Proper 8 / Pentecost 6 / Ordinary Time 13
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VIII, Cycle A
Object:
Theme For The Day
God's grace is a precious gift.
Old Testament Lesson
Genesis 22:1-14
Abraham Prepares To Sacrifice Isaac
This is among the darkest and most troubling of all passages of scripture. Entire books have been written, seeking to come to terms with its implications -- the most famous being Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling. The story is spare in its details: We see Abraham going through the motions but come to understand little of his motivation. In a sense, that is the point: for this is a parable about obedience to God. When it is God who calls, all human concerns must necessarily fade into the background. God's command to sacrifice Isaac challenges Abraham on several levels. First, he must put aside his natural paternal love for his child. Second, he must abandon his expectation that God will fulfill the covenant through Isaac. Because of the extraordinary way in which Isaac was conceived -- to a mother far past her childbearing years -- it would seem that God, having created a narrow window by which the covenant could be fulfilled, is now slamming that window shut. Third, Abraham must move beyond all expectations he may have as to how God is likely to act. He is called to practice the purest sort of faith -- faith for faith's sake, with no expectation of how God will make things right, just a sense that God is God and can be trusted. "God will provide," as Abraham affirms in verse 8. In the words of Walter Brueggemann, "Abraham does not tell Isaac all he wants to know because Abraham himself does not know. He does not know at this moment if Isaac is God's act of provision. He does not know that God will provide a rescue for Isaac. It could be either way: Isaac or an alternative to Isaac. Abraham does not know, but he trusts unreservedly" (Genesis, in the Interpretation commentary series [Atlanta: John Knox, 1982], p. 188).
New Testament Lesson
Romans 6:12-23
Slaves Of Righteousness
Continuing where last week's epistle lesson left off, Paul presses on with his argument. He encourages his readers not to give in to sin, which "will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace" (v. 14). Echoing the rhetorical question of 6:1, Paul asks whether Christians ought to continue in sin "because we are not under law but under grace." The answer is as emphatic as it was earlier: "By no means!" Employing a metaphor that doesn't translate well to modern society but was more intelligible in his own time, Paul observes that slaves must obey their masters. If our master is sin, then we are inevitably subject to sin; but if our master is God, then we will live in ways that glorify our master's desires for us. Therefore, we must consider ourselves "slaves of righteousness" (verses 16-18). Pursuing the argument into something of a logical thicket (at least from a modern viewpoint), Paul then observes that when we were slaves to sin, we were free with respect to righteousness. Now that the situation is reversed, we are free from sin (verses 20-22). "The wages of sin," he famously observes, "is death" (v. 23). Folk singer Bob Dylan, after converting to Christianity, penned a song, "You've Got To Serve Somebody." His point is similar to Paul's: We have an inborn need to serve someone, and it had better be God -- because the alternative is hardly worth thinking about.
The Gospel
Matthew 10:40-42
Protocols Of God's Reign
Having acquainted his disciples with the true cost of following him (see last week's comments), Jesus concludes his instruction to them by making it clear where he stands. He is the mediator between them and God: "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me" (v. 40). The same is true of prophets and of righteous people in general: They are representing the one who has sent them, so to welcome them is to welcome God (v. 41). By the same token, because Jesus identifies with the oppressed, to offer a cup of cool water to a suffering person is to offer the same to Jesus (v. 42). Just as ambassadors represent the ruler who sends them, so Jesus represents God, and the disciples represent Jesus. It's the diplomatic protocol of God's reign.
Preaching Possibilities
"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." With those words, or something similar, we begin most of our worship services.
The words, of course, are those of the apostle Paul. With those words, and others like them, he begins most of his letters. Grace to you: so important does Paul consider this thing called "grace" that he uses it to begin just about every letter.
It also occurs in today's epistle lesson, used in a different way: "You are not under law but under grace" (Romans 6:14).
Paul's talking about the theological concept of grace. To declare that someone is under God's grace, as he sees it, is to recognize the most wonderful gift he can imagine.
