Devotionals

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THE FINGER OF GUILT


Situational ethics rules and reigns ... for millennia it seems. I never really stopped to think about it, considering it a modern phenomenon, but here it is in Ezekiel.

The son shall not bear the guilt of the father, nor the father bear the guilt of the son. The righteousness of the righteous shall be upon himself, and the wickedness of the wicked shall be upon himself. ( Ez. 18:20)

I don’t know why I’m surprised. Wasn’t situational ethics first verbalized by fig-leave-adorned clay? The audacity, to stand in front of Righteousness pointing fingers ... until eventually they pointed at God Himself. When you stop to think about it, it’s amazing that God’s breath didn’t vacate that clay on the wings of those accountability-refusing words, leaving at their exit nothing more than a pile of dry dust.

Need we even question the forbearance of God? Right then He could have declared the Divine experiment an utter failure, and moved on. But that would negate love. And God, among all the other things that defines His nature, is first and foremost love. And loving? Well, at it’s heart is choice, choosing to love the unlovely, the undeserving.

That’s where love goes askew in our own hearts Why? How? Because love has darkened, turned inward, ‘til all we really love is self. And that’s not even love.

How do I know? Because love first began to unfold its petals in a garden. Where into a handful of clay it breathed its own self ... and life’s heart began to beat in rhythm with love’s own. Because when finger-pointing stopped at God, He didn’t remove His love, instead He wrapped its bloodied garment tightly around that finger pointing clay. And the beauty of its fragrance wafted heavenward, carrying with it the soul of man.

We’ve become masters at rationalization. We’ve learned well from that garden clay. But as much as we try to create a new world, a different world where our own definitions rule, all we’ve achieved is a reality awash in chaos, a world formless, void, and soul-empty. A world in which the Spirit of God still hovers. A world where love’s sacrifice still offers a bloodied covering, even to finger-pointing clay ... like me.



Father God, we kneel before you so often praying for revival in our land, for revival in our own hearts, than rise to our feet and promptly return to the same path that brought us needily before Your feet. Rationalization lives and reigns, granting us godhood so convincingly we utter words of repentance, yet never allow the words to filter down to the depths of our soul where they would do their cleansing work. Oh, that we would see, truly see ourselves through Your eyes. May finger-pointing die in my life; may I see, acknowledge, confess, and faithfully repent, accepting accountability for my sin. By grace, may I allow You moment-by-moment to wrap me in the bloodied covering my own finger-pointing birthed, and taking Your hand walk the paths of righteousness rightly.



© 23 November 2005
DeAnna L. Brooks

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