Lenten Meditation: Friday, March 24, 2023
John 7:1-2, 10, 25-30
Today, we hear of Jesus going to Jerusalem for Sukkoth. The other festival-goers spotted him, and they wondered why people thought he was such a big deal. They knew who he was and where he was from, so he couldn’t possibly be anything special.
“You know me, and you know where I am from,” Jesus conceded, but he added that they did not know “the one who sent me.” In other words, they could not see what was really going on because they had made up their minds.
You can always spot tourists at the Cathedral. They walk in, they look up, and then it happens. They really see it. They are amazed. “What is it like to work in in this building,” visitors often ask me after they get over the shock. The truth is, I’m used to it. It’s not that I don’t see it or appreciate it, but I don’t see it or appreciate it the way they do. I know the Cathedral. Maybe I know it too well.
Every Sunday, one of the Cathedral’s wonders is not to be found upstairs but downstairs. The staff of our Cathedral Community Cares — Thomas, Robert, and Vanessa — are down there with dozens of volunteers preparing and packing hot meals and cold sandwiches. They are gathering and organizing donated clothing. And people come. People in need. We know who they are. We know where they are from. They are unhoused people from the street and from the shelters. They are underemployed or retired people from apartments that cost every penny to rent so there is nothing left for food. They are undocumented immigrants from the Mexico-Texas border who arrived on one-way government-sponsored busses.
We know them, and we know where they come from. But do we? Who are they when we let ourselves really see?
Today, consider supporting the work of CCC.