We sin so it abounds. How in Christ would it ever otherwise?

January 12, 2014 § Leave a comment

—And your choosing them, your plagiarized words, with your lecherous leers, looking down their shirts and up their skirts, does what then? Aren’t yours the grubby, groping hands of an angry God, deflowering the virginal language of those preachers?

—This is serious …

—Who’s joking? You think I don’t know my religion, but I’ve known you long enough to pick up a few things.

—My choosing them doesn’t change them or what they are. Sinners are indicted in this life … they experience their corruption, know it as something different from everyday self-loathing … they experience the presence of something innocent and uncorrupted … something that maybe doesn’t belong … that crops up where maybe it shouldn’t, or has no reason to. A kind of beauty that’s actually kind of horrific if you think about it.

—I’m sorry, really I am. You would not have called me unless you knew I’d be honest, but I don’t buy this at all. All those words, the ones your wretched eyes are somehow permitted to see and depraved brain is for some reason allowed to choose, are somehow exempt? They get a free pass from, what do you call it, the Fall?

—It’s grace. A gift …

—No, I’m sorry, but your Saint Paul got it wrong. We sin so it abounds. How in Christ would it ever otherwise? Those words you idolize, don’t you understand, they’re as depraved as you. This is what your professor’s been telling you and everybody else for years.

—I don’t think …

——The words must be made right, R., redeemed. And how? Through the sin of my lips and the filth of your tongue.

—I’m hanging up now …

—Your professor is right. Listen to him. What you call grace is the sin, else there’d be no gift at all …

—Goodbye …

—Being damned’s a beautiful thing, like most of life’s necessities.

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