I walk down the lamplit path and wonder what lies at its end. For all I know, the promises that I have clung to will in fact crumble to dust in the light that a closer perspective sheds. We shall see shall we not. But I refuse to give in to fear. I know that my boots are faded and starting to fall apart now. I know that my hair is a bit more faded and sparser than when this path my feet began to walk. Yet there is still a wonder that burns in my heart and there is still a faint taste of cinnamon on my tongue that reminds me of when I sipped the wine back at the last waystation. I hold fast to these signs that point me back to what I have believed in and forward to what lies at journey’s end. I know that the hand that picked me out of the mire that I played in so many years ago is still yet upon me, though at times the pressure seems faint and the shadows play havoc with my sight. These are the times I hum to myself songs of promise and in the darkness those hallowed lines recite. For even now in the darkness I look to my feet and see a light. I am thankful that I do not need to trust in mine own wit or valor for the aid by which I hasten on. Instead I trust in another. And this other has proven to be a trusty companion time and time again. What more can I say now? I walk forward, step by slow step my feet fall heavily upon this cobbled path. My progress is measured more slowly now, yet when I read my old notebooks I’m reminded of how much my voice has become more true. It’s a wonder, divine miracle really. I lift my voice once more in song. And as I begin to sing my favourite, I hear the voices of others join in soon enough. Thank God I am not alone on this pilgrim way. Let’s hurry on now, my brothers and my sisters. Let’s continue to faithful be. See this path does not go on forever, though so often it seems as if that may be the case. There is an ending, a slow descent when the cobbles turn to sand and the path turns down to the river that runs so merrily. I cannot promise the crossing will be entirely pleasant. It is not always. Yet look and see! On the other side, see the mountain that rises in poignant counter-harmony. I do not see it yet with these eyes but I know it’s there from what I’ve read in these manuscripts that I hold so dear. I do so long to see it but not for the grandeur of its created frame. Rather I hope to see the one walking down its slopes to meet me, the one who found me when I was alone and crying, the one who grabbed my hand and pulled me up to walk this pilgrim way. This is what I long for, to hear his voice gently call me in the way shepherds call their sheep. I will answer as I answer every day now. My Lord my Jesus be near to me. And forever and always will I be.
Tag: faith
Reclamation
Hello friends! It’s a Sunday afternoon and I am here sitting on the porch of EQ wondering what I shall write. Is it 2022? Well perhaps not. But I do sit here now and reflect how fascinating it is looking back through the years and realizing how many hours I’ve spent in various places (like this coffeeshop!) and how I’ve changed and grown as my God has continued to work mightily in me. Sometimes I forget such and can only see the parts of me that seem to sit stagnant and still in the light of the fall. Yet it is good to sit back and reflect and look at my life as a whole and glorify my God as I realize that I am not the same man I was even a year ago! Praise be to God for his glorious grace and the many mercies he’s poured out upon me, his undeserving child! Sometimes I look at my outward circumstances and meditate on how they may or may not have changed. Same job, check. Same (close enough) living situation. Same attire (Pascal’s t-shirt, yup!) But then I look to my right and see Dani and my heart smiles and my eyes fill. Some things are not quite the same after all.
It is all too easy to let our hearts linger over those things that bring us anxiety and pain. And we cannot deny that there is sadness and suffering in this world and even in my heart, a reality that I am all too familiar with. But does the existence of such mean there is not also beauty, that perfection is necessarily impossible in this existence in which we find our minds moving? I would say not, though there are philosophical frameworks which would assert such. Instead, I would point out that the presence of an ill thing does not imply the impossibility of a good. Instead, the very fact that we recognize something as wrong means that in our frame of knowledge we seem to believe in the possibility of something being right. But what is true? That is a good question, one which it would do one good to ponder. I believe truth is not entirely relative, that though we may be shaped and formed by the environment and the historical moment in which we now exist, still yet there are solid realities that are firmer beneath our feet than we sometimes dare to think. This world is not all shadow and dust, though there is plenty of both. Instead, I look for the glimmer of that true light that I catch at the corner of my eye. I long to rest my hand upon an oaken pillar that testifies to roots deeper than these eyes can see. What is truth? That is a good question. As for me, I believe in the existence of a God who has revealed himself to us in a written word that has been passed down these many centuries. Some would call me foolish, some would call me fraud. I simply rest in that settled conviction that within me rests the spirit of God who has in actuality changed my heart and called me to be known and loved. I do believe that not that many years ago (as we count time) God himself walked upon this earth and spoke true words and then died so that I might be no longer blind but see. My eyes do not see as far as I would like at times. But no longer do I grope forward through the clammy fog of sneering unbelief. I bow my knees and look to heaven and with tears on my face I sing praises to my God who knows my name.
