2024-11-09 A Meditation on Persistent Waves

“4 “O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am! 5 Behold, you have made my days a few handbreadths, and my lifetime is as nothing before you. Surely all mankind stands as a mere breath! Selah 6 Surely a man goes about as a shadow! Surely for nothing they are in turmoil; man heaps up wealth and does not know who will gather! 7 “And now, O Lord, for what do I wait? My hope is in you. 8 Deliver me from all my transgressions. Do not make me the scorn of the fool! 9 I am mute; I do not open my mouth, for it is you who have done it. 10 Remove your stroke from me; I am spent by the hostility of your hand. 11 When you discipline a man with rebukes for sin, you consume like a moth what is dear to him; surely all mankind is a mere breath! Selah” (Ps 39:4-11 ESV)

Crescendo of simply the determined waves of an ocean: we note the elevated alert level surrounding simple human need in our midst, friendly banter in our midst, concern in our midst. The pinnacle, our faith’s fruits, the tower assembled and highest elevations of Christ-like simple prayer reached… and it is almost fitting that in such climate tears show up or souls panic out loud as to a devastating earthly judgment: it was only all invited, as we knew we would throw away the fruits; to face squarely what we did to ourselves as bringing nothing but impossible-to-face horror.

Crescendo, as these waves are merciless to the one who would like to be found in Jesus. To be found goody-two-shoes, simply to “please Jesus” who might be “mad at me”. That is a teaching we strive to undo, but like any childhood PTSD it calls first of all for our patience: one cannot “unteach” deeply held doctrine. Our relevant—we’ve done such and more to ourselves, and still do—concern, our tower disassembled and the foundations laid anew.

Crescendo of a mighty breakwater that tolerates the waves, we are not so superhuman as to save the souls of others, but we know a Master who can. Jesus no joking matter, is a Divinely-Originating human with whom, in whose loving arms, within whose loving care, we actually put aside the party spirit, the urge to celebrate in unholy ways: He is enough! His is a sufficient love! See the time accumulating miracle of simple rest in His sanity. So be forgiven, O angry one, be more than forgiven: inspire, O mutilated one, O abused one.

Do we still bear the wounds of our indiscretions past? Truly, we sagely, but reluctantly, welcome that Absence of works-righteousness, the post-party—if it got a bit carried away—utter insanity of self abasement. The morning after is Cause to recollect that no evangelist’s simple admonition to “Trust in Christ” can quite match the pain felt, the absence of footing felt, the sweet denial of simple verve and pluck such as we own on more rested mornings. We have that tenacious verve and pluck because God works in Time and in Seasons; what was it, that caused us once again to go down that forbidden path, knowing it would only lead to a strange locus of rest or of resolve, still intoxicated by the party spirit, or trying to make it all just go away… the average pew-sitter may not in fact know this level of degradation, of personal wishing-it-all-away.

But our hunch is that they—and we—do know it. It also reveals itself as a block-headed dispute with our other friends in the faith. It reveals itself as gnawing disdain or simple dismissal of the down-on-their-luck streetcorner dweller. It reveals itself in bald ingratitude in personal relationships. Our faith needs to be utterly devoid of hoarding or accumulating Good Deeds: there is no “wrong kind of person to show up here” in the proper Church. Those who by habit and past regrettable experience, induction, breach have a sinful streak almost “programmed in”, who find it easy to be the “dry drunk” or the tempter (why are my words always heard as tainted by indulgences?); we acknowledge there are habits to “break”, and these are very difficult. But also, because of these habits writ-into-our-souls, we are gifted with such an awareness of in toto, top to bottom need for Christian Gospel.

We can focus and invoke, evoke a Spirit Heavenly because we are “being ourselves” post-testimony: our words past, they more than suffice in the hands of a loving friend, to make amends and promise a new Tomorrow. We have this hope in us, that we learn of Christ’s love for us, via our own love for the downtrodden… yet, we do not know what our other hand is doing, we are not so self-aware of our goodness to the downtrodden… still, God plants in us Heavenly music and composure Assured. We are His children, and, as children, laugh at what patience we show to some souls, and impatience towards others: we simply don’t “like” each other, it can seem. But also, see how the temptation to “sin” is a pressure-valve being released: it heals us, even, to see sin in its small ways at work: because that is the Sincere personal Gospel and Testimony. That we needed that end to the perfect self-righteous streak. We loved on the “Christ” in our midst who tired, who indulged at the party with a lowly endearing anointing, who was angry at times. He left it to us His disciples to die for actual sins, pointing all the while to Him who died for the sins of others. And so we acknowledge: as we do to this one insignificant soul in our midst, so we do to a whole cohort and company of other souls who are afflicted by our afflictions, blessed by our blessings, encouraged by our encouragements. Maybe this spells the prophetic sense of heightened alert on one level—excommunication or its variants and various lesser judgments—and party spirit, throwing it all away on another level. That is, things seemingly disparate, meld and form around each other, as Judgment draws nigh and as a Second Coming makes wistful soldiers of the sainted ones.