pruning, abiding and bearing fruit: repentance and the days of awe*
Sunday, September 9, 2012
I remember, after I had been ordained–three years ago this October–though there were many emotions present, there was one with a very particular outlet.
I was excited, finally, to be able to have something to say that I ‘do’ when crossing the border from Mexico to the US and being questioned by the border guards. Up until that point I had tried to describe it–well, I’m in the process of becoming a Presbyterian minister, but I’m also a photographer and a writer and I travel a lot–but now I could just say “I’m a Presbyterian minister.” Easy. Done.
My first time crossing, after being ‘official’ as a minister I drove up to the gate (this was pre-SENTRI pass for those who pay attention to such details) ready to give my answer.
Sure enough the guard asked me, “What do you do?” Almost too proudly I responded, “I’m a Presbyterian minister” to which his immediate response was, “Recite the 23rd Psalm.”
I blanked. Totally blanked. This was not what I was expecting from the US Border Guard.
“Yea though I walk thru the shadow of death…” I tried, starting in the middle and stopping far short of the end.
“Keep going,” he said.
“Well, I don’t have it memorized,” I had to admit to him. “Do you?” I asked him in return.
“Yep,” he responded.
“Well, you must be Catholic,” I replied, to which he, smiling, answered in the affirmative.
“I’m Presbyterian, we don’t have to memorize Psalm 23,” I responded, rather pathetically, I can admit.
He, smiling, waved me through as I, in my shame, crossed over to the other side.
The very next time I crossed, not to be dissuaded, I planned on the same answer–though I still hadn’t memorized the 23rd Psalm.
“What do you do?” the border guard asked me. “I’m a Presbyterian minister,” I responded.
“Do you have any drugs, tobacco or alcohol with you?” he responded.
Oh, so you must be Presbyterian too…
It is said that on Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, God writes each person’s fate for the coming year into the Book of Life, and on Yom Kippur those records are sealed. The time between, then, is a sort of ‘purgatory’ if you will in which one can, if necessary, attempt to change the outcome.
What is interesting is that the two days are not back to back, one right after the other. They are separated by ten days, what are known as the Days of Awe. This ‘grace period’ in a sense, is a time of penitence, of repentance, of considering what one has done that is not exactly what might have been best, and what one might do, in the coming year, to change that.
The new year […]