TOE TAPPING

Matthew 14:22-33

²²Then he made the disciples get into the boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. ²³After doing so, he went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. ²⁴Meanwhile the boat, already a few miles offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it. ²⁵During the fourth watch of the night, he came toward them, walking on the sea. ²⁶When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. “It is a ghost,” they said, and they cried out in fear. ²⁷At once [Jesus] spoke to them, “Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.” ²⁸Peter said to him in reply, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” ²⁹He said, “Come.” Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water toward Jesus. ³⁰But when he saw how [strong] the wind was he became frightened; and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” ³¹Immediately Jesus stretched out his hand and caught him, and said to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” ³²After they got into the boat, the wind died down. ³³Those who were in the boat did him homage, saying, “Truly, you are the Son of God.”

                                                           

The small group of students began to meet with me just seven weeks ago to begin their Confirmation preparation process.  Each of these young women (no guys this year) are college students and each is coming into this with their eyes open, freely, not in reaction to some familial expectation or what all their friends and classmates are doing (this is at a large state university so the friends and classmates are decidedly NOT doing this).  Each has made the decision that the time is right to move toward this sacrament.  What exactly makes the time “right” is different for each of them and one of the young women is not yet convinced that she is ready to be Confirmed but is convinced she needs to at least actively move in that direction. Very mature.  This is one reason I love walking with college students toward Confirmation, toward Christ.  No one is making them do it.  There is a real freedom there, a freedom that opens up space in their lives for the Spirit to enter and work significant change.

One of the students is Bianca.  Bianca was baptized as a baby but was never raised with any connection to Christ, any connection to the Church.  Her actual knowledge of Christ and the teachings of the church were just about zero.  Not her fault.  She just never had the chance.  But God began to work in her life, began to move within her in God’s typically spectacular way.  Well, maybe it’s better to say, in God’s spectacularly ordinary way.  It was through a boyfriend. And the boyfriends’ mother.  Lot’s of college students have boyfriends or girlfriends – and pretty much all have mothers.  That’s pretty ordinary.   This young man is a person of faith and prayer.  The Mom is a woman of faith and prayer.  That’s the spectacular part.  It was through them that Bianca first came to see how faith-filled people live their lives, saw the significant practical impact of Jesus and Catholic Christianity on how they negotiated the realities of life.  So Bianca, on their advice, looked up the Newman Center and entered into our Confirmation preparation.

Not having near the same background as most of the other girls she seemed to be a little tentative, unsure, feel a bit unsteady when we first began meeting.  Who in her shoes wouldn’t feel that way?  Yet, each week Bianca had something to say that made it clear that she was engaged in the discussions, was thinking about it outside of our meetings and was taking it in.

At our last meeting of the semester, the week before finals and the beginning of the Christmas break I asked these “Countesses of Confirmation” (as I refer to them in my humorously sophisticated way) to sum up how they have changed over the weeks or how Christ had impacted them, taught them or worked in them.  What each of these young women had to say was inspiring in its depth and thoughtfulness and it was clear that Jesus’ Spirit was truly at work in each of their lives.  (Do I have a great job, or what!)  As is her habit, Bianca spoke last.  She said that she has changed in that when she began the process she didn’t understand God, and wasn’t sure she even had a relationship with God. “But now I know that I really do have a relationship to God. That’s how I’ve changed.”  And pointing out the window, across the small lawn, to the first of three small steps leading up into the Center she said, “I know I’m just up on that first little step, but I’m there.”

My reaction?  Well,  beyond once again thinking to myself, as I do so many times working with students, “I can’t believe I actually get paid to do this,”  was the thought, “Bianca, you are wrong!  You are so wrong……..That is NOT a little step.”  I wanted to say, “Bianca, you are climbing out of the boat!  You are Peter and have managed to see, amidst the storm and wind of life, Jesus walking on the water.  You, Bianca, have seen, in the guise of a boyfriend and his mother, the one - the One – who offers you hope that maybe, just maybe, you can walk on water, too!

The passage from Matthew just says that Peter got out of the boat and began to walk on the water.  I figure since paper was hard to come by, and expensive, Matthew had to leave out a few things for the sake of brevity and the paper budget.  Like the wide-eyed GULP Peter took when, after he invited Jesus to invite him (Peter) out of the boat and onto the water, and Jesus said, “Go for it, Peter.”  (Jesus had to have a bit of a chuckle at that – He knew that Peter sometimes engaged his mouth before putting his brain in gear).  Matthew had to leave out the actual process of climbing out of the boat – which I am sure was a bit more involved than Matthew could fit on the paper and stay within budget.  Here’s what he left out.

