Mockers and Murderers

Psalm 1:1-2 

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night.

The Cost of Discipleship, Chapter Nine ("The Brother"), by Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Anger is always san attack on the brother's life, for it refuses to let him live and aims at his destruction.  Jesus will not accept the common distinction between righteous indignation and unjustifiable anger.  The disciple must be entirely innocent of anger, because anger is an offence against both God and his neighbour.  

Every idle word which we think so little of betrays our lack of respect for our neighbor, and shows that we place ourselves on a pinnacle above him and value our own lives higher than his.  The angry word is a blow struck at our brother, a stab at his heart:  it seeks to hit, to hurt and to destroy.  A deliberate insult is even worse, for we are then openly disgracing our brother in the eyes of the world, and causing others to despise him.  . . . We are passing judgment on him, and that is murder.  And the murderer will himself be judged. 

So long as we refuse to love and serve our brother and make him an object of contempt and let him harbour a grudge against me or the congregation, our worship and sacrifice will be unacceptable to God.  Not just the fact that I am angry, but the fact that there is somebody who has been hurt, damaged, and disgraced by me, who "has a cause against me," erects a barrier between me and God.

God has been speaking to me through the above passages over the most recent while.  Through them--and through Mr. Squire--God is revealing my status as a mocker and a murderer, and causing me to repent.

Mr. Squire and I share many inside jokes.  The jokes are for fun and for laughs.  We also share many code words.  Those are for calling each other out in a gentle manner.  When I'm grouchy or crabby and Mr. Squire calls me Barty.  When he's chewing with his mouth open--again--I ask him how his food tastes today.  When I'm acting OCD about something that doesn't matter, he calls me particular.  When he's not being nice, I call him meanybean.  And when I'm being snarky, he calls me PT.

I wasn't always snarky, but over time, I think it has become easier and easier to be snarky.  Usually it is paired with the times when I am being super-judgmental -- then the snarkiness really sets in.  It's pretty bad.  But for a while there, I didn't really realize how bad it was; I actually thought I was being witty and funny, particularly since Mr. Squire was the only one around to hear my snarky remarks, and he usually knows where I'm coming from, so he was laughing along.  (Kind of bad when the wolf is guarding the hen house.)  Every now and again, though, when I got super-snarky, Mr. Squire would call me PT, and then I would join him in drawing the line.  

A couple weeks ago, in doing his own Bible reading for the day, Mr. Squire came across Psalm 1, and he asked me out of the blue:  "Is PT a mocker?"  And I replied, "I guess so -- why?"  Then he read Psalm 1:1-2 to me.  And it kind of broke my heart.

It hit me that in God's eyes, my being snarky is totally the same as being a mocker.  And it is a blessing NOT to sit in the company of mockers like me who--by the way--share the same sludgy position as sinners and the wicked.  Sadness.  Sometimes I feel like the Bible isn't speaking to me.  But man, Psalm 1:1-2 speaks to me--loudly.  And PT has been making far fewer appearances ever since.  

Then, last night, I was reading the passage in Bonhoeffer's book about anger.  Let's back up for a second.  I have to say: when I get angry, I'm almost always indignant about it.  I think I'm right.  I'm not a loose cannon; if I'm mad, I have a darn good reason to be.   And where my anger erupts from an ongoing frustration, then I am all the more indignant--even against my brothers and sisters.  

What I have paid too little mind to thus far, however, is the fact that anger puts up not only a wall between me and the object of my anger, but a wall between me and God.  That's a powerful image, and one that pierced my judgmental soul last night.  Nothing is worth the mounting of a barrier between me and God.  I need as much of His light, love, favor, and goodness as I can get.  Is my petty frustration or so-called righteous indignation worth the brick wall that separates me from God and someone who is His child?  And is it worth becoming a murderer for?  Um, no.  So why build it in the first place?  Good question.  

I'm seeing anew how far I have to go, and how much I need Jesus to change me from the inside out.  I'm going after the good roots, and I want Jesus to prune away the mocker and murderer in me.  Prune it away and throw it to the fire -- leave only what will be useful for the Kingdom.