2024-11-30 A Meditation on Repetition
“8 We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, 2 for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. 3 For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, 4 begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints— 5 and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us. 6 Accordingly, we urged Titus that as he had started, so he should complete among you this act of grace. 7 But as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in all earnestness, and in our love for you—see that you excel in this act of grace also.” (2 Cor 8:1-7 ESV)
Repetitive, eyes on the game so much so that Zen is accomplished, and in Zen, to lash forth, to Act without Design, is a product of Repetitive, soul couched in some distant memory or distant reassurance, a mother’s love, and friend’s dutiful compliment or deed, a father’s estate and gladsome demeanor.
Repetitive, the eyes on the ball know of a Strength beyond compare, because it goes with the flow so much so as to bewilder. It goes with the flow to allow the others in the race a jaunt ahead of us, because we were momentarily degraded for a bit or fighting a personal flu or battle. We don’t fight the Zen or the momentum, but Peacefully Expect that our repetitive elsewhere dwelling places are firm rock of foundation, and that we shall return.
Like the Son, who rose from the dead. Like Jesus, who spoke mountains into being. Like the Spirit, who Taught a gladsome quadrant of souls to Indulge the Desire amongst one another, to rightly Hear and be Informed, to Love on each other because we are Heard, like all those pentecostals of the first century were understood and heard.
Like the Father, who makes Himself vulnerable in the Son. Who dares risk all composure and hidden resolve, for a Tomorrow Victory couched in the People not in the earthly power. We are those Zen who lash out in friendly manner, unapologetic because we are muttering to ourselves, or silently dreaming, about some Other that couches us in all those secret memorized lines from our upbringing, the strange things we remember, our personal Experience with making peace across jurassic lines of heave-ho and blatant aggression: our Experience is able to be franchised; it is a Product for the hearers of our graduated or gone-large Footprint. Against dinosaurs of the faith. Against aggressive frustrated souls. Against a world that shall not Appease nor Encourage us, except to have given us those hidden Elsewhere comforts.
We act without plan, we do not hoard up nor plan for Tomorrow, except by way of winning-by-losing Today. To accept the degradation because we are confident that the Father, much less vulnerable than we His children, remains rock steady. To accept the upbuilding anew, come another day, because we are not ashamed to be Strong. To be Strong in the Spirit. To be Voraciously or Excessively rebounding, because we needed that “go low” (He descended to Hell) to get the upward momentum (He rose and ascended to Heaven).
If this means anything to any of us, it means something to us personally. It means Rock-Steady around just in Whom we have put our Trust. It means gladsomely exchanging the Peace with those who shared a momentary Glimpse of the heavenly in the song or the prayer. It means a Zen—to borrow, and perhaps misuse, a term—surprisingly pugnacious and prickly. We lash out a bit, because it comes with the ebb and flow. It Blesses a stranger. It Decides, to think positive thoughts on behalf of this One or that One. It recognizes utter scheming and sacrilege, designs and caprice, and refuses to make that the storyline. Our storyline is that we Love each other because we are First Loved. And we make no apologies nor evolutionarily cynical explanations. We are those who are Pentecostal around doing whatsoever comes to mind, if done in faith. Here, and here no longer alone, we stand.