Blog

_{This painting in located in the Chapel of St. Columba.}

“Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly.” - Matthew 1:19 (NRSVue)

On a cold November day in 1998, the Rector with whom I worked and I attended the funeral of Matthew Shepard in Casper, Wyoming. Matthew was the young gay man who was murdered and left to die, tied to a fence on a frigid fall night. Father Bill Bacon had administered last rites to him.

Outside the church, the Westboro Baptist protesters shouted from behind a fence, their taunts and signs loud and tragically visible. Then, almost as if on cue—as though in a scene change from a Broadway musical—friends and supporters of Matthew encircled the area. They held hands and began singing Amazing Grace ,their voices rising until the protesters were drowned out.

When we exited the church after the service, gentle snow was falling. The protesters were gone, and even amid tragedy, there was joy—joy in the singing, and joy in the stillness.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Joseph, refuses to disgrace Mary or put her in physical danger. He instead listens to the angel’s call. His courage is joy—especially through resistance—and a willingness to let love override fear and uncertainty, trusting in the profound gift found in the birth of Mary’s son, despite the dangerous first century world into which he would be born.

My prayer this Advent is that we may find that same joy: challenging the structures and strictures that oppress and demean people, by living out our Baptismal Covenant to “strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being.”

The Reverend Deacon Kenton J. Curtis, LCSW
Cathedral Deacon