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Easter brings out the hope that is in me
By Dorothy Cummings McLean
April 16, 2009
Dorothy Cummings McLean
When I was a student, I spoke like a student, I thought like a student, I wrote like a student. When I became a columnist for The Catholic Register, I discovered I had a lot more readers. And this was very good.
From a student point of view, it is unfair. A student slaves for hours, days, even weeks over a paper and hands it in to be graded by a professor or, worse, a teaching assistant. The student has an audience of one, and that audience responds with a few red scribbles and an A, B or “See me.” I, on the other hand, sit down at my computer for four hours maximum, write out 800 words and e-mail them to the editor, secure in the knowledge that thousands of people will have the opportunity to appreciate or condemn my work. They might or might not comment. Unlike the student, I get paid.
From a student point of view, it is unfair. A student slaves for hours, days, even weeks over a paper and hands it in to be graded by a professor or, worse, a teaching assistant. The student has an audience of one, and that audience responds with a few red scribbles and an A, B or “See me.” I, on the other hand, sit down at my computer for four hours maximum, write out 800 words and e-mail them to the editor, secure in the knowledge that thousands of people will have the opportunity to appreciate or condemn my work. They might or might not comment. Unlike the student, I get paid.
Sometimes I get perks, too. For example, last week the editor e-mailed to say that he was too busy to go on The Michael Coren Show on Crossroad Television and had suggested me instead. Coren had thought me a reasonable substitute, and how about it?
How about it?! Is there a member of my generation that does not long to be on TV? And not only that, but the show would send a car to fetch me. Visions of black stretch limousines danced in my head.
But there were two tricky bits. The minor tricky bit was that all my good clothes were in Scotland. The major tricky bit was that the show was about Easter. Not politics or social life or dating or something like that. Easter. This meant I, a Canadian, a Torontonian even, brought up not to talk about religion in public, would have to talk about my faith, my Christian faith, my Catholic Christian faith, on national TV.
That’s a bit scary.
Now the first letter of Peter says that we must always be ready to make our defense to anyone who demands from us an accounting for the hope that is in us (1 Peter 3:15). This is not an everyday thing. Much of the time, people are not terribly interested in the hope that is in us. It’s not something that comes up often at school or at the office. And worse, still, sometimes we hear our fellow students or colleagues say terrible things about Christians, particularly Evangelical Christians, or the Pope. Hopefully, we say things like, “Um, I’m a Christian myself” or “in many ways, the Pope is doing a great job.” I think an awkward moment is worth suffering for the truth. God knows that the saints have suffered so much more.
At the same time, though, we don’t always have the words to explain the hope that is in us. And that is when an M.Div. or any other degree in Theology comes in really handy. In an M.Div. program, you are introduced to work of people much smarter and more articulate than yourself. One such person is an Anglican bishop named N.T. Wright. Unlike some other Anglican Scripture scholars, N.T. Wright believes wholeheartedly in the truth of Christ’s physical resurrection. He argues for it with grace and power. So I rushed off to Crux Books to buy his debate with Marcus Borg, The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions. I read it on busses and subway cars as I rushed around buying a TV suit.
Thus I felt up to the challenge when the CTS van (not a limo, oh well…) picked me up and took me to the studio. I was ushered into the Green Room where I shook hands with an Evangelical guest, Calvin Smith, and the host himself, and then was directed into another room where I was covered in powder and lipstick. I emerged to meet another Evangelical guest, Dr. David Haskell, and then Coren led us to his electric blue soundstage.
“It looks much bigger on TV,” I said.
“Everything looks bigger on TV,” said Coren, “including people.”
The fourth guest was Bishop Fred Henry, who was patched in from a studio in Calgary. As the cameras rolled, Coren introduced the show and then the four of us. He asked the first guest what Easter meant to him. Then he asked the second. Then the third.
Finally, he turned to me. What did I think was the meaning of Easter?
I opened my mouth and gave an account of the hope that was in me.
Afterwards, back in the van, I was grinning from ear to ear. The conversation had been a great experience, and I wondered what others would think.
“How many people watch The Michael Coren Show?” I asked Doug, the driver.
“About 150,000,” said Doug.
From a student point of view, it’s unfair.
How about it?! Is there a member of my generation that does not long to be on TV? And not only that, but the show would send a car to fetch me. Visions of black stretch limousines danced in my head.
But there were two tricky bits. The minor tricky bit was that all my good clothes were in Scotland. The major tricky bit was that the show was about Easter. Not politics or social life or dating or something like that. Easter. This meant I, a Canadian, a Torontonian even, brought up not to talk about religion in public, would have to talk about my faith, my Christian faith, my Catholic Christian faith, on national TV.
That’s a bit scary.
Now the first letter of Peter says that we must always be ready to make our defense to anyone who demands from us an accounting for the hope that is in us (1 Peter 3:15). This is not an everyday thing. Much of the time, people are not terribly interested in the hope that is in us. It’s not something that comes up often at school or at the office. And worse, still, sometimes we hear our fellow students or colleagues say terrible things about Christians, particularly Evangelical Christians, or the Pope. Hopefully, we say things like, “Um, I’m a Christian myself” or “in many ways, the Pope is doing a great job.” I think an awkward moment is worth suffering for the truth. God knows that the saints have suffered so much more.
At the same time, though, we don’t always have the words to explain the hope that is in us. And that is when an M.Div. or any other degree in Theology comes in really handy. In an M.Div. program, you are introduced to work of people much smarter and more articulate than yourself. One such person is an Anglican bishop named N.T. Wright. Unlike some other Anglican Scripture scholars, N.T. Wright believes wholeheartedly in the truth of Christ’s physical resurrection. He argues for it with grace and power. So I rushed off to Crux Books to buy his debate with Marcus Borg, The Meaning of Jesus: Two Visions. I read it on busses and subway cars as I rushed around buying a TV suit.
Thus I felt up to the challenge when the CTS van (not a limo, oh well…) picked me up and took me to the studio. I was ushered into the Green Room where I shook hands with an Evangelical guest, Calvin Smith, and the host himself, and then was directed into another room where I was covered in powder and lipstick. I emerged to meet another Evangelical guest, Dr. David Haskell, and then Coren led us to his electric blue soundstage.
“It looks much bigger on TV,” I said.
“Everything looks bigger on TV,” said Coren, “including people.”
The fourth guest was Bishop Fred Henry, who was patched in from a studio in Calgary. As the cameras rolled, Coren introduced the show and then the four of us. He asked the first guest what Easter meant to him. Then he asked the second. Then the third.
Finally, he turned to me. What did I think was the meaning of Easter?
I opened my mouth and gave an account of the hope that was in me.
Afterwards, back in the van, I was grinning from ear to ear. The conversation had been a great experience, and I wondered what others would think.
“How many people watch The Michael Coren Show?” I asked Doug, the driver.
“About 150,000,” said Doug.
From a student point of view, it’s unfair.
Dorothy Cummings McLean