When Peter hung that first leg over the rail of the boat, leaning out as far as he could and stretching down to reach the water he gave the water a few tentative, unsure, unsteady taps with his toes – just to see if the water really was solid.  After a few toe taps he brought that test leg in and then sat on the rail with his legs dangling over the water.  Then easing off the rail of the boat, weight supported by his hands, arms straining, he eased himself down to the water.  Imagine the widening of his eyes when, with a touch of panic, he realizes it’s just a bit too far down and he’s going to have to let go and drop the last inch or two.  But, drop he did – inches in distance but miles in significance

Yes, I am sure that for Bianca these first steps seem a bit tentative, unsure, and unsteady but Peter’s first steps were no less tentative, unsure, and unsteady.  True enough.  But tentativeness isn’t the issue.  Climbing out of the boat is the issue.  Bianca’s climbing out.

A BBQ and a Flashlight

Abraham - The End

Genesis 15: 1-12, 17-18

¹ Some time after these events, this word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision:  “Fear not, Abram!  I am your shield; I will make your reward very great.” ² But Abram said, “O Lord GOD, what good will your gifts be, if I keep on being childless and have as my heir the steward of my house, Eliezer?” ³ Abram continued, “See, you have given me no offspring, and so one of my servants will be my heir.” ⁴ Then the word of the LORD came to him: “No, that one shall not be your heir; your own issue shall be your heir.” ⁵ He took him outside and said: “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so,” he added, “shall your descendants be.” ⁶ Abram put his faith in the LORD, who credited it to him as an act of righteousness. ⁷ He then said to him, “I am the LORD who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as a possession.” ⁸ “O Lord GOD,” he asked, “How am I to know that I shall possess it?” ⁹ He answered him, “Bring me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtle-dove, and a young pigeon.” ¹⁰ He brought him all these, split them in two, and placed each half opposite the other; but the birds he did not cut up. ¹¹ Birds of prey swooped down on the carcasses, but Abram stayed with them. ¹² As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him. ^{… 17} When the sun had set and it was dark, there appeared a smoking brazier and a flaming torch, which passed between those pieces. ¹⁸ It was on that occasion that the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying: “To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the Great River (the Euphrates).

Okay, so far we’ve seen Abram struggle to trust.  We’ve seen God give this pretty odd seeming response about cutting up animals and laying them out to form a path between them.  And we’ve seen Abram have do battle with the vultures over whether the recently deceased animals were going to be, in some weird and rather gruesome way, a place where God would show up or would they simply a next meal for scavengers.  We’ve seen that Abram “Stayed with them.”

At this point of the story we are supposed to see a turn around, some sign that Abram's faithful, "staying with it" is paying off, being rewarded. That's how it is in the movies, on T.V. After a heroic struggle the hero, bloody and scarred, attains the victory and basks in the glow of triumph - and walks away with the beautiful girl who fell in love with him while he was saving the world. But that isn't how it always goes in life. Sometimes it just piles on. Bad news after bad news, struggle upon struggle. And, when it seems you are completely exhausted and all the fight has gone out of you, it sometimes gets darker still. For Abram, a "deep and terrifying darkness enveloped him." At this point he had to have come close to breaking, giving it all up, admitting it was never real in the first place. "Maybe the 'voice' of God that I heard wasn't real, was just my imagination, was only my needs playing themselves out.  Or maybe I was just out in the sun way too long.  And all this ritual stuff, the animals cut in two, the path between them, the 'promise' of a covenant -- all that is just empty religion, worthless. Maybe it's time to grow up and just admit that I was wrong, God has NOT been leading me, has NOT been speaking, is NOT here now and is NOT about to show up. I'll get over it. It's sad and depressing, scary actually, but it's time to move on. "

            Talk about a "terrifying darkness!" Everything that seemed so sure and solid now seems slippery and ready to give way. We've all felt that, all had moments, days, months, years when the light of God's presence seems an illusion and the darkness of God's absence seems all too real.  But, finally, when the sun had set and the darkness was at it darkest, God actually shows up. Not in some blaze of glory, a blinding flash or a thunderclap. No, here God shows up in the form of a smoking oven and a torch (which sounds suspiciously like a barbecue and a flashlight -- I don't get it either). But somehow Abram knows that God is in the smoke of the oven and the fire of the torch, and God passes between the animal’s carcasses and makes a covenant with Abram, "You know, Abram old buddy, all those promises I made before -- I'll keep them.

