Pig Pen theology

Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. --Colossians 3:12-14

Yet again, my church choir experience has become the basis for thought. Imagine that: music provoking thinking.

Sunday, we sang a lovely canticle based on these verses. As I wandered through the week leading up to the actual "performance," the words followed me around.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved. . . ." 

But the words began to change a little bit; "As God's chosen people, wholly and dearly loved. . . ." 

I think this morphing began because holy is such a difficult word to define. It shows up all over the place in Scripture, but what does it mean? Three years of seminary did little to help me in better explaining this word.

But wholly and dearly loved-- that, I understand. And it made me think of Pig Pen. 

Look at him. He is a real dirt magnet. I remember in one of the Peanuts specials, Pig Pen actually appears cleaned up-- for about a second and a half. His hair is combed smooth, shoes are tied in bows-- and the dirt has settled. Then in the blink of an eye-- poof. The old Pig Pen returns, disheveled and dirty as always. 

Now, imagine being Pig Pen's mother. This is the child she loves, flesh of her own flesh. Yet every time she gets him all cleaned up, steps back to admire what a handsome lad he is-- back in the muck he goes. And yet-- she still loves him. She might sigh deeply and shake her head, but he is still her child. Her beautiful, dirt-magnetic child.

Do you suppose God is a bit like Pig Pen's mother? Anyone care to admit how much we have in common with Pig Pen?

It seems as if every time we get all cleaned up and fresh again, maybe after a particularly rousing worship service, a stirring devotional period or a profound theological discussion at Starbucks, we slurp the last drops from the coffee cup, drop the cup in the trash, head out the door-- and wham. It's as if we never even had the conversation. We are back behind the wheel suppressing road rage; our need to be "first" or "right" returns, full force.

Or is that just me?

And yet. Just like Pig Pen's mother, our Creator who loves us sighs, maybe shakes his head a bit-- and loves us anyway. Sometimes it may seem as if he is taking that perfectly pressed hankie out and trying to wipe that smudge from our face ("You've got a little something r-i-i-i-g-h-t there-- hold still and let me get it!"), but we squirm and wiggle and try to avoid the touch. He may try to guide us in new directions, steering us clear of that really big mud puddle-- only to watch us slip and go splat on something someone else left in our path. 

The love the Almighty has for his children is endless and extravagant. And many days, we need every single ounce of God's loving grace. I am afraid, on the tolerance scale, I don't always measure up. 

And that is exactly why I need that grace. Because despite my best efforts, I am often a dirt magnet. 

Ever-loving, ever-gracious God, thank you for not losing faith in me, even when my faith in myself seems fragile or muddied. Thank you for seeing your perfect image planted in my soul, written across my heart-- and thank you for placing in me a desire to seek after your heart. Amen