What’s It Gonna Cost Me?

On Holy Saturday, April 19th, there was a “Hands Off” protest outside the courthouse in Bryan. For three blocks along Texas Avenue, people held up signs voicing their opposition to the current administration’s unjust overreaches (wrongful deportations without due process; banning books, programs, and other resources that promote diversity, equity, and inclusion; cancellations of international food and medical provisions; etc.), and their concern for and affirmation of those being harmed by those egregious actions. It was a hot, humid morning, so I filled a cooler with ice and bottled waters, and joined the protest.

Several gladly accepted an ice cold bottle of water, but one man hesitated.

“You need water?” I asked him.

“Depends,” he said, eyeing my clergy collar. “What’s it gonna cost me?”

Being well-acquainted with the skepticism that many have toward religious types in the public square—those who take a few minutes of one’s time in exchange for years of them feeling awkward about Christianity—I laughed and said, “It’ll cost you my gratitude for you standing out here and speaking up.”

He smiled and took the water.

The Right Reverend Michael Curry, retired bishop of the Episcopal Church, says, “We are all children of God made in God’s image and likeness, and that means we are related to each other…We must speak up and show up when something happens against our Jewish, our Muslim, our Sikh [siblings]. We must stand publicly for things that don’t give us any advantage and advocate in the public sphere for what is just and kind and decent and humane.” While the sentiment is universal, Bishop Curry’s words are directed explicitly toward Christians who are immersed in a contractual culture that asks, “If I give you this, what are you going to do for me?” But followers of Jesus abide by covenants, not contracts, where we look out for the dignity and wellbeing of all without demand for recompense, asking only, “Do you need this?”

The man who accepted water from me was not a Christian, but he was standing out there on the eve of Easter advocating for things that probably did not give him much advantage, if any. From my perspective, he was living by the United Church of Christ’s Statement of Faith that calls us to “accept the cost and the joy of discipleship.” He stood to gain nothing personally out there at that protest, but it could have cost him something, maybe a lot. The least we can do for one another as we continue standing up, showing up, speaking up in ways, large and small, that support the most vulnerable among us is share goodness, light, and peace in whatever form those offerings of vital uplift might take without concern for recompense.

Prayer: Abundantly Loving God, as your child St. Francis of Assisi prays, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console, to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love. Fill my cup with your goodness, light, and peace to overflowing, that I might so give to others without a second thought as to how my well-intentioned deeds might benefit me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Amen.