Merciful Sponges

I know the Bible doesn't come right out and say, "Be a sponge."  I'm pretty sure it wasn't part of the Sermon on the Mount.  But couldn't there be aspects of our lives where we are called to be a sponge?

I'm thinking of absorption.  Absorbing other people's faults and failures, being porous enough to neutralize offense and let-downs.

Increasing spongy-ness takes wisdom, I think, to be selective in what to address or pursue.  If everything causes an offense or makes you fly off the hook - if a friend showing up five minutes late makes you as angry as a loved one's rejection - then there's not enough spongy-ness there, I would say.  Some things need to be absorbed, and in judging what should or shouldn't depends upon how big of a deal it is.  Five minutes late for coffee is not a big deal, and can certainly be absorbed, and forgiven.  Even five minutes late every time can be forgiven.  Annoying.  But can be absorbed.  An offense, something harsher, takes a bit more grace to absorb.  A bit more capacity for forgiveness.  A lot more mercy.  Sometimes when a situation just seems too big to absorb, it's probably because the sponge of my forgiveness isn't yet big enough to hold it.  So I have to work on enlarging my sponge.  Eventually the hardest things will be contained.

What if you're not a sponge?  You're hard, cold, more like a shell.  Things bounce off of a shell, and a shell is hollow and empty inside.  (You get where I'm going.)   If you're a shell there's no capacity for absorption, no ability to let the fault and shortcomings of others be accepted and let go.  Little things become the biggest things, and the biggest things become unbearable.  Five minutes late for coffee has ruined the world, and a love one's rejection means a life of bitterness and offense - even malice.  Where does the shell come from?  Perhaps a prideful nature, an unloving heart, an ego.  If a shell cannot be humble enough to see the faults in themselves, how can they ever overlook the faults of others?  And if you were to fall, who would you rather have near you - a shell, or a sponge?

I would like a sponge near me.  Someone who, when I stumbled or fell, could absorb my weakness and sin, and move on.  Not a shell, who, with blunt unforgiveness, would make it all worse.  I've experienced both.  And it's been the offered grace of sponges that have affected me - positively - the most.

And I think of Jesus who, while we were yet sinners, died for us.  The ultimate sponge, taking on sin so that we could live.  Surrounded by many who challenged and hurt Him, He was not offended or angry, because He loved them, saw past the scars and the shells, to the heart.  The Samaritan woman's adultery didn't deter Him.  The young ruler's riches didn't offend Him.  Peter's disloyalty wasn't an end to Peter's walk with the Lord.  These things were absorbed for greater mercy to be poured forth.

So, be a sponge.