Another Monday begins. What this week brings who can tell? Or at the least, I can say for certainty not I. A bit of uncertainty, a bit of anxiety as we slide headfirst into April into chaos looming. But is not all of life a bit of chaos, heedlessly unconstrained by the chains that we so meticulously fasten around our plans in order to bring about our own designs? We think at times that if we plan just so and schedule in such and such a fashion that we might then truly have our lives set aright and in smooth and careful steps proceed accordingly to our will. We would be as gods. Yet all of life goes to prove us wrong. We take firm steps and we plan. This is good. Yet on this sea that tosses violently there is only one who can of his own accord calm it. Not I, never I. Is that not a bit reassuring? It is to me and you may wonder why. It is simple – I am every day shown how feeble and frail are my strivings. If the path of my life was up to me alone, I would have good reason to be terrified at the outcome. For I know the deep and lingering darkness in myself as well as the storm that howls round about. It is not a good thing to be left to one’s own devices. And so on this slowly waking morning, I look anew to the horizon grateful for my soul’s own mooring. I trust not in myself for myself, thanks be to God! Instead I trust in the one who never fails and never flees. I trust in Jesus Christ who gave his life for me. This is true and this is real and this actuality of salvation which has occurred is more solid looming in my mind than any imagined pain or hurt. I linger in wondering awe at the foot of this long dreamed hill and watch the flowers grow.
Tag: faith
Lovingly She Said
23. Meditation and Communion with God by John Jefferson Davis. A really rather wonderful book on the reality that is true communion with God. It is easy to say trite phrases such as “God with us” or “When two or more gather in my name, there am I with them” and nod our heads and think yes of course we are Christians and we acknowledge that God is real and God is with us. But what do these truths actually mean? How can we understand ontologically what it means to be found in Christ? In a deeper philosophical sense, what does it mean that the Holy Spirit is within us and somehow someway working in us? How can as Christians meditate in a way that is healthy, theologically sound and yet also profoundly real? This book is a wonderful essay thinking through some of these questions in a way which speaks to my soul. I confess, I first read this book some 12 years ago now – when I was still residing in Aberdeen! – and I remember being much moved by it and giving it pride of place on my bookshelf. I have not read it since then and recently as I’ve been meditating more and more on the reality of what it means to abide in Christ, I wanted to give this book another whirl and see how it struck me this time. Well I will confess that apparently either I have not changed that much (false, to be sure) or this book really does hold some pretty profound truths – and wonderfully incisive phrasings to hit home – on the nature of our communion with the true God. This book is not exactly an easy read – there are some concepts that are quite difficult to get your mind around. But is that not only proper? Though I found some of the metaphors a bit wonky and maybe less helpful than the author intended (I really could have done with less of the Skype metaphor!), I do appreciate the effort the author took to try and clearly communicate what it means that we in actuality participate in the work of Christ in a real and abiding sense, just as we in actuality participate in heavenly realities in a way which is more real than we fully now understand. The author does a wonderful job of discussing some heady concepts in a way that enflamed my soul with awe as I considered the truths of being a new creation through the work of God in my life. The author also dives deep into what meditation can look like and how it can be practiced in a way which is both biblical and grounded while also very and almost mystically real. I don’t claim to fully understand how God is constantly at work in those who are his, but I can say with confidence that this book was a wonderful aid to my pondering the truths of God and His works in our lives. And I loved the strong Trinitarian theme that runs throughout! Again, the author does not shy away from hard sayings! Instead, the author digs into the Scriptural texts and seeks to bring out their truths into the modern age. Yes, there are a few sayings and quotations in this book that perhaps make me nervous, such as his quoting of persons from a very diverse set of Christian persuasions, yet I cannot find fault with this author for being willing to learn from those who may not come exactly from one narrow stream of Christian thought. At the end of the day, I appreciated the fact that this book was soaked in Scripture and written by one who most clearly knows God and seeks to know Him more. Oh how I long to seek my God thus – and this book mightily encouraged me in that quest and gave me such a sweet desire to draw closer to my God.
24. Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. A remarkably unique book. I have not read this book in many years – I believe since my college days! – and I recently felt a desire to read some more Lewis and realized I had this book on my shelf and simply must revisit! It was interesting reading it now and I had to be careful to not be overly critical at times! As always with Lewis, I am always finding little things here and there that I don’t quite agree with and sometimes the way he approaches a question feels a bit forced and sometimes I was wishing for more Scripture! Yet! That last complaint especially is a silly one, as I realise that Lewis is writing this book (or rather – gave a series of talks) primarily to talk to those who do not yet know Christ and certainly would not respond well to a scriptural quote-fest! This book is an apologetic book, walking one through the journey of considering the possibility of God and what that may mean to our lives on this earth, particularly if this God turned out to be the Christian one that has been shown to us in the revelation of His Word, firstly in the person of Christ and secondarily in the inspired Scriptures. Lewis’ style is – as always – a delight. It’s simple yet deep, bracing yet fatherly. We get a sense here that Lewis is genuinely trying to tell us something that he actually believes is really true. Which. Yes. In pondering this book, part of me is annoyed that Lewis doesn’t come out and say things more forcefully at times. Yet is that not purposeful? Lewis here is not trying to outline in detail a particular line of dogma. He very clearly states up front that he’s not calling for one denomination or sect as true or false and he also very clearly states – again, aggravatingly at times – that he believes most traditions have their validities and can lead to God. Yet this book is about giving someone the opportunity to ask questions about the nature (or even possibility) of God and then gently guiding them down the path of what this then must necessarily entail. I love it for that. This is a book I can easily recommend to someone and then say – read this then let’s talk for a while. This book doesn’t have all the answers – really, what book does? – but it is a marvelous primer for one who is wondering about God and thinks that maybe there’s something out there? Yes, it’s a tad dated now, written near on 90 years ago, and so maybe Lewis doesn’t quite talk or write in the way it would be the most helpful for those of us in the 21st century. Still though? There is definitely utility to this one and as always with Lewis, there are those sentences and paragraphs that shine with the most brilliant clarity and truth that you take a gasp in awe. So many nuggets that Lewis just casually drops in front of us. I could go on and on with some quibbles here and there, but really, I don’t want to debate Lewis on the details here, because the point of this book is to point us in the direction of a real God who really communicates to us and who really, truly wants to be in communion with us so that we can in actuality be transformed into who we are truly meant to be – sons and daughters of God. What this means we cannot now know, but we eagerly wait for the day when all shall be revealed. Lewis talks about real things as being real things. If God is real, what does that mean for us? What shall we do with that information? That’s a good question. I shall end with some of Lewis’ own words, which I feel will be far more valuable than my own.
“Even in literature and art, no man who bothers about originality will ever be original: whereas if you simply try to tell the truth (without caring twopence 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.”
The Writings of Mr. Lucius Cavandar, XII
A few thoughts on a book this lovely springtime day.
20. John G. Paton – A Missionary to the New Hebrides by John Paton. A fantastic autobiography, truly one of the most inspiring and interesting books I’ve read this year. I’ve had this book on my shelf for over a year now and never quite got to it, partly because of its size and partly because of my terribly misplaced thought that because it was a 19th-century autobiography it would be a slow and tedious read. Oh how wrong I was. This book was action-packed (truly!), quick paced and a joy to read. But what is it about? Well, it’s the story of a man’s missionary life in the New Hebrides, an island group a bit to the northwest of Australia. John Paton was a Scottish man who set his course to follow the directions of his Lord and his heart burned within him to go and preach the gospel to those who had never heard such a wondrous mystery. I keep wanting to go into detail on this man’s gospel-fever and his quest to speak of love of Jesus to cannibal heathens and his delight in seeing the Spirit work, yet I cannot do this book justice with my feeble words! But I feel that this book (published in the late 19th century itself) surely is an essential read to anyone seeking to do missionary work in a far off land. Paton discusses the travails and struggles of working with a people whose culture and ways are oh so different…yet he also speaks of the ways in which the men and women he encounters are not that different from the Scottish folks he had left behind. And you’ll notice earlier I used the word “heathen”, a word (along with pagan) that Paton is not shy about slinging around during his narrative. That may seem crass and misguided in this day and age, but of truth I was a bit delighted to read Paton using this word in the sense in which it is the most fitting – of those who do not know God or practice the works of God. As Paton’s work progresses, he is unsparing about his comparisons of the natives he has settled amongst versus the people of his homeland and is very fiery in his describing the majority of his fellow countrymen back home as “white heathens!” Paton with love and grace shows how God works in hearts of people throughout the globe, no matter their colour or race. Yes, some of his descriptors and tone may seem a bit outdated to our modern ears, but all in all, this is a sound book, full of the passion Paton has for seeing the gospel of Jesus Christ be made known. And just as Paton describes the struggle of missionary life in the faraway land, he also spends much time (perhaps too much for my liking?) describing the most dreaded part of all missionary life. Fund-raising. There is much discussion of Paton using his skills in public speaking and relationship forming to criss-cross Australia (and later the world!) to raise awareness for the mission to the New Hebrides and the needs that could be met if regular church-goers felt the urge to give and support. This book felt remarkably modern with Paton’s very real and practical discussion of what was needed to keep the missions supported. At times I felt I disagreed slightly with the approach taken (multiple large collections taken to purchase their own ships which seemed to me perhaps not the right move?) and at times I felt I was only hearing one side of the story (which, true – as this is an autobiography!), but in truth? This book is remarkably valuable as a primary source and a work in which a missionary describes in detail his work over the course of many years. It is even fascinating observing how Paton’s own beliefs change over time. When he is in Ireland for one of his fund-raising tours, he mentions his impatience with the whole “Organ Debate” and the question of instrumental music in churches. He mentions his former staunch belief that instruments should not be allowed in churches but that his practical experience in the New Hebrides using instruments and the singing of hymns changed his mind for good!