Ulysses
For this past week I have been working to find the time and space to write a few words on the concert I was at last week, yet I couldn’t summon up the time and appropriate energy to do it justice. I fear I still will not be able to, yet I don’t want to wait any longer lest my memory begin to dim! I haven’t been to as many concerts this year as in years past, which I suppose makes sense as my time and appetite for such have diminished as I refocus my energies elsewhere. Sometimes this saddens me a bit, but then I consider all the concerts I’ve been to that really are not all that worth it. Well, this past Sunday? I went to a show that reminded me why I love live music and why going to the right show is 1000% worth it. Josh Garrels, hello.
I have been listening to songs by Josh Garrels for close to ten or eleven years now, I believe? Shoutout to Daniel from back in the Bethel days, for introducing me to whom I now believe is one of the greatest and most encouraging artists of our generation. Even back in 2014-2015, I remember listening to some of his songs and feeling the tears fill my eyes as I consider what it means to be a son of God and to be welcome at His table. Being loved and welcomed by God is a theme that is fairly pounded home in many of his songs but not in a way that feels forced or unwarranted by the stories woven throughout Josh Garrels’ discography. Even these past few years, though not much new songs of his have been released, the songs he has released (Anchor of my Soul & Watchman in particular!) have been received by me with much joy as they’ve aided in my ever seeking to know Christ more and press into this abundant life that we have been welcomed into. So! That all to say I was excited to see him in concert, but also not really sure what to expect. I went alone and figured it would be encouraging (partly why Dani said I needed to go, once I told her I knew it would be an encouraging night for me!). So go I did. Met a few people before the show and had some good conversation. Then I found a seat on the front row of the balcony – yes I now much appreciate a concert while sitting down, what have I become – and settled in to enjoy the show.
After a fun opening act, Josh Garrels came to the stage and quickly I discovered this wasn’t simply to be a show. Rather, it felt almost more like a church service at times. Singing and preaching abounded! The songs were poignant and beautiful and brought emotions close to surface as I considered the love that is mine in knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. He started with “At the Table” and proceeded to play most of my favourite songs. Amazing set list. He played of course the classics – Ulysses, Farther Along, etc – but also some of my newer favourites like Steadfast and Watchman!
But honestly? As much as I loved the songs and rediscovered how amazing a good live show can be, I was almost more encouraged and my heart made full by listening to Josh bare his heart and soul between songs. At times it almost seemed as if Josh Garrels spoke as a prophet, exhorting us as Christians and believers in Christ to press in to what it means to be living in the here and now in the love of God, fully understanding and aware of the height and depths and breadth of the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord! Too often do we live as Christians in a way which almost seems to indicate that we believe all the lies this secular and faithless world attempt to persuade us are the truth. Too often do we live almost as if we don’t believe God works in this world at all. Do we actually believe that God still yet works mighty acts in this world in which we live? Do we actually believe that God came and walked upon this earth and died for us and rose again for our victory in Him, inaugurating a kingdom through his blood, a kingdom that shall know no end? Do we live in this present age understanding the power of the Spirit who lives within us, the Comforter promised and sent and resting upon our brow as holy oil anointing us as blessed ones? Do we live now walking forth each day in the triumphant and faith-filled joy that comes from being oh so aware that we are children of God? Josh Garrels talked much on such things, and on more besides and I dare say I can’t do his words justice now. But oh how wonderful it was to hear this humble man of God sing his heart out and then talk of the mercies and wonders of our Lord and point to God in whom is all our hope and joy.