"Grace" is one of those New Testament words that's just about untranslatable. It is charis in the Greek; it's the root of another Greek word, charisma. Journalists today have made the word "charisma" over into something akin to "magnetic personality," but it really means "spiritual gifts." A "charismatic" person, be she politician or movie star, is not someone who looks good on camera and can dish out a sound-bite faster than you can say, "Fox News." No, in the New Testament sense, a "charismatic" person is someone whose life is positively filled with the Holy Spirit: someone who has a task to do in the church and is able to do it faithfully and well.
This concept of charis, that forms the root of "charisma," is the word, grace. Back in Paul's day, folks knew what that meant. Classical Greek writers used the word to mean something like "delightful." A "grace" was a delight to the eye and to the spirit. In Greek mythology, there are three daughters of Zeus known as "the three Graces." The names of these three lovely women are translated, "Splendor," "Mirth," and "Good Cheer." Graces such as these, in the earthy Greek way of looking at things, make life worth living.
Also in the ancient Greek world, there's a political sense of the word. Charis, or grace, came to mean the kindness or favor shown by a king to his subjects. Kings, back then, were all-powerful. They could just as well cut off your head as give you a farm. If you were in the king's "good graces," you made out all right. But, Zeus help you if you weren't!
The word "grace" appears lots of times in the Old Testament, as well -- and there it generally means "favor," in a very similar way. Whenever the Old Testament talks about God's favor, it means God is not angry but is rather blessing the people. The Most High God, like the Greek kings, doesn't have to bless the people; God just does, and when God deigns to do so, life is good. If God withholds grace, the people perish.
When it comes to the New Testament, "grace" takes on a whole new meaning. God, the giver of grace, is not some remote, autocratic ruler from on high. No, this is the same God who has given the Son, the one who perished on the cross, that we might have life. This God who "so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (in the immortal words of John 3:16) is a wounded, hurting God. This is not a God who looks down upon the world with distant, unapproachable disdain, but is rather a God who gazes in wonder at the figure of Jesus on the cross and weeps. It is a God who, when Jesus dies, shakes the world with the thunder of divine grief and sends storm clouds to blacken the sun. This is a God, in other words, who suffers along with us.
This means God is not so distant as we see in the Old Testament. The experience of common suffering binds people together in unity. Because we can look, along with God, on the crucified Jesus and feel sorrow, we occupy some sort of common ground, however limited and small it may be. Because we share a common grief -- and a common joy at the resurrection -- we are in living relationship, one with another.
Grace, as God's free gift, is a wonderful concept, but it's not always easy to communicate. People resist it for various reasons.
Some people believe the gift's not free but that they already own it by right. These are the ones who base their status as a Christian upon prior tradition. Maybe they come from a family that always went to church, even though they no longer do so themselves. Maybe they were baptized long ago and still have the certificate somewhere in a bottom drawer. (Hey, there's no expiration date on the thing, it must still be good!) Maybe they're married to someone who's very religious, and they figure something of the holy will rub off on them, as their spouse rolls out of bed to go to church of a Sunday morning.
Then there are other people who believe, deep down, they don't deserve God's grace. These are the people who were raised in homes where they could do nothing right, who absorbed from an early age the dreary message that they aren't good enough, and never can be good enough. The role of evangelism, in working with these people, is to raise them up to their feet and assure them that, yes indeed, because of what Christ has done, they are good enough -- and that no past sin is so heinous that they are unredeemable.
Still other people believe the gift's not free, but that they've earned it themselves. These are the Pharisaical types: proud believers who fill their days with law and order, who feel certain heaven will be filled with nice people just like them -- model citizens who know the rules and keep them. To "selfmade" individuals such as these, the thought that God would simply give salvation away to anyone who asks honestly and earnestly for it seems scandalous.
But that's what Paul means when he speaks about living "under grace" -- he's celebrating with his friends from the church in Rome the free, unmerited nature of the gift. Then, as now, it's a hard message to comprehend or accept. Yet, it's at the very heart of the Christian gospel.
Prayer For The Day
God of justice and mercy,
we want to look on ourselves as righteous,
deserving of your blessing,
but we know otherwise.
We have fallen too many times
to try to fool ourselves into thinking
we will not do so again.
Yet, we rejoice in your promise of grace.
When we are weak, you are strong.
When we are faithless, you are faithful.
When we would turn from you in shame,
you welcome us back in a loving embrace.
Teach us to trust your promise of grace,
for Jesus' sake. Amen.