I mentioned earlier that this book was action-packed and quick-paced. That is true. There is so much going on, lots of adventures that Paton is involved in (truly only God could have protected him during the many perilous encounters he was involved in!) and the way in which Paton describes the natives and the conversations he had with them is utterly gripping. At times I wished Paton had maybe described himself and his family a bit more (his wife and children were mentioned barely at all!), but that is not Paton’s focus. He is – probably rightfully – focused on the task at hand, the mission to the natives of the New Hebrides and his heart burns to make known the tale. This is not a man writing something so that he might be known by posterity. Nay, this is a man writing a very gripping account of present-day happenings that he might spread awareness of his mission and the work that God hath wrought in lands long-thought unreachable. I would strongly recommend this book to any missionary or anyone with a heart for missions…and indeed, any Christian whose heart thrills to hear the accounts of God working, which even to this day He is.
Symphonic
This morning I sit on my couch for a few minutes and feel oh so thankful for all the little blessings that continually attend me. It is easy to feel confident in my own accomplishments and gathered goods and say that I have done this, that I have sowed and reaped and gathered and all that I possess is because I have done this or that. But really? What do I have that has not been given to me? What do I possess that I can claim is mine and mine alone? Am I so bold and sovereign to claim that I alone am the master of all that I survey? This is where the introspective soul looks inward and can potentially quail in terror and think that if I have no sovereignty in my own life, what then do I have and of what worth am I? Am I a worm, am I an ephemeral note upon the breeze, a dusting of moss upon the rock facing seaside? And then I look outward and see that I nakedly cling to this rock of a planet that rotates swift and moves in ordered dance throughout the seemingly void space of universal tapestry of being and wonder at my pride that I should think I am of any worth whatsoever when I possess the most miniscule fraction of energetic ability to do anything whatsoever in the momentary life that I lay claim to as birthright. So to combine the two – the inward look at self and worth or lack thereof and the outward look into the immensity of the chaotic void – and what do we come up with but sheer existential terror. It is not entirely a bad thing to be reminded of one’s place in the cosmos, but one must also understand the totality of being and realize there has been revelation of truth if we would have the eyes to see. This revelation echoes in the masterpiece of the heavens and in the conscience that whispers within and even now we hear music on the wind as we stand on the cliff at the edge of the sea and breathe deep of the rich oxygen that has been bestowed upon us by a being too great to comprehend by my aching broken mind. Because yes, this is where I stop looking in and stop looking out and simply stand still and wait to see the face of God. All I have seen in this life is a testimony to the existence of a being beyond myself that has in itself all sovereignty and inherent glory that I cannot claim as mine. I rejoice in that self-evident truth and sigh in satisfaction knowing that I can rest in God. There is nothing I claim as mine own even though my own pride weeps at the thought. Instead I look to the one who made me and acknowledge His claims to all including me. What can I claim? I can claim an inheritance that comes from calling this God my Father – and that is a mystery too wonderful to truly grasp. For how does this come about – acknowledging the eternal being that is God – that I should be his son? It is simple and it is fact and I do not have time to get into all the specifics, but I can be called a son because there was another, one who stepped out of the corridors of the eternal and clothed himself with the raiment of humanity and in a time-bound moment bled real blood and died a real death that I might receive eternal life and be clothed myself with the garments of immortality and receive an inheritance far too rich to be hoped or dreamed of – a life forever in communion with this God who my soul so longs for. And so as the chaotic void was brought to order with the introduction of a word, so the whirling existential dread of my life is brought to peace with the incarnation of this Word, God became flesh – this Jesus Christ who is my forever song. Amen, hallelujah, may my joy never cease. And it never will, but only heighten – for someday soon, someday soon, I shall in my own perfected flesh with my own perfected eyes look upon the risen Christ and quiver at the eternity that before me lies.
