In Exodus, blood was shed and applied to various things so that judgement might passover. This results in escape and a mysterious kind of deliverance. 7 weeks (49 days + 1 day leaving = 50) later God reveals himself in a kind of outpouring that culminates in the giving of the Law (An event later memorialized in Shavuot, something celebrated on May 15). Immediately after (this giving of the Law), Moses finds Israel steeped in sexual immorality. Then he and the Levites execute 3000 of Israel.
In Acts 2, a narrative ensues following important happenings. Remember, after Jesus died to save a people from their sins, rose to conquer death, a duration of time passes and culminates in an event called Pentecost... from 50. No doubt connected to the intermediate time between Pesach or Passover and Shavuot. Again, Pentecost remembers the outpouring of the Spirit, after which 3000 are saved or converted. So the sequence looks a bit like this: blood - passover - 50 days - revelation from God - 3000 affected in both situations. It seems obvious enough that this link between Law and Spirit are contrasted by one thing - the juxtaposition of life and death. In all, the literary connections emphasize God's gifts affect change.
This months happenings include thinking through these kinds of things. However before, Shevuot and Pentecost, the JUC long-term students left for their respective homes. Goodbyes are, in short, another group of friends gone. Naturally, these goodbyes engender reflection and affection - hugs and affirming toasts. The investment in people pulls on internal strings and the sadness tastes bigger the better the friend. Saying goodbye has two faces - the leave-er and the left - and in the end I will wear them both. My own time here is rapidly coming to a close and, in the confluence of my own drama and the desire to say goodbye well, I feel added pressure weighing heavier and heavier as my last day approaches.
I have been thinking a lot about this lately. The last day... or chapter endings before the next picks-up. What does my next chapter look like? Reflection draws together what is a conglomeration of influences mixed-up in different experiences related in tenuous and inexplicable extensions. It's like this: memories of random radio broadcasts, unexpectant inconviences, and dinner conversations joined together in a present momentary reflection. Inevitably, we make decisions informed by a line of strange experiences, memories, and examples like these. The decisions are weighty and lead us, "onward and upward", I'd like to think. This is why it's important to think holistically about our past even as we engage present opportunities.
Our past shapes our present. Ol' baggage sticks to our bodies like barnacles building an interlocking scenery of past images and memories. Set it in juxtaposition to present goals and future hopes and the mix-up carries a consciousness. The point is that we are constantly becoming, ever affected and affecting. Arriving, as we are, in whatever place we are, we are here different than we were a moment before. This is the affect of aging, forgetfulness, new books, old stories - there is no way to stay the same. No way back to innocence; no way back to childhood.
For what its worth, I have found Mirsolav Volf helpful in this case:
We must name the troubling past truthfully - we must come to clarity about what happened, how we reacted, and how we are reacting to it now- to be freed from its destructive hold on our lives. Granted, truthful naming will not by itself heal memories or wrongs suffered; but without truthful naming, all measures we might undertake to heal such memories will remain incomplete.
The past has a bearing on history, doesn't it? Isn't this how we avoid spectacular errors, by observing how things ought not to have been done, accessing the consequences of bad decisions and rethinking a better course? While we wrestle with the slew of residual drama that is a part of each of our narratives, there are ways of getting up, shaking off the dust, as it were, and moving on, no matter how spectacular the error.
This, for me, is the mystery of mercy. Where confession and mercy kiss. This exercise in "naming" connects us to past offense and offenses... or recalls, "Confess your sins and He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). However hard it gets, the cycle subtly undermines power-plays and pretense. The more attuned I am to my past problems and present frequent failures, the more thankful I am for Jesus. It induces authenticity, humility and fidelity. This narritive from Passion to Pentecost changes us and bids us to live earnestly and free.
