Today's Spam Zen

I thought it was time to ponder another Spam Zen, since I haven't done one since October. For those who didn't see the last one, the idea is to take a random line from your spam and see what insights you can squeeze out of it. I tried to make this one lighthearted, but the line that I had to work with lent itselt to more serious reflection:

When the spider ruminates, the nearest lover beams with joy.

Remember how a spider treats her lovers? What she's ruminating on is almost certainly the last lover. It's the one not eaten that is beaming, simply because he's not being noshed on. There but for the grace of a full spider tummy goes he. This one represents one of the aspects of the human condition of which we should be most ashamed, yet it's almost universal: the relief of the person passed over by tragedy.

How often have we seen a tornado or a fire on the news and thought with a frisson, "That could have been me?" The thought we usually suppress after that is, "Thank God it wasn't." The same applies to any other misfortune: When we hear, for instance, that there will be layoffs at work, our first thought is to hope it happens to someone else. It would be great if bad things never happened, but if they do, it shouldn't be us that they happen to.

Partly, we think we really don't deserve the misfortune. I can't count the times I've kicked the bumper of my truck as it sat immobile by the side of the road and shouted, "It's not fair!" (If you'd ever seen my truck, you'd know why that's a common occurrence.) But is it really unfair? My truck breaks down because it needs some sort of maintenance. It doesn't get the upkeep it needs because I don't know how to do more than the most basic limp-it-back-home mechanical work, and I can't afford to have it professionally done. I can't afford it because I have a job that (although I like working where I do) doesn't pay very well, which I took because I really needed one at the time, which need in turn was driven by my single parenthood, which was a result of my early marriage and its failure, both of which I participated in. My choices of nearly twenty years ago have resulted now in my standing next to an obstinately non-functional truck muttering colorful violations of the second commandment.

Then, too, there's the question of sin. Even if I can't draw a line of cause-and-effect from some choice of mine and my current misfortune, I certainly have done enough other things wrong in my life to deserve whatever is happening to me and more. In fact, I've done enough wrong to merit Hell, and only the grace of God keeps me from the flames.

That grace is the ultimate example of the spam zen above. We may be passed over, like the Israelites in Egypt, but that reprieve comes at a price. A price for someone else to pay. As much as we may want to take personal responsibility for ourselves and not beam at another's suffering, the fact remains that there is no way we can be saved from the ultimate devouring expect by another taking it in our place. Jesus gave Himself to be the spider's meal, which is why we are not. We cannot have it both ways: avoid being eaten and be self-sufficient. So as much as it may gravel our pride to do it, the only response we can give to our escape from the spider is to beam with joy that it was Someone else. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Okay, I'm going to make it a meme again, and see if anybody takes it up. Specifically, I'm tagging Dani B, just so she can keep in practice until the next actual paid project I can send her. It doesn't have to be serious; be a smart-elbow if you like (it's more fun anyway). And of course, anybody else who is willing to take up the challenge is invited to as well. Let me know in the comments if you do, so I can link it.