In
"The Custom House," the introductory chapter to his classic novel The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne
satirizes the career bureaucrats whom he supervised as surveyor of that
establishment:
Mighty was their fuss about little matters, and
marvellous, sometimes, the obtuseness that allowed greater ones to slip between
their fingers! Whenever such a mischance occurred,—when a wagon-load of
valuable merchandise had been smuggled ashore, at noonday, perhaps, and
directly beneath their unsuspicious noses,—nothing could exceed the vigilance
and alacrity with which they proceeded to lock, and double-lock, and secure
with tape and sealing-wax, all the avenues of the delinquent vessel. Instead of
a reprimand for their previous negligence, the case seemed rather to require an
eulogium on their praiseworthy caution, after the mischief had happened; a
grateful recognition of the promptitude of their zeal, the moment that there
was no longer any remedy!
Well,
he had been fired from his post there and had vowed to take revenge, so perhaps
his account is a trifle unkind. Still, who hasn't encountered the kind of
bumptious officialdom that only acts when it's too late?
John
the Baptist seems to have taken a Custom House approach to the religious
coalition of red- and blue-staters who dropped in to hear him preach. The
Pharisees crowded to the Fox News and Tea Party right in both politics and
theology. The Sadducees doubtless drove up to John's camp meeting in Volvos (if
not Priuses!) that sported NPR bumper stickers. Curiously, John has the
identical message for both: He orders the to slither off somewhere else and
sell their snake oil. Then, mixing his metaphors to take the congregation on a
bullet train to Eden, he tells them to stop eating forbidden fruit and bear the
blossoms of real repentance.
Then
comes the Custom House clincher: It's too late to tend the tree after someone
chops it down. The flood's coming so best learn now how to live under water.
Wildfire's on the way: time to torch your selfish, sinful system so it serves
as a firebreak instead of more fuel.
In
Advent, we await the coming of Christ. In retrospect, we relive the birth at
Bethlehem and the Baptizer's first proclamation of the Kingdom. But we also
harbor the prospect of Our Lord's final return. In either case, there's no more
room for sinecured appointees who only heed prophecy after it comes to pass. We
can seal the doors once the Spirit has flown or fly to the Spirit when He
falls. We can file a police report once the thief has fled or seek Him when he
comes in the dead of night.
Hawthorne
lost his government gig largely because the spoils system shut him out when a
new party rose to power. The Kingdom of Heaven, however, recognizes only
registered Repentants. And once the polls close, there's no point casting one's
vote.
Customarily,
Doug
No comments:
Post a Comment