Learning to Eat Right

The other day I had a very frank conversation with a friend of mine. My friend is a brilliant seminary student who has a knack of taking everything I say and making it turn about to bite me. He rarely answers me straightout if it is a question, and if it is a statement he makes me question my own statement so that I am forced to dig deeper into my foundations of why I said whatever it was I said.

We were talking about tattoos and so we had entered into the Levitical terrain. Our conversation soon spilled from the tattoo controversy to a confession. I don't really like the book of Leviticus. I don't understand it, therefore I don't like it. Or, to make matters worse, I find it boring. Last year I read the Bible from cover to cover, but some of it, I'll admit, I skimmed across. For example, I love the Books of History. Last year I read them all through twice each and this year I've already read them through once. As for the Books of Poetry, well, that is another of my favourite areas to read. Job is one of my favourite books in the Bible and I read it through at least 3 times last year and once already this year. And I read all the other ones too - except for maybe Psalms and Proverbs. I sort of skipped around on those two books. Then I tackled the big Prophet books. I like those quite a bit, especially Isaiah and a few others so I read those and have already read some of them (like Isaiah) this year. On to the Minor Prophets. Those are hit-or-miss. Some of them I enjoy and feel comfortable around, others not so much. But since they are relatively short I think I read through all of them and I know I've read some of them already this year as well. But then we hit the Pentateuch. Oh boy! I enjoy most of Genesis. One of my favourite characters is tucked in its pages. Jacob. And Exodus isn't too bad. But then it goes downhill. I don't really care for Leviticus, or Numbers, and Deuteronomy is only just tolerable.

He laughed at me and said that by skimming those books I'd helped relieve my conscience. It's true and yet it is also true that I just don't really understand or enjoy those books. There is a lot of the Bible I don't understand but I enjoy and so that makes it easy to read. On the other hand there is a lot I don't enjoy but understand and so that makes it so that I have to read it. But when these two requirements (comprehension and pleasure) do not walk hand in hand I find I end up rather disappointed. Spiritual weakness on my part perhaps, I don't know. My seminary friend though admits that although he had an excellent O. T. class that opened up his eyes to the deeper beauties of the Scriptures he still had a hard time running through some of the same books (and others) that I had to run through.

This led me to thinking of a problem I had years earlier. Well, quite frankly I have it still. Years ago I was not having my devotions - at all! My conscience felt relatively appeased though because I would read great Christian books. On my agenda I had Ravi Zacharias and C. S. Lewis and John Piper and other great modern heroes of our faith. Upset - due to Piper - for my own spiritual inadequacy I spoke with a Pastor friend of mine and he said something that stuck with me.

We are supposed to grow in the Lord. To do that we invest in the Scriptures. The Bible refers to itself often as a type of food. Sometimes it's sweet and sometimes it's bitter, but it still needs to be eaten. On conversion we eat like babies because we are new in the faith. As we grow older we begin to eat more like grownups. The problem is sometimes we don't even eat right. We don't like to process the food of the Scriptures so we eat already processed foods, such as Christian books. They aren't bad, of course, but they are chewed up meals already. They have been masticated on by others and are served in small doses, in easy to swallow size.

That was a rough paraphrase of what my Pastor friend taught me. Recently C. S. Lewis presented the same idea in his own words as he prefaced On the Incarnation by St. Athanasius. He wrote, "There is a strange idea abroad that in every subject the ancient books should be read only by the professionals, and that the amateur should content himself with the modern books....He [the reader] feels himself inadequate and thinks he will not understand him [the ancient author]. But if he only knew, the great man, just because of his greatness, is much more intelligible than his modern commentator. The simplest student will be able to understand, if not all, yet a very great deal of what Plato said; but hardly anyone can understand some modern books on Platonism. It has always therefore been one of my main endeavours as a teacher to persuade the young that first-hand knowledge is not onlymore worth acquiring than second-hand knowledge, but is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire."

My Answer

Lord, the answer is "Yes."
Now, whats the question?
- Andrew Murray

Infinite Love

It is maintained that anything so small as the Earth must, in any event, be too small to merit the love of the Creator, we reply that no Christian ever supposed we did merit it. Christ did not die for men because they were intrinsically worth dying for, but because He is intrinsically love, and therefore loves infinitely.

C. S. Lewis hit the nail on the head, or however that silly expression goes. God is love! Somehow it seems so simple and beautiful yet difficult to cope with - all at the same time! Talk about confusing. There is nothing worth loving in me, there is nothing lovable about me. Well, now there is, but it's only because of Him. In Centuries of Meditations Thomas Traherne wrote, "Love can forbear and love can forgive...but love can never be reconciled to an unlovely object...He can never therefore be reconciled to your sin, because sin itself is incapable of being altered; but He may be reconciled to your person, because that may be restored."

Before Christ I was sin and nothing but sin. After Christ I am grace and nothing but grace, at least in God's eyes. He does not see my sin. His eyes do not even acknowledge it. He sees me as washed in the blood of His Son, and clean because of it. Hallelujah!

Figuring Ourselves Out

Laura Pausini in her song Corazon Roto sings a very interesting line. Translated that line says, "I know who I am even if I've not read Freud." That line is sung with strong conviction, as usual her powerful vocals make everything sound very matter-of-factual in a bittersweet sort of way. Still, one does have to wonder.... I mean, it's not easy to figure others out, but it can be worked on. Figuring oneself out is just, well, it seems impossible. I don't know if it is or not, but it sure is hard. Of other people C. S. Lewis said that we could not study them, but only get to know them. Of ourselves, in relation to God, he said, "Be sure that the ins and outs of your individuality are no mystery to Him; and one day they will no longer be a mystery to you." Letting God get to know us sounds weird. After all, He knows us better than we know ourselves. But in a hard to explain (even harder to understand) way He wants us to allow Him in. He wants us to get to know Him and to allow Him to know us as well.

Be Still and Know

The best advice I ever got came from one of the men I most respect. Dan Nuesch once put his hand on my shoulder and told me, "Carter, nunca pases por alto la oportunidad de estarte callado." This, roughly translated, would say, "Carter, never pass up the opportunity to keep quiet." Basically he was telling me to shut up!

Although I have always valued that lesson, I have not, I'm sorry to say, heeded it all that much. Yes, I am a bit of a conversationalist. Not even that. I am more of a lecturer. I talk (and talk and talk...) but it always turns into more of a monologue. I am a thinker, a poor one, but one nonetheless. So I think of what I want to say and plot it out and then expect people to be interested so I begin to talk. They aren't interested. They rarely are. Most people aren't. They expect a conversation, that is dialogue - not monologue!

Still it does suit my temperament quite a bit. I am a writer and so I am used to having one-sided communication. Also as a potential teacher I will be prone to have more monologue (lecture) sequences than any dialogue (conversation) sequences. Even so I must learn to listen. Other people have a lot to say. I must learn to discipline myself into listening those I love as well as those I don't love, well, at least not so easily.

Most of us talk too much. It is amazing how short Jesus' sayings are. When we pray, who does most of the talking? Is it the most important party to the conversation or the least important one? If we had the opportunity to converse with some great person, like Mother Teresa or Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, would we want to do most of the talking, or would we want to listen most of the time? Why do we talk so much to God that we have no time to listen? How patient God must be, waiting until we get rid of all our mental and verbal noise and hoping that we do not then immediately turn from addressing him to addressing the world. In that split second of silence between the time we stop talking to God and start talking to the world, God gets more graces into us than at any other time outside the sacraments.

The above words by Peter Kreeft are reflective of the little heard of (and less practiced) spiritual discipline of silence (or solitude). It is of this discipline that someone once commented that when we turn music and other sounds off we can then finally begin to think.

Affection

It is well past midnight. I am sitting in front of my computer typing this wearing nothing but white, ankle high socks and dark grey boxers. I have a tall, cold glass of Coke sitting on the desk near me. I wish it were Diet Coke but am still glad to have what I've got. I am listening to Elvis Presley and reading C. S. Lewis. The world is now well. All is as it should be and I could not be happier. Or could I? If I put a certain amount of effort into thinking about this last question I am sure I could come up with reasons that might make me happier but I don't want to waste my effort on that. I would rather enjoy the complacency of my idle contentment and just share what I have read by Lewis. The following excerpt is drawn from the Affection chapter of his book, The Four Loves. I have underscored the most important thoughts.

We may say, and not quite untruly, that we have chosen our friends and the woman we love for their various excellences - for beauty, frankness, goodness of heart, wit, intelligence, or what not. But it had to be the particular kind of wit, the particular kind of beauty, the particular kind of goodness that we like, and we have personal tastes in these matters. That is why friends and lover feel they were "made for one another." The special glory of Affection is that it can unite those who most emphatically, even comically, are not; people who, if they had not found themselves put down by fate in the same household or community, would have had nothing to do with each other. If Affection grows out of this - of course it often does not - their eyes begin to open. Growing fond of "old so-and-so," at first simply because he happens to be there, I presently begin to see that there is "something in him" after all. The moment when one first says, really meaning it, that though he is not "my sort of man" he is a very good man "in his own way" is one of liberation. It does not feel like that; we may feel only tolerant and indulgent. But really we have crossed a frontier. That "in his own way" means that we are getting beyond our own idiosyncrasies, that we are learning to appreciate goodness or intelligence in themselves, not merely goodness or intelligence flavoured and served to suit our own palate.

