Sunday, April 2, 2017

Unruly wills

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 Unruly ears 

 Collect of the Day
O ALMIGHTY GOD, who alone canst order the unruly wills and affections of sinful men: Grant unto thy people that they may love the thing which thou commandest, and desire that which thou dost promise; that so, among the sundry and manifold changes of the world, our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found.


The first strictly theological term I learned, I think, was Docetism, which has to do with a failure to believe that Jesus was a man, human, as human as we are – or with a need to believe that he wasn’t: he must be different from us – for example, not subject to unruly will or affection. (Unruly is an interesting word, isn’t it? – “not disposed to keeping the rules,” meaning, in the prayer of the day, the ones God commands, not wanting to do what God desires.)
     Consider today’s story from John 11, the raising of Lazarus and all that goes before it.

So, Lazarus, this friend of Jesus, is ill; he’s dying; but when Jesus hears about it, he doesn’t set off immediately to visit, to see his friend before he . . . well, croaks. He waits around for two days. Then, he says to his disciples, “We should go.” And they say, “Why? They were getting ready to stone you there, you remember. Why?” And Jesus thinks, “You don’t think I don’t know that. You don’t think that’s all that’s been on my mind for the last two days. Let’s hope it’s not too late.” In fact he says as much, if in code. “There is daylight, and there is dark. We can start off in the light and hope we get there before dark.”
     At least, that’s what I heard.

I also heard Thomas say, “Yes, let’s go now. To hell with danger.” (Jesus is then wishing he were so unthinkingly, unaffectedly brave.)
     I remembered how much I dislike Mary, because she’s always passive aggressive toward her sister. She’s the one, when Martha goes out to meet Jesus – she’s the one that says, “I’m coming”; only she’s not.
     And I remembered how the Orthodox Church has regarded the raising of Lazarus as two miracles. The first “explains” how he manages to come out of the tomb though his hands and feet are tied.
     “Let him loose,” Jesus says. He’s thinking: “And me. Let me loose, too, you damn Docetists.”

I know. I’m dead wrong. (Get the pun?)
    (I do, you damn Ebionite.)

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