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Ungodly
I will call to mind the deeds of the Lord; I will meditate on all your work. – Psalm 77:11a & 12a (NRSV)
There’s a problem with being made in the image of God: it’s easy to acquire a God complex.
“I have the divine right to…” “I hold the indisputable position to…” “I have the sovereign authority to…” “I have the superior righteousness to…” Fill in the blank with any example from the news. The divine right to go to war. The indisputable position to rewrite history. The sovereign authority to withhold food. The superior righteousness to deny freedom.
After all, God went to war, biblically speaking. God instituted famines, subordinated the histories of other gods, captured cities and peoples and subjected them to God’s divine will. We who are made in the image of God can surely do the same.
Of course, we might prefer not to see ourselves in the image of a warring, petty God.
More appealing might be: I have the divine right to love. The indisputable position to care for creation. The sovereign authority to demand justice. The superior righteousness to believe I am one of the “good guys” in a world of “bad guys.” Still a God complex, albeit in the image of a magnanimous God.
(There’s also the less obvious God complex, which sounds like: I am forever wrong. I hold no significance. I cannot change. I am subject to the world’s whims. Still an immovable position that inflates self-perspective.)
Against any complex, the psalms remind us: Our works are not wonders for meditation. Our images are not the grace to which people turn. Our reputations are not the power by which earth trembles or waters part.
We are made in the image of God, yes. And we are not God, ever.
To confuse the two is ungodly.
Prayer: Call my mind to meditate on you, O God—morning, noon, and night.
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional (ucc.org)
Many Miracles
The crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard [the disciples] speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? … [Yet] in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power. What does this mean?” Acts 2:6-12 excerpted (NRSV)
Language is a delightfully mystical phenomenon. Set aside the oddities of grammar and the hazards of translation, and you’ll find that language is a kind of miracle: A few funny scribbles on the page, a line here, a swoop there, and voilà! The scribbles now convey ideas that live beyond the page and the ink.
I can write three symbols, for example—R, E, D—and your mind’s eye immediately paints a picture of blooming roses, or of campfire sparks drifting up to the sky on a summer night, or of your grandmother’s red sweater that she wore to church on Pentecost and Christmas, always with a gold broach appropriate to the holiday.
Letters are only scribbles and sounds, yet when assembled together, they can capture our lived experiences. Miraculous!
As with most miracles, of course, language can be a source of confusion and conflict. Do we insist upon a single interpretation, confining language like wine to an old flask? Do we worry its inconsistencies to the point of death-by-grammar, concerned that nothing so messy as language can yield new possibilities—like the darkened sun and the bleeding moon welcoming God’s new day? When communication is strained, should our tongues retreat from language in favor of silence?
I imagine someone muttered to themselves on the day of Pentecost: “This is too many tongues, too much fire, too many languages, too much noise.” But who is God, if not the One with too many miracles still unfolding?
Prayer: I prefer to understand it all, O God. Thank heavens the Holy Spirit continues to interrupt and confuse me with new miracles.
cross-posted with the Daily Devotional (ucc.org)
Just for Us
Now the apostles and the believers who were in Judea heard that the Gentiles had also accepted the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him, saying, “Why did you go to uncircumcised men and eat with them?” – Acts 11:1-3...
Eastertide Psalm: Peace
O people, blessed are you who come in the name of the One who was and will be. In death, in life, in renewal the Promise says to the mourner: "Peace be with you even when the wounds seem to suggest peace is not possible." O people, blessed are you who come in the name...
Noisy
Praise God with trumpet sound, with lute and harp! Praise God with tambourine and dance, with strings and pipe! Praise God with clanging cymbals; praise God with loud clashing cymbals! - Psalm 150:3-5 (NRSV, adapted for inclusive language) I grew up in a quiet...
Empty
"Do not hold on," you said, and so we empty our expectations of their aspirations for control. Hallelujah! "Go and tell," you said, and so we release life's miracles from the duty of explanation. Hallelujah! "Wait and see," you said, and so we accept the work of...
Nicodemus
Dear One: I loved you in secret, so I must grieve you in secret. Every revelation from you is now a salve for my grief, and I bless the holy breath that gave birth to my spirit. I once sought you in shadows, now I bury you in the shadows with aloe and myrrh and linen—...
In the Garden
How often I've thought it would come to this: a battle, a stand-off with swords, a line in the sand between powers; me against you my ally turned into my foe because you were never an ally I trusted; uncertainty mutated into self-doubt projected into...
Ashes to Ashes
Love me until the end, O Christ, until the ashes of this body match the dust of these feet, and together they fold into the holiness of earth's soil. Love me until the end, O Christ, until every word is finished and every argument laid to rest in the shallow grave of...
Palm Sunday Confession
We have shown ourselves to be fools, O Teacher. Celebrating the Robin Hood come to challenge the prince, we failed to recognize the outcast Sovereign before us. Cheering the jester's parade in all its mockery of power, we ignored its earnest portrayal of the realm of...
New Ways
Through the dry desert, a river. Through the yawning grief, perfume. Through the war-torn streets, laughter. Through the fallow season, a harvest. Through the dense fog, a sunbeam. Through the howls of night, peace. Through the vast wilderness, new ways. God have...