To Illustrate
It was a scene that could very well have happened in any big department store in our land in these weeks following our annual Christmas gift-giving extravaganza.
A woman approaches the customer-service desk and declares, a little testily, "I'd like to return this."
The clerk smiles, and replies, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but that gift is not returnable."
"Not returnable?" she retorts -- her blood pressure immediately shooting up a few points. "Isn't this the store where it came from?"
"Well, yes," the clerk admits. "Not only that, this store is the only place that item can be found."
"Well," huffs the woman, "Then I don't understand why I can't return it. But let's try this: How about I exchange it for something else of equal value?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the clerk continues, "There is nothing else of equal value."
"I find that absurd," says the customer. "How about this: If you can't refund the purchase price, and if I can't exchange it for something else, could you at least credit my account?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am. You see, the purchase price already has been credited to your account: credited in full." The man's smile becomes brighter.
"You mean to tell me the cost of this item has already been credited to my account, and I still have it in my possession?"
"That's right," he says. It looks like the clerk could just about burst out laughing any minute.
"I don't understand," she replies, shaking her head. "Somebody must have paid an awful lot for this."
"You can't imagine how much," the clerk says, quietly. "You can't imagine how much." As for the woman, she just walks away, with a puzzled look on her face.
So what is this mysterious gift?
It's nothing you can place in a box and tie up with ribbon and bows. It's nothing you can slide into an envelope, either -- not even one of those envelopes with the oval cut-out inside, just right for a dead president's profile portrait. It's nothing you can hold in your hand at all.
The un-returnable gift is nothing less than the grace of God.
***
"Grace" is a theological term, to be sure, but it also has a common meaning. If you describe a teenager, say, as "full of grace," what are some things you might mean?
First of all, you'd mean the person isn't clumsy or awkward. She's one of those people who can perform the old finishing-school trick of walking through a room with a book balanced on top of her head.
Second, the person would always know the right thing to say. Never would the phone ring, and this guy pick it up, all red-faced and tongue-tied -- not even if the person on the other end were that drop-dead-gorgeous captain of the cheerleaders, the one all the guys want to go out with. No, the man of grace lets fly sentence after sentence of elegantly crafted prose with not a hint of nervousness or anxiety.
Finally, the graceful teenager is the soul of tact. Never does she return insult for insult. Even if someone's making fun of her, she just goes on her way. The words roll off her, like water off a duck's back. And when it is time for her to say something, she's just as likely to mention something kind about her persecutors as to retaliate.
Well, some would say that "grace," as applied to a teenager, is an oxymoron. But then, I suppose that would be true for just about everyone. We all have our moments of supreme awkwardness, be they physical or social!
It's a good thing this sort of grace is not what Paul's talking about. No, he's got something far more wonderful in mind.
***
There's a story of a little girl who was born with a cleft palate. From her earliest days, she knew she was different. She looked different, for one thing. She talked differently, for another. People would pass her on the street and stare for one brief moment; then look quickly away -- or, they would look at her in a way that made her feel like they were looking right through her. On those occasions when someone asked about her lip, about the scar from her cosmetic surgery, she would often lie and tell others she'd been in an accident. She took to walking around her neighborhood with her hand over her mouth as though she were deep in thought.
One day this girl's life changed forever. She was in the fourth grade, and it was time for the annual hearing test. Back in those days, before headphones and microphones, they did the hearing test in a very simple way. The student would cover one ear, and the teacher would whisper a phrase into the other. The students who could repeat the phrase back, passed the test.
Most of the time, the phrase was something simple, like "the sky is blue," or "the dog is black." This time, however, the teacher whispered another sentence: One she'd never used before with any other student. Looking down at the little girl with the cleft palate -- the one who was so self-conscious and insecure, she covered her mouth with her hand -- the teacher bent down and whispered, "I wish you were my little girl." The girl never forgot those words. She carried them with her, like a talisman, through all her years.
God has been whispering a similar message to us -- and to everyone who's ever struggled with sin and salvation. Instead of "I wish you were mine," the Lord breathes the words "Grace to you" -- and, in those seasons of life when we're too stubborn to hear, God will keep saying them to us -- keep shouting them to us, keep whispering them to us, whatever it takes.
God's grace is a precious gift.
