grace

I am a Pharisee.

I used to poo-poo the Pharisees that always seemed to show up in the gospel stories, laughing at the way they would flaunt their piety and nitpick over the tiniest details of the law, and especially at their stubborn refusal to see that Jesus was who he said he was.

But now that my sugar fast is going into its third week, I find that I have become one of them, the way I flaunt my piety (have you read my blog?  Did you know I'm fasting?) and nitpick over the tiniest details (if there are really 46 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter and Jesus only fasted for 40, does that mean I can cheat six times?) and especially in my stubborn refusal to see that grace is just what it says it is: grace.