Stop Being Sorry

A month ago, just as I took a temporary, unplanned break from blogging, I scribbled down this question: “Must we be sorry forever?”

Psalm 38:20 was part of my reading, that day:

“Those who render me evil for good are my adversaries because I follow after good…” (NRSV).

Friends, this is not a claim that I have it all together.  Have you read me? But in fairness, I do think we need to come to pivotal moments in life when enough is enough.  What do we think redemption is, anyway?

Fast forward to today…

God doesn’t stay angry. 

This seems like a strange thing to say, in more ways than one.  I struggle with the image of an angry God, and I think even our Scriptures paint God in a certain light precisely because of antiquated theology that was appropriate for the cultural context of the time and place in which Scripture was penned.  This doesn’t make it any less true, but it does cause me to pause and seek the point of the words more sincerely than the words, themselves. 

Psalm 30:5 seemed helpful to me, today:

“For his anger is but for a moment; his favor is for a lifetime.  Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning” (NRSV).

OK.  I can live with that.  We all can literally live with that.  These words are God breathing fresh life into broken stuff… into broken us.  I don’t really know how angry God gets, but I suppose if there is anyone who has a right to be angry, it’s God.  And I guess I have to think that God does get angry about injustices and suffering and evil in the world that brings pain, but I also have to be careful not to make God into me.  I have to be so careful.

This moment, though, has me considering what it is to accept that God might get angry but to also allow for a scenario in which God’s anger dissipates.  It is most difficult when I think God is angry with me.  It is most difficult when I think God has reason to be angry with me.  It is helpful to know that even if that line of thinking pans out (and I actually don’t know whether or not it does), it’s not permanent. 

Ezekiel 39:28-29 is telling.  After the author details the ways in which God has been angry with Israel… with God’s own people…  After the author details the ways in which God has abandoned God’s people…  We get these words:

“…I will leave none of them behind; I will never again hide my face from them, when I pour out my spirit…” (NRSV).

This…  Oh, friends… this…

It’s the answer to my question.

Must we be sorry?

Yes—personally, communally, systemically; we must be sorry.

Must we be sorry forever?

Well, maybe still yes, but that doesn’t mean we must be overwhelmed with guilt or shame.  God is done with that!  We, also, need to be done with it.

Today, as people greatly forgiven, may we offer mercy.  May we choose not to hide our faces, but to accept forgiveness and to launch ourselves into the center of the hurting in order to bring healing, not because we need to be continually apologetic but because we have chosen now to follow good… to be the examples of love in our homes, in our communities, and around the globe. 

Let’s stop just being sorry and start being salvific.  This is what confession looks like.

L.

Everything is Cyclical

As I have struggled to find a rhythm and liturgy that work well for me, I have done some bouncing between the RCL and BCP daily offices.  Upon choosing to return to the BCP, this church year, it took longer than it should have for it to dawn on me that this means I will be studying the same Scriptures, morning to morning, that I studied two years ago… when I also used the BCP… When I started the year off with 48 straight days of posting and then took a moment to consider whether or not I was the best person for the job, as my already precarious world tilted just a little bit too far off its axis.  But I woke up on day 50 and wrote again.

If you’re new to this blog, welcome.  Let me tell you a few quirky things about myself, so we get off on the right foot.

Sometimes people worry that I share too much… that I am an open book.  This is probably because I have chosen to obliterate the filters that often cause us to spin our narratives in such a way that we look more like super heroes than human beings.  If you ever find yourself reading something here and think, “She is so unaware,” please refer back to this paragraph, where I freely admit that I am completely aware of what I am doing.  If you ever stumbled upon the things I write but keep locked away for no other day, you would understand.  Every word… every phrase… is intentional.  This does not imply that I don’t sometimes share more than is comfortable or say things that cross an invisible line in the shifting sand, but when I do; rest assured, I know I’m doing it.

No, there is no need to worry about the amount of information I publish but rather about the vast number of things I do not.  It’s not when I am speaking that you should be concerned but when I am silent.  This is the real gauge of whether or not I am OK...

I fully expect that as I re-navigate these passages, they will cause me to reflect on not so distant, but just out of reach, past interpretations and contexts. 

Let’s start with this:        

Ephesians 4:1, “I therefore, the prisoner in the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of the calling to which you have been called” (NRSV).

I am the right person for this job… for this being me… because it is exactly that to which I have been called.  And I would imagine if you stop to consider whether or not you are the right person for being you; you will find the same answer I did.  You are.

Two years ago, I was clinging to passages of fear in hopes that my greatest fears would be alleviated by them.  Remember #LessFearIn2016?  It has evolved:

Psalm 34: 4-5, 18, 22, “I sought the Lord, and he answered me, and delivered me from all my fears.  Look to him, and be radiant; so your faces shall never be ashamed… The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit… The Lord redeems the life of his servants; none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned” (NRSV).

These particular words (among others) reminded me that I am a “now what” kind of person.  They are the rest of the story.  Yesterday’s verses prompted me to remember that I am sought.  Today’s prompt me to remember to seek… and then to act.  For although I once lived in fear… and although I know all too well what it is to be brokenhearted and crushed in spirit… redemption is coming, and redemption is here.  #NoShame #Fearless

 
L.

Redemption

I might be getting ahead of myself as I dive back into the attributes of God for Thursday Theology.  I fully intend to write more about who God is, because I think this is important, but as I was working through Sacred Ordinary Days, this morning, I was struck by a "what God does" moment.  Interestingly, I think humanity has been trying to separate the concepts of who we are and what we do for a very long time.  There is some good that comes from that.  Life as a number or a position title really stinks.  But I think there is also value in recognizing that who we are often does, indeed, inform what we do.

Psalm 103:1-5 "Praise the Lord, my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.  Praise the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits— who forgives all your sins and heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from the pit and crowns you with love and compassion, who satisfies your desires with good things so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s" (NIV).

God redeems.

God redeems and redeems and redeems.

God calls us to help in redemption.

And then God redeems, some more.

It was not lost on me that, in my reading today, there was a theme of humility and testing.  It seems that in order for redemption to take place, there must be something (or someone) to redeem.  If I'm honest, I would like redemption to be sparkly and beautiful and easy.  It's not.  Sometimes it seems like we want to live in fairy tales, but the truth is, we really just want the happy endings.  If you have ever actually read or watched a fairy tale (especially in its original form), you know there is a great deal of peril involved.  And such is life.

Sometimes life is overwhelming.  We can't do it on our own, friends, but we can do it.  We're not on our own.

Psalm 115:1 "Not to us, Lord, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness" (NIV).

L.