Down and Dirty . . . and Only Human

One of the great things about a Good Story is the way the writer brings in the details, letting us paint a mental picture. Gatsby looks across the water at the green light on Daisy’s house, for example. F. Scott Fitzgerald may have placed some significance on the fact that the light was green, but that detail, that color, helps us make the scene real in our minds, doesn’t it?  Or there is William Carlos Williams’s poem, elegant example of how poetry's power is its coming alive in us.  Can't you see it as you read?

The Red Wheelbarrow
so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens.

In our Good Story this week (Click for a link) the main character “bent down and began to write on the ground with his finger.” and a few lines later “Again he bent down and wrote on the ground.” Along with the Examen, Entering the Story is an important technique on our journey, a way of making the story our reality. Entering the Story lets us open our eyes, ears, senses to receive more of what we’re given each moment by this God who longs for us, who stands at the top of the hill straining to see the first glimpse of us. But when we sense something, we process it too, with our logic.  And so when I sat with this story, quieted myself and climbed into it while I was doing my stretching this morning, while the teapot heated up (see, busy people can weave this Entering into occupied lives!) it was that dusty finger of Jesus that made the story real to me. Like Daisy’s green light and Williams’ red wheelbarrow, I saw the flat gray/ochre of the temple area dust on the matte glossy tan finger of Jesus hand.
Humus . . . Human. We began Lent with the image of ashes on the forehead, thumbed on with the words “remember that you came from dust and to dust you will return.” So now we have Jesus faced with the “earthy” behavior of this woman, brought before him having committed a “sin of the flesh.” The Scribes and Pharisees, his antagonists all through the story, are standing upright, with clean hands itching to pick up stones, to use the stones to kill the flesh of the woman. For them, flesh and dirt are to be kept separate.
The really wild idea of this Jesus being God-in-the-flesh flashes out to us like that green light, or that red wheelbarrow. God’s in the dirt with us. God’s dirty too.  For me this morning, my mind races and I see Jesus looking at me, his dirty finger stalled in that dust. And I am the woman, seeing God saying to me, “Sometimes it really stinks to be physical, doesn’t it?” And the antagonists who brought me here heckle him again, and he smells the perfume on their hands and speaks words that lead them to unconsciously wring them...as if washing.

We’re only human. Do we forgive ourselves? Do we accept our humanity? Are we willing to accept forgiveness, to get up and try (yet again) to be better?  I am the woman, rising from the dust in the temple area, walking away, wondering how I will face my life.

I look at the dust on my hands, flat gray/ochre....

 FreeLemonadeStand by John J. Daniels is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.