I’m grateful for such a man whom God has blessed and given such creative talent. Still more? I’m grateful to hear the testimony of a man who knows that he’s washed and saved by the blood of Christ and ever dependent on Him every day for this life he lives. I’m grateful to be a part of the body of Christ and know that there are thousands of brothers and sisters who praise the God in whom I trust and that we all someday will be worshipping together before the throne. And even I walk and sing, recognizing that each day upon this earth is a day my God has given me. I thank God for the days he gives me now to serve his name and be faithful and wait for the upward call. I thank my Father for the knowledge that he has through His Spirit given me, that in my Jesus is my all in all. I long to see my Saviour’s face.
Oh Canada!
A few thoughts on a few books this lovely November evening.
70. The Imitation of Christ by Thomas à Kempis. Oh what do I say about this one! Parts of this book thrilled my soul and enlivened my heart to beat heavenward as I considered the love of Christ and all that is mine in Him. Yet still there were parts of this book that irked me. All in all, I am certainly glad I read this one. It is a classic devotional work for a reason and I’ve had it on my shelf unfinished for a good while now. So finally I took it down and began reading, a few pages every morning during my devotions time. I think this served it well, as an aid and stimulus to my meditating on the things of Christ and what it means to be a child of God. There were so many encouraging lines and passages and moments where my heart leaped as I pressed in on what it is to know Christ more. Particularly Book 2 was fantastic, by far the stand-out section of this book. What I loved the most about this book was the focus it demands we place on our honor and devotion to God and what it means to sacrifice all to Him, placing Him before us and humbling ourselves before Him. It’s a well needed counter to the ethos of the day, in which we tend to place ourselves before all else and consider our needs of greater importance. This book simply breathes humility and it does my heart good to meditate on what it means to be truly humble before God and man. I did also mention parts of this book that annoyed me, and I suppose that comes with the territory of reading the work of a 15th-century monastic. There are doctrinal quibbles I have (such as with most of Book 4 covering Communion & the Eucharist, where I have some profound disagreements with the Roman understanding of the aforesaid sacrament) as well as some annoyances at the stylistic tendences in Book 3 (particularly as regards the “dialogue” between the Learner and the Beloved (Christ). I tend to tread carefully when I see words put in the mouth of Christ (even if I’m not always consistent on such), and it bothered me a bit to see so much of that here). There are other Roman doctrines which are seen here and there that I found myself shaking my head at, but I will not go any further to detail them here. Still yet? This book was encouraging to me and did indeed stimulate my heart to consider more what it means to devote one to the Lord and to follow Him all of our days. I would urge discernment if one reads it, understanding that not every word in this book may be necessarily true (as is a helpful reminder when reading any book by human author). But I’m grateful to read a book that puts us in our proper place and gives God the glory and honour that is his due! I’m grateful to read a book that encourages us in humility and Christian service. I’m grateful to read a book that makes me think more about Christ and who He is and what He has done for me.
71. Rilla of Ingleside by L.M. Montgomery. A profoundly emotional book. One that fairly gushes with the pathos that still throbbed in the author’s heart only a bare few years after the Great War had ended, this book makes it seem as the author is still processing such, using this book to heal and understand. There is much in this book that to us now may seem slightly jingoistic or overly sentimental in nature, yet I’d argue it gives us a peek into the past, a window into what the people of the day thought about this great war that still shocks us to this day with the horrors it contained. All in all, I loved reading this one. That may surprise you, as it is a sad work. Yet? This book deals with these sad themes of separation and death and loss with the gravity that is appropriate yet also shows how the characters deal with such and move forwards while still remembering what lay behind. Montgomery does not take this subject and deal tritely with it and attempt to make light of this war. If anything she almost goes too far the other way in attempting to describe this war as the pivot point of human existence! But can she be blamed? I think not. I won’t talk more about this book other than to say it’s well worth the read, one of the best books in the Anne series (not the best, can’t say that about a book where Anne isn’t front and center!). Rilla is no Anne, but she’s still pretty great.
