macchiato for Harrison.

As the line slowly shuffled forward, Boyd, still looking at the paper, tapped his knuckle on Harrison’s shoulder. “Harry, did you see this?  The Yankees signed Judge for nine years.  Three hundred sixty.”

Distractedly still looking at his own Post, Harrison replied, “Huh?  Three hundred sixty?  What?”

“Dollars…over nine years.  Judge gets forty mill a year from the Yanks.”

Not really paying attention, Harrison said, “Judge? Circuit? District? What?”

Boyd looked up and laughed.  “No, no.  The New York Yankees.  Aaron Judge.  Hit 62 homers this year.  Set a new record.”

Harrison gave Boyd a blank look, then sniffed, “Oh. Baseball.  Such a pedestrian fascination; men wearing oddly-designed clothes and funny shoes, chasing and throwing and striking at a ball, organized into groups with cartoonish-sounding names.  What an inglorious endeavor.”

Finally, these next-generation Washington insiders ordered and received their “coffee.”

Finding a small table in the crowded shop, they sat down.

Boyd said, “Come on.  Don’t be such a snob.  The Yanks were – are - my team!  Why, they have more World Series wins than any other team.  Such a historic franchise:  Babe Ruth, Joe DiMaggio, Mickey Mantle…”

Irritated, Harrison snapped, “You know I don’t listen to or watch sports games, let alone keep up with who’s on which team or how many this or that they do, or what their employer pays them.”

Boyd chuckled as he replied, “Well, you might be surprised by how enjoyable it is.  Maybe it would help you relax a little bit.  It really isn’t such a terrible thing.”

“OK, OK.  The next thing you will want is for me to start a collection of those little pictures of athletes…what do you call them?  Chewing gum photos?”

Shaking his head, Boyd said, “Bubblegum cards, Harry, and no you don’t have to collect them.  But developing an appreciation for something fun and exciting like baseball wouldn’t be so antithetical to your breeding.”

Harrison glanced at Boyd for a second to see if there was reason to take offense.  Deciding there may have been, he intoned, “With so many good books to be read, countless conundrums inherent in the human condition to be explored and untangled, and artistic expressions pregnant with illumination and uplift, it is disheartening that masses of people prefer to watch grown men engage in a fruitless struggle of brute physicality with others seeking to make ‘runs.’  Indeed, I never considered ‘run’ to be a noun, but rather a verb.  The nonsensical aspect of this astounds me.”

Seeking to lighten the mood a bit, Boyd smiled and replied, “See, you know something about the game.”

As Harrison scoffed, an older man at the next table spoke up.  He was wearing worn work boots, faded blue jeans, a plaid flannel shirt, and a slightly tattered bomber jacket.  His hands gripped a small cup of black coffee.  “Couldn’t help hearing you young fellers.  I don’t know much ‘bout baseball on the pro level, but when I was comin’ up, we all, me, my buddies, spent a lotta days playin’ ball.”

Harrison nodded slightly as he frowned and said, “Well, that’s nice.  I’m sure you had a lot of…”

“Yeah,” the old man continued, his mind’s eye taking him back to his youth.  “We sometimes had to pool our coins so’s we could buy a ball at the hardware store.  Some of us didn’t even have no mitts.  We played bare-handed!”  He looked at the two men with their slicked hair and shiny wingtips.

Boyd smiled and said, “Did you ever play on a team?  Little League, at school, or anything?”

“Naw.  Things wasn’t very, what you call, organized, where I come from.”

“Well, did you ever get to see a real game?  Maybe minor leaguers or even the majors?”

“Weren’t no teams nearby, as I recall, but I remember one time, way back, at a July Fourth picnic, some of us, we got up a game, boys and their dads or cousins or uncles…whoever wanted to play.”

Harrison looked at his watch and glanced at Boyd, who ignored him and gazed at the old man.

“There was this young kid – named Bubba or Junior or Sonny, I forget now. He weren’t playin' in the game, but instead was in a cow pasture next to the ball field we laid out, chuckin’ pebbles at some ol’ mangy feral cat when someone hit the ball and yelled, “Watch out!” Well, this boy saw that baseball flyin’ straight at his daddy’s cow.  He started a-runnin’ and grabbed a bucket that was layin’ there.  At the last second, that boy practically did the splits as his feet skidded and smeared in the muck, but he reached out with that rusty ol’ pail and caught the baseball, saving his daddy’s cow from a splittin’ headache. That cow just kept a-chewing and looked away like it was nothin’.  Folks ‘round there talked about that for a long time.  Called it the catch of the year.  Yes sir, that’s what they said!”  The old man slapped his leg and let out a gleeful snort.

Harrison looked solemnly at Boyd.  “I think we should head back to the office.”

Boyd eyed the storyteller. “Yeah!  The Catch of the Year!”  Turning to Harrison, he said, “I just love stories like that!”

The old man kept grinning as the two young lawyers stood up, put on their calf-length wool overcoats, adjusted their scarves to just the right look, headed toward the door, then stepped outside into the chilly, heavy Washington air.  A Metrobus exhaled and squealed as it slowed to a stop at the red light.  Bus fumes mingled with cigarette smoke.  Hustling pedestrians scattered to engage in their nationally important tasks.

As Boyd and Harrison strode purposefully past the plate glass window in front of the Starbucks, Boyd looked in and made eye contact once more with the old man.