But when the teachers of religious law who were Pharisees saw him eating with tax collectors and other sinners, they asked his disciples, “Why does he eat with such scum?” When Jesus heard this, he told them, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor—sick people do. I have come to call not those who think they are righteous, but those who know they are sinners.” [Mark 2:16-18 (NLT)]
While editing photos, I came to one of a pipevine swallowtail. Seeing it on my computer rather than the camera’s viewfinder, I realized it had seen far better days. Its once beautiful wings were tattered and torn, only one “tail” remained, an antenna was missing, and, with many of its scales gone, its wings were more translucent than iridescent blue. Perhaps it had a close call with a predator, the wind had tossed it around, or it simply was old. In any case, it was damaged goods and no longer beautiful.
We tend to discard broken things, battered items, and damaged goods without giving them a second thought and I was ready to delete the less than perfect butterfly. What if God tossed us away because of our imperfections, scars, and defects? What if He stopped caring for us because we were scratched, broken, dented, or wearing out? Unlike the butterfly, it’s not birds, hail, or blowing twigs that leave us ragged and torn; its things like illness and injury, betrayal, loss, dysfunctional families, abuse, mental illness, broken relationships, addiction, financial crises, and sin. Even though the resulting damage isn’t always visible, we’re marred with pain, shame, regret, rejection, disappointment, disgrace, anger, apathy, loneliness, and fear. No one gets through life without getting a few bumps and bruises along the way and we all are damaged goods. Our scuff marks, scars, and brokenness may not be as obvious as the butterfly’s; nevertheless, they are there.
Jesus came for the less than perfect. Think of the people he loved, touched, healed, welcomed, and forgave. Sinners all, they included hated Samaritans and disparaged Gentiles, pariahs like lepers and the bleeding woman, the blind and crippled, an adulterous woman, some traitorous taxmen, political zealots, people with sordid pasts, the demon-possessed, a repentant thief, a prostitute, the disciple who denied Him, the one who doubted Him, and even the one He knew would betray Him! Jesus didn’t come for the perfect; He came for the defeated, damaged, disheartened, and sinful. While the butterfly’s wings will never heal, Jesus can heal the brokenness in our hearts and souls.
Originally, I hadn’t detected the butterfly’s damaged state because it flitted about so quickly that I barely had time to focus before it flew off to another flower. While it may have been damaged, that pipevine certainly wasn’t defeated. In God’s wisdom, He made butterflies more resilient than they appear. While the loss of an antenna means they have some trouble navigating, the loss of scales changes their aerodynamics, and the loss of much of their wings makes flight slower and more demanding, butterflies can thrive and survive, as that battered pipevine proved! It never allowed its tattered wings to deter it from making the most of the sunny day or the remaining days God allotted it. Instead of hiding under a leaf feeling sorry for itself and complaining about the unfairness of life, it was dancing in the flowers and sipping sweet nectar! Rather than being deleted, it belonged in a butterfly hall of fame.
Now, whenever I come across a damaged butterfly, I’m reminded that God loves all of His beautiful children, imperfect and broken creatures that we are. No matter how flawed, He will never discard us or toss us in the trash heap! God made us even more resilient than a fragile butterfly. Because of His power, we never need surrender to life’s challenges. We may be battered by this world but, because God’s grace is more than sufficient, we can carry on. If tattered wings can carry a battered butterfly through the flowers, we know that God can carry us through anything.
As we continued our brief study on prayer, one person shared that his prayer frequently is for patience. Agreeing, I admitted often praying, “Lord, please give me patience…and give it to me now!” While patience is a fruit of the Spirit, I have a problem getting it to grow in the garden of my life.
Last week, after singing we’d come in the opening hymn, we promised to go in the closing one: I the Lord of Sea and Sky. Originally written for a Roman Catholic ordination mass in 1981, it has found its way into many Protestant hymnals. As I sang the refrain, “Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?” I thought of Samuel and Isaiah, both of whom were called by God and both of whom responded by saying, “Here I am.” I wonder if I would have responded as positively as did they. Like Moses, would I have protested or, like Jeremiah, say my age disqualified me? Would I simply have run away as did Jonah? Although Moses, Jeremiah, and even Jonah eventually answered God’s call, I’m not so sure I would have (although three days in the belly of a fish might have convinced me)!
After admonishing the crowd surrounding Him for being able to predict the weather but being oblivious to the signs of the arrival of God’s Kingdom, Jesus told a parable about getting right with God before judgment. As He was speaking, he was told about a recent incident in which Pontius Pilate ordered his soldiers to murder some Galileans while they offered their Temple sacrifices. On Monday, in “The Man from Galilee,” I wrote about the stereotypes Judeans had of Galileans; along with thinking them to be uneducated peasants, many Judeans regarded Galileans as trouble-making rebels against Rome. Indeed, Galileans had revolted after Herod the Great was named King, and, in 6 AD, another rebellion was led by Judas of Galilee. Indicating Rome’s expectation of armed resistance from Jesus and his Galilean disciples, a contingent (around 500) of heavily armed soldiers were sent to arrest Him in Gethsemane. Jesus even asked if they thought him a dangerous revolutionary. While turning the other cheek and loving one’s enemies was a revolutionary concept, that was not the kind of revolution people expected from a Galilean.
Devotions of the Heart 