Clothed in Christ
A number of years ago on the last Sunday of June – a day as beautiful as this last Sunday of June, I stood on the edge of Market Street in San Francisco watching the Gay Pride parade – the closest thing to Mardi Gras the West Coast has to offer. There are people riding floats, convertibles, motorcycles, scooters, skates, and bikes. There are politicians of every stripe, the police and fire departments, professionals and union members. There are representatives of almost all the major churches and beliefs. You see performing theater groups, acrobats and jugglers; you hear choral groups, drum corps, and marching bands. There is a riot of color – rainbow balloons, flags, costumes, banners, spangles, and feather boas. There is the enormous roar and energy of hundreds of thousands of people. The excitement is electric.
A gentle woman and man, dressed in comfortable plaid clothing, squeezed their way to the curb through layers of people to find out what was going on. They looked anxious. They were in town to attend a convention and to march in its parade, and they were afraid they had missed it! After watching intently for a few minutes, the woman's face relaxed. She looked at her husband and said, "Leonard, I don't think this is the Shriners'….We'd never see anything like this in Iowa!"
The couple stayed for another hour and a half. They talked to everyone and told us about their lives in Iowa. We all had a blast together.
These two folks recognized that the power of God bound them to the people all around them, whether we were Shriners' or not. They saw opportunities of welcome and being welcomed rather than differences. I saw that they were not clothed in stolid plaids as much as they were clothed in Christ.
.... for in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith. As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians)
As with Paul's fledgling Christian community, we have serious rifts threatening our community and nation and church. We hang onto the differences to protect our vested interests, rather than welcoming the outcasts we each are to one another. We forget that we are to bless those who are difficult to love as well as those we are happy to love.
Consciously removing our robes of division and becoming clothed in Christ is a life-long daily practice of getting to know who Christ is.
In Luke's Gospel today, Jesus poses a question to the disciples: "Who do the crowds say that I am?" Their answers show that Jesus has captured the peoples' imaginations; they crowd him by the thousands; they call for him and pray for his attention. He must be someone spectacular like John the Baptist or a miracle worker like revered Elijah. The crowds are hoping for a superstar.
When Jesus narrows the question and asks "Who do you say that I am?" Peter answers: "You are the Messiah of God."
To Peter, the Messiah is the heir apparent to David, the King of Israel, the one who will free the Jews from the Romans and restore them to glory. The Messiah is a political and military hero. Another kind of superstar.
Jesus immediately corrects these grandiose ideas about who he is and redefines Messiah. He is a servant who suffers and who loves all. Instead of the Christ we want, he is the Christ we need.
Clothing ourselves in this Christ means we will embrace outcasts and those who are different from us. It is a Christ who embraces the Shriners as well as those with rainbow body paint.
I'm grateful to have met that gentle couple on a sidewalk in San Francisco so many years ago. I’m grateful they understood the importance and joy of clothing themselves in Christ. I'm grateful for their examples. I pray to remember them all my life.