Beyond the Point
At times it is tempting to slip into the same habits that you fit into so well yesterday and exclaim as you look in the mirror – it’s a new me! When it is of course true that in fact you are wearing something that is quite well used and perhaps even adorned with a new stain or two. Such it is when we get a bit too comfortable with patterns in our life that are not quite advantageous for the life that we so eagerly proclaim we wish for. But this is normal. Most of us have our blind spots and most of us have those hidden reefs that cause peril when we are not carefully navigating by those precious charts we should be more closely paying attention to. Is that not why we ought live with others who can see us as we are and point out those moments when we slip and stumble and laughing through our tears exclaim that we’re all right and say no perhaps not. Perhaps you’re not alright. And that’s alright. Or it’s not, but yet it is, for we walk not alone. Instead we walk through these valleys together looking to the west towards setting sun and though eagerly we look for the next way stop, we still sigh a bit knowing it’s not home.
And so if you have muddled through these mixed metaphors and deciphered anything of use therein, then I am grateful. But really I just want to speak plainly now and state how good it is that we need not live this life in solitary fashion. Of course it’s fashionable to proclaim oneself as self sufficient and capable and independent in all things. But alone we tend to wither and finally crack under the pressure of the burdens of this life. We need each other for we were not designed to live a life in which there was no communion with any other soul. We need a helper or a friend. We need someone with whom we can steadily share eye contact and it not be weird. We need someone to lift us up from life’s muddles when we veer a bit off track. And yet.
This need for a person beyond our own self existence points to a deeper truth that within us speaks to a void that cries out to be filled. What can fill this seemingly infinite hollow that nothing on this earth can fill? There goes that classic question which of course you know the answer to. If nothing on this earth can satisfy that longing in our soul it must mean we need look elsewhere beyond the setting sun. Even your closest companion or partner is not sufficient to satisfy that existential longing, is that not true? Eternity beckons. My heart aches with the knowledge that I was made for more than this finite life. All the history and poetry and philosophy I read testify in a thousand voices that in myself I’m missing something and there is nothing in the created order that can make me whole. Yet there is a voice calling, calling me to come. I know that voice. Do you hear it too?
Seven
There are mornings that my very soul could sing for delight. This is one such. I am oh so grateful for small pleasures that my God has granted me. This morning, a leisurely lie-in and I didn’t have to leave my bed until after the sun peeked over the horizon and through our window shades. Oh bliss! Following that, a nice hot shower while the water boils in preparation for one of the most important ingredients for a good morning. Coffee. Of course it’s coffee. I was then able to meditatively take part in one of my favourite little rituals and make my aeropress coffee. As I waited for the coffee, a few minutes on the phone with Dad and then I prepared for the remainder of my morning before church time. TV on! But not for what you think – no TV programming or shows. Merely…switch on the youtube and find a suitable musical accompaniment for the day. Hilary Hahn playing Tchaikovsky? Yes please. Let me turn the lamp on next to my armchair and settle in with my Bible and books at hand. A while later, much had been read and much music enjoyed and the strong hot coffee enlivened my body while the readings that I had been walking through did their part in enlivening my soul. Surely I rejoice in the ministries of the Spirit this day. Perhaps I have talked too much of vain things at times. Even now, I name all these little pleasures and routines that are mine with perhaps too much joy. But are these simple things not still beautiful? I say so. And now it is time to go and worship with the people of the Lord. My brother and my sister, come with me. It is good for us to be here and rejoice in the lovingkindess of our Lord.
