2023-03-21 A Meditation on True Absolution

“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. 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. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints,” (Eph 6:11–18 ESV)

When we say we are soldiers, when we say we are living on the edge, when we say all is momentum, there is a backstory of some enervated, eviscerated, lesser brand of ourselves. That is, we are made mighty for the fight, because of acting on momentum rather than safe accumulation and steps. We lunge forth, not because of wanting to kill and destroy, but in labors around an inner dynamo that has become heroic, fit for the hour, ready and able: our former lives were swept up in petty impossibilities, ennui, self-loathing or ugly irreverence. We were brash and downtrodden, boastful and shy, unfit and categorically swept up in imitating the lame societal “norm”.

Then to realize that on any given hour, war is met inside the human heart. We are converts who build and assemble inspired sets of deeds, only the next morning to be degraded and attacked, called to put conscious word and testimony to our faith labors because those solidify the structure and recreate for us a life on the edge. We do not bank on any accumulated experience, but rather go back to Day One: what called us to the service? What ended our societal striving and began our divine edge? What was it like to be frustrated and hopeless, and what is it like this day to repent of all of that, that is, to live for the hour, to live for what good things are given back to us: not hating our own flesh, but moving on from mistakes and things so difficult to absolve.

We struggle to absolve tedious deeds past, tedious self-embarrassments, tedious reminders that we might even be “different”, “more sinful”, “unacceptable”, to the rank and file. Yet today the light shines a bit longer: Serve, O man, O woman! You redeem yourself not by your courage nor by your insane forays into enemy territory, but simply because you have signed up, to make the same sacrifice and end-of-former-things that each recruit is making. You are buzzed about, and valued, and new creations this day: the camp needs you; the camp has no time to fuss about coveted and idolatrous structures being impinged upon. Today we lunge forth, momentum-wise, in battle with an inner demon that teaches us the fight. That teaches us the Author and Perfecter of our faith is met in Christ Jesus (Heb 12:2). Who had momentum. Who hated the deeds that robbed the faith: believe, that He is the One; strive, to enter His peace; build and habituate, to upset the downward slander and tug. This day is Day One, again.