Where Christ evidenceth his presence with us, he gives us an infallible hope of glory; he gives us an assured pledge of it, and worketh our souls into an expectation of it. Hope in general is but an uncertain expectation of a future good which we desire; but as it is a gospel grace, all uncertainty is removed from it, which would hinder us of the advantage intended in it. It is an earnest expectation, proceeding from faith, trust, and confidence, accompanied with longing desires of enjoyment.
-John Owen, Vol. 7, page 321
All The Strings
A lovely morning thus far. About to drive off to church, but grateful for a few minutes now to meditate and muse on what most brings me hope and joy. This morning woke up and went for a walk, enjoying(??) the humidity and heat that is standard fare for August here. Still yet, it was a beautiful time of walking and thinking and watching all the people on their early morning runs and dog-walks. Got to chat with Dad for a few minutes on the return leg and then back I arrived at home, sweaty and pleasantly weary. Now I’m all showered up and have had a lovely few minutes reading as a new candle burns and a symphony plays on the TV. Within twenty minutes or so, shall step out the door and once more feel August’s warm affections as we leave for church. But now? Why am I just spinning my wheels talking about the mundanities of life? Well firstly because even the mundane every day tasks of life can be beautiful, can they not? I’m grateful for what my God has given me, even little things like walks and showers. Secondly? Because I do want to talk about deeper things but sometimes I feel I must approach them circumspectly as I’m at times uneasy of my skill to properly address that which matters most.
So now as the minutes flee and I soon will run out of time, I suppose I won’t say much more about what burns in my heart, except to say that I enjoyed some precious minutes reading in John today, some of my favourite verses. Reading about the trial and death of Jesus and then the response of some of his followers. Peter initially quavered and crumbled and denied his teacher. Others stood by him to the end even as they wept. Still others who had hidden their allegiance came out after his death to preserve and memorialize his body and his name. And then on that glorious day whose memory still reverberates in the heavens and the earth? Peter returned to his Lord and marveled at the fact that something had happened that he didn’t quite understand. John approached more cautiously but still yet he was there. And Mary? Oh Mary she was there at the beginning and at the end, as the men rushed around and in their haste rushed off again while she stayed behind at that garden tomb and wept and thought and I’m sure prayed. And then she saw something miraculous – angelic beings in all their brightness and she found herself overcome and in her sorrow and her wonder she heard a voice that said her name. And what response did she have? What response should any of have in such a circumstance? She rushed to Jesus and clung to Him, crying as she held on tight. Oh how I wish I could cling to the feet of Jesus and hear him speak to me as he spoke to Mary that day. Some day, some day soon. Even though I have not seen him, I believe in Him and joy unspeakable fills my heart and I glory in the fact that someday my eyes shall see his face.
Coals
I am writing to you, little children, because your sins have been forgiven you on account of His name. I am writing to you, fathers, because you know Him who has been from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one. I have written to you, children, because you know the Father. I have written to you, fathers, because you know Him who has been from the beginning. I have written to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God remains in you, and you have overcome the evil one.
-1 John 2:12-14
Oracle
Hello friends! A quick few words this Sunday afternoon before I dive into my evening reading (shall be some sort of combination of Owen, Bonhoeffer & Rowling – yes, a bit of an oddball mix, I’m well aware). Anyway, thought I’d write a few words on my viewing of the Odyssey yesterday. This movie came out a few weeks back and the discussion and furor around it has been fascinating to witness. Even today, had some conversations at church about it and been texting with Robbie about it and well…it’s one of those movies that sticks with you just a bit, for various reasons. I shan’t go into a full feature-length review, but I will make a couple comments. Firstly, I greatly enjoyed the film. Nolan almost never lets me down, and he didn’t here. He knows how to make a great movie. This 3-hour plus movie never left me bored or checking my watch and I was on the edge of my seat for almost the entire run-time, despite the fact that I very much know the story. Nolan is a master of tension and he used his skills to the utmost here. The acting was superb and the character work strong. Was this a perfect movie? By no means, but I enjoyed it. Did Nolan take some significant liberties with source material? But of course, yet are not most re-tellings of ancient stories and myths more a reflection on their own times and mores? I felt this movie was such here, reflecting on the story of the Odyssey in a very modern fashion and most certainly importing an ethical framework and understanding that is not present in the original work. If anything, it speaks well to Tom Holland (not that Tom Holland!)’s thesis on the impact of Christianity on western civilization.