Hunted then Hated

Shakespeare wrote on the symptoms of what C. S. Lewis calls "tyrannous lust" and said:

Past reason hunted and, no sooner had,

Past reason hated.

This is a concept applicable to us in most instances of lust. Now, as I refer to lust I am not referring exclusively towards the sexually impulsed lust but to all lusts in general. Still I will focus on the sexually impulsed lust primarily. The reason for this focus is because it fits so perfectly with the illustration of II Samuel 13:15, which says, "Then Amnon hated her with a very great hatred; for the hatred with which he hated her was greater than the love with which he had loved her." Crazy, huh?

Still I think this does affect us in all of our lusts. I am using lust in a loose fashion, synonymous in a way of desire. We often desire (lust) after something with fervent urgency then - once acquired - the thrill dies. That is often the case with sin. We want it. We get it. We regret it. We hate it. That is, I think, because we go about things the wrong way. First of all, we sin. That is just wrong. A real "no-no." Sin goes against our very nature. Yet at the same time it fits in quite snugly with our nature. Yeah, I know, it's confusing. Our Christian nature goes against sin. It doesn't mix, kind of like water and oil. On the other hand our Human nature and sin go along hand in hand. Yet it's the Human nature that requires a constant execution (commonly called consecration). So if it is put to death it is only resurrected every time sin is commited. Sin is done and then repented of, or regretted at least, and then...Yeah, and then we hate ourselves for falling - again!

Thank God for forgiveness!

Is All Enough?

Elvis Presley is truly the King of Rock-n-Roll. You can't help but feel a jive go on inside of you as you listen to the sound of his songs. The piano in A Big Hunk o' Love is incredible. Sometimes that inner jive begins to spill out and I begin to spin around. His music is just that powerful, and that good too! Well, it's in that same song that he says, "You're just a natural born bee hive, filled with honey to the top, but I aint greedy, baby, all I want is all you've got!" That comment got me to thinking (a dangerous habit of mine). Why do we always want more? Or rather, why do we always want it all? Can't we conform ourselves with less? Sometimes a little less is enough. Sometimes all can be too much. Too much can be rather gluttoneous. Of course sometimes all can still not be enough too, so it really depends. This makes me think of my other post, The Deal on Dating. We expect all and so we feel we have to give all. Either way it's impossible. Even in a marriage situation where more is had than at any point prior you can never still have it all. That is, I suppose, the wonder or beauty or magic of it all. It leaves you wanting more.

The Deal on Dating

A number of years ago I read a book titled I Kissed Dating Goodbye. It was, to say the least, an interesting book. I respect the author (Josh Harris) very much and admire his convictions. At the time they seemed best. After all, as Christians we are not supposed to run about dating like chickens with our heads cut off. The metaphor may be a little off, but I think you get the picture. Dating for the Christian audience should equal marriage. In a secular environment it is not for marriage but rather for having fun. Fun for a secular audience is usually equivalent to sex, at least according to the Christian bias of the world and its methods. Dating in the secular realm is casual. On the other hand, in the spiritual realm it is all about commitment. Either way, in my book, it's just not cool.

Anyways, it just so happens that at that time I had fallen into the Christian trap. The opening illustration to the book served only to strengthen that strangle that had already taken hold of me. The illustration was about a character about to be married and while waiting for his bride to step up the aisle several girls look to him. They are the girls of his past. In a way it is similar to the film Ghosts of Girlfriends Past, only much cleaner. These girls (ghosts) all cry out to him reminding him (haunting him) of his treatment towards them. All the spent caresses, the used up kisses, the dismissed promises, the broken vows, and the wasted words now back - angrier than ever.

So in my mind it seemed only natural to regret every tangible love affair (and intangible as well). Whenever my heart weakened before a girl it had to cave in completely or else it was just not worth it. This was due in part to my own rather passionate nature but also to the idea that I could only fall in love once. It was a flawed plan from the start. Soon I began to regret ever saying the *three magic words and turned them into curse words until I was no longer capable of sharing them (*I love you). I was afraid to look at an attractive girl (let alone touch her) for fear I might like her and yet she not be "the one."

There is a lot of talk going about finding "the one." If you ask me I think it's bogus. Just a bunch of huey! In the grand scheme of things there might be a "the one" scenario, but even then I don't think it very likely at all. I was terrified of what C. S. Lewis spoke of when he commented on religion, "This quasi-religion was all a one-way street: all eros (as Dr. Nygren would say) steaming up, but no agape darting down." Do you understand? It was all a paranoia of being haunted by my own folly. Or, perhaps worse, a paranoia of hurting someone else. This second one was the nobler of the two reasons, only because it was Biblically justified. Yet it was, I'll admit, not the primary reason.

In the back of my mind there was this idealized vision of saying I love you only to my wife. Of kissing (and all the rest of that good stuff) only with my wife. Well, that was just not the case. I did like other girls - yes, even my emotions and attractions had to be suspended until I encountered "the one." So, yes, I did like other girls but then ended repenting of it....right before meeting the next one! Thus George Whyte-Melville wrote, "We always believe our first love is our last, and our last love our first."

It took me some time to understand what Lewis later wrote of (only in the following chapter). "But a desire is turned not to itself but to its object. Not only that, but it owes all its character to its object. Erotic love is not like desire for food, nay, a love for one woman differs from a love for another woman in the very same way and the very same degree as the two women differ from one another. Even our desire for one wine differs in tone from our desire for another. Our intellectual desire (curiosity) to know the true answer to a question is quite different from our desire to find that one answer, rather than another, is true. The form of the desired is in the desire."

Sacred Picklocks

Whenever you cannot understand a text, open your Bible, bend your knee, and pray over that text, and if it does not split into atoms and open itself, try again.

If prayer does not explain it, it is one of the things God did not intend for you to know, and you may be content to be ignorant of it.

Prayer is the key that opens the cabinets of mystery.

Prayer and faith are sacred picklocks that can open secrets, and obtain great treasures! There is no college for holy education like that of the blessed Spirit, for He is an ever-present tutor, to whom we have only to bend the knee, and He is at our side, the great expositor of truth.

Charles Haddon Spurgeon, commonly called "the Prince of Preachers," wrote the above statements. We have, at salvation, been installed into the family of God. But there is more to it than just that. We have also become part of His home. We are members of his house and with that come certain responsibilities or chores. According to I Corinthians 4:1 we have been installed in His home as servants and stewards (similar to a manager). What is it though that we have to manage? Well, the verse answers that question, "Let a man regard us in this manner, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God." We are to manage the mysteries of God. Tough call. This means, I think, that we are to become familiar and skillful with the Scriptures. Capable of realizing the call in II Timothy 2:16 to "accurately handle the word of truth." A Word which is as sharp as a sword and which requires the expertise of a good swordsman, yet with the caution of a wise one as well. C. S. Lewis wrote, "The sword glitters not because the swordsman set out to make it glitter but because he is fighting for his life and therefore moving it very quickly." Our responsibility, even our capability, are no call for pride. We are managing/handling the Scriptures because we are commanded to, and our only real access to them is through the "sacred picklocks" that Spurgeon wrote of - prayer and faith.

A Lesson on Lists

I am, I'll admit, an avid list maker. Yes, it's true. I won't deny it. I love to make lists. When I go shopping I always make a list. I make a list because it helps me not to forget what I went shopping for. I make a list so I can keep to the task at hand and not get too far out of my budget. I also make a list because I feel powerful whenever I cross things off it.

Yet there is one area in which I hate to make lists. When I was growing up I would hear girls giggle over their "dream lists." You know, the kind of list where she puts down all the attributes she's looking for in a guy. Usually it is ridiculous stuff such as "That he make me laugh." Or, "That he enjoy midnight strolls on sandy beaches." And so on and so forth.

First of all lists such as those make absolutely no sense. Whatever you get is going to be what you have been looking for subconsciously anyways. I mean if you like humour you will be drawn towards funny guys. If, on the other hand, you have a more romantic edge you will be attracted to the more chivalrous kind. It's all part of your makeup and you don't need a list.

Besides you'll never figure yourself or the other person out well enough. I mean, sure, you'll get what you want and what you look for, but at the same time I think more than 80% of what you'll get in the other person will be a surprise. And that's great. God wanted it that way. He wrapped us all up in a lot of mystery and there is no greater anticipation than the ecstasy of getting to know the other person every day a little more and a little better.

Which brings up another point - God doesn't need your lists. He doesn't work according to your lists or to anyone elses. He has His own agenda, and He sticks to it!

Miguel de Cervantes (the author of Don Quixote) wrote his own list and said, "Required in every good lover... the whole alphabet...Agreeable, Bountiful, Constant, Dutiful, Easy, Faithful, Gallant, Honourable, Ingenious, Joyful, Kind, Loyal, Mild, Noble, Officious, Prudent, Quiet, Rich, Secret, True, Understanding, Valiant, Wise...Young and Zealous." That is quite a list for any guy to fill out. Although I do find it interesting to note that he did not put anything physical into it. I mean, there are no physical qualities sought after and nothing descriptive as to appearance is even mentioned.

