The parson was visiting at his old seminary, researching in the stacks for some material he had not been able to find on the internet. The smell of the old books assaulted his nostrils triggering memories of hours spent among these books a lifetime ago.
As he rounded a corner he came face-to-face with Deborah, a student pastor at a church he once served. They both expressed animated surprise at the encounter with unrestrained hugs. They had not seen each other for about three years. Deborah was pursuing her Ph.D. in religion with an intention of teaching.
They quickly made arrangements to meet for dinner at a familiar spot where, in her days as a student pastor at the parson’s church, the staff had often held staff meetings over a shared pizza and beverage. The parson had just found a table looking out the window toward the university when Deborah arrived late in the afternoon. They quickly settled down and began to catch up on each other’s life as well as sharing information on other folks they held in common.
Soon the pizza arrived. They began to devour it as they continued to exchange updates. “So, what’s the emphasis of your doctoral program?” the parson asked.
“I’m working on an analysis of the developing multi-cultural patterns on the theology of the mainline Protestant church,” she said, leaning forward with enthusiasm.
“Tell me something about it,” the parson said.
Deborah reached down and pulled a box from a shopping bag she was carrying. “Look at this, Parson,” she said. “I bought some shoes this afternoon.” She smiled and continued, “I’m not going to ask your opinion on the shoes,” she said, “but look at the box.” She handed it across the table.
The parson examined the box in a perfunctory way.
“No, no,” said Deborah. “Look on the bottom.”
The parson held his hand on the top and turned the box over. There was printed two charts, a men’s and a woman’s shoe size chart. The interesting thing about the charts was the comparisons of sizes for different parts of the world. The countries were America, the United Kingdom, Mexico, Europe, and Japan. The parson looked to Deborah.
“Here’s the thing, Parson. Here we are sitting at a pizza place in the heart of the Southern United States. I just bought these shoes at that store down there.” She pointed out the window to the store. “The very fact that I bought shoes with international sizing comparison charts on the box shows the impact that multi-culturalism is having on our world already. There’s a mixing of these cultures here right where we live. Now look at the list on the chart. There’s the United States where the dominant religion is Protestant; there’s the United Kingdom which is Anglican; there’s Mexico, Catholic; Europe which is – well who knows what Europe actually is; and there’s Japan with its traditional religion. Here they are on the back of a shoe box, in a pizza parlor across the street from this university. Something is happening in the world, Parson. And tomorrow or next week or maybe even next month it will impact the theology of the church. Our church is going to change, Parson. In two more generations we’ll not be able to recognize the way we describe our church today. . . .”
Deborah continued on with her analysis of the multi-cultural development of the United States and that development’s impact on theology through the consumption of the entire pizza and then through the downing of another mug of beverage. She was excited and on fire about her studies.
The sun had set and darkness had closed the door to the sky when the parson left to head for home. As he drove, he reflected on Deborah’s thesis. He had a feeling she was right. And he was disappointed that he probably would not live long enough to see the new theology fully.
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