Now I’m rambling on and I said I will be brief. Just wanted to write a few words on one of my favourite parts of movie and one which resonated with my soul. I very much doubt this was an intentional writing on Nolan’s part, but I very much saw the return of Odysseus to Ithaca as analogous to the coming return of Jesus Christ. Really? Yes, really. We have a kingdom in a state of disarray, trampled on and violated by those who seek kingship for themselves. We have a faithful few who long for the return of the true king. We have a pleading longing in the hearts of those who wait and yes, even doubt at times. How long? How long until the return of the king? And then, he comes. And the same sound that provokes terror in the hearts of the unrighteous causes the hearts of the faithful to leap for joy. The moment that thrilled my heart was the moment that Nolan has been building up to. Odysseus-as-a-beggar finally strings the great bow. And then, as he does, he strums the bowstring. A note rises. Penelope starts in joyous anticipation. The suitors wail as the wrath of Odysseus begins to fall upon them. The king is here in our very midst. That moment for me, that strumming of the bowstring and the reaction of Penelope and the suitors, was my favourite part of this film. Yes, I also maybe teared up a bit when Odysseus was reunited to Argos and later to Penelope. Odysseus and Penelope being reunited was probably my second favourite moment of this film. But returning to the strumming of that bowstring. It made me think on that for which my soul longs. I long one day to see Christ return in all his glory. I long to be with my Lord. And I think of that one sound that will be joy to the righteous and terror to the unrighteous. I think of the song of that last trumpet and of the joy that will fill the hearts of those who have been faithful to our Lord Jesus Christ. And I bow my head and think with sadness of those for who that trumpet call will be as the sound of death, heralding only righteous wrath and terrible woe. Oh how terrible it will be at that moment for those who hold empty lamps and wear garments of their own devising.
So I have said more on this film than I planned and I’m sure I’ve imparted a bit of my own philosophy into my reading of this movie. Yet still, I’m grateful for movies such as this, that make me think on deeper things and turn my eyes to thoughts of beauty and glory. Nolan fumbled a bit on the ending of this movie – I really wish he had ended it with Odysseus taking his rightful place as king of Ithaca and fade to black. Instead he furnishes Odysseus with a quest of further penance. Ah well. No one’s perfect. I will just meditate now though on what it means to be a faithful servant of my Lord and look for his return in glory. How long, oh Lord? How long?
Bricklayer
The ocean sings to me this night. I sit on the porch and watch the moonlight play over the face of the waters. The waves bob and swell and crash unceasing. Their music is soothing my pain. I reach to the side and pick up the glass from the table and take a sip. The cold liquid feels good going down my throat and I am grateful for small blessings. I lean back in my chair, pulling up my legs and curling into a smaller ball. I pull my hoodie up and feel a bit like a bird fluffing its feathers in preparation for the storm to come. But no storm here. Not yet. I take another sip of the drink beside me. Perhaps I shall read just a few minutes out here after all. The light of the moon is enough to read by, I think. Beautiful words tripping across the page will be good for my soul. The song of the sea in my ears and I feel an aching longing in my soul. Perhaps tonight I will feel peace. Perhaps tonight I shall feel that love as I dwell on that for which my heart longs. I think I hear the call of the heavens. Or is that only the far away cry of a bird wheeling across the face of the moon?
That Ditch Way Over There
Hello friends! A quick few minutes here before Dani and I are off to do some errands. First thought I’d write a little review on my latest read!
57. Plainsong by Kent Haruf. A beautifully written book. Poignant and sharp, this book does not pull any punches. The prose is simple but perfect, the character work is extremely strong and I found the story oh so gripping, even in its sparseness. I’ll confess there were a few scenes in this one I found challenging (one of those “gritty” books that I’d probably not recommend to everyone), and there was one scene I almost couldn’t make it through. Yet I did enjoy this one. Not all of the characters are likeable and none of the characters are perfect yet they felt ever so real. I wish I had this author’s talent at simply telling a story. I admired the fact he didn’t feel the need to over-explain or put to page every little detail. Instead, he let the story unfurl itself and you really did feel almost as if you were there, witnessing these people live their lives. My favourite characters were probably the McPheron brothers (almost certainly) and they had one scene at the end that almost caused me to break out in cheers. Again, this isn’t a perfect book and not exactly my type of book, yet still I greatly admired this one for what it achieved. I admire a story well told.
Grace
Hello friends! A few quick words this Thursday morning before I dash off to the land of work. It’s not quite 6am though, so I do have a few minutes and I’m grateful for the time to sit and read and meditate as I sip on my coffee here.
What have I been thinking about? The mind whirls with all that modern life seemingly demands. The earth groans and weeps, the daily news is full of horror and it seems as if civilization itself is on the brink. What are we to do? Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die. Let us satisfy ourselves with whatever we can find about us. Not much hope in the morrow, so let’s enjoy today. Either we drown ourselves in the sorrows and anxieties of this present life or we drown ourselves with the distractions that take us far from it. Either option works, depending on your predilection and temperament. Yet are those really the only two options? Not if we consider our underlying assumptions and correct the framework from which we see life itself. If this world is all there is and there is no life beyond the veil and no Creator to consider, perhaps it matters not what we do now. Make a choice and stick to it. Do your thing. Eat, love, laugh. You only live once. You know the drill. Yet.