God has put up lists for us. He has put up lists for guys and for girls. There is more than one list for each but often some of the "traits" are repeated in each. For example, the guys get Psalms 15 and the girls get the classic Proverbs 31. In these passages, just as with Cervantes, the physical is not mentioned. There is a lot talked about concerning attraction, the qualities mentioned are, after all, desirable, but there is nothing to be said of physical attraction. That's not to say that it is omitted because of negligence or lack of importance. God does talk about beauty - a lot. He encourages it. Yet He also understands that it is in "the eye of the beholder" whereas all the other traits must be observed by all and cannot be individualized.

Mark Driscoll spoke on this idea of lists and related it to Ruth. She was not the kind of girl who would be list making material on normal standards. She was a foreigner. She didn't have money. She lived with her mother-in-law. She wasn't a virgin. She was a widow. She was pretty aggressive with her come-ons. Not exactly list material and yet she made it into the lineage of Christ. She was the girl of any man's dreams, just not of his dream lists.

God as our Manager

God seems to do nothing of Himself which He can possibly delegate to His creatures. He commands us to do slowly and blunderingly what He could do perfectly in the twinkling of an eye.

C. S. Lewis wrote this comment on God and it has struck me as rather strange. Why would God do this? Could it be that, to paraphrase from the Batman Begins film, we fall so we can learn to pick ourselves back up again? So we work - poorly - so we can learn to work properly. Is this some form of training for a greater job up ahead? We do, after all, have a lot of work ahead of us.

We are not saved by works, but we are saved for works (Eph. 2:10). There have been works prepared for us. I am not sure what this all means. This is just a few of my thoughts on the matter. It might mean that we all have our respective works, or chores, to realize. We are a family, yet in this family though we are all the same we are all different. Brilliant contradiction, but not really, it is only an apparent contradiction and whenever an apparent contradiction is found one is sometimes able to find a perfect complement to explain it all away.

As a family we are one unit, but we are all quite individual all along. It works also with the metaphor of the body. We are one body yet we all have individual responsibilities (works). We all work together to the same end but our chores (works) might vary. One could insert here the controversial idea of spiritual gifts, or talents, or abilities, or any other form of capability. And yet it is interesting to consider that we are all unique. We are different in that we are really all the same. We all work together for His glory.

The key concept is, I think, to simply overlook what our individual responsibilities might be and just to get the job done. It's not like we aren't all responsible to serve, to evangelize, to teach, to encourage, and so much more. I might be more suited in one area, say teaching for example, but I am still going to be held accountable for evangelism. Frightening thought!

So let's get the job done, remembering that William Law said, "For God has made no promises of mercy to the slothful and negligent. His mercy is only offered to our frail and imperfect, but best endeavors, to practice all manner of righteousness."

Cracks in the Temple

What are cracks useful for? Nothing!

Cracks are dangerous things. They are open areas that should remain closed. They allow rain water to seep in. They accumulate dust, filter in cold air or even bugs. They can also cause, if untreated, the destruction of the entire edifice.

Josiah was a king without parallel. One of the reasons for his reign being so successful is because of his excellent relationship with God. Before him there was no king like him, who turned to the Lord with all his heart and with all his soul and with all his might, according to the law of Moses; nor did any like him arise after him (II Kings 23:25). That is quite a legacy to leave behind.

One day while Josiah was worshipping in the temple he noticed some cracks in the temple and demanded they be repaired. Josiah was so concerned he got men together to repair the temple. Not just any men, he got the best.

The king entrusted his honoured workers with a great task yet he also provided them with all the materials necessary for its completion. In fact, he trusted them so much that he asked that the materials they used not be taken into account. Only no accounting shall be made with them for the money delivered into their hands, for they deal faithfully (II Kings 22:7). He trusted them completely.

We too have been entrusted with a tremendous task. We are God's temples, our bodies are now His home (I Cor. 3:16). But there are some huge differences between us. Where Josiah chose only the best God did something quite different. God chose the worst. Because of that He ended up with you and me "the foolish of this world" (I Cor. 2:27). He gave us, the lowly and vile of the world, a tremendous task and yet He has also habilitated us with all we need (pertaining to life and godliness) to get the job done.

So although we were chosen and made capable He will take account of us. Perhaps Josiah trusted his men and considered them faithful, well that's not the same case with God. He will take account of us. He will hold us accountable for what we do (as well as what we don't do).

Yet to all of this there is a surefire formula for success - a tender and humbled heart (II Kings 22:19).

The Power of the Cross

As we have taken the circle as the symbol of reason and madness, we may very well take the cross as the symbol at once of mystery and health. Buddhism is centripetal, but Christianity is centrifugal: it breaks out. For the circle is perfect and infinite in its nature; but it is fixed forever in its size; it can never be larger or smaller. But the cross, though it has at its heart a collision and a contradiction, can extend its four arms for ever without altering its shape. Because it has a paradox in its center it can grow without changing. The circle returns upon itself and is bound. The cross opens its arms to the four winds; it is a signpost for free travelers. (G. K. Chesterton)

The figure of the Crucified invalidates all thought which takes success for its standard. (Dietrich Bonhoeffer)

The cross is the only ladder high enough to reach heaven's threshold. (G.D. Boardman)

Jesus was crucified, not in a cathedral between two candles, but on a cross between two thieves. (George F. MacLeod)

The cross cannot be defeated for it is defeat. (G.K. Chesterton)

There are no crown-wearers in heaven who were not cross-bearers here below. (Charles H. Spurgeon)

We need men of the cross, with the message of the cross, bearing the marks of the cross. (Vance Havner)

Christ's cross is such a burden as sails are to a ship or wings to a bird. (Samuel Rutherford)

The old cross slew men; the new cross entertains them. The old cross condemned; the new cross amuses. The old cross destroyed confidence in the flesh; the new cross encourages it. (A. W. Tozer)

All heaven is interested in the cross of Christ, all hell is terribly afraid of it, while men are the only beings who more or less ignore it. (Oswald Chambers)

These are simply a few of the musings I've collected on the theme of the Cross over the past couple months. Powerful thoughts. Powerful cross. One of my favourite songs is The Power of the Cross by Keith Getty. The message stated in that song must grip the heart of everyone who listens to it, if it doesn't there is something very wrong with that heart. It is cold. It is dead. When I hear this song my heart swells with a confusion of emotions, as do my eyes. I will inevitably cry as this song plays. My tears are a sign of my own emotions, mixed and torn as they are. They are tears which reveal the grief I sense at the thought of my Saviour's suffering. They are tears which reveal my joy as I sense the relief of salvation. They are tears of exultant gratitude as I know I now stand forgiven at the cross.

Duels Between Mysteries

...it is possible in the same solely practical manner to give a general answer touching what in actual human history keeps men sane. Mysticism keeps men sane. As long as you have mystery you have health; when you destroy mystery you create morbidity. The ordinary man has always been sane because the ordinary man has always been a mystic. He has permitted the twilight. He has always had one foot in earth and the other in fairyland. He has always left himself free to doubt his gods; (but unlike the agnostic of today) free also to believe in them. He has always cared more for truth than for consistency. If he saw two truths that seemed to contradict each other, he would take the two truths and the contradiction along with them. His spiritual sigh is stereoscopic, like his physical sight: he sees two different pictures at once and yet sees all the better for that. Thus he has always believed that there was such a thing as fate, but such a thing as free will also. Thus he believed that children were indeed the kingdom of heaven, but nevertheless ought to be obedient to the kingdom of earth. He admired youth because it was young and age because it was not. It is exactly this balance of apparent contradictions that has been the whole buoyancy of the healthy man. The whole secret of mysticism is this: that man can understand everything by the help of what he does not understand. The morbid logician seeks to make everything lucid, and succeeds in making everything mysterious. The mystic allows one thing to be mysterious and everything else becomes lucid. The determinist makes the theory of causation quite clear, and then finds that he cannot say "if you please" to the housemaid. The Christian permits free will to remain a sacred mystery; but because of this his relations with the housemaid become a sparkling and crystal clearness. He puts the seed of dogma in a central darkness; but it branches forth in all directions with abounding natural health.

G. K. Chesterton wrote this in the second chapter (The Maniac) of his book Orthodoxy. In this book he addresses a vast array of intriguing concepts. Sanity and Insanity are in a duel. Mysticism and - what could go here? Perhaps Factualism or something of that scientific calibre. In the end he also pits Free Will and Fate in its own duel. Yet all these "intriguing concepts" are still part of a great mystery. Someone once said that genius was the standard to distinguish between sanity and insanity. If that is the case then what of the demented genius of Hitler and other vicious conquerors? It is all a mystery. Perhaps, though, there is no greater mystery than the Free Will of man.

