Last Christmas week was marked by faded skies and torrential
rains, all culminating in a good amount of flooding throughout the state. Our
farm’s fishing hole has swelled well beyond its banks to birth an endless river racing
across the asphalt where a parish road should otherwise be.
As you might imagine, it wasn’t long before that young stream began to carry away the
blanket of autumn that had covered our lawn and the edges of our hay fields for the past few months. Fossilized leaves, small branches, and even
plastic toys moved in unison towards the lowest point. No matter that they would eventually bottom
out in an enormous pile elsewhere, the current was too strong to remain still.
As 2014 ends, I can’t help but think of how short the year
has seemed, how carried away I have been through the days and months on the
calendar.
We would all do well to realize this life is about being
carried away. If we are not carried away
by one thing, we will be carried away
by another.
The prophet Isaiah gives opposing images of being taken away
by one of two things.
To begin with, he describes the person who is carried away
by sin, saying:
“For all of us have
become like one who is unclean, And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy
garment; And all of us wither like a leaf, And our iniquities, like the wind,
take us away. There is no one who calls
on Your name, Who arouses himself to take hold of You; For You have hidden Your
face from us And have delivered us into the power of our iniquities” (Is.
64: 6-7).
Our sins “take us away” like the leaf in the wind, our divinely-granted
“free will” actually leaving us at the mercy of our sinful act in that freedom. With each sin, we become imprisoned to the
path our lives take, no matter what we would have otherwise chosen for
ourselves.
That’s the thing about sin—we attempt to categorize them, to
rationalize them, to minimize them when justifying our choices. But no sin is pure. No sin will leave us firmly planted where we
want to be. Instead, before we even
realize it, that sin will wither our tender hearts until we are but a husk of
one who was once sensitive to the voice of God and farther downstream than we
ever thought possible.
There is another
choice, though.
Isaiah speaks of one who, instead, chooses to love obedience
to the Lord, who chooses to love the people of Israel
and her God, Yahweh:
“Be joyful with
Jerusalem and rejoice for her, all you
who love her; Be exceedingly glad with her, all you who mourn over her, That
you may nurse and be satisfied with her comforting breasts, That you may such
and be delighted with her bountiful bosom.’ For thus says the Lord, ‘Behold, I
extend peace to her like a river, And the glory of the nations like an
overflowing stream’” (Is. 66:10-12).
Just as surely as our sin will carry us away, so, too, will
our obedience to the Lord, only this time, the result is positive, although
just as equally out of our control.
When we choose obedience to the Word of God over sin, we are
taken away by the Lord’s peace. We don’t wake up and choose a path of
peace. It chooses us when we choose to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, and
mind.
In this life, we will
be carried away by something. Free will
is not free. And what happens next is beyond our control but is also dependent upon what we do now.
I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be the withered
leaf of Isaiah 64. I want to be the
well-nursed child of Isaiah 66. What I
become, though, depends of what I allow myself to be carried away by—my sin…or
my love and obedience of the Lord.
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