And Books Were Opened
he picked up the book and flipped to the page
he knew most well
it had been held open at that spot many times
and this time no less did upon reading those lines
he had long ago memorized
his eyes began to fill
and as his eyes caressed those words
his thoughts flew to higher planes
and he thought of what it would be to those words one day hear
sometimes he doubted sometimes he feared
that he never would
yet he knew those for lies and said begone!
and recited the promises and verse
and clung to the truth he knew
that what he sought was not due to him for his worth
rather it was what another had done for him so long ago
as he spoke and bled and died upon this very earth
he knew it was because of what was done that day
in a real and literal fashion marked down in ink and blood
that he had a home built for him
a home built in a country far away yet now even his
so pilgrim boy he walked and walked rejoicing in the already
and looking forward for the not yet but soon to come
for the kingdom he sought was already blossoming within
and the sealed sign was his
as he abided in that life that had been so dearly bought
one with God and one with brothers and sisters alongside
and so that pilgrim trail he walked not alone
but ever onward he trod and trod
rejoicing in the joys of someday home
when he would look upon the face of God in Jesus Christ
and no longer doubt or fear or raise lament
instead he’d hear those words for which he’d
dreamed and wept and prayed and been kept secure
well done my good and faithful servant
and join would his praise with all the saints
and the choruses will be sung most fervent
and all will be well with his soul
no longer does his heart need bear the sword
for holy holy holy is the Lord
and we have met him at his table
come Lord Jesus come
let us rise and feast with you
Mineshaft
I wanted to dance down to the seashore and look at the moon lit path across the waves. Yet the sky was stormy and thus the moon was hid and so why bother I told myself. But sometimes it’s lovely to walk down the beach in the pouring rain. The tears from heaven testify to a greater love than one has ever known and if I cry no one needs to know. For truly in a day and age such as this sorrow seems to be written on every face and I cannot wait at a bus stop without hearing some sad tale. Is the testimony of the current moment different from all those moments that came before I wonder. Or is it just a fact that all the moments from the past have been piled up in just so a fashion and in a moment when a match has been lit and dropped the bonfire pours smoke towards heaven in living analogue for the ephemeral nature of our collective memory? I think this is close to the truth. And thus I read and write and spend far too much metaphorical ink attempting to memorialize the thoughts and dreams of a single specimen of individuality. For reading links me to the past and present cries of man in ways that pluck the heart strings of my soul and reminds me that my thoughts are not so solitary as I sometimes think. Yes I take pleasure at times in feeling unique in my mode of expressing how I feel. Reading the words of others shakes me up in a way that’s needed and show me that I am not that special after all. Well, I am special. But not at the expense of the beauty of my fellow brothers and sisters. Remember that, remember the sacred witness of my brother who walks past me on the sidewalk and that he too bears the imprint of the divine. Remember that, harken to the true nature of my sister who rings me up at the grocery store, that she too points up to heaven with the very fact of her existence on this plane. I write and I write and I write. Oh I can’t help but write as I feel I burn up when I am not and that these words that pour out of me may be silly posturing, mere leaves on the breeze, yet still they are mine and mine alone. Only one other holds my hand as I write, and his hand is a scarred one. The scars on his hand remind me of divine love. I tremble as I think that this reality we see now is only a shade of the true. Someday we will see in brighter colors and hear in more vivid tones. Someday we will sing in purer voices and as I think on this now I tremble imagining my someday home. I consider those who are my true family, not just those who bear the resemblance because we have a common creator, but those brothers and sisters true who confess the truth of life and death and our resurrected God and cling to that common hope that someday all shall be made new. Why do I sometimes break down in silent tears when I ponder what it is to cross the ford to the other side and read of those brothers and sisters who have done so before me crying in joy at what lies ahead. It is far better than anything here, as has been so often said. Not for the absence of the sorrow that is now ever present in this tainted world in which we live. That is a piece, but only a small one. Rather I look forward to a shared meal with the one who has never stopped holding my hand. One day some day soon I pray I will break bread and drink wine with the one who was broken and bled for the salvation of my soul. Imagine that! I will be with my Lord Jesus and he will hold me even as now he knows me and finally I can truly say I’m home. Some day. Until then, I’ll treasure these walks on the beach in the light of rising sun. When shall the day of consummation be? I do not know. Only one does. But for now I’ll write these words and seal them with a kiss. See how the clouds break. See how the gulls wheel across the sky.
Morning Jazz
I think I should post one more book review because well…why not right? And I shall finally be caught up! At least for the moment that is.
