Renewal
Strange how sometimes the smallest words are the ones that mean the most, and are hardest to understand. (When I was in Italy I found it much easier to understand someone just speaking as they normally would - the long words have roots in common with English, so I got them. The short ones were just alone, and there was nothing to work on. Don't worry though, this post is nothing really to do with speaking (or not) Italian.) I've been thinking, as the title says, about renewal. Two small words there: re- and -new, which together make quite an astounding concept. We tend to use renewal to describe what happens when you'd like to borrow a library book for one more week. We use it more along the lines of an extension, rather than (as I will now propose) what I think it means. To understand it better, we need to look at each part in turn.
Starting at the end, what does new mean? I think that new is a superlative. I think that when something is at that time = zero state, there is nothing else that can be 'newer' - zero is (sorry, you maths geeks) the smallest number. It is absolute. When something is at that time, that instant of creation, it is really and truly new. As time passes, it gets older, so what we really mean when we say that one thing is newer than another is that it is less old. So if new is related only to time, then it is not related to a magnitude of newness... when something is new, that is an absolute, totally, all-encompassing newness. It couldn't be any newer, as there is no more oldness to do away with. Right. Pedantic, I know ...
Now let's think about the other part, the first bit. We know that 're-' means 'again'. We aren't told of any limits by this word. Again means again, and again means again. It doesn't mean twice and then no more. It doesn't mean you have a limit to the number of 'again's you get. It just means to do it again.
Putting them together, do you see why to speak about renewing a library book loan is not doing justice to this little word? After all, most libraries have a policy where you can borrow for three weeks, then "renew" for one more. Or something. But that's not really renewal at all - there is a limit to the 're's, and new doesn't really mean new! This is (thankfully!) not how I think God's idea of renewal works. When we come to him, he makes us new. Totally. Utterly. New. That instant of creation. That thoroughly through-and-through newness. He doesn't rewind us - that would be making us 'newer' by making us less old. No, he makes us new. He re-makes us, if you like. And (again, thankfully!) he does it over and over and over again. How many times? Again. And again. And again. How many is that? As many as you need. As many times as you'll let him. And how new is that? All new. Time = zero. Nothing of the old left. New has come, old is gone and forgotten.
So if you've been feeling a little old this week - perhaps carrying doubts and shames like old library books, and trying to extend the grace you found last time to the next day - why not go and be renewed? Ask God for it, and believe him when he says you can have it. Be renewed. New. Again. New.
:-) K
- Posted by flyingkiwi on 06/06/2007.
- flyingkiwi's site
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