Unlocking God's Word
and week 23 readings.
My first experiences with the Word of God were in my encounters with creation. Observing plant & animal life, landscapes, skyscapes and seascapes - and being captivated by the awesomeness of God’s creation.
Going to schools that had Christian influences (as a child and teenager) allowed me to experience the Word of God through the Bible, but I do remember those early experiences feeling like encounters with locked doors. Reports of God’s Word, carefully gatekept by those with the authority and scholarship to translate and make meaning, often from a pulpit or at a chalkboard.
That authority and scholarship sometimes made the precious Word, held behind those solid doors and locks feel more threatening or scary than anything resembling Good News. The words “hellfire” and “brimstone” come to mind. And the hellfire and brimstone gatekeepers of the Gospel made it conditional: there were hoops to be jumped through, steps to be taken before I could be personally entrusted with this Word.
Keys to unlock the doors would not just be given away, willy nilly, to the curious at heart.
But, if you know me, you might find me persistent at times. I kept knocking. I believed something behind those locked doors would be medicine, food, nourishment for me. and I kept knocking.
“‘So I say to you, ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you.” (Luke 11:9, NRSVA).
Sometimes, while knocking, I walked alongside the fenced in world of church, the place which often claimed to be “home” of the Gospel. Beautiful things poked through the fences, poured over or crept under the confines. Those beautiful things which drew me were often the witness of friends who were followers of Jesus, whose peace in Christ, that peace that surpasses all understanding, was like the fragrance of flowers uncontainable by fences. I sniffed deep lungfuls of this witness, at times increasing the urgency of my knocking.
I am thankful for those witnesses, for those who withstood and even encouraged my questioning. That encouragement drew me to keep on standing on very tip toes of my souls yearning, to sniff the fragrance of the Gospel. I still couldn’t quite get in. But I knew something good was there.
At various Bible studies before my “revelation” experience, people tried to unlock the Word of God for me, to help me to make sense of it without the gift that is that tumbler of faith having clicked into place …. they meant well … but perhaps just as human machinations couldn’t completely lock it away, human machinations alone could not completely unlock or reveal the Word. Spirit had to participate, equip and eventually throw the doors open - so the light on the other side could summon me forward.
Now, my experience with the Word, and especially as I read through the Bible this year is an entirely different kind of experience. I am struggling with being in the places of gatekeepers but not of the gatekeepers. I am struggling to find where taking only one pair of sandals and no purse equates to the caretaking of buildings over souls and communities, the minding of rules over the minding of the medicine.
In my encounter with finitude, and as I get older I want the soul-work, the community work, the medicine-work more than the duties of gatekeeping. I want to knock the doors, the locks, the fences even the hedges down - lay bare the pathways in all directions that give access to this Good News that is the love of God in Jesus.
In God is the mother, the father, the brother, the one who intercedes with sighs too deep for words. Mother bends down, kneeling at child level, with the flower to hand it to the child. She places no barriers between herself, the child she loves and the gifts she gives - she doesn’t wait for the grown up to stretch and get a calf cramp on tip toe, to sniff something that is still out of reach, that remains behind fences and gates that are locked.
In that exchange between parent kneeling to child, the world falls away for a bit - and there is pure sacred contact. Unsullied by gatekeepers whose perspectives invariably colour the lenses through which they see, invariably colouring the visions and interpretations they share. (We all have lenses, visions, interpretations - should mine be subjugated to someone else’s? If yes, why?)
Brother appears through locked doors, walking on water to get to me - offering his hand when in my over enthusiasm I begin to drown.
Spirit whispers her reassurances: we are bigger than human failures, bigger than editorial liberties taken by men with their own agendas in ordering the world.
I am still struggling with many of the Old Testament texts, searching for the imprints of the God I know is love amidst the violences against nations and the subjugation of women. The struggle, invariably, yields at least one of those moments of pure sacred contact where a word, a visual, a description tells of grace and the intention for good below the handwriting of men.
So today I offer (two days late), the readings for Week 23 and a prayer. Thank you readers for offering me the grace of “I’ll just keep reading until you post” :) You know who you are!
Week 23 Readings:
Thursday June 4th : 2 Samuel 22:1 to 2 Samuel 23:23, Acts 2:1-47, Psalm 122:1-9 and Proverbs 16:19-20
Friday June 5th: 2 Samuel 23:24 to 2 Samuel 24:25, Acts 3:1-26, Psalm 123:1-4 and Proverbs 16:21-23
Saturday June 6th (we begin 1 Kings): 1 Kings 1:1-53, Acts 4:1-37, Psalm 124:1-8 and Proverbs 16:24
Sunday June 7th: 1 Kings 2:1-46, Acts 5:1-42, Psalm 125:1-5 and Proverbs 16:25
Monday June 8th: 1 Kings 3:1 to 1 Kings 4:34, Acts 6:1-15, Psalm 126:1-6 and Proverbs 16:26-27
Tuesday June 9th: 1 Kings 5:1 to 1 Kings 6:38, Acts 7:1-29, Psalm 127:1-5 and Proverbs 16:28-30
Wednesday June 10th: 1 Kings 7:1-51, Acts 7:30-50, Psalm 128:1-6 and Proverbs 16:31-33
A Prayer of Thanksgiving to the Un-gatekeep-able God:
Unrestrained God of abundant presence and love, you summon us through doors thrown open, you come in search of us rather than leave us on the outskirts of your love, protection and grace. You kneel to meet us at eye-level in Jesus, our brother, who encamps, enfleshed alongside our human experience. You gather us under your wing as a mother hen draws her chicks in, for protection and comfort and warmth in a sometimes cold and harsh world. You intercede with sighs too deep for words, conveying us in relationship with you even when we do not know where or how to begin: you are our beginning and our end. We thank you God for your everlasting search and rescue operation on our behalf. Amen.
locked red door Photo by Anastasiia Shyrokykh on Unsplash
man sniffing flowers over a fence Photo by Andrew Lvov on Unsplash
open door with light pouring in Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash
mother giving flower to child Photo by Bill Weng on Unsplash
I love the everlasting search-and-rescue mission!