2022-10-27 A Meditation on Gracious Language

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ’s sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort.” (2 Co 1:3–7 ESV)

Grace is in part a language intent on an immediate need and concern, that our very words tend to unredeemed Law, that our very words can on the other hand make the unexpected turn, can take the lightening load off, can feel out a redemption in light of basic facts. No hard matter is Grace but rather the conviction that all language and life tends to edifices of Law (howsoever well-built and strong those may be).

See Paul walk the tightrope with words so gracious as the scriptures above. See us dally near to the pain and the Cross, but by the faithful preacher’s words, by the unique sense of conviction she or he bears, there is honest fruit from simple tongue and speech.

For to soldier is no different than to win with the pen, no different than to preach, no different than to uphold against all odds and in a coming storm, basic race-to-the-scene outlays, basic personal inspiration as to what all—invisible to some peers—this war is about. Yes, the battle lines are invisible to a multitude, but to us crystal clear and bearing clarion call.

So the deep-rooted avoidance of the holy speech of Paul, avoiding any words that might trigger associations: he ministers via this poetry, rather than by his systematic theology, showing us how individual concerns are meted out with love and awareness and in a way devoid of any lustful concession or any other such sin that might, that does, creep in when once we resolve to walk the narrow path.

The narrow path resolves not even to know of evil: this is the fruit of the soul that has wrestled demons: “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Eph 6:12). In so doing he arrives at a circumcised speech, a flirtatious speech, one that edges near to deep mercies and love, near to sensations most pleasant and evocations to be sated, yet no indulgence but a word play around such notions as the word itself, “comfort” (above). See him wed this word to “patiently endure”, that is, to a clarification made with permission, asking if we might add a bit of instruction to the heavenly banquet around said “comfort”.

Permission to say words like “patiently” that in any other guise might qualify as Law. It is Law to prat on about how one must submit to being patient, to prattle on about sharing in suffering, and such notions that, until we come to trust the preacher with our heart of hearts, are Law.

But no more today, with this passage, with all Pauline writing on the matter of Grace: we allow him to insert the qualification because it itself is heavenly: at times, we long for such law, when it comes with an apology, or when it is meted out in caution: “Don’t make this the main thing, only let it be answer to your soul’s question: ‘What shall I do to earn this favor, this comfort?’”. It is answer to a heart first of all converted by grace, and then pleadingly bringing back in modicums of what was formerly Law but now is even in that form, in fact, Grace. For, Paul pleads, if we understand what he just said, then it is a delight thus to be able to work for the Lord on High.

So believes the soldier about his or her invocation of might, of steel, of perfunctory practicality suited for wartime. And so is the soldier’s plea: know me as one gentle of heart and peace in believing; know these times of war as only part of the birth pains; see that a good judgment and good executive decisions, are behind the entrenched battle lines; see that we carry in our hearts a faith bedrock so illustrious as immediately to evoke its opposite: hatred, enmity, warring madness. So do be that brand of soldier who meditates on deeper peace than any full metal jacket can ultimately administer. See that brand of soldier nonetheless also in possession of a belief, that all time is a personal battle in this life. See therefore times and seasons of community formation and of peacetime society. See the sadness with which military might is turned to, yet also after that turn is made, bedrock experience of a soldiering might, cohort, deeply dreaming and hoping, having turned a necessary corner.

We have a certain second language as well in our own faith statements: over and against a whole realm of demand and Law. Over against this, we can say truly the unthinkable, that in truth we are saved even before we fulfill any onerous legal climb. That is, grace is not just for omissions and commissions, but for life that continues to be incomplete, for life that resolutely says “No!”, not just “Sorry”, to faith’s rudiments of law and demand.

So we thought the spirit was saying, shape up; dialog; seek spiritual direction. Yet in fact all calls to such works of supererogation are also calls to reject outrightly that path towards imagined sanctification. It cannot be repeated enough, that the soldier is living on a prayer that something of merit will be found in their hearts, not for their deeds—not even for their heroism—but for the sake of Jesus. Jesus here is the one who fulfilled all Law without denying His people and His mission, namely, to begin just for a moment to absolve those pent up and bogged down and wishing to make religion some kind of upward climb.

So see our idols crashed down and our totems tarnished: it made sense to wish to better ourselves, but something better is here: Grace for the strange and liminal hour when we realize we were indeed of good intent; we were indeed wishing to be holier; we were indeed, nevermind that, pent up with existing sins even before we turned to our soul’s betterment. Time is now: Grace is here; preachers are sought; power structures are realigned, for the church has an “in” that is mighty, behind enemy lines, secret agents of a Gospel at odds with systems of finance and commerce, politicking, think tanks, at odds with career tracks and company men and women, at odds with formal churchmanship and demanding ecclesiologies; only, at odds only insofar as these can, on a good day, be redeemed and focal points of patient Nirvana, discovery, outward turning, inspiration. Yet, delight today, for a moment, in the “Okayness” of the soul far from perfected, and having no promise unto a future betterment either, until that last day comes and until the resurrection of the body. We are the wounded risen, and content to stay this way whilst heaven sent healing does its secret work. Jesus truly cares to heal, not just to surround Himself with the posh and the sophisticated faithful.