Searching for Self

Your real, new self (which is Christ's and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him. Does that sound strange? The same principle holds, you know, for more everyday matters. Even in social life, you will never make a good impression on other people until you stop thinking about what sort of impression you are making. Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply tell the truth (without caring two pence how often it has been told before) you will, nine times out of ten, become original without ever having noticed it. The principle runs through all life from top to bottom. Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favourite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in.

- C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

A Head Held High

The only thing I know, my only 'claim to fame,' is that once I was blind but now I can see. My testimony is summarized in the same words of Bartimaeus as he said, "One thing I know is that once I was blind but now I can see" (John 9:15). Jesus opened my eyes.

Before I had been blind but now I was able to see. Of course I was still not allowed to see everything. Even Moses had to content himself with seeing God's back. But now, with this ability to see, I have to learn where to place my sight. The Bible unlocks the secret to the most exquisite vision available. Hebrews 12:2 tells us to "fix" our eyes on Jesus, He is the source of all beauty.

Unfortunately I often let my eyes wander. That's when God knocks me down just so I'll look up again. Some of the most severe trials in my life have also produced some of the most intimate visions of God. Such was the case with Stephen as well. Stephen also got knocked down, yet it was because the world was not worthy of him. While the stones were being thrown and the portals of death began to open Stephen caught a vision of God (Acts 7). Stephen kept his head up when others would have ducked, if only instinctively to avoid the oncoming rocks.

But You, O Lord, are a shield about me, my glory, and the One who lifts my head (Psalms 3:3). When we get down, even when knocked down, God lifts our head. He holds our heads up. If our eyes wander or waver He is there to lift our eyes back up to Him. When things get difficult and we'd rather look away, He holds our head high so we can look to Him. Jars of Clay sing about this promise in God will lift up your head (one of my favourite songs).

Stephen understood that with his eyes fixed on the Rock of his salvation no other rocks could harm him. We too must look to Christ. He has promised to succor us, to be our "opportune rescue." So, to paraphrase Hebrews 10:22-23, Let's get close to God and trust Him with all we've got because He has promised to care for us, and He never fails His promises.

On Judging Others

The poet never maketh any circles about your imagination, to conjure you to believe for true what he writes. He citeth not authorities of other histories, but even for his entry calleth the sweet Muses to inspire him a good invention; in truth, not labouring to tell you what is, or is not, but what should or should not be. And therefore, though he recount things not true, yet because he telleth them not for true, he lieth not, - without we will say that Nathan lied in his speech, before alleged, to David; which as a wicked man durst scarce say, so think I none so simple would say that Aesop lied in the tales of his beasts: for who thinks that Aesop writ it for actually true were well worthy to have his name chronicled among the beasts he writeth of.

Sir Philip Sidney in his An Apology for Poetry brings up, in a way, a recent post of mine (Truthfully Fictitious). It is interesting that we often do not labour to tell others what is, instead we labour to tell them what should be. We are not poets, though. We are judges. David was not being a poet. He was being judgmental. The funniest part of it all is that he was judging another for his own sin. He was of course all along judging himself. We are quick to pass judgments on others yet forget that we too are like Aesop's beasts - stupid.

Family Problems

Deuteronomy 1:31 paints a beautiful picture when it says, "and in the wilderness where you saw how the Lord your God carried you, just as a man carries his son." There is something remarkable about seeing a father carry his son. My dad used to carry me everywhere. My mom still loves to tell the story of how he once hiked up a mountain and I slept through the entire trail on his shoulders. Although I don't remember that I do remember that as a child I would play "blind." He would lead me by the hand and I had to keep my eyes closed. He would help me step off the curb, avoid pot-holes, and climb over bumps. It was great. I trusted him completely.

Another beautiful picture is in Isaiah 66:13 when he says, "As one whom his mother comforts, so I will comfort you." A mother's comfort is the best cure to almost any problem. I remember my mother often comforting me with her wise advice, good food, or an embrace.

Why then is it so difficult for me to fit into my family? Yes, it's true I sometimes find it difficult to fit into my family on earth, but I also find it difficult to fit into my spiritual family. It's not just sibling rivalry or jealous affections. No, it is a problem I have with God Himself. Sometimes I don't trust Him. I don't want Him to walk me by the hand and carry me. I'm a big boy, according to my standards. I mean, I've been a Christian for over 20 years. I should be able to handle myself by now. I can taste a little of the world and not get intoxicated by it all. Not so! So I crash, and He let's me fall. Then He picks me up. He comforts me and one would think I'd be grateful. Instead I am often resentful. I wonder why He let me fall in the first place. It seems to me I don't make any sense. I'm ridiculous. First I want to walk alone. Then I complain for feeling abandoned.

Eyes Unblinded

And how long will they not believe in Me, despite all the signs which I have performed in their midst? (Numbers 14:11)

There is reason to our faith. Our faith is not the absence of reason. Nor is it the absence of signs. Therefore it cannot be the absence of sight. Faith is not blind. That is simply ridiculous! If faith is not blind then what of love? Is love blind? My answer to this is also in the negative. An absolute NO!

Peter Kreeft in his book Three Philosophies of Life writes on the philosophy of suffering (based off of Job) and says, "Jesus told Martha, before he raised her brother Lazarus from the dead, "Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?" Seeing is not believing, but believing is seeing, eventually. Job does not wait patiently, but he waits. Job's faith is not sunny and serene, but it is faith. It is not without doubts. (Indeed, his doubts come from his faith. When faith is full, it is open and can include doubts; when it is weak, it cannot tolerate doubts.)" For more on this concept of a 'dubious faith' check out my post titled A Doubtful Faith.

I believe that faith instead of making you blind will open your eyes. I believe the same for love. In the case of love it is only once you are in love that you really begin to see. Everything breaks into life, suddenly everything is more beautiful. It's a revolutionary experience. As for faith being blind, a friend of mine once said that faith is blind only to the impossible. This for the Christian is a great relief because we know that in Christ there is nothing impossible anymore.

A Matter of Perception

One, seeming to be a traveller, came to me and said, "What is the shortest journey from one place to the same place?"

The sun was behind his head so that his face was illegible.

"Surely," I said, "to stand still."

"That is no journey at all," he replied. "The shortest journey from one place to another is round the world."

These are the opening lines to Chesterton's fable Homesick at Home. This is a fascinating dispute as to point of view. Sometimes our points of view are more on the lines of a "no journey at all." We like to keep it simple. We want the righteousness of the cross without the cost of the cross. We want Christianity without commitment. We want to be viewed as good people in church on Sundays and yet we adopt a worldview for everything else throughout the rest of the week.

Joshua, Caleb, and ten other men snuck into Canaan. They all saw the same exact things, yet they all saw them from different points of view. Their perception was different. Ten of them saw giants so big they were undefeatable. Two of them saw giants so big they were impossible to miss. Such was the case with David as well. He saw a giant, but he saw a giant in God, not in Goliath. Jesus saw children where the others only saw a nuisance. In each and every instance the point of view defined the moment. Our perception widens once we see through the eyes of Christ. That is when we sense the most compassion, particularly for the lost. Our perception also widens when we look to Christ. It is then that we realize we can overcome. We can overcome the evil around us, after all, He is on our side. More importantly though, we can also overcome the evil within us. You know, that nagging voice that tears us down for our faults. That voice that demands punishment of us for our many faults. Look to Jesus, He's all we need.

Indifference is Ignorance

Michael Buble is, in my opinion, phenomenal. He has taken timeless classics and brought them back to life. In his renditions of some songs he even seems to have improved them from their original quality. Not only that but he is also a musical genius. He has taken songs that did not fit into the Swing category (for example Country songs) and made them Swing. His songs frequently have the peppy beat of Swing sounds and I like that sound a lot. I also like his voice. I think he has real talent. So the combination of these two things - great sounds and great vocals - should make for great music, right? Well, yes, but not always.

I really like most of his songs, but there are a few that just don't make any sense. The following song (I'm Your Man) is a song with a great sound and great vocals, but the rest of it is pretty bad. The lyrics are not good and the philosophy they present is even worse. There are some good lines (for example, if you want a doctor I'll examine every inch of you), but there are too many contradictions throughout the song. In the song's chorus he says, "a man never got a woman back, not by begging on his knees." Yet the entire song is a series of degradations. He (the character in the song) is willing to do anything she asks of him. He is willing to be the father of her child or someone with whom she can walk on the sand. That's ridiculous.

Yes, a man must make exceptions and adaptations for the one he loves. But he must also learn to stand up for himself. There is a huge difference between a casual stroll along the sand and the fathering of a child. If he had any self respect he would tell her what he wants and then together they should work it out. As it stands he is too wishy-washy. G. K. Chesterton said, "Impartiality is a pompous name for indifference, which is an elegant name for ignorance." His indifference as to what she wants is really ignorance. He will do whatever she wants, he is indifferent to what it might be. In fact in the song he offers to be a boxer, a doctor, a driver, a victim, a lover, a father and so much more. Love will demand many things of us and we must know what we will deliver. His indifference is really ignorance. He doesn't know what he wants to he expects her to tell him what he is supposed to be. That's absurd.

Does God Use Sin?