Interstitial
One little book review squeezed in this balmy February afternoon.
12. the practice of the presence of God by Brother Lawrence. This book was most beneficial and good for my soul. I think it is a book I shall return to from time to time. It is a very tiny book (in both square footage and page count!) but I deliberately slowed my reading pace and stretched this out over a week and a half or so, reading a few pages each night. It is a book that some may scoff at or call simple and that others may gaze warily at suspecting it contains content that is overly mystical and potentially dangerous. I read this and took this book as what I think it was intended to be – a call to be more constantly in communion with our God as we recognize the reality of his presence and the wonder of his love for his children that he has called to himself. Oh how encouraging it is to meditate on the word and work of God! This book is a simple one, written in language that seems old-fashioned and (dare I say) childish at times. Yet the truth contained therein is that which angels marvel at. I’m grateful to read the words and convictions of one monk who spent most of his life seeking to be close to God at all times even in (especially in!) the mundane and everyday activities that at times sap us so. This book encouraged me and convicted me both. I ought spend more time in prayer and constant conversation with my God. I ought form habits that pull me towards such divine contemplation and an intimate realized knowledge that God is real and that He is with me. Do we really believe in God? Do we really believe he is one who is listening and longing to hear our prayers? If so, then why are we not doing more to cultivate and delight in the greatest relationship we will ever have – that of an adopted son and daughter of the living God with this very being himself. I’m grateful to this book for reminding me of such, and of being an aid to renew and spur my hunger and thirst for righteousness – this righteousness only fully realized in saving faith and relationship with Jesus Christ my Lord. Yes at times I read the words of this book and thought – of course it is easy for Brother Lawrence to do this, he’s in a monastery! Excuses excuses. May I more fully and deeply plunge into the deep and true river that is a glorious eternal knowledge and relationship with my God. This book points me towards thinking more of God and less of self, and for that I am grateful. May we ever delight in the most beautiful reality that there could be – eternal peace with God.
Trembling
How precious it is to be a child of God. Sometimes I feel like I know it, sometimes the feeling flees so far away, that I wouldn’t be surprised if it was on the other side of the Atlantic. Most thankfully my status as a child of God does not depend on my feelings. If it did, I would be in trouble most deep and would spend all my time wailing for paradise that has been lost. But praise be to God – I am a child of God by His work and His alone! I could go on and on about this work – what poetic majesty swells within me as I think of the person of Jesus Christ who lived and died and rose again – historical reality that makes the earth tremble in its wake. Jesus is my Savior who draws me to Himself when all else seems to dim and turn to dross. I need not fear for what’s been lost in this world for all I can say is that I have been found. A sheep I am that’s carried home. A coin I am that’s held aloft in joy. A son I am that’s been offered a place at the table once again. Oh one day how I long to break bread and wine with my Savior Lord. And at this table as I look at my fellow brothers and sisters and commiserate of our common failures (Adam, David, Peter – we have things to discuss) but better yet speak with delight of our common salvation, I can only hold back a sob as I consider the fact that this someday moment is not so far as it might be thought. Soon sometimes seems so far removed from this present me. Yet the day when all shall be changed and I shall be changed and I shall gaze upon my Lord’s face in bliss and joy? This day is drawing nearer. How precious it is to meditate on Jesus.
La bohème
A few thoughts on books this fine cold Friday evening!
7. Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain. This book remains a classic for a reason. I re-read this one in order to have proper comparison point for James(finished right before I started this one), though honestly I didn’t really need to. I read this a few years ago and remember being delighted by it and you know what? No changes to my thoughts on it, except to be surprised anew by the power and sparkle of Twain’s prose. He tells a fascinating tale here, a story of a boy in a murderous and insane world. Twain – as he always does – loves to highlight the absurdity of people and he does that all over the place in this one. Books could be written about all the different types of people Twain lampoons. Books could be written about all the different manifestations of barbarism that Twain details. I’m sure they have. Is this book a bit old-fashioned? Perhaps it is. Perhaps it’s not quite as fit for the modern taste and sensibilities of modern days. Perhaps it’s a bit too rambling and a bit too unfocused. I still greatly enjoyed this one. I’ve read books written more recently that read far more alien than this one! Twain has a great ear for dialogue and great insight into the human psyche. Grateful that books such as this have been written. And yes, it is known, but Twain does write some truly hilarious dialogue. I will never not laugh at the conversation about mumps.
