Third Sunday of Easter, April 23, 2023
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
What shall we do with the drunken sailor?
Conduct yourselves with reverence during the time of your sojourning, realizing that you were ransomed from your futile conduct with the precious blood of Christ, as of a spotless unblemished lamb.
Drunken sailor Davey … hey, that’s me! The song suggests several things to do with me: throw him in the brig until he’s sober! Pull out the plug and wet him all over! Put him in the scuppers with the deck hose on him!
That last one might get my attention. Now, keep in mind that this is a sea shanty, a work song, which means it’s about the morning and what needs to get done, not so much about the drinking or the night before.
So whatever they do to me, it’s to get the future straight and not the past. I wish things were always that straightforward. Often I soak myself in judgment, blame, accusation and emotion rather than lots of water from the deck hose.
All this this second-guessing and self-pity moves me away from God. I am a sojourner, as Peter says. I am a stranger in a strange land. I want to move nearer God, not further away. God is where I came from. It was God in the first place who created this ability in me to “think.” If he’s not in charge of my thoughts, then who is?
Peter’s word translated “reverence” is also translated “fear” or “awe,” and I like the phrase “rebirth of wonder.” When I see my conduct as “futile” but also in that ugly moment feel God’s uncompromising love for me, then I fall on my face in a rebirth of wonder. Fear. Awe. Reverence.
Sojourner comes from Latin “under the day,” and it describes eloquently our out-of-control, episodic experience on earth: living one day at a time. But even more, “sojourner” is Latin’s rendition of a Hebrew word which mostly means foreigner.
We are aliens here, caught in time, working all day for our pharaohs. But in the night we remember Eden. Of course we look forward to heaven and wait for it. If heaven’s not my home, then Lord, what will I do? In the contemplations of the night, we feel our need for God and our unity with God. Just feel your way through Psalm 130.
Then, hark! The morning does come. This is the day that the Lord has made. Carpe diem! Sojourners travel in RVs around the country and help others. Sojourners stand up for loving justice and seek to define what faithful activism looks like today. Sojourners aren’t known for waiting for God or anything else. Other than occasionally a deck hose full of seawater to wake them up.
Peter’s words plant the seeds of both contemplation and action. “Conduct yourselves with reverence.” Unchecked, these seeds will grind each other into dust. Peter experienced this, but Jesus rescued him from his inner battle. His reminder of the “precious blood of Jesus” is surely as much for himself as for us.
In our time of sojourning, day after lifelong day, I am glad in the morning for the sweet scent of heaven in my nostrils, left from the night before, which makes it much more likely that by afternoon I will find my way.
Father, the rhythms of our dance are the rhythms of our worship, too, and I think if you’re the captain of our pirate ship, then we’ll work all day and dance all night, and lie down and sleep in peace, surrounded by your safety. And we won’t be pirates anymore. We’ll take off our masks. Underneath, we’ll see how much we look like you, like children of our living God.
 (Acts 2, Psalm 16, 1 Peter 1, Luke 24)
This devotion was originally published on the Third Sunday of Easter, April 30, 2017. I’m traveling today and don’t have time to write, and I thought this old one was pretty good, so I hope you liked it!
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
#