Christians often make the mistake of demanding too much from the lost. These demands, or expectations, are very unfair and serve as but another example of how judgmental we are in our own overly zealous self-righteousness.

Rahab, for example, lied to let the spies go free. This has posed a serious problem for many Christians who wonder how it is possible for a pagan prostitute to lie and still be accepted into the lineage of our Lord Jesus Christ. The only available answer is: His grace is abundant. That answer serves not only to explain Rahab's acceptance into the family of Christ, but also our own.

Precisely because she was pagan she was able to lie. You can't expect her to know what to do. She didn't even know what the right thing to do was! She didn't know any better. The laws of Jericho did not, I'm sure, tell its citizens not to lie. They were not under the same laws as the Jews. Perhaps her conscience originally dictated lying as a sin or as something wrong. But that was only at the beginning. Soon there comes (even for us as Christians) a point of cauterization where we no longer discern between right and wrong.

The still doesn't answer the question of God blessing her lie (or at least using that same lie). Yes, grace can explain acceptance, even forgiveness, but how does it explain how that lie was condoned? Well, quite frankly, it wasn't. God does not condone sin. Ever.

He did not bless her lie or her sin, He blessed her. Yes, He did use her lie, but only in the same way that He uses our own frailty and several weaknesses to magnify His own power. As earthen vessels we can crack. But since we are filled with His light that means that He will shine through - even through the cracks.

Thomas Watson probably explained it best, "The wisdom of God is seen in this, that the sins of men shall carry on God's work; yet that He should have no hand in their sin. The Lord permits sin, but doth not approve it. He hath a hand in the action which sin is, but not in the sin of the action."

On Breaking His Body

Tatoos were considered sinful by Christians during earlier times. In fact in Old Testament times it was a sin (Leviticus 19:28). Since then we've developed a profound dislike for anything that ties us down. It seems so primitive to be stuck in the Old Testament. After all, we are now under "grace" is the popular argument advocated.

What we do to our flesh, our skin, is now an open debate among many Christians. To make matters even more cloudy they now aspire after what they term "Christian" tattoos. This does not affect only our flesh (or skin). It also affects our hair lengths. Originally Christians abided by the simplicity of I Corinthians 11:14 which explained, "Does not even nature itself teach you that if a man has long hair, it is a dishonor to him?"

This text, as well as the one on tattoos, is now reduced to material for argument. The most popular argument on this one is context. Context is also a worthy argument for the verse on tattoos. According to the context in Leviticus it was also wrong to shave or to eat blood filled foods (verses 26 and 27).

Still, one must acknowledge that the pseudo art of tattooing is dangerous. It involves cutting oneself. Cutting oneself has always been a practice related to the occult. When the 450 priests danced and cried for Baal to prove himself for the Israelites they resorted to cutting themselves to get his attention (I Kings 18). Then there was also the demon possessed man who lived amongst tombs and would cut himself (Luke 8).

Another position for debate is now modesty. What does that even mean? Can you wear a mini skirt or should you not even show your ankles? Is it true that the Bible say's "without the wearing of ties there is no remission of sin"?

To all of this I have my opinions. On some of them I even have a conviction. But I think we are missing the big picture. We have resorted to a vicious self ownership. This is my body and I'll do with it as I please. I can tattoo. I can be hairy. I can wear what I want. I can eat and drink what I want. I can abort if I want. I can do anything I want, 'cause it's my body.

On the other hand Christ tells us, "This is my body which is broken for you" (I Cor. 11:24). He did not claim any special privileges. Instead He renounced them. He gave up His body. He had His body broken. All of this so that we could be His. We are bought with a price. A high price, in fact, it is a price so high that we cannot measure the true value of it all. Yet we must be willing to pay the cost. We must learn also to make our own lives, including our bodies, living sacrifices.

On Religion

I believe that the greatest trick of the devil is not to get us into some sort of evil but rather have us wasting time. This is why the devil tries so hard to get Christians to be religious. If he can sink a man's mind into habit, he will prevent his heart from engaging with God. I was into habit. I grew up going to church, so I got used to hearing about God. He was like Uncle Harry or Aunt Sally except we didn't have pictures.

This is part of Donald Miller's experience as related in Blue Like Jazz. Religion is certainly an interesting thing. Miller is acknowledged as being of the "emergent" brand. Another religious writer, highly respected among Protestant ranks even though Catholic was G. K. Chesterton. It was Chesterton who wrote, "So far as a man may be proud of a religion rooted in humility, I am very proud of my religion; I am especially proud of those parts that are most commonly called superstition. I am proud of being fettered by antiquated dogmas and enslaved by dead creeds (as my journalistic friends repeat with so much pertinacity), for I know very well that it is the heretical creeds that are dead, and that it is only reasonable dogma that lives long enough to be called antiquated."

Now, I certainly hope I am not the only who is reminiscing the joyous ignorance of Tevye as he sings and dances to Tradition from Fiddler on the Roof. You see, religion is often associated with superstition. Christ came to bring Truth. Religion is often associated with tradition as well. Christ came to abrogate tradition and deliver us into a new Freedom.

Inheriting His Peace

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful. (John 14:27)

When Jesus was on earth He didn't really have anything. He had to fish for His taxes (or rather send Peter out for fish). He didn't have anywhere to lay His head and was found sleeping on hard wooden boat boards. For His parade He had to borrow a donkey and ride on it to get into town. According to some standards He didn't have anything. If someone has nothing than that's all they can give you.

Of course, our standards are a little different. He had something much better than anything material. Therefore, in His love, He left us the greatest inheritance imaginable.

Sometimes inheritances give way to conflicts and family disputes. One person wanted something that another got and so on and so forth. It's the sort of stuff that enriches the suspense of mystery thrillers as it often motivates the crimes committed. But not so with Jesus. He has enough for all, and gives equally to all as well (though not all take advantage of it to an equal degree).

His inheritance is peace. In John 14:27 He promised to leave us His peace, a peace unlike any other. It's interesting that in a sense He promised to leave us Himself. He is, after all, the Prince of Peace.

This peace is unlike any other. The world promises peace - and fails. The world tries to provide peace by causing wars. I mean, how crazy is that? The world will never be able to provide what it doesn't have. It is, as Christ said, a case of the blind leading the blind.

Philippians 4:6-7 tells us that God's peace surpasses all of our expectations (as does everything that comes from God). It also promises to guard our hearts. That is a beautiful promise.

Truthfully Fictitious

Writers lie. So do tape recorders and video cameras. So does memory. As a fiction writer this doesn't bother me at all. I only have to be true to my imagination, to the characters I create, and the events that I cause. In fiction, the writer is God, without quarreling apostles, without competing deities and without any foot-dragging villagers.

The above words, spoken by Amy Bloom, reveal a sad truth. A truth which actually shelters an even deeper lie. Yes, everything and everyone (except God) lies. Our memories are not so often mistaken in telling us the truth as they are in crafting a new truth. A truth which is, in our eyes at least, better. Yet that is not so. We have to be true to the One who is true, who is, in fact, Truth Himself. Or is it really true after all? Is it true that it is better, even easier, to live a lie? It happens so frequently. So nonchalantly. It's part of our everyday lives. We sugarcoat the truth. We embellish it a little here and withdraw a few facts from it there. In the end we all live a lie.

It was Chesterton who said, "Truth is stranger than fiction because we create fiction to suit ourselves." Though, as strange as it may be, it is still held in high regard. People still respect those who speak the truth. Naturally one enjoys a good story or some light fiction. There's nothing wrong with that. Jesus applied fiction to some of His stories. He "invented" many of His parables (or whatever they were). He was a genius craftsman in the art of fiction. He employed it artfully in the expansion of our own horizons. So, no, there is nothing wrong with fiction. As long as it is, of course, kept within the proper bounds.

One Flesh Union

The other day I proposed the idea of a quick marriage to a girl. No, I didn't seriously propose to her. It was more a sort of frank discussion about the matter. It's almost August right now and I said I'd not have too much of a problem with marrying in December. There are, I'll admit, certain impediments and a lot of hard work would have to be put into it all, but I think it could work. Suddenly she looked at me and said, "Wow! You must really want sex."

That stung a little. Guys always have sex on their mind, I'm the first to admit to that. But that doesn't necessarily mean it is the first thing on our mind. Sex was hovering, if at all, towards the back of my mind. It was in a peaceful, rather dormant mode. She was the one that opened that "can of worms." Not me.

Still, it got me to thinking. How many times do we associate sex with marriage? Well, I mean as Christians we kind of have to, there's no choice. But I mean as if that were the sole purpose and nucleus, as such, of marriage. Marriage is a beautiful union which involves so much more than just the union of two bodies. Intimacy is not necessarily intercourse (though it can involve that).

Someone once suggested that becoming "one flesh" (like in the Bible) meant putting the two "fleshes" together. In other words, once a man is inside (literally) a woman, then they have become one flesh. That will explain, in part, why sex out of marriage is so dangerous. In fact, it has been compared to duct tape. The more you stick it on to other people the more it loses its stickyness. The argument is partly rational, for what really makes a marriage?

