Introducing some "Hopefully Devoted" writers

 

The ACW affiliated group, “Hopefully Devoted” is a great blessing to me. We have now been going for over a year and the sparkle hasn’t worn off. Following Jane Walters’ lead, I offered to put some of the group member’s blogging on my slot so they could get the feel of it. For some the responsibility of doing a blog spot every month can be intimidating, so this is a good way to be introduced to morethanwriters. The challenge for October was to write on the theme “Writing and God”. Here was the contribution from Martin Leckebusch. Acknowledgement of the photo to Robin Martin, https://www.publicdomainpictures.net/index.php.


Permanent Markers?

Has something you wrote been consigned to oblivion? It might be a book going out of print, or an article supplanted when a different topic suddenly hit the headlines. I have on my shelves a rare copy of a hymnal which contained more of my own texts than any other hymn book – but which was unexpectedly withdrawn by the publisher; I never uncovered the reason for that.

Things like this hurt; our efforts have been devalued. Perhaps part of the pain is a feeling that our words, artfully crafted and carefully edited, are worthwhile; we imagine they merit a kind of permanence. They were not inscribed in stone, but nonetheless, in our culture the written word does seem to carry more validity than the spoken word: if it’s in print, it’s harder to deny that it was produced. We may want to cry, with Job:

“O that my words were written down!

O that they were inscribed in a book!

O that with an iron pen and with lead

they were engraved on a rock forever![1]

 

The ultimate standard is God’s words. “Heaven and earth will pass away,” said Jesus, “But my words will not pass away.”[2]

Yet there’s another angle. One morning in the temple in Jerusalem, a woman was unceremoniously jostled to where Jesus sat teaching, and made to stand before him. Her accusers said she’d been caught in adultery, and asked Jesus: should she be executed by stoning, as the Law of Moses said? It was, of course, a trick question. They had no care for the woman, nor for justice, merely a determination to trap this unconventional rabbi.

He wrote in the dirt. What did he write? It could have been her pardon. It could have been a question for those attacking him: “Where’s the man?” (Moses’ Law decreed stoning for both adulterous parties; yet the man had not been detained.) Or it could have been a plea for wisdom from his Father. We simply don’t know what Jesus wrote.

Why did he write in the dirt? We aren’t told that, either. Yet by stooping to write in the dirt, Jesus did not stoop to the levels of proud gloating and vulgar gawping of some men in that courtyard. By writing in the dirt, Jesus allowed the woman some dignity as she struggled with her shame and terror. Then he spoke, enabling her release; ironically, his written words are lost but his spoken ones preserved as a permanent marker of grace.

And when our words are lost in the dirt? Those cancelled articles, those abandoned drafts? Jesus knows what they said, and why we wrote them, and what their value was. If we wrote them for him, does it matter quite so much that they are gone?

© Martin Leckebusch

 

[1] Job 19:23-24 (NRSV)

[1] Matthew 24:35 (NRSV



 I trust you enjoy this by Martin as much as I did. Meanwhile I'm away in Ireland, just for the week!

 


 


Comments

  1. What a beautiful piece and a timely reminder. Thank you Rosie, and Martin.

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  2. Lovely post, Rosalie. Thank you for the beautiful encouragement you gave by using the symbolic action of the Lord writing in the dirt. Blessings.

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