Last night as I'm reading through Matthew 26, I was thinking how often I'm like Judas. I get filled with righteous indignation about what isn't working out according to my own sense of justice. ...and for the first time I pitied him. I've always had a hard time imagining that God would call someone to follow Him and minister in His name if he was so evil.
This morning I woke up early, excited (and maybe a little nervous to see what I would learn about Judas and the beautiful woman who anointed Jesus so lovingly. There was no way I could be late. I had plenty of time to shower, eat breakfast, play guitar, crochet, walk and play with the dog ....and apparently misjudge how long it takes to get to hickory from the other end of Startown Road.
I sulked into church late (again), filled with shame, and listening to my own critical self contempt filled voice "Being late is a sign of arrogance. You don't value God enough to be on time to church. How can you trust your Yahweh when you won't risk encountering His people on Sunday morning?"
I was grateful the message started, if only to drown out the ugly inner voice I was giving audience to. Thankfully the voice of Love, reason, and teaching took main stage while the other yucky mean voice waited quietly on the sideline.
During Pastor Paul's teaching, I began to realize that Martha, with her busy formal food prep, and Judas, with his legalistic prudence, were falling back on what they knew to do before meeting Jesus: hard work and the sacrifice of denial. Their own power was used instead of choosing to rest, wonder, and and wait in the midst of the Mystery. I'm a lot like them both. Someone wrongs me and I start screaming inside "Injustice!! Injustice!! Burn her at the steak!" (Or the more biblical "Lord, smite my enemy!")
The Mystery is such a wonderful place to discover- a place filled with perfect love, gentle and humble justice, it's as fluid as the Spirit and yet deeply rooted and unshakable. The mystery is an oxymoron and yet homogenous at the same time.
I don't have the strength to do works that look good or that keep the ugly voice of self contempt silent. I don't have it in me to easily choose relationship with my redeemer over my opinion of justice.
I don't have the strength to do works that look good or that keep the ugly voice of self contempt silent. I don't have it in me to easily choose relationship with my redeemer over my opinion of justice.
The band returns, and we start singing:
By grace alone somehow I stand
Where even angels fear to tread
Invited by redeeming love
Before the throne of God above
He pulls me close with nail scarred hands into his everlasting arms!
When condemnation grips my heart and Satan tempts me to despair,
I hear the voice that scatters fear; the Great I Am, The Lord is here.
O Praise the One who fights for me, and shields my soul eternally!
I hear a new voice saying "Cease striving. I love you. You are SO precious to Me I died for you."
Suddenly the self critical voice from before FLEES! My Kinsman Redeemer paid the price for my sins long ago. How quickly I forget.
Boldly I approach the throne, Grateful now I'm running home
By your blood I come welcomed as your own into the arms of majesty!
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