8. The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding by Agatha Christie. A fine collection of Christie short stories to read this Christmas season. I haven’t read Christie in a while and this book reminded me how much I love her writing! Some of the short stories are a bit weaker than others, but there are definitely at least a few top notch tales here, worthy of the price of admission. I felt the Marple adventure at the end (“Greenshaw’s Folly”) was weakest of the lot. But seeing Poirot back in action again was very fun indeed. “The Mystery of the Spanish Chest” was great fun and I found myself rolling my eyes at all the tropes pulled out in “The Under Dog” yet somehow still found it a great rollicking read. And not in any of the stories did I quite crack them until the end! I got close a few times, but never quite there. Alas. This was a fun light read and I’m glad I picked this one up. Christie is a master for a reason.
9. The City of God by Augustine. Well, that was a book. I have been reading this one for probably far too long and I feel a bit dazed to realise I have actually finished it. This book is an interesting one to think about and perhaps I will revisit these words in a few weeks once I have more time to let this one simmer (yet Augustine’s words have been simmering around in my brain for the past eight months or so, so maybe that is long enough!). I am glad I read this book, yet I’m not sure I’ll ever re-visit. For this book, more than any I’ve read in recent memory, is a chore. Augustine goes here and there and everywhere. Yes the book is structured. Yes there is a progression. But I find myself slightly baffled at times by the topics that Augustine chooses to spend fifty pages on, and then the topics I would consider slightly more important get barely a page. Editors today would have a field day with this one. I don’t generally consider abridged versions of old books a good idea, but I would not argue with someone who chose to read a (good) abridged copy of this book.
Am I really being so harsh on Augustine, one of the prominent theologians of the Christian world? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike this one. I simply find it a bit unfocused and probably not entirely worth the time and effort it takes to read. In a way though, I think I understand why I feel as I do. In some ways, this book has far more value as a historical work than as a theological one. Yes, there are many solid and brilliant theological insights contained therein. Yes, Augustine’s devotion to the faith and high view of Scripture cannot be denied. Yes, Augustine’s clinging to Christ as the only way of salvation and his understanding of being eternally with God as the prime good of mankind was encouraging, and thrilling to meditate on! Yet, I also realise that this book was (as all books are) a product of its time. This is actually quite a polemical work. Augustine is responding to the philosophies of his day and speaking to the world in which he lived. So this book is enlightening and fascinating as we consider the topics that were of supreme and dire importance to the great minds of the late 4th century. In this day we do not perhaps need pages and pages detailing the natures and deficiencies of the pagan gods who were so quickly fading into irrelevance. But still? This book is important because it shows a great man of God (and indeed a great intellect, though that is of lesser importance) defending the faith and boldly speaking forth the gospel of God to a world that was so lost in its own pride and ignorance. Maybe the pride and ignorance of that long-ago world seems odd to us now, yet we cannot smirk too much. In this present world we are just as proud of our ignorance, though we would not put it in such terms. Anyway! I go off the topic. This book is important and it is quite fascinating to see Augustine discussing the Christian faith in a world that had just known the name Jesus Christ for barely four centuries. And I am exceedingly encouraged to see the faith Augustine has in both the nature and work of God, as well as his utter confidence in the Scriptures. Yes, sometimes Augustine says things with absolute confidence that I would…question. Augustine is not perfect and this book is not perfect. Yet still, there are many times where Augustine humbly confesses that he does not quite know the answer and simply puts forth his thoughts in the wisdom that he knows God has given him. Would that we all in this day exhibit more of Augustine’s humility.
This book is an odd one. I think I’m glad I read it? Would I recommend it? Unsure. At least, if you’re going to read Augustine, read Confessions first. I am grateful to ponder the truths that Augustine expounded, though the journey was messy at times. It is good to think that God indeed has a people that He has called into communion with Himself. We are now truly part of the city of God and someday we shall fully and intimately know God in a way we do not know Him now. For that day we long. We do not know exactly the future or how God shall accomplish His will. Yet we do know that God’s will shall be accomplished and that He shall not abandon the people He has called to Himself. There always has been a remnant. And someday this remnant shall weep and rejoice as the bride beams to welcome her bridegroom. Oh come quickly Lord Jesus. This is a desire that burned just as hot in Augustine’s own soul. Someday I wish to talk theology with this dear brother and rejoice as we look on the face of our Lord, even if now we cannot quite imagine what that will be like. We do know it shall be far better than we can think now. Oh Lord Jesus, come quickly.