Old Testament Lesson
Genesis 22:1-14
Abraham Prepares To Sacrifice Isaac
This is among the darkest and most troubling of all passages of scripture. Entire books have been written, seeking to come to terms with its implications -- the most famous being Kierkegaard's Fear and Trembling. The story is spare in its details: We see Abraham going through the motions but come to understand little of his motivation. In a sense, that is the point: for this is a parable about obedience to God. When it is God who calls, all human concerns must necessarily fade into the background. God's command to sacrifice Isaac challenges Abraham on several levels. First, he must put aside his natural paternal love for his child. Second, he must abandon his expectation that God will fulfill the covenant through Isaac. Because of the extraordinary way in which Isaac was conceived -- to a mother far past her childbearing years -- it would seem that God, having created a narrow window by which the covenant could be fulfilled, is now slamming that window shut. Third, Abraham must move beyond all expectations he may have as to how God is likely to act. He is called to practice the purest sort of faith -- faith for faith's sake, with no expectation of how God will make things right, just a sense that God is God and can be trusted. "God will provide," as Abraham affirms in verse 8. In the words of Walter Brueggemann, "Abraham does not tell Isaac all he wants to know because Abraham himself does not know. He does not know at this moment if Isaac is God's act of provision. He does not know that God will provide a rescue for Isaac. It could be either way: Isaac or an alternative to Isaac. Abraham does not know, but he trusts unreservedly" (Genesis, in the Interpretation commentary series [Atlanta: John Knox, 1982], p. 188).
New Testament Lesson
Romans 6:12-23
Slaves Of Righteousness
Continuing where last week's epistle lesson left off, Paul presses on with his argument. He encourages his readers not to give in to sin, which "will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace" (v. 14). Echoing the rhetorical question of 6:1, Paul asks whether Christians ought to continue in sin "because we are not under law but under grace." The answer is as emphatic as it was earlier: "By no means!" Employing a metaphor that doesn't translate well to modern society but was more intelligible in his own time, Paul observes that slaves must obey their masters. If our master is sin, then we are inevitably subject to sin; but if our master is God, then we will live in ways that glorify our master's desires for us. Therefore, we must consider ourselves "slaves of righteousness" (verses 16-18). Pursuing the argument into something of a logical thicket (at least from a modern viewpoint), Paul then observes that when we were slaves to sin, we were free with respect to righteousness. Now that the situation is reversed, we are free from sin (verses 20-22). "The wages of sin," he famously observes, "is death" (v. 23). Folk singer Bob Dylan, after converting to Christianity, penned a song, "You've Got To Serve Somebody." His point is similar to Paul's: We have an inborn need to serve someone, and it had better be God -- because the alternative is hardly worth thinking about.
The Gospel
Matthew 10:40-42
Protocols Of God's Reign
Having acquainted his disciples with the true cost of following him (see last week's comments), Jesus concludes his instruction to them by making it clear where he stands. He is the mediator between them and God: "Whoever welcomes you welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes the one who sent me" (v. 40). The same is true of prophets and of righteous people in general: They are representing the one who has sent them, so to welcome them is to welcome God (v. 41). By the same token, because Jesus identifies with the oppressed, to offer a cup of cool water to a suffering person is to offer the same to Jesus (v. 42). Just as ambassadors represent the ruler who sends them, so Jesus represents God, and the disciples represent Jesus. It's the diplomatic protocol of God's reign.
Preaching Possibilities
"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." With those words, or something similar, we begin most of our worship services.
The words, of course, are those of the apostle Paul. With those words, and others like them, he begins most of his letters. Grace to you: so important does Paul consider this thing called "grace" that he uses it to begin just about every letter.
It also occurs in today's epistle lesson, used in a different way: "You are not under law but under grace" (Romans 6:14).
Paul's talking about the theological concept of grace. To declare that someone is under God's grace, as he sees it, is to recognize the most wonderful gift he can imagine.
"Grace" is one of those New Testament words that's just about untranslatable. It is charis in the Greek; it's the root of another Greek word, charisma. Journalists today have made the word "charisma" over into something akin to "magnetic personality," but it really means "spiritual gifts." A "charismatic" person, be she politician or movie star, is not someone who looks good on camera and can dish out a sound-bite faster than you can say, "Fox News." No, in the New Testament sense, a "charismatic" person is someone whose life is positively filled with the Holy Spirit: someone who has a task to do in the church and is able to do it faithfully and well.