As you’ve noticed, I’ve tilted the argument one way, prepared to springboard into what I do believe is true. What if there is a beyond? What if there is a quivering reality waiting beyond the fog of this present life? I’m not saying that this present life is any less real or that we should go seclude ourselves in preparation for a life to come. May it never be – this life is real and there are many wonderful things in it, things that are good and proper to enjoy. Yet. If we have a future hope, perhaps consider such? If we are not alone after all, if there is a God who made all things and desires communion with us, should we so quickly and easily turn our backs on that which we do not fully understand?
This God I believe in is one in whom I’ve put my trust and one who I believe is fully and utterly real in a way that we do not and perhaps never can truly understand. Yet I believe this same God came down to this earth as a man and condescended such so that we might know him truly. This man? Jesus Christ. Yes, of course I’ve been leading to this point the entire time. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy, my song and my salvation, the only way to God for He is God and is in Himself the fulfillment of all things. Now creation’s groans turn to song as the stars themselves shout for joy for the One who came to begin the process of renewal and reformation.
I turn to Jesus and fill my mind with thoughts of Him. I dwell on the truths of the historical reality of His coming to this earth and dying that I might live. I think on my sufferings and then I turn my thoughts and think on His. Jesus is beautiful to Me. I consider Jesus and the fact that He in Himself is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of the nature of God and upholds all things by the power of God and even so He has made purification for my sins so that I might be made right for God. I consider Jesus and my heart aches to be near Him. I think on my life now and count it loss and turn and follow Jesus.
I want to be where Jesus is. I serve and follow Jesus and look for the day when I gaze upon His face in glory. Jesus Christ is my hope and joy. What do I have in this life that compares? May all the little joys and pleasures of this world remind me of the joy that one day shall be mine as I sit and feast in the presence of Christ. May all the little pains and sufferings of this life remind me of the love that one day shall be mine as I sit at the feet of Jesus and cling to Him forever.
Ruminations
I am grateful to be writing these words. I am grateful to be known. Sometimes I despair at being truly great or noble or a creator of the beautiful but then I take a deep breath and look to the heavens and whisper a prayer of thanks that I don’t have to be any of those things. And in truth, most likely far better for myself that I am not in that maelstrom of the great. Who wants to be great, anyway? Mostly just a lot of unnecessary bother. Still I am sad because I want to create something beautiful for I see the beauty that surrounds me and it causes my heart to skip a beat and my hand to tremble and I ache for the thrill that runs through my heart. Still yet? I am grateful to be known. And I am grateful to be writing these words.
fifth row baptists
Hello friends! A sleepy Sunday post is in order, methinks. And as matter of fact, I think this post shall be mostly just me rambling about books. Because of aforesaid mentioned sleepiness, I don’t think this shall be a long post. But as always, we shall see! Be well, one and all.
53. Thank You, Jeeves by PG Wodehouse. Absolutely fantastic. I have heard of Wodehouse and the Jeeves stories before, of course. I knew they were a part of the British literary canon that I was remiss in reading and that I would need to remedy such at some point. Thankfully, due to a fortuitous encounter in a remarkably well-stocked book section at a Goodwill, I decided it was time to read my first Wodehouse and this was it. I was not disappointed. The humour was top notch. Of course humour is subjective and I’m sure some would bounce off Wodehouse. For me though? Perfection. I wish I had half the wit and verve of Wodehouse – I’d read line after line of writing that simply crackled with absurd hilarity and wonder how on earth he managed it. If you like absurd off-the-wall ridiculousness married with near-perfect prose, I think you’d enjoy this. I know I did.
54. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul – A book that grabs you by the collar and simply won’t let go. I’ve read this once, many years before, and I recall how much this one gripped and shook me. Reading it again now, I marveled anew at the holiness, grandeur and glory of God. I am grateful for this book of Sproul’s, one that does not apologize for the God of the Bible, the God who is proclaimed in all its pages and of whom creation shouts in chorus. Sproul is unapologetic in ascribing a place to God that is far separate from the place reserved for the rest of creation. This book feels at times as if it was written in a time so different from our own, a time when the other-ness of God was not as alien a concept as it seems to be in this age in which we now live. Of course this book wasn’t written that long ago – 1985 – still yet it seems as if the God Sproul preaches would be anathema to the majority of so-called Christian teachers in this day and age.
We at times seem to spend all our time crafting a God that fits our idea of goodness, justice and love – a God that we feel comfortable with and whose ideals mirror our own. This is idolatry, pure and simple, and Sproul calls that out. He doesn’t quite wade into all the depths of ontology and epistemology, yet Sproul does ask that we cease from demanding that God can only be God if he fits our pre-conceived notions of what God ought to be. How often have we heard or uttered the phrase – “I could never worship a God who…” Instead of screaming our rights into the void, perhaps we ought ask the question – Is God real? And if so, who is He? And what is my response? This is spadework and not always comfortable. And I’m not saying Sproul is hand-holding us through this journey. Instead, Sproul simply and faithfully discusses the God of the Bible, the God as revealed in both specific and general revelation, and explains who this God is and why he is worthy of our worship.