Light and Life
I have many thoughts swirling around my mind. Whether they are particularly good or inspired ones is a question for another day. But for the now, I’m grateful for a cosy home and a warm hoodie and a couch that is far more comfortable than it has any right to be. Many other things I can name in this space that deserve the praise, but shall I clutter this place with words too feeble to do justice? I feel now is not the time.
I will say how thankful I am for quiet 6am moments where the house is still and quiet and my mind waking up slowly yet unfilled by a day’s worth of worries thrills to the idea of reading a few pages in the word of God and delighting in truths that have been passed on to us for millennia and in caretaking of these truths I partake in worship as I ponder the wonders of the Holy God who has called me and calls me into closer communion with Himself day by day. And while at times it is tempting to spend time reminiscing and chronicling the past, my best thoughts in this morning hour are ones that look towards heaven. The past is blessed by God and wondrous enough. But what does future bring? Whispers of eternity fill my dreams and I tremble. Does your heart ache to know the joy that comes with seeing our God face to face? Mine does. I dwell on the promises of God and the peace that fills my heart through salvation that been granted me through the dazzling word and work of Jesus Christ my Lord. My eyes lift to heaven and my mind thinks of the eternal future that even now stretches before my slow and feeble feet. My flesh and my heart do fail. How good it is to be near God.
Table Talk
The windows glow golden in the early evening light. Sunlight trickles past the curtains and falls shyly on Isabel’s hands as she slices the cheese. It’s the simple things that bring her pleasure these days, the way the sharp knife falls through the cheddar and gently kisses her favorite wooden cutting board. It’s the way the hearty pieces of cheese tip over onto the board and make a pile to the side of her hands working on autopilot. These autopilot tasks can be dangerous things sure, as Isabel generally does not enjoy slicing into her fingers in tasks such as these. But for now? Isabel delights in the good work that is preparing food in her kitchen as the late winter light filters inside. There are too many tasks of late that have tasked her cerebral abilities and it is kind of nice to just use her hands and make something that will go to a good purpose. In this case, sandwiches for an adventure. Because of course, adventures demand sandwiches, as everyone knows. Because at some point in the adventure when all goes wrong and the adventure goers are cantankerous and hungry, that’s when the plucky heroine will remember – we’ve got sandwiches! And they’ll pull them out of the knapsack and pass them around. Instantly moods will be improved. Thus it has been, thus it always will be.
The door shakes a bit as a knock sounds once, twice. Thrice. And Isabel knows that pattern and she stops her slicing and tells Harry he can enter. The door opens noisily – she really must get Dad to oil those hinges – and Harry enters in beaming bright. It’s time, Isabel! Are you ready? This is it.
Isabel smiles and turns to him in reply. I can’t say that I’m ready. But I’m here.
Harry frowns at that – usually she is the eager one. But why? What’s the matter? I’ve got the paper and the pens, the compass and the old-style camera. And the raincoats. And a bunch of water bottles in this backpack. And power bars. And two flashlights. And yes extra batteries before you ask. What else? Isabel notices that he at last slows down his spiel as finally picks up on the absent vibe she’s giving off. She’s not trying to space out, it’s just her mind is whirling with deeper mysteries. Harry deserves to know. Why does she always shut him out in the moments when her soul is crying the loudest?
Harry I’m sorry. Isabel sets down the knife and turns to him deliberately this time. I think I’m a bit afraid of what’s to come. I’ve been looking forward to it for so long, but now? I’m just a little scared. Sorry.
Of course, no matter. I’m sorry, Isabel. Have I been rude and pushy? I know I probably have been. I’m sorry.
Oh Harry! Don’t say sorry again. It’s not your fault. I’ve just been thinking a lot lately, about the future and us and this world and my dreams and church and God and your parents and my parents and…well everything.
Harry sighs as a cloud passes across his eyes. He sits down on one of the stools at the island and sets his elbows on top. Ok. Yeah. Ok yeah I get it. There’s a lot going on. Even today. My dad and my mom. Well. You know.
Is she ok?
Yeah, she’s fine. I mean no. But she’s used to it. She shouldn’t have to be. I swear, Isabel, one day I’m really going to talk to him. Maybe it’s my fault.
