Saved on Boston Common

I've been thinking about some of the folks who have served as mentors to me over the years.  And one of them was Dr. Earl Kent Brown.  Kent was my First Reader on my PhD dissertation, and a very wise soul.  

I went to Boston University, and Kent lived just down the street from the main part of that massive urban campus.  He didn't own a car, and did a lot of walking all over that great city.  

In the heart of Boston one finds the Common.  Centuries back it was the grazing ground for cows and sheep owned by Bostonians.  Today, it is the gathering space for all sorts of people.  Clowns and musicians; business folk on lunch break; street people hoping for a scrap of lunch teenagers on skateboards, runners, sunbathers and just plain walkers, like my friend Kent.

One also finds there a wider assortment of religious and political views.  Hare Krishnas will invite you to a vegetarian dinner at a nearby ashram; conservatives will offer you a red hat; some local politician is bout to want to shake your hand and assure your vote; and often a clean-cut Christian young man or woman will approach you with the question, "Have you been saved?"

Now my friend Kent was as liberal as Methodists ever get.  He was also one of gentlest, kindest, most Christ-like folk I have ever known.  He devoted his life to being a teacher of the Church.  He stood about 6'6" and must have weighed close to 300 pounds.  Maybe he didn't look saved--whatever the case, more often than not, when Kent would walk through the Common one of those clean-cut kids would approach him and ask, "Have you been born again? Have you been saved?"

Inevitably the questioner had in mind a very particular understanding of what it means to be born again, to be saved.  No doubt exists in my mind that Kent Brown was a committed follower of Jesus.  But his understanding of what that means would probably be too loosely defined for his questioner.  And so, when asked, "Have you been saved," rather than get involved in a long debate, he would simply respond, "Yes, two thousand years ago."

I miss Kent--and am grateful he was a part of my life!