            And, again, isn't this how it happens with us. We have fought and struggled to remain faithful, kept at it long after it seems pointless, were terrified in the darkness of those times and then God shows up; shows up not in some fantastic Hollywood special effects way, not in the spectacle or glory that we think we need to believe again. No, God shows in the kind word from a stranger, the listening ear of a friend, a Scripture passage that we've heard a million times suddenly taking on meaning. God shows up without all the fanfare, without the pomp and circumstance but in the little lovely ways that God seems to prefer -- a smile, a spark of hope in a fearful heart, a stable on a cold night in Bethlehem. And in those moments, if we had "stayed with them" and, truthfully, even if we haven't, God says to us, "You know all those promises? They're real!" And the darkness begins to lift, not in a sudden rush of blinding light but in a small little flame that helps us see just enough. The darkness that has weighed us down, bent us over as we tried to carry it, begins to lighten and we realize that finally, instead of staring down at defeat, we are looking up at the stars God laughed in place eons ago…and can believe again. 

When the Vultures Are Hungry

Abram (Abraham) Part Deux

Genesis 15: 1-12, 17-18 (Again)

¹ Some time after these events, this word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision: “Fear not, Abram! I am your shield; I will make your reward very great.” ² But Abram said, “O Lord GOD, what good will your gifts be, if I keep on being childless and have as my heir the steward of my house, Eliezer?” ³ Abram continued, “See, you have given me no offspring, and so one of my servants will be my heir.” ⁴ Then the word of the LORD came to him: “No, that one shall not be your heir; your own issue shall be your heir.” ⁵ He took him outside and said: “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so,” he added, “shall your descendants be.” ⁶ Abram put his faith in the LORD, who credited it to him as an act of righteousness. ⁷ He then said to him, “I am the LORD who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as a possession.” ⁸ “O Lord GOD,” he asked, “How am I to know that I shall possess it?” ⁹ He answered him, “Bring me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtle-dove, and a young pigeon.” ¹⁰ He brought him all these, split them in two, and placed each half opposite the other; but the birds he did not cut up. ¹¹ Birds of prey swooped down on the carcasses, but Abram stayed with them. ¹² As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him. ^{… 17} When the sun had set and it was dark, there appeared a smoking brazier and a flaming torch, which passed between those pieces. ¹⁸ It was on that occasion that the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying: “To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the Great River (the Euphrates).

So, in our last episode boys and girls we left poor Abram (he isn't called Abraham until later) wavering, not so sure he could trust the outlandish promises of this God he tried to believe in. This God was asking him to actually believe that he, Abram, old, old, childless Abram would be the father of descendants as numerous as the stars in the heavens AND that he, Abram, would get this land that belonged to lots of other people for he and all those descendants. Tough stuff to believe, don’t you think? And, reasonably enough, Abram wants some way to trust the promise. Just some sign, even just a little sign, that all these pretty crazy promises had some chance of being for real

God's response strikes me as a bit strange, even weird. Poor Abram just wants some reassurance and God tells him to get a bunch of animals, cut them in half, and lay them out so there is a path between them. Actually, all God said was to go get the animals; the rest was Abram's doing. You see, Abram understood what God's answer meant. In the custom of the times, when two parties wanted to make a solemn agreement, a covenant, they did it in a pretty graphic way. The agreement would be struck and they would go get some animals, cut them in two and lay them out. Then the two would walk between the carcasses. By this they were saying, "May what happened to these animals happen to me if I break the covenant." Obviously a covenant is way beyond a contract. A contract basically says, "If you do 'A' then I'll do 'B'. If you don't do 'A', then I don't have to do 'B'." No carcasses, no blood, no drama, no life on the line. A covenant is a bit, well, a lot more solemn, more is at stake, there's no wiggle room.

And then nothing happens. God doesn't do anything. The animals just lie there all through the day and nothing happens -- except things are starting to smell pretty ripe and the vultures see a whole lot of gourmet food and decide to indulge . But Abram fights them off. It says that Abram "stayed with them." That's pretty remarkable. Here God has told Abram to get ready for a covenant and then doesn't show up. Yet, Abram stayed with them, fought off the vultures and, I think, fought for his faith at the same time. Poor Abram. God builds up our hopes and then it seems like he decides to do the wash, change the oil in the car, mow the lawn and watch the NFC and AFC Championship games - all the while Abram is waiting, wondering, trying to trust.

