The Theology of Detergent

Today served as a reminder that you cannot predict the ways that the Holy Spirit will use you or your words....

For my class covering practical issues of parish ministry (web authoring, budget making, research techniques, etc) we’ve been writing once a week short entries inspired by lectio divina. Though we are supposed to read each day, most weeks I simply read once and write once to fulfill the requirement. Daily discipline has always been one of my weakest points; that’s why I failed at praying the rosary nightly for Lent, why my homework is very often late, and why nothing in my life that is routine stays that way for long. I know this isn’t a good practice for me; however, I lack the will to allow myself to broken of this lack-a-daisicalness.
In October, as I was rushing to complete my weekly lectio passage before flying out of town for training, I spit out a hurried reflection on something new, and almost silly, I had seen in the Message translation of Psalm 51. I was puzzled by the imagery it used, and wrote in that off-kiltered state. I didn’t think much of it...

However, this afternoon I arrived to spend my lunch with the Presbyterian Church’s "Committee on Theological Education," which visits one seminary campus each year. As I sat down, my professor rushed over to me. She had presented to the Committee about the use of technology in education, and had used our discussion board as an example. One of the lectio responses she pulled out to show her audience was my reflection on Psalm 51. After hearing it, she said, there were those among the committee who had asked specifically for copies of the text to take home with them. I was rather shocked; I had composed it almost haphazardly and was surprised to here of other’s reactions to it.

Now, I’ll admit, I still don’t consider it anything particularly special. To me, my own writing smacks of the smarmy saccharine spirituality you find in the feel-good publication they give you at the drug store when you purchase $10 worth of adult diapers. Yet others have seen something in my words that I do not see myself; and that I can only attribute to the work of the Holy Spirit. Praise be for working in ways we do not expect.

Here is my entry, for your bemusement....

"Scrub away my guilt, Soak out my sins in your laundry.. Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life."
I spent the summer after my freshman year of college working in a laundromat. One of my primary duties was to take in clothes of some of our clients and wash and dry them for them. That's how I learned how nasty dirty clothes can be. I saw the remnants of all sorts of nastiness. I was also glad that I didn't get the stories behind it most of the time!I think there's a reason we call the secrets and hidden things in our lives our "dirty laundry" - they are the reminders of the things we are most ashamed of, the behaviors we know are unacceptable and so choose to hide from our neighbors. To God, we can very often be dirty laundry - we are not the best and brightest, that which should be shown off, because we fail daily at the mission God gives us. And yet, instead of throwing us to the rag heap, we are cleaned and bleached through repentance and forgiveness and put on again, only to be stained again by our own weaknesses.Laundering is an intimidating process; you're submitted to all sorts of chemicals, drowned in the water that will cleanse you, and then tumbled around at hot temperatures. Then your new found "cleanliness" only lasts for a day, and you're put through the entire cycle again. How much patience God has to do so much laundry every day! How strongly ought we to strive to stay clean!