Scrawny Carrots

So, another post inspired by Clement.  The Eucharistic readings for his day include Colossians 1:11-20, one of my favorite pieces of Scripture.  It is the epitome of "high Christology," the cosmic Christ who was and is and is to come.  "He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation . . . He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.  He is the head of the body, the church; he is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, so that he might come have first place in everything.  For in him all. the fullness of God was pleased to dwell."

Wow.  That's a lot.  I might stumble over the masculine gendering of Christ, but I see the glory.  I know the glory is bigger than any one gender can handle, bigger than my mind or my language can take in.  These words, though, bring me into the forecourt of the Holy.

But here's where the carrots come in.  This immortal, infinite Word shows up as a Palestinian peasant who is crucified.  Not exactly how we might expect the "image of the invisible God" to show up.

I recently read about a woman who wanted to give her children the sweetest, nicest carrots, so when she went to the store she searched for the small and tender ones.  Years later her son told her of his resentment when he saw her choosing the "scrawny carrots."  He thought the big ones were the good ones, the ones that would show her love.  He didn't know that they were tough and tasteless; he thought they looked good.

So it is with gifts from God.  God gives us Herself, dwells with us, and all we see is scrawny carrots.  God is always giving me gifts: lessons I need to learn, people who help me along by challenging me as well as comforting or agreeing, other challenges that help me grow.  And I?  So often I see scrawny carrots.

So back to Clement's collect.  Give me, give us grace to discern your Word wherever truth is found.  Give me the grace to trust that you are picking out carrots that answer my need, however they look to me.  Give me the grace to see you in the poor, in the left out and rejected, in the arrogant and unpleasant.  Open my eyes to your love and your fullness, dwelling among us.  Amen.