What does Abram do? Well, he does what many of us, what I, fail to do when we are struggling to believe, to trust. He acts as if he did trust. He did the stuff he would do when faith was fun, exciting, and easy. He stayed with it. Why did he fight off the vultures? Because that's what he would have done if he had just come off a retreat and was filled with faith, filled with the Spirit. It’s what he would have done if he had just seen a prayer answered. He stayed with it, wouldn't let it go.

There's a lesson for us in this strange little passage, a question, and a challenge. What do we do when we don't feel it anymore? What do we do when God seems to be taking care of the lawn and not taking care of our lives? Well, too often we don't stay with it. We quit praying, quit worshiping, and quit trying. We give up. But Abram went about it differently and challenges us to "stay with it." When we are struggling, when we don't feel God anymore, when the vultures are circling, we need to fight them off. What things would we do when faith was easy? Then do those things when faith is hard. What would we do when it seems like God is constantly there, constantly working, constantly reassuring us? Then do those things when it seems God is constantly absent, constantly asleep, not there to reassure us.

It's called discipline. It's about character. It is trust.

Abram 1: Seriously?

Genesis 15: 1-12, 17-18

¹ Some time after these events, this word of the LORD came to Abram in a vision: “Fear not, Abram! I am your shield; I will make your reward very great.” ² But Abram said, “O Lord GOD, what good will your gifts be, if I keep on being childless and have as my heir the steward of my house, Eliezer?” ³ Abram continued, “See, you have given me no offspring, and so one of my servants will be my heir.” ⁴ Then the word of the LORD came to him: “No, that one shall not be your heir; your own issue shall be your heir.” ⁵ He took him outside and said: “Look up at the sky and count the stars, if you can. Just so,” he added, “shall your descendants be.” ⁶ Abram put his faith in the LORD, who credited it to him as an act of righteousness. ⁷ He then said to him, “I am the LORD who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as a possession.” ⁸ “O Lord GOD,” he asked, “How am I to know that I shall possess it?” ⁹ He answered him, “Bring me a three-year-old heifer, a three-year-old she-goat, a three-year-old ram, a turtle-dove, and a young pigeon.” ¹⁰ He brought him all these, split them in two, and placed each half opposite the other; but the birds he did not cut up. ¹¹ Birds of prey swooped down on the carcasses, but Abram stayed with them. ¹² As the sun was about to set, a trance fell upon Abram, and a deep, terrifying darkness enveloped him. ........ ¹⁷ When the sun had set and it was dark, there appeared a smoking brazier and a flaming torch, which passed between those pieces. ¹⁸ It was on that occasion that the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying: “To your descendants I give this land, from the Wadi of Egypt to the Great River (the Euphrates).

"Count the stars if you can." I hadn't been on a camping trip for a long time, and had never gone camping in the desert. In the middle of the night I, of course, needed to go to the bathroom. After fighting it off as long as I could it eventually became crucial to honor the need. So, with much grumbling I climbed out of the sleeping bag, slipped on the tennis shoes, left the laces untied, and headed off to everyone's favorite destination -- an overused, tightly sealed outhouse that had baked in the desert sun all day. Well, I made it, barely, and staggered back to my tent -- the one no one would share with me because of my certified, professional, industrial strength snoring. Just as I was about to crawl in the tent I happened to glance up and what I saw (I know this is a cliché) took my breath away. Really. It did. I had never seen the stars on a dark desert night. The sky seemed a solid mass of tiny points of light. There were so many stars visible that when I tried to identify constellations -- something I did easily in the city -- I could only find the Big Dipper. Barely. I was amazed and couldn't help praising and thanking God for the incredible beauty. Looking at those stars it was so easy to believe.

The next day was spent hiking. The trip leaders had gone on and on about the hike, how we would be amazed at the incredible views and the amazing rock formations. And for a while, when it was still cool, I did enjoy it and could feel the same awe as the night before. But, as the sun started doing what the sun does in the desert that "God you are awesome," began to turn into, "Awe come on, it's time for a break!" I wanted to quit. I don't like heat, rocks in the shoes hurt and after a while warm water just doesn’t cut it. “Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Whaaaa! Somebody call the Whaaambulance!”

Abraham was in the desert, too. He could look up at night and see that same solid mass of stars - stars that had to have been spewed forth by the big bang of God's laughter and delight. This is a God Abram can trust, one who can laugh in the face of deep darkness and light the night.