At the end of the day, the way we live our life is governed by who we see God to be and who we see ourselves to be. And Sproul clearly and concisely draws back the curtain and shows us the tiniest of glimpses of the reality of the God who made all things. Sproul is just a man and all too fallible and so of course this book is not perfect. Yet it is one that drove me to my knees as I consider what it is that I live and breathe in a world made by a God so utterly holy that to gaze upon Him would utterly undo me. Who am I, a jar of clay and oh so foul and depraved? And yet also am I not one crafted in the image of this God I long to know? There’s a mystery there – how can I be made right and gain communion with this God who seems so far from me? Has God spoken to us and given us a way to be right with Him? The name that is above every name is spoken by my heart and I tremble. I raise my hands and drop any claims I have and bow the knee to the One who made all things. This book is one that I need to read again and again. God is God and I am not. Remember this. Remember this.
55. What Does It Mean to Fear the Lord? by Michael Reeves. A wonderful little pamphlet walking us through the concept of the “fear of the Lord”. This can be very confusing, to be sure. I’ve had conversations with people who refuse to believe that Christians should “fear the Lord”. And part of that is likely due to the inability of the English language to properly define this concept, this idea of trembling joy and awe and love that comes face to face with understanding who God is and what our proper response to Him is. This is a very little book, but Reeves does a masterful job of walking through what fear of God is, and what it isn’t. The fear of the Lord is not a cringing fear that drives us from God in our hatred of who he is. Instead, the proper fear of the Lord is a recognition of the nature of God and the proper response of humility and love that draws us closer to our God. I feel this is a ongoing thread in my reading of late but I shall state it again. God is God and I am not. Let us remember that, and as we understand ever more who God truly is, our fear of Him will be that fear which spurs on a delighted awe and love as we humbly bow before our Creator. A great little read, heartily recommended.
56. Theo of Golden by Allen Levi. This book frustrated me at times. There are some beautiful little moments and I greatly admired the themes of the author and what he attempted to point towards. It is rare to find a modern book which preaches such themes of Christian love and humility and it made me glad to see such praised in this book. There is also such a wonderful focus on the worth of every person and the idea that all of us have a story that is worth knowing. I was under the impression this was a secular book and was pleasantly surprised discovering the Christian themes that lay at this book’s core, even identifying Theo as a little Christ-figure and one who attempts to point us to that light, that fountain, that Jesus that is the only source of life and truth. Yet. Apart from all that, this book was a hard read at times. I admire the author’s aims, but the book wasn’t always an easy read, at times overly twee, at times overly artificial and manufactured. This felt like a book with too many cardboard cutouts, not enough real people. I often found myself struggling to make myself read a few more chapters. And the major revelation at the end of this book does some major damage to the book’s theme of selfless love for the other and make one wonder if the author truly realize that his attempts to tie up all loose ends into a tidy knot actually undercut some of the strongest themes of his tale. Ah well. I enjoyed parts of this book. Unfortunately the book wasn’t particularly well-written and I think at times the author spends too much time telling, not enough time showing. Maybe some people like the didactic hammering on the head. For me, not so much, even when I tend to agree with the author’s belief system. Main problem at the end of the day? The author’s skill was not quite up to snuff to tell the story he was attempting to tell. Still though, I admire the attempt.
Worship
The sky lightens. There is music in the air. The trees quiver in anticipation and the woman raises her face to the eastern sky in silent prayer. It is good to meditate on what has come and it is good to look forward to that which shall be. Even so all the more, it is good to with trepidation step across the grass towards the dunes that rise. The woman trembles at the slight chill she feels this early morning. Soon enough, the sun shall dispel the cold and she will shed her jacket to feel the warmth upon her skin. But for now? She hugs herself and continues to think on the blessings that are hers. What a gift this morning is!
No sound but the song of gulls and gentle crash of waves. No duties but gratitude and singing the lines her heart aches to say. No fear but that holy awe which thrills her bones as she considers the love which overwhelms her frame. She now sits upon the sand with her knees drawn up to her face and she over and over again whispers praises to the Name. Glory be to God the Father, glory be to God the Son, glory be to God the Spirit, praises praises to God the Three in One. What a joy it is to worship this day in this cathedral divinely made. Yes no better place to worship than this plot of holy ground, floors of rich sand and ever moving waters and arched ceilings of whirled oranges and purples, pillars of cloud and flame. It is good to be here in this place. The woman sings the doxology once more. Her face glows with holy fire.