No Harry. It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault. Hey do you want a sandwich? I think I’ve cut too much cheese.
Harry laughs – only a little forced – and a sparkle returns to his eyes. Sure, I could eat something now. I’m starving since we didn’t even eat anything after church. What do you got? Cheese, cheese and more cheese?
We have some deli turkey too. Let me knock something up. Mayo and mustard ok?
Sure he replies absently as he’s gone back to gazing at the glazed tiles on top the island. Yeah those are fine.
Isabel’s face drops. She’s brought him down to her mood. Well, maybe she ought tell him what she’s really thinking about. For there is more in her head than the universe can contain. This day of all days. She slices a few pieces of bread off the sourdough loaf that Mom made earlier and then goes to the fridge to find the condiments. Turkey, mustard, mayo…and yes, there is some lettuce and even a tomato. She takes the sandwich goods back to the counter and begins assembly of Harry’s sandwich. Mustard on one side, mayo on the other. Turkey, a generous sprinkling of pepper and salt. Lay on a thick slice of cheddar, then the tomato and then the lettuce. Gently press the other piece of bread on top. There. Oh please help this make Harry feel better.
Sandwich in hand, Isabel walks over to Harry. Here you go, good sir. Your afternoon snack as requested. Harry’s head turns up from his studious examination of the counter top and a smile slowly creeps onto his face. You’re aces, Isabel. You know that? He takes the sandwich and takes a bite. He leans back, feet tapping on the floor in rhythm with the branch tapping on the window. That’s a delight, love. Pure culinary bliss there.
Isabel breathes a quick prayer of thanks and sits on the stool next to him. You know what I’m really thinking about, Harry? You were at church today, right?
Harry swallows a bite honestly larger than anyone should ever take and nods. Yeah, we were there. We sat in the back and left early. But we were there. Little good it did dad.
Well you were there for communion yeah? The Lord’s Supper. Isabel let her eyes lock onto Harry’s. This was important and she felt as if it were beyond her ability to communicate. I know me and my family have been going to church since before I was born so maybe it’s just routine for me sometimes. Today was anything but. Do you understand communion?
Harry nods then kind of shakes his head back and forth. Maybe? I know it’s about remembering Jesus on the cross and his sacrifice. It’s not as pomp and circumstance as it was when we used to go to catholic mass. But it still seems like a pretty big deal at Trinity. Definitely wasn’t going to walk up to that table today though. My parents didn’t either, we just watched. I saw you walk up there. You looked so solemn and serious.
Isabel smiled. Yeah. It was a moment. And I’m glad you didn’t go up. It would have not been right. You know.
Harry smiled. Yeah. I know.
Isabel closed her eyes briefly before continuing. Well the bread is there for the body of Christ – broken for us. The wine is for the blood of Christ – shed for us. I say us but you know what I mean. It’s for you if you only believe. We’ve talked about this, I won’t keep saying it again and again. Just know you only need to repent and believe and this gift of Christ is yours. Eternal life and more than just life. Eternal joy in the presence of perfect divinity and love. And the wine and bread at communion – they represent what Christ did for us. And so today…hey is this too much? Isabel bites her lip.
No, Isabel. I…you know I’m trying to figure this out. And I like hearing your passion. Please keep going.
And so she does. Well, Harry – today I was thinking about all this in a different way and it just struck me the sheer reality and power of what Jesus did. The bread we took and broke was real bread. It had substance. I was able to hold it in my hand and eat it and taste it on my tongue. The wine we took and poured was real wine. It had substance. I was able to smell it and sip it and feel it on my tongue. The bread and the wine were real and had real substance. And then I thought – this physical reality that the bread and the wine inhabited and bore witness to – well, so too does Jesus inhabit the real plane of existence. Jesus is just as real and solid and verifiable as the bread and wine on that table. The body of Jesus was able to be touched and hugged and looked upon. And then subsequently it was able to be whipped and beaten and pierced and stabbed. And it was hung on a tree. And this real body of Jesus hung on a real tree and this Jesus that was real died for ones such as you and me. And just as I today at church ate and partook of the bread and wine so too in mystery have I taken and partook and now bear witness to the real Christ who actually in reality walked on this earth. Jesus was real, Harry. You get it? He’s real. He’s not a figment of imagination or a storybook character or some lame religious icon. He’s real. And not past tense. Jesus is real. He lives again. He lives now and someday I will get to see this reality that is more real than anything in this room and I will look at his face and hug his feet and feel his body that died for me and I think I will cry because I can’t help it. Why would God send his son to die for someone like me. I’m pretty terrible sometimes. Why would the God that is real send his son – also real and also God in some incomprehensible mysterious reality – to die a terribly real death for someone like me? This is the meat and potatoes of Christianity, Harry. Jesus is a real person – and by person I mean God and man in perfect divine harmony and reality – and this real person died for me. How can I not weep at that? How can I not want to sing in bliss at the very thought? The infinite God of all grace and love and justice and holiness and perfection and mercy and wrath and patience…this God is my salvation because of the real life that died a real death that day on that terrible and wonderful tree. This is real. This is the true God and eternal life for all that would believe. And that’s me. That’s me. My mind shakes at the thought. My soul quivers in joy. Oh Harry. This is real. Not some vain philosophy. So now wherever we go or whatever adventure you join me in? I want you to know the realest reality that was ever divinely gifted me. It is life with my Jesus for all eternity. Know this is my core and this is my truth. This is more real than any thing you can imagine.
