10 November 2011

November 10, 2011

Texts: Psalm 90:1-8(12), Ezekiel 6:1-14, Revelation 16:1-7

The RCL readings continue with bloodshed, wrath, and destruction. I thought Sundays in November were bad enough. After Reformation and All Saints' Sunday, the doom and gloom, fire and brimstone comes. Now, in small doses, this can be effective. In larger doses, however, it is like trying to take a sip from a firehose. How do we remain faithful to a text that, in all honesty, makes us cringe when we read it? How do we remain faithful to a text in the event that we no longer cringe, but become ambivalent toward its words. It would be well and good to only read the parts of Scripture that I find appealing or that agree with my opinions... but to do so risks falling into the ditch of self-reliant theology that splices verses together to create a Bible that we can fashion after our own image.

It is difficult when God as Alpha and Omega, Beginning and End, seems to refer to our reality as humans in ways more than metaphorical: "Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations. Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God. You turn us back to dust and say, 'Turn back, you mortals,' For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past or like a watch in the night." To be certain, we are frail, rocked by whatever challenge happens to come our way. God is God from everlasting to everlasting, but God is not disaffected or ambivalent toward God's creatures. Ezekiel's refrain is "then you shall know I am the LORD." It was not enough to be brough out of slavery in Egypt; it was not enough to have God dwelling among them; it was not enough that God sent the Israelites into exile; God needed to make Godself more plain.

It is as though God is willing to do anything to be in relationship with us, to the point of exile, to the point of God exiling Godself on a cross. I cannot help but think that the words of Revelation after all of the destruction, 'It is done,' are meant to conjure not images of the destruction that has just occurred, but the finality of Christ's love for us. The Cruciform God reminds us how far God will go to show us he loves us, and at the same time reminds us how far we will go to reject God. That saving grace, undeserved, unrelenting, comes to us when we least expect it, reminding us we are dust, beautiful and blessed, not because the dust was worthy of such beauty or such blessing, but because that dust belongs to God.

1 comment:

Emmy Kegler said...

I haven't mentioned it before but I really appreciate these :) I read them whenever I can as a devotion. Thanks for sharing them, Mandy. It's nice to have your voice in my life even from far away.