When Israel was a child, I loved him,
     and out of Egypt I called my son...
Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk,
     I took them up in my arms;
     but they did not know that I healed them.
I led them with cords of human kindness,
     with bands of love.
I was to them like those
     who lift infants to their cheeks.
     I bent down to them and fed them...
How can I give you up, Ephraim?
     How can I hand you over, O Israel?
How can I make you like Admah?
     How can I treat you like Zeboiim?
My heart recoils within me;
     my compassion grows warm and tender
     (Hosea 11:1,3-4,8)

"Time out. Steps. Now."

These are words that my wife and I found ourselves saying repeatedly to our two-year old son earlier this year, as we waged the battle of wills that - from what I hear - almost inevitably ensues after that second birthday. So many times he would not listen, or treat his little brother roughly, or act obstinately, and we would be forced to punish him with a time-out on the steps for a couple minutes as we all calmed down and soothed our anger. Usually, he is quite contrite afterwards, sad not only because he has been punished, but because he has disappointed us as well. For our part, my wife and I find that the exasperation we sometimes feel lessens a bit as we take two minutes to calm down on our own; usually we all are ready for reconciliation when the time out is finished.

Those who have children must be able to imagine, then, the divine frustration with a recalcitrant people who err and backslide at every opportunity, who disobey instructions, and who continually assert their own personalities to the detriment of those around them-and how much more so! Because while my son challenges me with not eating his vegetables, or spitting water down his shirt, I challenge God on a regular basis with my own backsliding, neglect, and human weakness in a variety of ways. I am constantly deserving of a "time-out," and of one much longer than a few minutes, at that.

I try to keep in mind that I must seek to approach God with the same humility, sincere repentance, and desire for reconciliation with which my son comes to me after sitting quietly on the stairs; with the birth of my children, I now have some insight into the struggle that God, the divine parent, goes through with each of my many offenses. And each time I sin, I am met again with the same divine desire for reconciliation in the form of Jesus' humanity; I am confronted by the fact that, by the grace of God, my time-out has already been served by another over the span of three days in the tomb.

Most Holy God, I give you thanks for your mercy and grace; for your desire to perform reconciliation, both with your people Israel in the past, and with your people, the church, today. I pray your forgiveness, and I pray for your own guidance and strength in my dealings with others. Amen.

Contributed by Jeremy
Sunday August 24, 2008
Liturgical Year A Week 39
Sunday Gospel reading:
Lectionary 21 (Proper 16)
Twelveth Sunday after Pentecost