Down and Dirty
One of my favorite scriptures is this gem from the One Hundred-and-Third Psalm:
13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him;
14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.
I can’t help but ponder that maybe that awareness and perception was honed a bit by Jesus’ thirty-three years of sharing this form of existence. As he walked the stony paths and dusty streets, did the dirt of the earth settle even more deeply into his consciousness? As he witnessed the walk of mortals in mortal form, did he sense even more strongly the deep longings and fatal flaws of the created beings? As he washed his own feet, did he think more deeply about how deeply the nature of this world is held within us?
Probably not. He’d been observing his children for several millennia and I’m pretty sure he was quite aware of every quirk, lack, mischief, and mistake. He had long witnessed our bent toward evil and our incalculably cruel capabilities. And yet… he remembered that we are dust. Fashioned from this earth and deeply drawn to its most basic substance. Goes with the territory, so to speak.
And so, in that deep perception of our fashioned nature, as the Christ walked upon the earth, he embraced sinners. He forgave them and healed them. He touched the untouchable, loved the unlovable. He sat at their tables, ate and drank with them. And, he confronted their sin and told them to “Go and sin no more.”
Understanding has never been an excuse for sin, but rather a means of moderating judgment and empowering mercy toward the sinner. Mercy greater than all our sin, judgment substituting his righteousness for our guilt. And calling us to a life of holiness… but not holier than thou-ness.
Attending to the creosoted post jutting out from our own orbital socket, we do not attempt to extract the fleck of dust from our neighbor’s eye. We refuse to call evil “good” but speak truth in humble and sincere love. Keenly aware of our own sins, flaws, and failures, we do not treat others harshly but rather close the door of our own closet, fall to the floor, and plead, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.”