Unity

The rich and the poor; the liar and the lied-to; the embezzler and the embezzellee; the hater and the hated; the contemptuous and the contempted; the adulterer and spouse; the angry and his object; the abortionist, the aborter and the aborted; the gossip and gossipee; the thief and his victim; the conner and the conned; the abuser and the abused; the pedophile and the child; all are one. We are one in genetic and what we do to one another. We are all wounded birds, shot through with our frail genetics and pierced by our circumstances and upbringing. What we do to one another comes from what we are. What we are is shaped from all that has gone before in and to and out of us. We are molded in the image of our ancestors and chiseled by our life into something or someone we ourselves do not like or love. We are twisted, deformed, defaced, defamed, sick in head heart and body; we are ignorant and illiterate. We know not that we know not. We are selfish, cruel and heartless. Ego rules. Is it possible that a society could exist where begging would be impossible because all have enough? Where all love the other to the extent that no anger, hatred, bigotry exist? Where the pedophile loves the child in the truest sense of the word; the adulterer loves the spouse so much that no temptation can overwhelm that love? Can we all be healed of that which has broken us, maimed and distorted us so we are free to be in one another’s shoes; to learn to view through the other’s eyes, to treat even better the other than we ourselves would be treated? What magic, what learning, what power would invade us all so that in you I see myself and joy in your comfort, your pleasure, your gain? There is another breaking offered: a voluntary breaking, a breaking from outside ourselves. He who offers is a master of rebuilding, reshaping, restructuring, rebirthing. He Himself becomes our newness, our rebirth. He touches what we touch and what once turned to lead at our touch becomes living and life-giving. What once seeped from the infected wounds of our wounded self now turns to become a fountain of water springing up into refreshing river of life to those with whom we come into contact. Death becomes life; dark becomes light; sorrow and sadness turn to joy; all the old is gone, wiped out by the new. Oh Great Healer, Genetic Engineer, Worker in the warp and woof of circumstance, Tinker and mender of things broken, corrector of the distorted; You who took on serpent to heal, who took our wounds, absorbed our pain, blotted up all that we are and have done into Yourself—we, the cured, turn to You in gratitude and praise, knowing we cannot heal ourselves and that the only healing that is, is from and through You. Now, victim and perpetrator are one of and with You. Now we are not only one in gene, but one in spirit, in that True Spirit from which we all are and to Whom we all return.

Head-On Crash

I slam myself headlong into You, the Rock; flesh against Stone; finite against Infinite, until, bloody, bruised and battered. “You exist,” I cry out in angry pain, “Why do You make me suffer so?” You smile and open Your arms to me, gathering me into Your warm embrace. “It’s so good to have you home at last.”

Cockroach Dreams

Does a cockroach dream? If so, of what does it dream? Does it dream of money, fame, happiness; a juicier piece of garbage? What are its aspirations; its goals? Does it worry about knowing and following the will of God? Unanswerable questions all; the only communication between us and them is a hostile exchange of heel and avoidance. But the last question intrigues: Does a cockroach know the will of God? Probably not. But one further question: Does it do the will of God? What about a parasite? In their millions, they effect human, animal and plant life profoundly. But even more than a cockroach, their life seems unfocused, without purpose. For example, the lancet fluke of Europe and North America begin as adults in a cow’s stomach. Their eggs pass through the cow’s intestines to be eaten by a snail and hatch within the its intestine. Forming a larva, it bores to the snail’s surface which the snail defends itself from by creating a globule of slime. The slimeball is coughed up by the snail which makes an attractive meal for an ant. The ant is taken over by the fluke larva which controls the ant’s behavior, causing it to move to the top of a stalk of grass in the evening rather than returning to its nest. At the tip of a grass stalk, it is more likely to be eaten by a cow, thus completing the cycle . Where is His purpose, His will, in this bizarre life chain? Not being a biologist, I don’t know if the fluke or the cockroach has a grand purpose in its biological niche or not, so I’m leaving you with an unanswered question, I’m afraid. But in both cases the strange life of the insect or parasite is lived: it does its thing, following the pattern of a myriad of generations before it. “Am I following His will?” Is a question I’ve heard dozens of times within the Christian community. “I need to seek the Lord’s will in this.” “Have you prayed about it?” are variants on the theme. We Christians are prone to this anxious thought and conversation, I believe, because we’re never quite content where we are. Perhaps, as I mentioned in another blog post, we feel like we should be doing some great thing for Him. Perhaps there is a vague itch to be somewhere else and we want to cast the lots of finding His will so we have justification to move somewhere else and to do something else. (Strange it is how often “His will” is a warm sunnier climate—but I digress.) Maybe, though, Jesus was thinking of this propensity of humankind when He said, “Take no thought…” Paul seems to have found the cockroach dream when he said, “in all things and all circumstances I am content.” So, perhaps, His will is not so much a thing to be discovered as a thing to be lived. The ordinary, day-to-day life, lived in Him, is His will. Buying groceries, going to work, changing diapers, talking over the backyard fence, eating dinner—of these mundanities does His will consist. This is not to say that He won’t interrupt and change life’s course, but it’s not a matter of seeking but of being. Said another way: I am in His will unless I consciously leave it in rebellion. Life lived this way seems to me to be more in line with His “rest” than the usual life of a Christian. Faith is falling into and relaxing into Him more than it is a frantic search. Friend, dream the cockroach dream; live the life laid out for you in confidence and contentment: You are in His purpose.

Gutter Talk

A famous, long-dead preacher once said to a friend about a drunk man lying in the gutter: “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” In imagination’s ear, I hear the drunk, after lifting his head to stare into the long-dead preacher’s face: “And there, sir, but for the grace of God, go I.” Then I hear him say, “And here, by the grace of God, am I.” Is it possible that our sin and our sinning is, in some way, necessary? Is it possible that the “all things” of Romans 11:36 includes sin itself and my specific sinning? Though still in speculative mode, it is increasingly difficult for me to get past that conclusion. A heretic the thought makes me, but by most I would be branded that already-being burned for two heresies is no hotter than for one.