Less Rant, More Rave

For I hear many whispering: “Terror is all around! Denounce him! Let us denounce him!”
All my close friends are watching for me to stumble. “Perhaps he can be enticed, and we can prevail against him and take our revenge on him.”

                                                                                            - Jeremiah 20:10

Earlier this week, the NY Times crossword had the clue: "Jeremiad." (Spoiler alert!) The four-letter answer was "rant." Most words come loaded with layers of meaning, but "rant" is particularly so. It can easily bring to mind the image of an overreacting whiner, one spoiling the party. The label of "rant" is often slapped on the thing just said that no one wants to heed or even hear. Prophets speak truth into situations where folks have become accustomed to lies, so it is not terribly surprising that "jeremiad" and "rant" are synonymous.

The reaction in the passage above seems predictable in this light. Jeremiah has shared some God-given insight about equality and fairness washing in like some tsunami of grace. Our indignation is immediate, our whispers hiss. "Shut him up! He better not be talking to us. Gaslight that busybody - provoke him with his own medicine, see what he tweets then!" Some prophets, even our "close friends" (see above) who are social critics, can feel a bit too incisive. Truth hits close to home, feels like an attack. In short order, it only and always feels like we are watching for each other to stumble. 

Pausing is wise in such moments. When hackles bristle, I am better served by waiting, even for an instant. I make space for grace and it allows the eyes of my heart to see the love behind my friend's honesty, a legitimate critique of a tired habit. I breathe deeper still, and I can hear the same friend's hope or longing for my true best self. Soon enough, as God would have it, I can behold that deep goodness of self long enough to smirk at the stubbornness that almost kept my goodness hidden. Our prophetic friend, it turns out, had no ploy to steal our privilege. They only ever wanted generosity to replace greed, peace to obliterate war and strife, fair play in this life game. This sounds less like a rant and more like a rave.

What would change if more us were raving in celebration of God's goodness, even if it calls us up and out of old ruts? I love the image of a rave, a wild rumpus full of cascading joy flowing from our growing ability to see this deep grace everywhere, in everyone. Let me and let you let go of the tight-fisted old ways of death to free our hands for sharing, our arms for waving, dancing like fools for love. That's my kind of jeremiad.