…Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?’ In all this Job did not sin with his lips.
I watch Paul playing with his lips, weaving his fingers, drool drips into a puddle. ‘B-e-a-u-t,’ Paul slirs, ‘b-e-a-t-i-f-u-l.’ Paul sits like a baby in a diaper, eyes flashing white, sitting upward with back arched.
‘Not a single portion of his body sinned,’ I watch Paul begin to pull his arms in his shirt sleeves, ‘I cannot even imagine.’ Paul begins to curl into a little ball, almost bouncing, like a balloon. ‘E-v-i-l,’ Paul points at himself, ‘e-v-i-l from God?’
‘No, not even his lips.’ Paul cracks a smile, his ears flicker. ‘The lips of Job.’ Paul slouches.
‘Not even his body,’ Paul continues, ‘not even his body sinned- let alone his mind, and if not Job, then what about Jesus?’
‘How much could Jesus have said, and not sinned?’ Paul flips his fingers against his teeth. ‘How much could Jesus have done, and not sinned?’ I sit there burning, almost sinning, with the image- the semblance. Job, I think to myself, Jesus, I think to myself. What is the difference between their lips?
‘Think of Satan and his three chances,’ Paul clicks his baby heels, ‘imagine the freedom Jesus had to respond! The freedom to respond, outside the bounds of sin, to let his flesh wander.’ Paul curls his fingers between his toes.
‘Imagine if Jesus kissed Satan during the temptation,’ Paul burps, ‘imagine if Jesus kissed his flesh while in the womb.’ A pink kiss, the pink lips.