Groceries

by Dr. James R. Brooks

Our pantry is scant.  Not bare, but shelving shows through.  In part by design for we are preparing to move.  We hope we are preparing to move but that is another story.

Tonight we shopped for groceries.  The banks were closed and I carried the temporary checks my bank provided.  Preparing to move has left me uncertain of future addresses.  Purchasing hundreds of checks to be shredded seemed an unwise decision.  Temporary checks seemed so much more wise.

After 90 minutes, two grocery stores, two trips through the aisles filling a cart with food, two trips through the check out line, two rejections of my check, two explanation to my son I decided to wait till the bank opened and shop with cash.  The last experience was the worst.  As we walked away from our cart full of food with my rejected check in my hand, my son asks “no food?”  And I say, “no food.”

Honestly there is money in the account.  The grocery stores do not take a temporary checks.  It is a simple matter of access.  For me it is a simple matter of access.  Yet my son’s words haunt me.

A parent’s nightmares are many.  Hungry children is one.  My son’s words stood the hair on my neck at attention.  My explanation of how checks work and how banks work and blah blah blah quieted his mouth.  My explanation did not remove from my ear his simple words, “no food?”

When I began this reflection, I anticipated a sappy ending of compassion for the truly poor.  Sort of a mock humility as I claimed my status in the world and inspired myself to strive harder to meet the needs of my neighbor.

In truth, what would I deny my neighbor to remove my son’s words from my ears?  What  inequality would I create to insure that my son is never hungry?  Many a parent, like me, would dare not speak the next few questions that dwell within us along this line of thought.  The action we would take is unspeakable.

And God so loved the world that God sent God’s only Son.  And we crucified that Son.  The reasons were many.  Our guilt universal.  And on Easter, the tomb empty (as we fear for our children’s stomachs) and then the appearances such as Emmaus over a meal when bread is broken (symbolism that convicts).  We are saved.  My child saved by God’s child.  Even I who would do the unspeakable to save my child.  Even I am saved. 

Why do saints lie prostrate before God?  Unlike I, they understand their place and the magnitude of God’s grace.  My thanksgiving, I pray, be full of that understanding.