A Moment with Katharine

I stayed late at work yesterday because Katharine was doing a book signing in the Episcopal Church Center's soon-to-be-opened new bookstore. I took three copies of A Wing And A Prayer, her new book--one for me, one for my new boss who arrives on Monday, and one for Mom. I stood in line with a couple of my friends from work, and as we waited, it quickly became clear that Katharine was taking a moment to have a conversation with each person.

When I reached the table for my turn, I handed her each book in turn--each one with a yellow post-it on it so that I would remember which was whose. When I handed her Mom's and said it was for my mother, she smiled and asked if she should make it out the way I had it on the post-it, which, of course, said "Mom." No, I replied, her name is Barbara. She also remembered that my first name is not spelled in one of the usual ways and asked how it was spelled to make sure she wrote it correctly when she signed my copy.

As I left, I thanked her and wished her luck for next week. She smiled and said thank you--I did not need to add "at the Primates' meeting."

Katharine smiles a lot, and it is not one of those "this is my public smile that I've pasted on because I'm supposed to look happy" smiles. It is a genuine "I'm glad to see you" smile. And she listens. You feel that you have her complete attention while you are with her.

Later this evening, among the day's Episcopal News Service releases in my email in box, was the latest of Katharine's occasional short reflections. I have included it below, because I feel it is worth sharing.

Peace,
Jeffri

In this season: Christ in the stranger's guise
A reflection from the Presiding Bishop
Wednesday, February 07, 2007

[Episcopal News Service] Note to readers: With this posting, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori continues a series of occasional reflections for the people of the Episcopal Church. The reflections are also available on the Presiding Bishop's web pages at http://www.episcopalchurch.org/pb.

For the People of the Episcopal Church

As the primates of the Anglican Communion prepare to gather next week in Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, I ask your prayers for all of us, and for our time together. I especially ask you to remember the mission that is our reason for being as the Anglican Communion--God's mission to heal this broken world. The primates gather for fellowship, study, and conversation at these meetings, begun less than thirty years ago. The ability to know each other and understand our various contexts is the foundation of shared mission. We cannot easily be partners with strangers.

That meeting ends just as Lent begins, and as we approach this season, I would suggest three particularly appropriate attitudes. Traditionally the season has been one in which candidates prepared for baptism through prayer, fasting, and acts of mercy. This year, we might all constructively pray for greater awareness and understanding of the strangers around us, particularly those strangers whom we are not yet ready or able to call friends. That awareness can only come with our own greater investment in discovering the image of God in those strangers. It will require an attitude of humility, recognizing that we can not possibly know the fullness of God if we are unable to recognize his hand at work in unlikely persons or contexts. We might constructively fast from a desire to make assumptions about the motives of those strangers not yet become friends. And finally, we might constructively focus our passions on those in whom Christ is most evident--the suffering, those on the margins, the forgotten, ignored, and overlooked of our world. And as we seek to serve that suffering servant made evident in our midst, we might reflect on what Jesus himself called us--friends (John 15:15).

Celtic Rune of Hospitality
I saw a stranger yesterday;
I put food in the eating place,
drink in the drinking place,
music in the listening place;
and in the sacred name of the Triune God
he blessed myself and my house,
my cattle and my dear ones,
and the lark said in her song:
Oft, Oft, Oft,
goes Christ in the stranger's guise.

Shalom,
Katharine