Isabel breathes in quick. And then sighs. Her hands press down on the table as she looks into Harry’s eyes. He has been listening this whole time. What does he think? His mouth opens.
And as he starts to speak the thunder grumbles outside. The storm had come quicker than Isabel thought it would. Where had the golden light gone? Or no. The windows glow a bit brighter now with the flashing of the lightning.
Isabel I…Harry stumbles over his words. You are the best person I know. I still don’t fully know if I can go all the way to being a Christian here. It still is a bit much for me. But. I get what you’re saying. I think. It’s real to you and I don’t deny that.
Harry. Isabel interrupts. That’s the point though. It’s not just real to me. This truth is reality incarnate. This truth is real to everyone, whether people want to believe or not. And you must reckon with that truth. Either you deny it in its entirety or you accept it in its entirety. There’s no going halfway here. It’s not some religion you can kinda just keep what you want and we all agree to disagree. This is life and death.
Harry’s eyes widen. Oh no, did she frighten him in her intensity. But this was real and the words that had come pouring out of her mouth could only have done so with Spirit assistance and Isabel didn’t think she was sorry for anything she’d said. Her spirit felt free and clear and she felt energy pulsing through her in harmony with the songs of stars. But Harry. Are you ok?
I think so Isabel and I want to continue the conversation but…look outside. Isabel glances out the window over the sink. The light pours through. But it’s not night anymore and it’s not storming. It seems as if midday. And she sees a grove of pine trees out beyond. A quick intake of breath. It’s time, Harry. Oh it’s time. Get your backpack. Isabel rapid fire stacks sandwich upon sandwich in the drawstring bag she had prepared. And then she turns to Harry. You’ll follow me? Harry nods, eyes wide. Ok. Hold my hand. Let’s open the door.
And Harry and Isabel walk up to the door as the daylight dances through the curtains draping the window. Isabel looks at Harry. Remember what I’ve said today. That’s all real. And Harry? So is this. They open the door. There is a moment of music spiraling around them and a flash of light. Isabel hears a voice calling her name. Then she is somewhere else. And she feels Harry’s hand in hers. We made it.
Suspension
One more book to discuss this beautiful Christmas Eve day.
69. Good Tidings of Great Joy by C.H. Spurgeon. A fantastic little book pointing us to the beauty and wondrous truth that is the incarnation of Christ. A book I’ve been looking forward to reading for some time, I decided it was a perfect “Christmas read”. And so it has turned out to be. Reading this these last few weeks leading up to Christmas (and writing this now on Christmas Eve!) has been delightfully encouraging and soul-enlivening. Oh how good it is to consider the foundation of our salvation – the very person and work of Christ! This book is an ideal devotional book, with each “chapter” being only 3-4 pages long and each full of rich truths and passionate declarations of God’s mercies towards us. As always with Spurgeon, his writings are both pastoral in nature and exceedingly glorifying of God, full of rich metaphors and heartfelt pleading for us to consider Jesus. I found my heart stirred as I read this book. It definitely helped to give myself time to sit and be quiet in both body and soul as I read, as we are oh so harried these days by all the stresses of modern life and it is easy to let ourselves be distracted by all the troubles that surround us. But as I took a deep breath and read and meditated on the truths of God expounded by Spurgeon in this little book, I found my heart exceedingly blessed and I enjoyed true rest. We ought to spend more time meditating on the truths of God and our salvation and letting our minds soar to think of things above as we muse on the salvation that is ours in Jesus Christ our Lord – and this book mightily assists with that.
Something Weird 