{GUEST POST FOR THE MUSTARD SEED CONSPIRACY}

Posted on December 22, 2019 by Jenn Zatopek

Born in the flatlands of Texas, I am the daughter of a mad poet and a troubled woman, an eighties child who loved chatting on the landline phone and singing to the radio in the car. Growing up in the country, Daddy took me on long drives at nighttime to see the sunset, the rolling prairies in the springtime after the rains came and the golden grass spinning in the wind during the height of summer. I felt Something in those moments with my father; it existed just beyond my reach because I also felt this Something in the wind when I played with friends, when I prayed while my mother kept me  late on a school night, and in high school, when I grabbed an abandoned copy of the Lord’s Prayer in someone’s desk in high school Spanish class.

It was out of the question for me to locate the Lord’s Prayer in one of our unused Bibles. If Daddy saw me with the Bible, who knows what would happen? His moods were grumpy at best and foul at worst. Staying out of the Good Book was the wisest thing while living at home while at school it was a different story. High school friends slowly moved away from me when they found out I didn’t attend church. If only they knew the trouble I had when I attempted, I thought ruefully. Daddy prohibited me from attending any religious services because he lived in cold-blooded fear that I would learn the secrets of the universe and worship God instead of him.

The truth is he was right to be afraid because I did just that. I discovered the Something I sensed throughout my life was the strong and holy embrace of a God who surely did love all of me. I celebrate the coming birth of Christ with joyful expectancy and longing. That Something feeling comes over me again when I attend midnight mass and spend time in beloved community. Perhaps this is one of the greatest gifts of Christmas, that Christ came to earth and gave us each other?

***

As I prepared to write this essay, I fretted and fumbled over the obscure passage from 2 Samual 7. Checking with my seminarian friend Adam, I learned the passage alludes to the second coming of Christ in addition to evidence that Jesus came from the line of David. After I heard that, I wanted to throw the Good Book across the room; never in my life have I felt so distant from a piece of scripture.

As a last resort, I pulled down The Message, a simple paraphrase Bible. It’s not considered a legitimate study bible, but I like bending rules; I recited the passage over and over, trying to ingest it, make it a part of me. But still, it fell flat on my face.

Until I read these lines:

And now, Master God, being the God you are, speaking sure words as you do, and having just said this wonderful thing to me, please, just one more thing: Bless my family; keep your eye on them always. You’ve already as much as said that you would, Master God! Oh, may your blessing be on my family permanently. (2 Sam. 7:28-29; emphasis mine)

Sitting back in my chair, I looked out the window at the huge oak tree, stunned at the latest spiritual epiphany. God is the roots of the tree and the transgendered community and the gays and queers and refugees and children in cages at the US border and the sex slaves and homeless and low-income Medicaid clients and the Muslims and Jews and Hindus and Buddhists and everyone from all walks of life are the branches of the glorious tree, the living body of Christ.

I’ve stumbled onto something because when I write next, the words flow; like a primed pump, the water pours out, and I am lost in the river, enjoying the dancing current. The Spirit leads the way and like a wise and joyful mother, She takes the whole world to her bosom and laughs confidently, affirming me love and kindness, laughter and welcome, saying “Honey, you have been in the fold since before you were born, just like everyone else. Now relax into My peace and enjoy your life. Bring your friends too. Everybody’s in, baby. Everybody.”

And when the Spirit beckons, we listen to Her words and we sway to the beat of Her confident dance, laughing through tears, leaning into the vulnerability of living together. 

Awakened. Hopeful. Alive.