"Literature adds to reality, it does not simply describe it. It enriches the necessary competencies that daily life requires and provides;
and in this respect, it irrigates the deserts that our lives have already become." C.S. Lewis

Sunday, July 3, 2016

In Context

In my early married days I tried to be a model church newlywed by volunteering with the monthly girls club. Some women led badges in physical fitness, campcraft, or nutrition.  I caught linoleum on fire with a sewing machine, veered the Christmas cookie offering into a realm dubbed "chocolate poops", and gained a certain measure of fame for my habit of stomping, clapping and singing whenever I had to venture into the pantry.  The last was adopted after I confronted a rodent, at eyelevel, during my brief period of blissful ignorance.  I think leaders and members alike preferred the barely suppressed hysteria evinced by my flappy/clappy hands to the uncontrolled shrieking of that face-to-face encounter.

As with all responsible outreach endeavors, there was a theme verse to begin every meeting.  It had even been thoughtfully wrought into song version for those not apt at memorization.
"Girls, what does the Lord require of you?"
"To do justice.  To love mercy.  And to walk humbly with our God."
And then, with less confidence and fewer voices,
"Micah 6:8."

This is an excellent paradigm for how to live.  It is succinct, yet all-encompassing.  It is simple, yet rife with implication.  One of my offspring has it tattooed on the soft inside of an upper arm.  I feel good about that as a life motto (even if I still don't know what I think about the means of adornment).

Today I heard the context for the first time.

With what shall I come before the Lord,
and bow myself before God on high?
Shall I come before him with burnt offerings,
with calves a year old?
Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams,
with ten thousands of rivers of oil?
Shall I give my firstborn for my transgression,
the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

Those preceding verses are packed with the weight of guilt of sin -- not a casual acknowledgement that someone slipped up.  Thousands of rams.  Ten thousands of rivers of oil. 
The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul. 
I have fallen short of a standard that is unreachable to me.  I am indebted beyond my ability to ever pay. 

That nifty three-point life motto is actually the overflowing, grace pouring, running over answer to the question -- with what shall I come before the Lord? 

He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God.


It's not a checklist of moral living to be misappropriated by my pharisaical heart, but a joyful  THANK YOU!   The staggering, crippling, immobilizing debt has been paid in full.
Live justly, love mercy, walk humbly.
Only that.

I hope the little girls were more astute than I.



2 comments:

  1. Elisabeth Elliot sums up the law of love as "my life for yours," a way to approach my neighbor that echoes the way that I have been loved. it helps me link gratitude and service, and recognize that whatever act of love I manage to perform, it is insignificant in comparison to His, but, however feeble, it is the offering I must make. It is what life is for.

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