conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

sermon mumblings: atonement and being cast out

Rabbi Simha Bunam of Pzysha once asked his disciples, "how can we tell when a sin we have committed has been pardoned?" His disciples gave various answers but none of them pleased the rabbi. "We can tell," he said, "by the fact that we no longer commit that sin."
- Martin Buber, Tales of the Hasidim: Later Masters

This morning I woke up at 4:30 with the word "atonement" ringing in my mind. There's this state of consciousness that only exists in the moments between being asleep and awake. In this odd and arguably liminal space I often experience great clarity. Entire ideas will come to me, complete and whole ideas. Sadly, these ideas don't travel well and I can seldom piece them together once I am fully awake.

This morning, however, I am thinking about atonement. Last night I was driving home from church (ah, meetings) and passed the local synagogue. The streets were lined with cars. "Atonement is cool" I said to myself. Then I called a Jewish friend of mine to wish her well. There is something incredibly powerful to me in the idea of atonement. We have to stand before God, in the fullness of who we are and say "That was me. I did that...and I was wrong." It's exciting. I don't know why I feel that way. But there it is. I get excited when I think about it. There's no other word. Excited to atone.

It's the honesty of the moment. I think that there is something liberating in the honesty of atonement. If we are honest, spiritually honest, I imagine many of us have a list of things that we carry around that we would like to set down. I still have things that I carry around, burdens, mistake, poor decisions, injury that I have caused. I have not asked for forgiveness....repented, atoned for these things. Not yet. I have not yet stood before God and said, "I did this."

There is a parable about a wedding feast. It makes me uncomfortable because, as Scott pointed out (read the comments), there is no "moral to the story." There's no tidy ending. Some poor chump shows up under dressed and gets cast out into the outer darkness for it. I read this parable and am confused. Then the potential honesty of Yom Kippur calls out to me.

"Atonement."

The man needs to atone. He didn't atone. The king is not cruel. The king is honest and he wants the man to be honest as well. "Why aren't you dressed?" The man did not come to the banquet clothed in honesty. He came in a dishonest state. I know what that feels like. I know what the outer darkness feels like. I have wept at night. I have gnashed my teeth in fear and anxiety and in the simple knowledge that I have hurt someone. I know this state. And I know that the only way to get back into the wedding banquet is to atone...to stand before the king (perhaps for others like like Moses does) and say "Yes. I did this. It's my fault and I own it entirely." It's a form of advocacy.

"I did this. And I wish to be different. May I come to the banquet?"

Posted by tripp at October 9, 2008 05:39 AM