I mean, think about it. A guy can be friends with a girl and have a lot of "deep talks" and do everything normal married people can do. Except for sex. That is the one prohibition. That is the one forbidden fruit in the garden, or rather jungle, of society. Sex is a sacred thing. Yes, sacred. A marriage union cannot simply be the civil or legal or religious or any other form of contract we have made it out to be. Standing before a judge or a priest or any other person and reciting eloquent words with rich meaning actually means next to nothing. The movie Return to Cold Mountain (remember I do not necessarily endorse every source I use, such is the case with this movie) suggests an ancient ritual which marries a couple together only by the repetition of "I love you" three times. So is sex the union which forms a "one flesh" union?

I think more important than the union formed by a desire for sex is the union formed by commitment. It is a commitment "come rain or come shine" and is made because of love. Once such a commitment is made so is the best sex made. Or so I've heard. And maybe I'm wrong, or maybe there is no sex involved at all. In either case, in any case, it is the happiest possible union. It is a union made in love. Out of love. For love.

Eric Clapton and B. B. King sing, "I'm gonna love you, like nobody's loved you, come rain or come shine. High as a mountain, or as deep as a river, come rain or come shine."

Altruism Exposed

Sometimes, to patch up an argument a lover will buy his mistress flowers. There is nothing inherently wrong with that, and yet I don't really like that idea. It seems to me that flowers are meant to be appreciated. If flowers are bought to buy out another's forgiveness there is some funky selfishness going on there. Not to mention it kind of ruins the expectation of flowers, and, in a way, cheapens "the moment." So, in my own mind I came to the conclusion that I'd only buy flowers on happy occasions, or as something to cheer her up. Now, on further consideration, I see that even these intentions are selfish. C. S. Lewis wrote a brief but insightful poem on selfishness, I reference this poem in my post Selfish Enjoyments. This poem basically suggests that we are selfish "through and through." I'm afraid I quite agree with this conclusion. We are. Whether flowers be bought to heal a relationship or encourage a relationship they are still bought to keep a relationship alive. Understandably one might think this a good thing, and in fact, it probably is. Relationships should not remain broken, they do need healing and mending. They are also supposed to be encouraged. I mean, it is important to try to make your partner happy, to see her smile and whatnot. Yet I think if we dig deep enough we will discover we want those relationships kept intact and healthy for our sakes more than for the sake of the other person or for the sake of the relationship itself. I think we want to make the other person happy because it serves to make us happy. We want to make the other person smile because we feel good, in a self-satisfied way, and we are the ones who enjoy the beauty of that smile (in a selfish way). Why this could be taken to all extremes of life. Even altruism. Altruism is another manifestation of selfishness. We dive in front of the oncoming truck to rescue someone perhaps because we care for the person about to be hurt, if so we do it not for the person but because we care about that person. Or perhaps we simply do it because we dream of looking heroic. Even the routine of day by day sacrifices, smaller but at the same time perhaps greater, are done out of selfish motives. We pay for our children's education because we don't want to look out of place and we take pride in their intelligence. The list could go on and on. Yet even though everything has an undercurrent of selfishness we often overlook it and are content to keep on believing the nicer things. These often motivate us to do more nice things. There are, or so it seems, good intentions linked to our bad (selfish) intentions. If we focus on the good intentions we are on the right track, yet I think it is good to once in a while perform an examination of ourselves (perhaps even our own souls) just to realize how depraved we are. Or are we really so very depraved? Don't we also see a lot of selfish motivation behind God's actions? Hedonism is a driving force behind not many of our actions but all of them. Could it be part of our divine interaction? Is this at least a part of what being made "in His image" means? For example, even in the sacrifice of Christ upon the cross (extreme altruism) there was a selfish motivation. No, He did not die because He needed us. He didn't even die just because He loved us. There's more to it. He created us and didn't want to lose us. He wanted us. Literally, wanted. That is a little selfish if you ask me.

Physical or Divine

I love you
Not only for what you are,
But for what I am
When I am with you.

I love you,
Not only for what
You have made of yourself,
But for what
You are making of me.

I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;

I love you
For putting your hand
Into my heaped-up heart
And passing over
All the foolish, weak things
That you can't help
Dimly seeing there,

And for drawing out
Into the light
All the beautiful belongings
That no one else had looked
Quite far enough to find

I love you because you
Are helping me to make
Of the lumber of my life
Not a tavern
But a temple.

Out of the works
Of my every day
Not a reproach
But a song.

I love you
Because you have done
More than any creed
Could have done
To make me good.
And more than any fate
Could have done
To make me happy.

You have done it
Without a touch,
Without a word,
Without a sign.

You have done it
By being yourself.
Perhaps that is what
Being a friend means,
After all.

This poem is quite simply titled Love and is written by Roy Croft. I am not all sure if it is written from a physical plane. Often our distinctions are between what is secular and what is sacred. With this poem that distinction does not apply. If there is any distinction to be made in this poem than it must be between a physical love and a divine love. Yet if it is a physical, that is human, love than it is still sacred for the poem is beautiful. Of course not everything of beauty is sacred. On the other hand the poem itself is beautiful but the message it has to convey is incredible, and must therefore, I believe, be treated sacredly. It could very well fit as a divine love. Every reference of a "you" could be of another person, a special someone or what not. It could also be a "you" in reference to God. Either way it fits. It makes sense.

On Ugliness

In the post prior to this one I encouraged us to look upon the ugliness of our Lord. This is a concept I have proposed to others and started no small argument over as well. It is a strange thing and certainly not worthy of any serious argument, but it is still a theory I've developed and will share now with you.

A professor once suggested that the reason why the two witnesses on the road to Emmaus did not recognize Christ was because He still bore the scars of the abuse from the crucifixion. I was shocked. It didn't seem possible. He merely suggested it but since this professor was a particular favourite of mine (a true genius of a man) I didn't want to let it lie either.

The Bible says there was no more "beauty" left on Him (Isa. 53). He was so deformed that there was no longer a human semblance to Him. Yet I always thought He would recuperate it. Then I began to think on it a little more. After His resurrection He still bore the scars on His hands, His feet, and even His side. Therefore, if He still bore those scars what is to reason that He didn't bear all the other ones as well?

When Lewis penned the Chronicles of Narnia he depicted Aslan in a scene of redemption as resurrecting from the Stone Table (The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe). When Aslan, the Lion, came back to life he returned with his mane fully intact. Of course the glory of a lion is found in his mane but still it is allegory. Simply because Lewis depicted the beauty and glory of a lion's mane being recovered does not mean that Christ too recovered His own beauty. As for His glory, yes, well, that was never lost. It was never even compromised.

Now we bump against something else. Was Jesus really all that beautiful? He looked human, in fact, He probably looked Jewish. That is not, by the way, a racial slur. In the novel The Shack they made Him out to be quite a regular looking human being. This too got me to thinking. I honestly doubt He would have been some super model sort of man in appearance. He clothed Himself in humanity. That in my mind speaks of humility, so I believe He also asked for a humble (not ostentatious) appearance.

So my argument is this: Christ was probably a "regular joe." The crucifixion deformed Him. After the resurrection He stayed with a deformed appearance.

How does this affect our relationship with Him once we are in Heaven then? Honestly, I think it will only enhance the beauty of Heaven. It seems strange to think of something, or rather, someone ugly being in Heaven. Yet I think that understanding the cost of that ugliness will only make Him more beautiful. It will also, I believe, make us more grateful.

These arguments of mine are not important. They do not make or unmake my salvation, and, I hope, they will not make or unmake my friendships. But it is, I think, an interesting thought, worthy of consideration.

Eagle Heights or Fish Depths

God hears your prayers. He wants to hear your prayers. He cares enough for you to want to listen to you. He promises to hear you.

Therefore I will look to the Lord; I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me. – Micah 7:7

Look to Him. Put your eyes on Jesus. Look at Him in all the beauty of His ugliness. We caused that ugliness. Although that ugliness is incomparable so is the beauty beneath it. But talk with Him. He promises to hear you. No matter where you are in life, He’ll hear.

When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord; and my prayer went up to You, into Your holy temple. – Jonah 2:7

I bumped against this concept. Why was God remembered during a bad moment? Why not at a good moment? Well, perhaps it’s like this. I miss my Mom all the time. But the day I burnt myself in the kitchen she was the one person I wanted nearest. Why? Because she could comfort me and care for me and, I’ll admit it, coddle me. Yet I missed her all along and yet my missing her intensified at the bad moment. It’s a natural thing.

Jonah was in the bottom of a fish’s belly. So He prayed and God delivered Him. If you ever feel like you have hit bottom just call on His name. Perhaps you will feel physically exhausted with all the work you have to put up with. Or emotionally exhausted because of all the people. Or even spiritually exhausted. I don’t know. But I do know this. Wherever you are, even if it is a fish’s belly, God hears and answers your prayer.

But those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint. – Isaiah 40:31

So if you ever feel as if you’ve hit bottom and find yourself in a fish’s stomach go to Him. He promises you fresh strength. You can go from the fish’s belly to the eagle’s heights (sounds like a great sermon title…). Gladys Alward wrote, “The eagle that soars in the upper air does not worry itself how it is to cross rivers.”

