It is the month of May. May is that crazy month full of baccalaureates and parties and dinners and religious ceremonies and this culture’s penultimate rite of passage, high school graduation. May is a flurry of activity that quickly breezes through the end of spring and ends with a weekend grilling at the lake. May is the month of chaos.
We are people who love to be in control and we have hundreds of devices to help us get organized, manage our time and maintain that very fallacy—that we are in control. We try and control our future, planning for retirement and all conceivable contingencies. We try and control our kids and other people’s kids. We try to control our teeth color, our hair color, and the number of wrinkles on our face. We even try and control God. We develop nifty bumper sticker theologisms defining God and letting Him know that we completely understand Him.
But trying to control God is like trying to tell a 4-year old not to blow the “pretty white wishing flowers” on the front lawn.
God’s self-disclosure (I Am Who I Am, I Will Be Who I Will Be) and incarnation defy all of our attempts to contain God within human boundaries and limitations. Thankfully, there’s chaos. It is often in those moments of sheer chaos that we catch a brief glimpse of the greatness and glory of God.
In the primordial chaos, the Spirit hovered and God created all that is good.
In the chaos of the wedding, Jesus made the best wine.
In the chaos of the empire, Jesus brought the Kingdom.
In the chaos of the storm, Jesus whispers, “Peace, be still.”
In the chaos of cross, Jesus was resurrected.
So, bring on the parties and the services and the dinners and the graduations. Bring on Cinco de Mayo and Mother’s Day and Memorial Day. Bring on the fury of spring storms and winds.
Because Jesus comes in chaos.