Shalom

One would think you could daydream through a sermon based on the commandment, “Thou shalt not steal”. What more can a pastor say about that? Stealing’s not been a problem for me since I took Ricky’s dare to blow on the wax harmonica in the candy aisle at the TG&Y and my mother heard it, rushed to the scene of the crime, and made me confess to the store clerk. If I don’t have to count taking more than my share of whatever delicious food is in the house, I’m not aware of a personal problem with thievery.

Until our pastor gets a hold of that commandment and broadens it to mean this:

Don’t take away another person’s shalom, shalom being defined as, “the way things ought to be.” What a universe of possible applications and interpretations is opened up by that one statement.

“The way things ought to be”. So simple. So infinite. It applies to anything and everything. Who hasn’t thought this, cried for this, wondered about this, longed for this?

I take my two dogs for a walk almost every day. I carry plastic bags to pick up their business. I do this because I want to keep up appearances; I’m just sure someone is peering out their window watching me. I do this also because my husband has modeled this citizenry. I have never done it for any other reason.

Until I heard about “shalom”, the way things ought to be. A higher cause, a nobler reason, something to aspire to, a way to please the God who has given me a garden to tend, the privilege of influence, the ability to impact for good or ill this world I inhabit.