Primitive religion is not believed, it is danced!

Arthur Darby Nock

Earth's crammed with heaven,
And every common bush afire with God;
And only he who sees takes off his shoes;
The rest sit round it and pluck blackberries.

Elizabeth Browning

Sunday, March 4, 2018

a crowd of faults

“Lord, please restore to us the comfort of merit and demerit. Show us that there is at least something we can do. Tell us that at the end of the day there will at least be one redeeming card of our very own. Lord, if it is not too much to ask, send us to bed with a few shreds of self-respect upon which we can congratulate ourselves. But whatever you do, do not preach grace. Give us something to do, anything; but spare us the indignity of this indiscriminate acceptance.”
                             Robert Farrar Capon, Between Noon & Three: Romance, Law & the Outrage of Grace

We are a crowd of faults. But know this… There is always a road back. If we have the courage to look for it and to take it. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I don't know. I need help. These are the signposts. The cardinal directions.
                             Louise Penny, A Great Reckoning

We hate being needy
We hate being (as we see it) weak

We are supposed to be strong
In control
Powerful (even)

Able to leap tall buildings…
Well, maybe not

But certainly able to deal with life
And the problems that come our way

But we aren’t
The true fact is
We need others
And we need the Sacred

We need help
We need forgiveness
We need grace

This is why it is so difficult to really follow Jesus
He knows us too well
This is why we hesitate to be real
Others might know us too well

So we wear masks
And say we are FINE
When we really are “fucked up, insecure, needy and emotional”

We hide behind a false veneer of righteousness
While at the same time judging and minimizing others

We lie
And horde
And hurt

We are a crowd of faults

There is a way out
But the path is marked by
Our radical need, and God’s radical acceptance
And we are left muttering, under our breath
Embarrassed, almost without a shred of self respect,
Muttering, to anyone who will listen,
“I'm sorry. I was wrong. I don't know. I need help”

God listens
And often friend do too,

And gifted by indiscriminate, foolish, scandalous acceptance
Call it grace

We find our way

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