This concept of charis, that forms the root of "charisma," is the word, grace. Back in Paul's day, folks knew what that meant. Classical Greek writers used the word to mean something like "delightful." A "grace" was a delight to the eye and to the spirit. In Greek mythology, there are three daughters of Zeus known as "the three Graces." The names of these three lovely women are translated, "Splendor," "Mirth," and "Good Cheer." Graces such as these, in the earthy Greek way of looking at things, make life worth living.
Also in the ancient Greek world, there's a political sense of the word. Charis, or grace, came to mean the kindness or favor shown by a king to his subjects. Kings, back then, were all-powerful. They could just as well cut off your head as give you a farm. If you were in the king's "good graces," you made out all right. But, Zeus help you if you weren't!
The word "grace" appears lots of times in the Old Testament, as well -- and there it generally means "favor," in a very similar way. Whenever the Old Testament talks about God's favor, it means God is not angry but is rather blessing the people. The Most High God, like the Greek kings, doesn't have to bless the people; God just does, and when God deigns to do so, life is good. If God withholds grace, the people perish.
When it comes to the New Testament, "grace" takes on a whole new meaning. God, the giver of grace, is not some remote, autocratic ruler from on high. No, this is the same God who has given the Son, the one who perished on the cross, that we might have life. This God who "so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (in the immortal words of John 3:16) is a wounded, hurting God. This is not a God who looks down upon the world with distant, unapproachable disdain, but is rather a God who gazes in wonder at the figure of Jesus on the cross and weeps. It is a God who, when Jesus dies, shakes the world with the thunder of divine grief and sends storm clouds to blacken the sun. This is a God, in other words, who suffers along with us.
This means God is not so distant as we see in the Old Testament. The experience of common suffering binds people together in unity. Because we can look, along with God, on the crucified Jesus and feel sorrow, we occupy some sort of common ground, however limited and small it may be. Because we share a common grief -- and a common joy at the resurrection -- we are in living relationship, one with another.
Grace, as God's free gift, is a wonderful concept, but it's not always easy to communicate. People resist it for various reasons.
Some people believe the gift's not free but that they already own it by right. These are the ones who base their status as a Christian upon prior tradition. Maybe they come from a family that always went to church, even though they no longer do so themselves. Maybe they were baptized long ago and still have the certificate somewhere in a bottom drawer. (Hey, there's no expiration date on the thing, it must still be good!) Maybe they're married to someone who's very religious, and they figure something of the holy will rub off on them, as their spouse rolls out of bed to go to church of a Sunday morning.
Then there are other people who believe, deep down, they don't deserve God's grace. These are the people who were raised in homes where they could do nothing right, who absorbed from an early age the dreary message that they aren't good enough, and never can be good enough. The role of evangelism, in working with these people, is to raise them up to their feet and assure them that, yes indeed, because of what Christ has done, they are good enough -- and that no past sin is so heinous that they are unredeemable.
Still other people believe the gift's not free, but that they've earned it themselves. These are the Pharisaical types: proud believers who fill their days with law and order, who feel certain heaven will be filled with nice people just like them -- model citizens who know the rules and keep them. To "selfmade" individuals such as these, the thought that God would simply give salvation away to anyone who asks honestly and earnestly for it seems scandalous.
But that's what Paul means when he speaks about living "under grace" -- he's celebrating with his friends from the church in Rome the free, unmerited nature of the gift. Then, as now, it's a hard message to comprehend or accept. Yet, it's at the very heart of the Christian gospel.
Prayer For The Day
God of justice and mercy,
we want to look on ourselves as righteous,
deserving of your blessing,
but we know otherwise.
We have fallen too many times
to try to fool ourselves into thinking
we will not do so again.
Yet, we rejoice in your promise of grace.
When we are weak, you are strong.
When we are faithless, you are faithful.
When we would turn from you in shame,
you welcome us back in a loving embrace.
Teach us to trust your promise of grace,
for Jesus' sake. Amen.
To Illustrate
It was a scene that could very well have happened in any big department store in our land in these weeks following our annual Christmas gift-giving extravaganza.