God Lives in You

Get this – God is living inside of you! Wow! What a bizarre concept.

But will God indeed dwell with men on the earth? Behold, heaven and the heaven of heavens cannot contain You. How much less this temple which I have built. – II Chronicles 6:18

Third Day sing a question, “All the heavens cannot hold you Lord, how much less to dwell in me? I can only make my one desire holding on to thee.” Quite frankly I don’t like this song. Don’t agree with it either. Yet it does have a good point to get across. How is it possible to hold Him in our hearts when even the heavens cannot hold Him?

God cannot be defined. He cannot be put in a box. “Good definitions,” according to Weirsbe, “must set limits, but they must also leave room for expansion. It’s all right to put up walls so long as you include a door and a few windows.” Some, for example, have put God into such a nice little box that they’ve arrived at the adamant conclusion that He no longer performs miracles. I’d rather risk leaving Him that window open.

Solomon designed a magnificent temple and God filled it to overflowing and more. God made His own temple – our bodies – and put eternity in our hearts. God is so big that only eternity can hold Him. And so that “God-shaped vacuum” in our hearts is where our eternity lies. Or, as Pascal suggested, we have a thirst that remains unsatisfied unless satisfied in Him.

We must have our lives so filled with God’s presence that we are no longer necessary.

So that the priests could not continue ministering because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of the Lord. – I Kings 8:11

May this be the case in our own lives. Our bodies are now His temples. We must allow ourselves to be so filled – in every nook and cranny – that we overflow with His fragrance. Ian Matthews wrote, “Where God finds space, He enters.” So may He fill our hearts (those vast, wide, open spaces) to the brim so that when we spill He spills from our lips. We need to be filled with so much of Him that we are no longer ministering but rather that He is ministering through us.
Thus, as He ministers through us, we will flood the world with His glory.

For the earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea. – Habakkuk 2:14

Reminds me of the song Dive by Steven Curtis Chapman. “But we will never know the awesome power of the grace of God until we let ourselves get swept away into His holy flood.” I want to drown in the knowledge of His glory. Lewis wrote of beauty to say, “We do not want merely to see beauty, though, God knows, even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words – to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it.” (emphasis my own). I want to bathe, even drown, in the beautiful knowledge of His glory. This is not a merely intellectual knowledge. This is to know as Adam knew. Adam knew his wife and next thing you know she was pregnant. This is more than intellectual, this is an intimate knowledge. It is practical, but more so, it is relational. It has to do not with experimenting, but with experiencing. Although Lewis was referring to the physical beauty of women there is a beauty which is even greater. Woman was created last. God was saving the best for last. She is the crown of creation. And, as one of my favourite poets said, “Women. Whatever they ask of us we can do. If we can’t do it, it doesn’t exist. And if it doesn’t exist we’ll invent it for them.” But for all the beauty that they possess – all the beauty that even you possess (which is a lot) – there is only one who merits the term ‘sublime.’ That is the beauty of the glory of God. That is the beauty that fills us. And that is the beauty we need to drown in.

On Feeling Tired

The other day I went for a walk. It was a good day. All was well with the world. Well, at least in my world. I'd gotten up before my alarm clock could ring and a friend actually brought me coffee - while I was still in bed reading Faulkner. I got up, took care of myself and my room, and went to work. Although I had to work alone I got finished early and since they had an unexpected project for me I was able to work overtime as well which I didn't mind since it meant more numbers on my next paycheck. During my lunch break I ate a nice little salad and felt healthy about myself. Once I finished work I had a telephone conversation of over an hour with one of my best friends. Then I showered and started my walk.

As I said, I felt good. It was a good day. While walking I kept listening to Crunchy Granola Suite and other old classics. I felt great. My plan was to walk down to the supermarket and browse the aisles a bit before going to a restaurant and sitting down to some light dinner. What I really wanted was the restaurant atmosphere. I felt like writing. I'd taken paper and pen and planned on ordering coffee after my meal so I could get busy and write. It turned out I wasn't hungry. I honestly had no appetite whatsoever. Suddenly I realized that though I felt like writing I really had nothing to write about. It was then I realized I was tired.

Somehow, don't ask me how, my mind had changed gears. I went from feeling good to feeling tired. But it was a strange kind of tired. It wasn't your usual tired, as in physical exhaustion or sleepiness. It was worse. It was deep. It was something like boredom only deeper.

I was tired of it all, quite literally, all. I was tired of writing and it not coming out any good. I was tired of feeling inadequate. I was tired of feeling overweight and tired of promising to do something about it while never really fulfilling those promises. I was tired of wanting sex. I was tired of not having sex. I was tired of my fluctuating devotional life. I was tired of the repeated stories. I was tired of not having the spiritual disciplines I needed. I was tired of not knowing what to say or else not being able to say it. I was tired of feeling alone all the time. I was just tired.

So then I came back home, well, the closest thing to a home available to me right now. At home I settled down to some music (the depressing kind) and began to read. The story was How to Become a Writer by Lorrie Moore. It had some great lines in it. I'll share them now with you and I'll share them in the order in which I encountered them. Notice this, though, the last quotation will be the one most poignant to my situation. Still, read on, and enjoy.

"Decide that you like college life. In your dorm you meet many nice people. Some are smarter than you. And some, are dumber than you. You will continue, unfortunately, to view the world in exactly these terms for the rest of your life."

"The only happiness you have is writing something new, in the middle of the night, armpits damp, heart pounding, something no one has yet seen. You have only those brief, fragile, unrested moments of exhilaration when you know: you are a genius."

"Later on in life you will learn that writers are merely open, helpless texts with no real understanding of what they have written and therefore must half-believe anything and everything that is said of them."

"Insist you are not very interested in any one subject at all, that you are interested in the music of language, that you are interested in - in - syllables, because they are the atoms of poetry, the cells of the mind, the breath of the soul."

"You will read somewhere that all writing has to do with one's genitals. Don't dwell on this. It will make you nervous."

"You have broken up with your boyfriend. You now go out with men who, instead of whispering 'I love you,' shout, 'Do it to me, baby.' This is good for your writing."

"Suppose you threw a love affair and nobody came?"

"Occasionally a date with a face as a blank as a sheet of paper asks you whether writers often become discouraged. Say that sometimes they do and sometimes they do. Say it's a lot like having polio."

Yes, that's it. Sometimes I get discouraged and sometimes I do. This tiredness is discouraging. I don't know what to do. I mean, how exactly, does one go about casting all of one's cares on Christ? All of them? Really, I mean, all of them? It seems like a lot. It isn't really, I mean, I realize that in all honesty there aren't all that many cares haunting me right now (knock on wood). But what ones I do have seem foolish. Dare I say, pedantic? He doesn't want to be bothered with this petty trite foolishness, does He? What do I do? Do I go to Him and say, "Um, God, I'm feeling tired. It's like a strange mix of boredom and discouragement. I don't know, it might even be depression. Help me, please."

I'll be honest. During my walk I thought about suicide. Not about committing it, per se, but rather I just entertained the easiness of the notion. Elijah also thought about suicide. They say that he thought of it because he was scared. I can't really blame him. Jezabel was on his tail and so was the entire army. All out to kill him. So, yes, I guess that feeling afraid was part of it. But maybe it wasn't all of it. Maybe there was more. He was, after all, on the lam. He was an "escaped convict." A desperate fugitive hiding out in the desert. Maybe because of all that running he was tired. Maybe tiredness made him think of suicide. I don't know. I'm just thinking.

But thank God for those reassuring voices. Thank God for the small whispers he got later on. Now it's my turn. Now I have to get up and turn off the depressing music. I have to leave off these ridiculous short stories and open a Book with a better story. I need to sit up and pay attention. God is there. He wants to talk with me. He wants to comfort me. And I want to hear Him whisper.

Consecration

While burrowing through various files of poetry and trying to clean them out I came across this piece right here. I don't know who the author is but I believe it is titled Consecration.

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord
Real service is what I desire;
I'll say what you want me to say, dear Lord
But don't ask me to sing in the choir.

I'll say what you want me to say, dear Lord
I like to see things come to pass;
But don't ask me to teach boys and girls, dear Lord
I'd rather just stay in my class.

I'll do what you want me to do, dear Lord
I yearn for your Kingdom to thrive;
I'll give you my nickels and dimes, dear Lord
But please don't ask me to tithe

I'll go where you want me to go, dear Lord
I'll say what you want me to say;
I'm busy just now with myself, dear Lord
I'll help you some other day.

Filling Empty Hands

One by one he took them from me,
All the things I valued most,
Until I was empty-handed,
Every glittering toy was lost.

And I walked earths highway, grieving,
In my rags and poverty.
'Till I heard His voice inviting,
"Lift your empty hands to Me."

So I held my hands toward heaven,
And he filled them with a store.
Of His own transcendent riches,
'Till they could contain no more.

And at last I comprehended
With my stupid mind and dull,
That God could not pour His riches
Into hands already full.

