Monday, March 24, 2014

in which I want to talk about the lambs

I want to talk about the children. I want to talk about the little ones, the least of these, the ones with single-digit years on this earth who have already lost more than any adult should endure. let alone them.

I want to talk about hills to die on and covering Blood and swords and flailing arms. I want to talk about planted flags and crossed arms. I want to talk about little ones caught in the crossfires.

I want to talk about politics and the Church, how somewhere in the middle they merged into a hydra with foaming mouths and breathing fire. I don't know where the Bride went, and I think her Groom is grieving.

I want to talk about eyes. I want to talk about the way the world is watching our every move. I want to talk about how a leader who identifies with Jesus Christ and also with the ugliest of hate died this past week, and how the world rejoiced and danced in the streets. because they hate us, and we wonder why. they taste the word "Christian" on their tongue and spit it out. His name makes up the first part, and they're spitting Him out because of us.

it's rending me.

{photo via pinterest}
I want to talk about how this day left me short on words. I want to talk about the grooves that heels are grinding in the dirt with the kicking and the screaming while He is writing in the dirt right beside us, phrases familiar and convicting.

He says, let the little children come, and do not forbid them. we say, but Jesus, we're doing this for You. 

a friend of mine called it "holding the least of these as hostages in [a] culture war," and he's right. because where you stand on the issue isn't the point. it's really not. the point is that we are commissioned. to set the captives free, to tend to the widows and the orphans, to give a cup of cold water to these little ones.

did we forget? did somewhere, somehow, the footprints on the beach and the trace reminders of the Son of Man serving breakfast on the beach disappear? because I can't stop picturing His face, the gentle lift of His head, His meeting Peter's eyes and softly speaking, "oh Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me? feed my lambs."

we've missed something big, something intrinsic to who He is, this Son of Man, this Prince of Peace. today made it clear.

I can't stop hearing His voice.

do you love Me?
feed my lambs.

13 comments:

  1. I want to talk about all these things too, Rachel. I also want to just go around the whole thing, like going around a hill that isn't a real hill, but it is a construction of our own. I was and am heartbroken, but also this is just a camera flash, an opportunity to witness and address the state of the world, and the vast inequalities that create "the least of these." May we all see around the hill to this "big thing" we have missed.

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    1. I love that analogy of the hill, Esther. and you're right, this is just a flash in the grand scheme of things. I want to see the big thing, too, love.

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  2. What beautiful words! Thank you for this.

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    1. thank you for your witness, Karissa.

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  3. Hi Rachel,

    I love how you picture Jesus on the beach... and his love for children! I, too, have been hearing the echoes of his voice, to feed his sheep. There's definitely so much we're missing by not putting children forward. I believe children are also elders in our world, in some cases... they have wisdom and God uses them just as he does adults! Thanks for being a voice and sharing with us :)

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    1. children are also elders in our world. what a profound thought, Susan.

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  4. Rachel, you put all of the things I was feeling about everything going on this week into words. Thank you for this.

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    1. oh Emily, your witness blesses me.

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  5. Rachel,
    I have tried to write a thought, but it always comes out wrong. I have started over at least 4 times. War is always wrong; I believe this. Those who try to justify war by citing religion do so because they know that God is the ultimate good. I want to say that there is some affirmation about God in the fact that God and the church are always dragged into war, but that still sounds wrong. It takes more than wondering how it happened - of course it happened - people will always try to justify their actions. It is going to take active resistance and opposition. We have to take back the church from the banner of patriotism. That still sounds wrong. Thank you for wanting to talk about it. It is hard. I don't know how, obviously. But we should talk about it.

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    1. Newell, I understand this so well. "we have to take back the church." << that right there is a powerful phrase. thank you so much for entering in, reading these words, and seeing the hardness here.

      and yes. we should talk about it. voices create Light, and Light dissipates darkness.

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  6. I feel like I was kicked in the gut and I'm still gasping for air, at a loss for words. I get this so much.

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    1. oh dear one. oh how I understand this. at a loss. yes, completely, without any way to figure this out.

      we are all recovering together. little breaths.

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  7. so so difficult. so so wrong. and yet that seems to be so easily forgotten. Keep saying this.

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I look at you and see all the ways a soul can bruise, and I wish I could sink my hands into your flesh and light lanterns along your spine so you know there's nothing but light when I see you. :: Shinji Moon