Friday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

My baby sisters Janet and Peggy!

I clothed you with an embroidered gown,
put sandals of fine leather on your feet;
I gave you a fine linen sash and silk robes to wear.
I adorned you with jewelry: I put bracelets on your arms,
a necklace about your neck, a ring in your nose,
pendants in your ears, and a glorious diadem upon your head.
Thus you were adorned with gold and silver;
your garments were of fine linen, silk, and embroidered cloth.
Fine flour, honey, and oil were your food.
You were exceedingly beautiful, with the dignity of a queen.

 
Few writers can match Ezekiel for graphic imagery. His portrait of Jerusalem as a newborn baby girl, still attached by umbilical cord to placenta, discarded and abandoned in arid waste, is almost more compelling than its message. With it Ezekiel describes our complete dependence on God. We deserve nothing and receive everything as unearned and outright gift.

Ezekiel goes on to describe our ravishing beauty in God’s eyes, especially once we are dressed in splendid garments, adorned with dazzling jewelry and scented with exotic perfume. Throughout the history of the Church scriptural passages like this have answered the prayers of desperate boys trapped in Bible study.
Despite whatever polite aversion we have toward erotic imagery, we should ponder this fable and discover the jealous, passionate love God has for us. If a man finds his wife irresistible; if a grandmother simply must fondle her grandchild; if a soldier will throw himself over an IED to save his buddies; if a stranger will jump in front of a speeding car to save a child – how much more intense is the infinite love of God for each of us?
The erotic imagery of scripture should stir us to wonder, gratitude, humility and pleasure before the ravishing gaze of God. Anyone who has been the object of intense affection and remembers the moment with pleasure will recognize the feeling of being so desirable in God's sight. Those who cannot remember such an experience might yet know the ecstacy.
Ezekiel’s parable will turn violent as he complains about Jerusalem's infidelity. He describes both the jealousy of a passionate lover, which is fitting in this context; and the frustration of the prophet who feels largely ignored. That violence might seem unfair, unnecessary and counter-productive to us today; and the editors of our lectionary have wisely skipped over those passages.


The contemplative tradition of the Church invites us to stay with the rapturous words. They describe an intoxicating vision of our destiny and the wholeness -- sexual, intellectual, social and spiritual -- which is our birthright. They will heal our capacity to receive and give love.