A woman approaches the customer-service desk and declares, a little testily, "I'd like to return this."
The clerk smiles, and replies, "I'm sorry, ma'am, but that gift is not returnable."
"Not returnable?" she retorts -- her blood pressure immediately shooting up a few points. "Isn't this the store where it came from?"
"Well, yes," the clerk admits. "Not only that, this store is the only place that item can be found."
"Well," huffs the woman, "Then I don't understand why I can't return it. But let's try this: How about I exchange it for something else of equal value?"
"I'm sorry, ma'am," the clerk continues, "There is nothing else of equal value."
"I find that absurd," says the customer. "How about this: If you can't refund the purchase price, and if I can't exchange it for something else, could you at least credit my account?"
"I'm afraid I can't do that, ma'am. You see, the purchase price already has been credited to your account: credited in full." The man's smile becomes brighter.
"You mean to tell me the cost of this item has already been credited to my account, and I still have it in my possession?"
"That's right," he says. It looks like the clerk could just about burst out laughing any minute.
"I don't understand," she replies, shaking her head. "Somebody must have paid an awful lot for this."
"You can't imagine how much," the clerk says, quietly. "You can't imagine how much." As for the woman, she just walks away, with a puzzled look on her face.
So what is this mysterious gift?
It's nothing you can place in a box and tie up with ribbon and bows. It's nothing you can slide into an envelope, either -- not even one of those envelopes with the oval cut-out inside, just right for a dead president's profile portrait. It's nothing you can hold in your hand at all.
The un-returnable gift is nothing less than the grace of God.
***
"Grace" is a theological term, to be sure, but it also has a common meaning. If you describe a teenager, say, as "full of grace," what are some things you might mean?
First of all, you'd mean the person isn't clumsy or awkward. She's one of those people who can perform the old finishing-school trick of walking through a room with a book balanced on top of her head.
Second, the person would always know the right thing to say. Never would the phone ring, and this guy pick it up, all red-faced and tongue-tied -- not even if the person on the other end were that drop-dead-gorgeous captain of the cheerleaders, the one all the guys want to go out with. No, the man of grace lets fly sentence after sentence of elegantly crafted prose with not a hint of nervousness or anxiety.
Finally, the graceful teenager is the soul of tact. Never does she return insult for insult. Even if someone's making fun of her, she just goes on her way. The words roll off her, like water off a duck's back. And when it is time for her to say something, she's just as likely to mention something kind about her persecutors as to retaliate.
Well, some would say that "grace," as applied to a teenager, is an oxymoron. But then, I suppose that would be true for just about everyone. We all have our moments of supreme awkwardness, be they physical or social!
It's a good thing this sort of grace is not what Paul's talking about. No, he's got something far more wonderful in mind.
***
There's a story of a little girl who was born with a cleft palate. From her earliest days, she knew she was different. She looked different, for one thing. She talked differently, for another. People would pass her on the street and stare for one brief moment; then look quickly away -- or, they would look at her in a way that made her feel like they were looking right through her. On those occasions when someone asked about her lip, about the scar from her cosmetic surgery, she would often lie and tell others she'd been in an accident. She took to walking around her neighborhood with her hand over her mouth as though she were deep in thought.
One day this girl's life changed forever. She was in the fourth grade, and it was time for the annual hearing test. Back in those days, before headphones and microphones, they did the hearing test in a very simple way. The student would cover one ear, and the teacher would whisper a phrase into the other. The students who could repeat the phrase back, passed the test.
Most of the time, the phrase was something simple, like "the sky is blue," or "the dog is black." This time, however, the teacher whispered another sentence: One she'd never used before with any other student. Looking down at the little girl with the cleft palate -- the one who was so self-conscious and insecure, she covered her mouth with her hand -- the teacher bent down and whispered, "I wish you were my little girl." The girl never forgot those words. She carried them with her, like a talisman, through all her years.
God has been whispering a similar message to us -- and to everyone who's ever struggled with sin and salvation. Instead of "I wish you were mine," the Lord breathes the words "Grace to you" -- and, in those seasons of life when we're too stubborn to hear, God will keep saying them to us -- keep shouting them to us, keep whispering them to us, whatever it takes.
