Not a $20 Rolex

     It happened during a confirmation class trip to New York City several years ago. A group of our 9^th and 10^th Graders had made the trek to the Big Apple for an overnight program of education, worship and fun in the world’s largest Gothic cathedral, St. John the Divine. We had some free time the following day, and so traveled south through Manhattan to Battery Park, where we boarded the ferry for a quick trip out to the Statue of Liberty. It was an inspiring and educational event for us all, as we marveled at Lady Liberty from up close, then made a quick stop on the return trip at Ellis Island, the portal to America for many of our ancestors. But our education for the day was not yet over – as we disembarked from the ferry upon our return to Manhattan, we were met by dozens of street vendors hawking their wares, selling everything from postcards to miniature Statues of Liberty to bootleg DVDs to watches and even cameras. We had, I thought, successfully shepherded the group off the ferry and up the ramp, until a quick headcount revealed that we were one confirmand short. To our relief, he soon appeared – proudly showing off his brand-new, shiny, guaranteed authentic Rolex watch – a watch, he boasted, he had been able to get for just $20.

            You know the rest of the story. That watch ran perfectly – for two weeks.

            It was, of course, a counterfeit. A fraud. A piece of junk, a pale imitation of the Real McCoy.

            Our adventuresome and yet naïve young consumer knew what he wanted, the object of his desire was fixed in his mind. A Rolex Submariner. The perfect timepiece, the standard of excellence, a chronometer built to withstand water pressures of up to 100 feet, to keep time to within seconds each year, a symbol of the good life achieved. Or so the advertisements led him to believe.

            He knew what he wanted. He ended up getting much less.

            I often wonder if this is too often who we think we are. A $20 Rolex. Maybe shiny and spiffed up on the outside, but inside, a counterfeit, a fraud.

            Maybe we do this because of how we have been taught to underestimate our worth. Maybe you were abused by someone you trusted, someone who treated you as an object to be used to satisfy their desires, and so you came to similarly undervalue yourself and your worth. Maybe you were the one always picked last to be on sports teams, and you took this as a judgment not on your athletic abilities, but on who you, at core, really are. Maybe you absorbed the message our media continually bombards you with, that your value depends on how many luxury items you possess, how wrinkle free and unblemished your skin is, how youthful and sexy you are, how successful you have been in business, how healthy you are, how able you are to get things done, how independent you are.

                The great actress Dorothy Maguire was appearing on Broadway in Tennessee William’s play The Night of the Iguana. Just before curtain time on a Friday night, the theatre was disturbed by the shrill voice of a woman in the audience shouting, “Start the show! Start the show! I want to see Dorothy Maguire!” The woman was clearly emotionally disturbed, but after a moment of shocked silence, some in the theatre began to turn on her. “Listen, you old bag, get out!” someone heckled. “Throw her out! Start the show!” another jeered. The house manager came to try and reason with the woman, but she pulled away, shrieking, “All I want to see is Dorothy Maguire; then I’ll leave.”

            Suddenly, through the part in the curtains, Miss Maguire herself appeared. She crossed the stage and walked calmly over to the disturbed woman. She spoke quietly to her and then hugged her. The woman, who had recoiled whenever anyone else had touched her, drew close to Miss Maguire, got up from her seat, and together they walked toward the exit. Before they left the theater, Miss Maguire paused and turned to the audience. With grace and kindness she announced, “I’d like to introduce another fellow human being.”

            Dorothy Maguire testified to the truth about this woman, a truth that no emotional illness or abuse from others could take away – she was not a $20 Rolex. She was a fellow human being, a child of God, a citizen with the saints, a member of the household of God.

Just like each and every one of us.