Wise Cracker?

If you asked me the one thing I covet, I would have to say it is wisdom. Now if you asked me my definition of wisdom, it would be totally different from what it would have been a few years ago.

I always loved the stories of Solomon. Of all the Old Testament figures, I think he was the most interesting. After his father, King David, died, God more or less asked him what he desired. His response was wisdom and God granted it. As a child, my favorite story was about two new mothers fighting over a sole surviving infant. Solomon, in all authority, offers the child to be split in two, a supposed means to satisfy them both. He knows the child is safe, in that the real mother would give the child up before she would see it slain. Now that was savvy!

So wisdom has also been my prayer. In the beginning, I think I desired it for the ability to see beyond the struggles and dilemmas of my youth. As an adult, I pictured myself as one day being the benevolent,gray haired,little old lady rocking on her porch, friends and family flocking to her, seeking her sage advice on matters of life and God.

But I am beginning to see there are different shades of sage. Wisdom most often comes in the ability to "unpack" life. To search the memories of adolescence, seeing the hurt you carry were as much a result of your actions as the "bad guy" who wronged you. It is growing into adulthood, realizing the thing you teased your mother about is happening to you; feeling somewhat ashamed for the snide comments you and your siblings made behind her back. Remembering what it felt like to be in love and newly married - when all you saw was a new house and never yourself at 50+ paying off a 30 year note. And as in the case of my friend, Solomon, I think it was seeing with your heart. To see the fear and anguish a new mom suffered in light of losing her child. But just as wisely seeing the blind grief and anger of another mom who had already lost hers.

Wisdom is remembering, or if that word is not exactly accurate, then maybe imagining. To see the person not from the eyes of age or experience or even wisdom. But to see the person where they live, as they are. In the skin they are in. To revel in their passions, righteous or reckless. To cry with their sorrows, major or insignificant. To be accepting of their decisions, wild or prudent.

But most of all to thank God that we do not live in sameness. Whether that be age, maturity, or culture. That we are all different and that is a result of His very wise plan. Whether it be by hook or crook, we are not the same and by God, literally, that is a great thing.

Seeing the Hem of God

I have been very uneasy with the passages in scripture regarding Jesus "cleansing" the temple. I have heard folks use those words to promote activism, call me to righteous holiness, or ritual cleansing. But they have never been what I would call "comfortable". Now that I have realized, "comfort" is not what God is after, most of the time, I have pulled it out to study a bit.

In my world of questions, I have one for you. What if the incident was not Jesus letting go, but Jesus not able to fully contain the Divine within? As much as we would like to, we cannot dismiss the omnipotent, angry, jealous side of God. I cannot imagine how He must have felt seeing, through Jesus' eyes, the defilement of the Holy Place. The place He had built, through human hands, to house His heart. Where the people might come to meet and love Him.

The more I think about it, I am thinking maybe the fury we saw in Jesus was His attempt to hold God back. As close as God is to me, maybe I must learn to respect that side of Him that knows no bounds. His love is easy - the other? Not quite so much.

Jesus was the containment for the boundless-ness of God. In so many more ways than one.

Loose and Release

Loose the cords of mistakes binding us, as we release the strands we hold of others' guilt.

In my previous post I included an Aramaic version of The Lord's Prayer. The entire translation is very powerful, but this one line came back to me time and again. I shared it with a small group today and we spiritually "chewed" on it for awhile.

It is such a visual image, it almost overpowers. Of being bound with no recourse but a plea to the Lord Father to loosen the cords. As we worked through the verse, we came to the "releasing the strands that hold others' guilt" part and the air in the room suddenly had a tangible tension. In a gathering of only nine people, three of them had brothers that had been in prison for addiction-related crimes. This is a "middle" group. Middle age, middle income, middle class. Anglo living in a fairly peaceful suburb, yet this pain had touched one-third of the group. As we talked about releasing the strands, they told of personal violation and physical threat they received at the hands of these brothers, during their drug and/or alcohol induced frenzies. Two brothers were "clean", one for a year the other had been clean for several. The third was no longer alive, killed in a motor vehicle accident while drunk. It was as if I could almost feel the strands. Strands of fear for self and family. Strands of mistrust and anger. Strands of prejudice and inability to accept rehabilitation.

If we must ask for help in loosening the cords that bind us, aren't there many times we also need help releasing the strands we hold of others' guilt. The strand that not only strangles the other but imprisons us just as surely. One stronger that the others, because the chance for release has passed. I had no answers for my friends. I could only sit there in sadness for their pain. My only hope is that sharing the burden lightened it a bit.