Verses

• Psalm 119:145-172
• Exodus 7:8-24
• 2 Cor 2:14-3:6
• Mark 10:1-16

God, so painfully bright and achingly pure. We bask for a split second then must mix in something else to dial down the sheer terror, or we must surely be undone. To convince ourselves that we are not so bankrupt, so small.

We add Guns. ‘Merica. Money. Tradition. Theology.

We re-create God in our image. We imagine that we deserve. That we can — and must — condemn. We find fulfillment in other things and people. A god that is not so Other.

But deep in our spirit, we wish to be laid bare again, to know we are nothing, yet of infinite value and worth because of that Great Someone.

Perhaps — just perhaps — there is no greater gift than to be undone. To be given the eyes of a child, able to see unclouded past the shadowing drapes of ourselves. To enter the furnace, knowing it means the end, yet to Be. The flame is in us, and we are in the flame. We are alight, and yet not consumed.

And after passing through the fire, let us live more lightly, more compassionately, more aware, more wise. And less for those things that obscure the light within us.