60. The Story of Christianity – Volume 1: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation by Justo L. Gonzalez. Church history has been calling my name lately, especially with so much reading of various Christology works and pondering on the growth and development of Christian thought. I knew I would pull this from the shelf and I finally couldn’t resist. It’s been some time since I read this one – believe it was 2015 when I first read it. I appreciated it then, especially for the insight into church history and the many details that I had never heard of until I read this book. Rereading this one, I found myself a bit more aware and knowledgeable of the broad strokes, but still found myself both encouraged and fascinated as I read. Not at all a book that will bore you, I found this one a page turner and one that I eagerly sought to read whenever I had a moment! That may say more about me, who knows. Anyway! This book – while massive – still felt a tad underbaked at times. It’s really more of a survey, which I suppose makes sense. How else are you going to pack 1500 years of history into one volume? Still many chapters I wished for more details and more development and this really only piqued my interest to find more books on the various characters and chapters of history that you’ll find in this tome. But I suppose I shouldn’t quibble too much. I would call this a very suitable primer to Christian history and I’m very glad I read this. Already have volume 2 on my coffee table ready to begin!
Subway Dreams
Some book thoughts this Friday evening. Be well, my friends.
57. God The Son Incarnate by Stephen Wellum. A wonderful text on Christology, meaty enough for any theology nerd yet still quite readable for a layperson such as myself. This book took a while to get through, but it was never a chore or struggle. I much enjoyed this one and it was oh so good for my soul to reflect on the person of the Son and dwell on his beauties and glory. I appreciated the author starting this book with a survey of the history of Christology and analyzing the change of paradigms up to the present day and making it clear how our epistemology will affect how we understand the person of Christ. The author is very grounded in a biblical epistemology, which I’m sure will annoy the modern rationalists, yet I appreciate the author taking the time to delve into the importance of epistemology and then proceeding into the wonderful subject of the person of Christ, starting with the testimony of the Bible itself, then proceeding with the unfolding of our understanding of the the divine Word as we work through the church age (and the various Christological controversies that resulted in a more clear and vivid picture of Christ – his person and nature). I will most certainly not start discussing some of what I learned. Suffice it to say it was extremely interesting, enabled me to have a better understanding of the history of Christology, and aided me in better acquainting myself with the orthodox understanding of who Christ is. I did not find anything to disagree with, but I did at times face statements and perspectives that were difficult to comprehend. I would be lying if I said I perfectly understood this subject (as I think anyone would). I love this book because it aided in my daily devotion and meditation on Christ and pointed me further and deeper into my worship of the eternal Son. All praise be to God!! It also for certain helped me add more books to my reading list, though I was gratified to see one that I have recently read – Macleod’s “Person of Christ” quoted myriads of times. I do believe Macleod’s book is simply phenomenal and one I enjoyed more for the richness of its language, even if it isn’t quite as dense or detailed as this tome. Anyway, I stray. Just know that this book is worth the price of admission if you are at all interested in the orthodox understanding of who Christ is or simply seeking to read a book that will encourage your soul as you meditate on the glories of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. This is a beautiful book.
58. Scott Pilgrim’s Precious Little Life – Vol 1 by Bryan Lee O’Malley. Sometimes you just need a break from a dense and difficult work and so you turn to an easy and entertaining graphic novel. And Scott Pilgrim fits the bill. I enjoyed this re-read, as simple and silly as it is! Of course it helps having the movie in the back of my mind at all times, as I visualize that and hear the line readings in my head. This is nothing serious or insightful, just pure fun. And sometimes that’s ok.
59. Scott Pilgrim vs. the World – Vol 2 by Bryan Lee O’Malley. In the mood to continue my reacquaintance with Scott, I heartily enjoyed this read, especially because it delves into Scott’s past and gives a bit of his backstory (like his past with Kim!!). Also some great Knives bits and even a fun recipe and cooking interlude! I like this one. And question. Is it weird that I think Ramona is not the most interesting girl in this book? Or…even the second most interesting girl? For some reason, Kim and Knives were much more fascinating in this one. (and now I think ahead to Vol 3, where a certain Natalie V enters the scene). Anyway, this one was a fun quick read!
Something Weird 