2023-09-21 A Meditation on Social Expectations
“3 For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. 4 For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, 5 so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members one of another. 6 Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; 7 if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; 8 the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.” (Ro 12:3–8 ESV)
Overcoming expectations, each of us has a bit of a footprint ready to be superceded. Enlarged, the frame broken out of, nasty rumors and dismissals patiently fought and stared down, the soldier reassures the self that he or she has license to thrive. To thrive is to overcome. It is to be unapologetic regarding ascendancy and primacy. First in line, first to see the battle joined, first to propose a familial talking point or group mentalism, the brave heart believes even in the midst of overwhelming odds, social cages, barriers, quietude of a shy variety or bumbling words of a seeker and of one finding home base.
To be bold is to pay attention, and allow words to be given in the hour, words that proceed from a legion or copious amount of time of self-improvement, yet also confident that no time or delay of so-called “discipleship” is requisite in order to be conversational: we are speaking true and tested and cleansed words because we have such a heart within. The heart has not proven itself so much as it has received mercy. The heart has not fixed itself up so much as it has patiently walked through each valley of shadow and death, through each trial and slander, through each caveat or point of contention. We know the beauty of conversation, the focus no more on sinful and wretched states, but on second chances and beauty of an at times halting or nervous variety.
Still, such is the calling to ascend. To be peace and believing with the elder brother of so much scripture. To be eager and vibrant in the spirit regarding occasion to form in unison, together, to recognize a long-lost affinity or affection, such as is found between a father or mother and son or daughter, between a friend who speaks words of eager familiality.
The soldier, then, peeps out and in measure according to what grace has been given her or him, speaks up: here is the vision; here is the generational project that will usher us in greater safety through the rivers of doubt and hegemony and despair, through false headship and compromised family bonds. Through death and fearmongering. Through rumor and tempting scenarios, elicited, recreated, proven again like beating a dead horse. All of us have our measure of “I’m sorry…”; “Dear folks, I apologize…”, and all of us have our measure of venturing boldly into the night, created, formed, discipled, and possessed of a winning hand.
This is the hand of Gospel plainspeech. Tokens and totems, something to salute, a lesson in life, a beautiful engagement that is a bit hands off or faith-filled, an external encourager or an internal reprisal: “Oh yeah! I do remember it is between Law and Gospel that we fight!” Oh, yeah, I do see occasion for the narratives and stories, the proper family bonds, to be illuminated like a manuscript, with terms of affection for the grace warrior, with words that bless the found mercy, with words that heal all who are present, not just the wordsmith or the jokester, but all. For we long for an end to the rupture and to the breaking points. We long for yes quiet at times, but a reverent and holy quiet, that is knowing that the “kids will be okay”. We are strangely called today to rest in peace with each other, and tomorrow to man the ramparts and go boldly into the night.