Error of the unprincipled

June 2, 2020                (today’s lectionary)

 Error of the unprincipled     

Beloved!

Now that is a good way to start the day, hearing Peter call me beloved. He doesn’t know me, and he’s never been a great judge of character, but I’ll take it anyway. The Rock speaks. I listen. Thank you, Peter.

Wait for and hasten. Both-and. Be still, but be alert. Peter’s similes are strong and scary … because of the coming of the day of God the heavens will be dissolved in flames. Wait for it. According to his promise we wait for new heavens and a new earth, a righteous earth, a Good Earth. O Lord, hasten its coming!

Therefore, David, get rid of every pimple you have caused to come upon your face. Pop those babies if they are there, and stop eating that junk if they aren’t there yet. Because they will be. Take your body, your living body, given to you by God, SERIOUSLY. Live in peace with your body.

What is God saying to YOU, while I am eating a buttery blueberry muffin and drinking espresso with heavy cream?

Stop asking them and look at your own darn self. The disconnects in your life are amazing! You can do this thing, these things, these righteous acts of life, anytime. I’ll be here when you do. Consider the patience of our Lord as salvation.

Avoid the error of the unprincipled. Do not fall from your own stability. Grow in grace. Know Jesus and keep God’s commandments.

God, you give me so much space to grow. (Space of course to hang myself as well, but even then you’ll be standing there on the gallows with me, offering your life for mine one … more … time.) But it’s the growing that you invite me into and ask me for, and I love you so much for that. How can I not grow in such a rich culture, fertilized with everything I need? Can I ask you a couple of questions?

What is the error of the unprincipled?

You have said it: turn away from invitation, turn away from grace, be selfish, angry, and sin. See things only from your own point of view. Instead, look around. Be still and know. Let me love you.

Do you really see me as stable?

Well, David, it’s your stability. It’s what you’ve got, so deal with it. In your “own stability,” I said. Not someone else’s. Not some ideal of stability. Take your own deep breaths and stand up on your feet. Notice the heels and toes of your feet, tip back and forth, and balance. Be still, breathe deep, balance. Be stable. Make decisions that are planted in grace, grow roots in grace, flower in grace and ripen … in grace.

Know without doubt, know even without thinking that you please me just because I made you. You aren’t as strong as you think you are, David. But I am. Strong. Don’t be afraid.

 

You are a mountain before mountains were begotten

You are the earth, you are the world, you are everlasting

You are God

 

We begin as dust and return to dust,

Which of course is as it will be,

Created ones that we are

Our course in time is short

Yours is eternal

 

Call me into your eternity, O God

In my seventy-eighty-some years

So much has been fruitless toil,

(Sometimes I can’t help but see it that way)

Now

As I listen I just can hear your call

Cant’ I just fly away?

 

Like a bird on a wire

Like a drunk in a midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free

But it’s you, it’s you, O God

Who makes me free

 

Fill us

At daybreak

With your kindness

 

Enlighten the eyes of our hearts

Show us the hope that belongs to your call

Let your work be seen by your servants

Let your glory be seen by your children …

Our children …

We and all the rest of us

As it was is now and ever shall be

Amen

 It is a terrible and impossible task to live our such-long lives here, on this as yet unrighteous earth, with others screaming in our ears as we scream in theirs. Every anxious moment is like a thousand years. Eden has disappeared in an idyllic mist, serpents scratch for traction on our arms, sink their ugly fangs deep.

“Throw them off,” God says.

“Yes,” Jesus says.

I say something like, “Oh, Lord, won’t you do it please?  I am not worthy. I believe, but please, help my unbelief.”

Sometimes in response I hear something like, “Stand up like a man.” I don’t know if that is God. He is gentle and holds me close. The snake falls away of its own accord.

Be like Jesus. Just say yes. Let me flow through you like blood, spread out from you like butter, bring joy to you like champagne. Fizz up! Smile. Be happy. Trust me.

Jesus, you hold a coin with Caesar’s face on it and then look up into the shielded dark eyes of your questioners, those black suit Pharisees who have already decided you are from Satan, or at least that you will be the death of them. What are you thinking, Jesus? And what after all those thoughts and conversation with your Father, will you say?

Bring me one of those coins of the realm.

Whose face is on this coin?

Then it must belong to him. So give it back to him. Pay your taxes, honor the king.

Whose face is on the front and back of your lives?

They were confused at first, so Jesus asked them, Who made you, and who keeps you, and who lifts his face up to you, who gives you peace?

Oh, I get it. God does all that.

Then give God back what belongs to him.

God always wants you to avoid the error of the unprincipled.

DO NOT see things from your own point of view.

You are stable as you can be, each of you, in your life here in Israel, held by Rome, taxed by Rome. Don’t be afraid. Render under Caesar, yes. But more, far more, render unto God what is God’s. Relax and let him have you. Let yourselves be loved like the child you are.

They were utterly amazed. And so am I.

What will we each do with our amazement?

I don’t want to dilute or melt down the words of Jesus, arguing their meaning with others when we just want to hear the sound of our own voices. I do want to sing and praise God, and pray for people in their own tongues, and listen to the birds. With all that I am and all that I have, I want to stay in the way of Jesus, and keep on being amazed.

(2 Peter 3, Psalm 90, Ephesians 1, Mark 12)

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