I adjure you by the Lord that this letter be read to all the brethren. (Thessalonians 5:27)
Subject: August 13 Devotion
Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2008 12:31:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: David Bonde <dkbonde@gmail.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0 Received: by 10.151.155.10 with SMTP id h10mr9973ybo.15.1218655871184; Wed, 13 Aug 2008 12:31:11 -0700 (PDT) Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2008 12:31:11 -0700 (PDT) X-IP: 69.14.111.158 User-Agent: G2/1.0 X-HTTP-UserAgent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows; U; Windows NT 5.1; en-US; rv:1.8.1.16) Gecko/20080702 Firefox/2.0.0.16,gzip(gfe),gzip(gfe) Message-ID: <77626392-6585-4280-b6ca-d1f243e0161c@c65g2000hsa.googlegroups.com> Subject: August 13 Devotion From: David Bonde <dkbonde@gmail.com> To: SCVLP <scvlp@googlegroups.com> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=windows-1252 Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable =93The LORD said to me, "Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another and is an adulteress. Love her as the LORD loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes.=94 NIV Hosea 3:1 The NIV Bible interpolates the word =93sacred=94 into this verse. It fits the context, it has a certain poetry, and it makes clear the prophet=92s meaning, but it also distorts our hearing of it. We do not have such a thing as sacred raisin cakes in our ordinary experience. It sounds exotic, belonging to a different people and a different time. And then the verse becomes an indictment of other people far away from us. But if these are just raisin cakes, maybe there=92s a chance we might connect these with our time and our place. Not raisins, to be sure: my own memory of them is as an unwelcome snack your mother wanted you to eat because it was =93healthy=94. What a death knell for an otherwise great food. What is it we love that would compare to these treats of the great religious festivals of ancient Israel? It can=92t just be the cotton candy I remember from the Boulder County fair in Longmont Colorado when I was a child visiting the extended family. And it=92s not just the hotdog and beer of a baseball game or the frozen milkshakes I ate sitting beneath the scoreboard high in the end zone of the old Stanford stadium. It has to be something that says we love the party more than the truth. Israel is sleeping with other gods and saying it=92s all the same. Life is more fun with an Asherah pole than with the commandments to honor Sabbath, and care for the poor. Life is more fun with the majesty of a national hero running through the air with the Olympic torch than with the obligations of justice and mercy. Life is more fun with a rock and roll band or a five star gospel choir than the word that says =93love your neighbor as yourself.=94 Not that there isn=92t joy in service, or truth in a rock and roll band (or that we can=92t love the comfort of the liturgy and hymns more than their message) but we are so easily attached to the party rather than the God of the Exodus and Sinai, to the raisin cakes rather than the God of the cross and resurrection. Michael Phelps cheer for his teammates was delightful to watch, even if I didn=92t really care to see his pubic bone. But the text reminds us that we are by nature children of bread and circuses rather than the children of the one who breaks bread and is himself broken for the world.
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