And God promises him that he will father a great nation. But Abram is old, real old; Sara is old, and they don't have an heir, no legacy to carry on the family stories, the family name. It can't happen. They are way past their prime, if you know what I mean.

But Abram has seen the stars, had his breath taken away by their beauty, been transfixed by the result of God's laughter. And maybe that’s why, for that moment, Abram can trust. If God can laugh the stars into the heavens, God can laugh my descendants onto the earth.

So Abram trusted. And “the LORD…credited it to him as an act of righteousness.”

But then God goes a bit too far. When you get right down to it, it was enough of a stretch for Abram to believe the descendants thing so He’d better not push his boy Abram too hard. But, right after Abram put his faith in the Lord, and God gave him a hearty, ‘Attaboy!’ God puts that final straw on the back of the camel that was Abram’s ability to trust. And we all know what that straw does. The straw is the promise that Abram will get the land to put all those descendants on.

Old Abram isn't quite so sure on this one. "O Lord God…how am I to know that I shall possess it?” [Translation (sort of) from the not-so-original Hebrew: “Look, God, it's hard enough to believe that promise of future descendants as numerous as the stars. But that star thing is just a metaphor. Right? You don’t mean you’ll REALLY give me all those descendants and all that land. Do you? Cuz if you did, God, you need to come down here and take a look. You know (of course you do, you’re God) the land here isn't so metaphorical. It's pretty solid and my feet are covered with its dust - not too mention a few other things it's not polite to talk about. What you are promising is too solid, too immediate, and too real -- and it will be too obvious if it doesn't happen.” End translation]

So Abram waivers. It's just too much, after all, and this nomad has learned in the desert of hard knocks that when things are too good to be true they are exactly that. There were a few other people who said that land was theirs and it wasn’t for this strange one and only God of Abram to give away. [Translation continues: ‘So, God, it would be good, wonderful in fact, if it was true, but I'm just not sure. Help me out here; give me a little sign that all this stuff’s really going to happen.’]

And isn't this exactly like our life with God. Sometimes we are filled with faith, overflowing with trust. We look out on the beauty of creation and are amazed, in awe. We see a baby, cooing and drooling and smiling and we see God (especially if those babies are my three grandkids). We even may reflect briefly on the absolute trust that baby has for her parents as a metaphor for how we are called to trust God. But then God starts getting a little too close to home, actually starts asking us to really trust, trust up close, not from a distance. Whoa! Actually trust my career to you? Trust that you will still "give me the land" if it turns out I hate the major I’ve chosen in college? Trust when my cherished one dies? Trust when the marriage fails? Trust when the one I love does not love me? Trust then? Aren't you asking a bit much, Lord? How about we go back to that metaphor of the distant descendants and distant land in the distant future? Let's keep things a bit vague, nebulous, no clear edges. How about we compromise; I'll "trust" and say "everything happens for a reason" and you keep talking about astronomy. Please don't ask me to trust too specifically, it's just too scary….But, apparently, God’s actually pretty serious about that kind of trust. Crazy.

Hand of doom and Whisper of death

John 8:2-11

² Early in the morning he arrived again in the temple area, and all the people started coming to him, and he sat down and taught them. ³ Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery and made her stand in the middle. ⁴ They said to him, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. ⁵ Now in the law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” ⁶ They said this to test him, so that they could have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger. ⁷ But when they continued asking him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” ⁸ Again he bent down and wrote on the ground. ⁹ And in response, they went away one by one, beginning with the elders. So he was left alone with the woman before him. ¹⁰ Then Jesus straightened up and said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” ¹¹ She replied, “No one, sir.” Then Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go, (and) from now on do not sin any more.”

We were terrified of old Fr. Widmer – especially the altar boys. If we messed up serving Mass we knew we would get “the look,” the narrowed eyes, the pursed lips. To us he seemed grumpy and unfriendly and we did all we could to avoid him – especially on the first Friday of every month. That was the day all the 5^th – 8^th graders at my Catholic elementary school went to Confession (it wasn’t called Reconciliation then). None of us, for sure, ever voluntarily went and stood in Fr. Widmer’s line because we were convinced that the experience would inevitably include a humiliating verbal thrashing. We were more than happy to let the few adults take our places.

However, one First Friday, the hand of doom touched my shoulder and the whisper of death sounded in my ear, “Go over to Fr. Widmer. There is no one in his line.” I wanted to run for my life, but sister’s grasp was too strong (besides, disobeying a nun - in church - about confession - can’t be a good thing). So, off I trudged, a condemned man of 12 years old who never even got that final meal that all condemned men are supposed to receive (that would be: roast beef, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the cob, vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup).

