When I heard this line at the reading of the Gospel at Mass yesterday morning, I almost laughed out loud at a memory from about 35 years ago.
I was an assistant manager at the now-defunct Thrifty Drug store in downtown Stockton. I was discussing something with the pharmacist on duty, John Ota. We both happened to observe an individual who was lingering over by the fragrance department steal a bottle of fairly expensive perfume and put it in his pocket. The thief noticed us watching him, so he bolted for the front door and out into the street. I was young and stupid back then, so without a second thought I took off after him. After chasing him for two blocks I was starting to slow down until John, who was at least 30 years older than me, passed me like I was standing still! He caught up to the shoplifter just as he was entering one of the flea-bag hotels in the middle of the next block. The thief went through the doors, but John didn’t follow; he looked back at me as I was just getting there and said, “I’m afraid to go in. You don’t know if he’s got friends waiting in there!”
Like I said, I was young and stupid. So I crashed through the door, hoping to see where he went. Our adversary must have been just as stupid as I was, because he had stopped to catch his breath, thinking we gave up our chase! When he saw me, he made a mad dash for the stairs to try and get away again. His foot slipped about the 5th step up and I got my hands on his jacket, then pulled him back down the stairs, where I saw that John had decided to follow me in anyway, despite his fears, to make sure I was OK.
Since there was now a crowd forming around us—some of whom I recognized as “regulars”, or known shoplifters—I decided it might be difficult to get him out of there and back to the store to call the police (this was years before cellphones!), so I said in a voice loud and threatening enough for everybody to hear, “Just give me back what you stole, and I won’t drag your sorry butt down to the police station, but let you go, instead!” As he handed the perfume back to me, I again stated (for the rest of the crowd), “I’m sick and tired of people stealing from us! We’re always watching now, and as you can see, we’re faster than you! So do me a favor, and stay away from Thrifty, and I won’t have you arrested!” John and I put on our best “brave” face and high-tailed it back to the store, where we both shook our heads in disbelief at our lack of common sense!
When I heard the Gospel yesterday, what made me chuckle was the similarity of the stories. There were 2 men (one named John) running to a scene where they didn’t know what to expect. The stories were dissimilar in that the man named John in the Gospel story was the younger (however both deferred to the ‘superior’ before entering the unknown), and in the latter story of course, Jesus had not risen from the dead (although I did invoke His name before I entered, asking for His protection!). And while the Apostles’ story has been shared over and over again for more than 2,000 years, my story has never been told. John and I didn’t want to get in trouble for risking our lives for a $15 bottle of perfume.
As I think back on it after reading the Gospel anew, the most glaring difference was that Peter and John were running with thoughts of fear and sadness, ending with hope and joy; Steve and John were running with thoughts of hate and revenge, ending in embarrassment and fear of losing their jobs. The Apostles certainly got the better result by placing their trust in God.
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