Thursday, December 22, 2005

Uncomfortable Truths

Jody Bottum has been on fire lately. Or perhaps he always is, I don't know. But this struck me somewhere deep, in that place no one likes to dig, where we know how complicit we are in the tragedy of the world, where we know that we, too, were there, driving the nails through flesh, into the wood:

It's not my fault -- the cry we've made every day since Cain was born. Down somewhere in the heart, there's always an awareness of just how wrong the world is, how fallen and broken and incomplete. This is the guilty knowledge, the failure of innocence, against which we snarl and fight: It's just the way things are; it's not my fault. What would genuine innocence look like, if it ever came into the world? I know the answer I am called to believe: like a child born in a cattle shed. But to understand why that is an answer, to see it clearly, we are also compelled to know our guilt for the world, to feel it all the way to the bottom.


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