Yet, when I entered the confessional, I recognized the voice, but everything was strange. Instead of harshness and condemnation I experienced kindness and gentleness. Fr. Widmer engaged me in conversation, gently helping me look at what was behind my twelve-year-old sins (which have got to be pretty dull for the priest). For the first time in my brief life I experienced the incredible mercy and forgiveness of God. I left the confessional in shock - but every First Friday, from then on, I would go stand in Fr. Widmer’s line and look forward to experiencing love.

My experience with old Fr. Widmer was totally unexpected, unthinkable. In a small way (a VERY small way) it may have been similar to the experience of the woman in this passage from John. Here she is, face to face with a popular rabbi (not a good start) and hears the men quote the Law about the penalty for adultery – death by stoning. (The penalty, which was rarely, if ever applied, was the same for both parties. One wonders why only the woman was brought to Jesus). She hears them ask the rabbi to pronounce the sentence and she is terrified, panicked, hopeless. And then the rabbi bends down and begins writing in the dirt. Everyone knows what is happening. In the custom of the day, it signaled that the teacher was deeply pondering a student’s question.

It must have been a good sign for the accusers. “Ah, now we’ve got him. If he agrees with us then all his talk of God's mercy is just mumbo-jumbo and his credibility is as bad as a member of Congress. If he disagrees he is putting himself above the law – and his credibility is equally Congressional. We’ve got him either way - and we didn't even have to hack into his Twitter account!” (Okay, so maybe my historical timelines need a little work).

For the woman, the writing in the dirt must have seemed an agonizing eternity. But, out of the blue something new happens. An answer comes from the rabbi that could never have been imagined, “Let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her!”

The tables are turned, the completely unexpected has happened. Jesus bends down once again to write in the dirt and it’s easy to imagine the silence enveloping that scene. And can you imagine the shock of unexpected hope that must have shot through this woman. In an instant the focus has shifted. Eyes that barely a moment ago were staring at her in arrogant contempt are now looking around in confusion, carefully avoiding any eye contact. After a few moments the silence remains – but it has changed. The accusers have drifted away, one by one, and the contempt and condemnation are transformed by the mercy of the one who remained. “Has no one condemned you ... … …neither do I.”

What she must have felt! She had come, for the first time, face to face with the mercy of God and felt the transforming, healing, and freeing love of God. And I am convinced that what Jesus offered this woman in the face of her sin and humiliation us what He offers to us. “Neither do I condemn you.” Do we dare believe it? Do we dare live in God’s mercy? Do we dare?

Random Acts of Scripture

Back in the day there was a bumper sticker that said "Commit Random Acts of Kindness.” This brings up a couple of questions. What's wrong with planning to be kind, and, just how old does something have to be to be "back in the day?" In response to all the random acts of violence we hear about the bumper sticker asked us to counter that violence by randomly acting in kindness. Not a bad idea. But I think - and this is probably what the original author had in mind (is someone who comes up with a bumper sticker an "author") - that if we do random acts of kindness often enough we'll change. The violence (active or passive, overt or covert, in front of your back or behind it) each of us has within us will become transformed by our decision to do "random" kindness. Those kindnesses would cease to be "random" and simply be who we are and how we operate in this world.

And I this may seem rather....um....random, but it is how I experience of the Bible. I have found lo these many years that as I keep immersing myself in the Scriptures they keep doing random acts of......something. Just what is hard to say except that somehow I am changed by that book. There seems to be no rhyme or reason for when or why a certain Scripture passage starts to act on me. It's just totally, well, random. I can be reading a certain book of the Bible and a completely different passage pops into my head; or someone - wife, daughter, friend, student, check-out clerk, whoever - says or does something that reminds me of a long forgotten passage. It can even happen when I am working to stimulate my intellectual and philosophical development through the ministrations of Reality TV. Okay, so I really like Dancing with the Stars; get over it; you have dirty little secrets, too.

Now, I like to think that maybe this Scriptural randomness is God's doing but I suppose it could just as easily be my short attention span. Or that I am closing in on 60 years old. Or that I was raised with five older sisters (believe me, that messes with your mind). Who knows (but guess which one I pick)? Anyway, it happens a lot, this randomness, and I am beginning to suspect that somehow this is the way God operates; God’s got a planned randomness. Or maybe God randomly plans. I don't know. All I know is that that book keeps surprising me, acting on me, making me think, making me change. Pisses me off sometimes.