2025-02-18 A Meditation on Golden Ticket

“26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. 27 And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 28 And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. 29 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. 30 And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” (Rom 8:26-30 ESV)

Against the backdrop of searching, of gradually finding, of silver key, golden ticket: Law, as in our personal measure of self-worth, of validated good deeds, of factually-speaking there being a gradation of Quality, of who and what is walking in Holiness, of diverse tickets punched: the saint in the pews actually and in fact Holy; the beggar on the street corner actually and in fact persecuted; the professional holy (clerical) guild member astute and actually, in fact oxygenating. Giving breathing room. Expositing in plain humility of purpose, in street sweeper unadorned, unfashionable, unsophisticated, rehearsal of Basic Notion.

To accumulate good deeds, then: this is a long goal of the Law and Gospel distinction. That is, Law and Gospel arises against a backdrop of truth in the mixture, a measure of Discovered veracity in the recipe. That veracity is God with us vis-a-vis hard work, measured deeds, ambition to be More. And rightly, that is no gospel to my ears! But it is the Gospel’s birthplace. It is the Nazareth of our quest, where Christ is found, initial and originating there and in a stark reminder: that all peoples have their nominal careers or outlay, but only on one level are these efficient and pragmatic, sensible; on other levels there is ample need for dilution, for measured efficiency, for more insight and pragmatism: we are inefficient! We are comical! We are awaiting some slender steel to permeate, to slide through, to slice up the morass of boredom.

And that is a morning stretching routine, a comfort with discomfort and being taken out of our normal or comfort zone. The silver key begins to resemble itself when once we’ve endeavored under an alternate narrative, the one claiming Holiness as in what is found in certain people’s outlay: some are saints! Not all is evenhanded variants on a tied game. Some folks, they find hot knife through butter in life, in all their outlays and endeavors; they find firm footing in any scenario; and this, this plays out the one place where equality reigns: that the “winner” in our midst is—cue the Calvinist or Reformed sighs over total depravity—is immediately Tested. Is immediately Tempted. Is almost comically remade as Fool and Beggar, or, if that isn’t copacetic, is hiding out in some Perch most dastardly, hiding out because the Gospel goes All the Way. It is a relentless assault on a relentless enemy, and Today… if you hear His voice!

To then awaken to the grown man’s, woman’s comfort zone, is also to invite back in the adolescent and youthful spirit competitive, self-faulting, hateful to one’s own flesh, marginalized, ruined, cornered, diminished horror flick of Real Life. We may be blessed and assured through rhythmic song and dance, of pewsitting and prayer, that we are headed straight for Heaven. But sometimes that comfort zone, that sense of being Saved, is only because we have restricted or edged out the more worrisome spirits. So we do well to go out of our comfort zone, knowing a Gospel suited for His works not our own, for His morality not our own, to be labelled anew “Sinner” but not to let that shorten or halt our quest for His Authority and Love in our lives. All are equal under the Law, sinners though veritable hierarchies of holiness do exist. All are also in a tumble of their own confused safety nets and avoidance mechanisms. We learned in our troubled youth to fight back by stating something theologically pre-determined: that Work, our Labors under the sun, would be our relief, would spell our License to Be. Only, what today is a simpler gesture, a plain Encounter with our world gone truly mad, and we… the buck falling straight into our own camp, that we Can make a difference through simple gestures.