By Martha Snell Nicholson

Free Love

They have invented a new phrase, a phrase that is a black and white contradiction – free love in two words – ‘free love’ – as if a lover ever had been, or ever could be, free. It is the nature of love to bind itself, and the institution of marriage merely paid the average man the compliment of taking him at his word.

It is on this note (by G. K. Chesterton) that society has therefore decided to override marriage and exalt that foolish ideal of ‘free love.’ The belief that love can be an ideal consisting of freedom is false, love does indeed have ‘strings attached.’ There is no escaping the reality that love, true love, implies commitment. And no mere commitment either, rather a commitment of an intense and unwavering nature.

Divorce has facilitated society for the indulgence of ‘free love’ and currently our society has simply disdained marriage. Marriage has been superceded by the one night stands of 'free love' and the relationships without commitment.

Christ, through the Scriptures, exemplified the intensity of love by carrying out His commitment to us even unto the cross. It is there that Love was nailed down and it is there that the display of Love is most beautifully manifested. In fact, it is from that example – His crucifixion – that society has received its model of how to love within a marriage. Ephesians tells us to “love as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her.” Paul, the author of Ephesians, in another of his letters (II Corinthians) tells us that he would rather “spend or be spent” for love of the saints. Paul sacrificed of himself to make an investment into the lives of others, thus offering a glimpse of the magnitude of his love unto others, how much more so then the love of Christ who sacrificed all of Himself to rescue us?

The Good, the Bad, and the Best

Everything in life must be approached with discernment.

We must, according to the Bible, examine it all and retain (keep) only what is good. Naturally that means that doesn’t mean all is permissive, yet not all is beneficial, as another text says (that’s a very dangerous crutch). There are things which we avoid (or abstain of) physically, that must involve our eyes, ears, and minds (plus all the rest). These things include murder, sexual immorality, lying, and everything else that falls into the general series of sins which Paul (and others) often present. Although it is true that many good (even great) books and songs and films contain such elements, often as pivotal to the plot, there are different “tones” (tactics) used by their employment. Even the Bible presents all of these sins, yet never does it condone them. I believe that we must live in the world, but not become a part of it. Someone once depicted this to me as the image of a boat which must be in water, but that the water must not be in the boat. We must be wise as serpents, yet harmless as doves. Discernment is vital in our sorting through all of these issues. It is a requisite in our examination, even our pre-examination (the examination of what we examine).

Life has often been divided into a war between good and evil. T.S. Eliot wrote of it to say, "The world turns and changes, but one thing does not change, in all of my years, one thing does not change, however you disguise it, this thing does not change: The perpetual struggle of good and evil." For the Christian however there is an even greater war. It is the war between what is good and what is better. As Christians we can, or should, completely nullify evil from our lives. So we are left to struggle between good and best. Everything settles into one of these three categories. I want to briefly define or give examples for each:

Best: This is the category in which everything is purposefully God-honouring. It includes, in other words, Christian literature, film, art, and music. The intent is often of superior virtue than the aesthetic quality (enjoyment) or philosophical structure (education). C.S. Lewis, for example, is of superior virtue in both of these themes; he is superb both aesthetically and philosophically. Yet there are plenty of other Christian authors (I’ll not name any) who cause suffering instead of enjoyment or instead of being philosophically sound they seem to be philosophically silly. Nevertheless they are writing for God’s glory and He will bless their efforts ("Virtue – even attempted virtue - brings light; indulgence brings fog." Lewis)

Good: This is the category which stimulates God-honouring thoughts. The original purpose was not to produce such stimulation and yet as Christians we must learn to view everything through a Christian filter. That means that the evil is banned as evil and the good exalted for its goodness. For example, in The Count of Monte Cristo Dumas uses the sin of revenge to produce repentance and thus a final (climatic) redemption follows. There are many art forms which contain elements of sin, the natural man cannot be divorced from his creation. On the other hand the very capacity that he has to create magnifies the image of divinity within man. This man can then, at times, transcend his animal form and become as a god producing, in "McGrewan" terms, a “secondary goodness.” Because of the sinful elements presented, or rather the philosophy and form (or tone) of their presentation, can be so very influential it is important to be discerning.

Bad: This is the category with which the Christian must never be associated. In this category fall, for example, the obscenity of satanic songs or pornographic films or things which seem to purposefully dishonour God.

Integrity

But they could find no charge or fault, because he was faithful; nor was there any error or fault found in him. – Daniel 6:4

Wow! This verse fascinates me. It's incredible! The Bible does not say this of very many men. In fact, I can only think of random instances (such as Job 1:8). To be able to lead such a life... Wow! That's quite a feat. That is genuine integrity right there. Daniel led a very public life. After all, he was involved in politics. Politics is certainly one of the most difficult arenas in which to remain whole. Integrity and politics are not often coupled. The awesome thing is they could only nail him in his private life. They had to cook up a whole diabolical scheme to manipulate the king into their plans.

My wish is that I may live a life of such integrity that if I am ever to be condemned of anything it is in my privacy, that is, my intimacy with God. Now, more than ever, I will be facing stress and the devil will take advantage of that to strain me so far that I might snap. Don’t! There will be people who will be watching. They will look at meand try to criticize me. Don’t let them. Keep yourself in integrity that way they will have nothing to complain of.

Thou Shalt Not Kill

I had grown weary of him; of his breath
And hands and features I was sick to death.
Each day I heard the same dull voice and tread;
I did not hate him: but I wished him dead.
And he must with his blank face fill my life –
Then my brain blackened, and I snatched a knife.

But ere I struck, my soul’s grey deserts through
A voice cried, “Know at least what thing you do.
This is a common man: knowest thou, O soul,
What his thing is? somewhere where seasons roll
There is some living thing for whom this man
Is as seven heavens girt into a span,
For some one soul you take the world away –
Now know you well your deed and purpose. Slay!”
Then I cast down the knife upon the ground
And saw that mean man for one moment crowned.
I turned and laughed: for there was no one by –
The man that I had sought to slay was I.

Gilbert Keith Chesterton is popularly known as the "Prince of Paradox." He wrote this poem and in it he surprises everyone with the twist at the end. The victim and perpetrator were one and the same. Often that is the case even with us, and just as often it would seem that we too are altogether oblivious of just how much we hate our own selves. There is, it would seem, a severe problem here. We, as Christians, are called to hate ourselves. Yes, even to slay ourselves. Yet although we do, at times, hate ourselves we never really kill ourselves off. If we did things would be a lot better, I'm sure. We hate ourselves on occasion, yet we love ourselves continually. This hatred that we are supposed to apply is not an abnegation (or is it abdication?) of the body. It is not a literal or physical hatred of self. It is a deeper hatred. One might say a more 'psychological' hatred. The poem is titled quite simply, Thou Shalt Not Kill.

A Friendly Reminder

Everyone wants to have friends, and as Christians we cleverly say that to have friends we must be friendly. Undoubtedly true, yet nonetheless a true friend, a real friend, is hard to find. He will not usually be hard to keep but he will be hard to find.

The character that wrote the letter in the recent Frankenstein post sought someone with similar taste. C. S. Lewis defined friendship as something that "arises out of mere Companionship, when two or more companions discover that they have in common some insight or interest or even taste which others do not share, and which, till that moment each believed to be his unique treasure (or burden)." (The Four Loves)

Friendship, true deep Friendship, is hard to find. Yet it is not so much a rarity, but rather a novelty. In another book Lewis wrote, "a man seldom mentions what he had supposed to be his most idiosyncratic sensations without receiving from at least one (often more) of those present the reply,'What! Have you felt that too? I always thought I was the only one." (Surprised by Joy) There are people out there just like you. In a very unique way you are just like everyone else.

A third look into the mind of Lewis produces, "Are not all lifelong friendships born at the moment when at last you meet another human being who has some inkling (but faint and uncertain even in the best) of that something which you were born desiring, and which, beneath the flux of other desires and in all the momentary silences between the louder passions, night and day, year by year, from childhood to old age, you are looking for, watching for?" (The Problem of Pain)

We are all looking for friends. We all want someone to identify with and be intimate with. They aren't really that rare. There are people like us. There is in fact One who offers to be closer than a brother. This Man is more like us than any other. He has experienced everything we have ever experienced and has practiced, even enjoyed, many of the practices we enjoy. He just never got involved with the bad stuff, and so He is there to help us get out of the bad stuff, even to overcome it all. He has been out looking for friends, in fact He not only went out seeking friends but He even went out to save (or rescue) friends. He wants to be our best friend and His name is Jesus.

If Jesus becomes our best Friend that doesn't mean it's over. We can have more than one friend. It's just that we can only have one best Friend. But we can have the 'next best friend.' Just as accepting Christ is the biggest decision we can ever make there is another very important decision to be made in life, actually the second greatest decision.

This second decision and 'other best friend' is the person you marry. They say that 'opposites attract' and it is, partly, true. But a relationship such as marriage although it may be sparked by attraction it is not founded upon it. According to one professor, conflicts do not come from God (He is a God of peace) therefore we must look for the coincidences because it is certainly better to enjoy the coincidences than to resolve the conflicts in a relationship. Plus with coincidences you will have a 'common' ground on which to stand and therefore build.