Arise, my soul, my joyful powers

Arise, my soul, my joyful powers

Isaac Watts (1674-1748)

Arise, my soul, my joyful powers,
And triumph in my God;
Awake, my voice, and loud proclaim
His glorious grace abroad.

He raised me from the depths of sin,
The gates of gaping hell,
And fixed my standing more secure
Than 'twas before I fell.

The arms of everlasting love
Beneath my soul He placed;
And on the Rock of Ages set
My slippery footsteps fast.

The city of my blest abode
Is walled around with grace;
Salvation for a bulwark stands
To shield the sacred place.

Satan may vent his sharpest spite,
And all his legions roar:
Almighty mercy guards my life,
And bounds his raging power.

Arise, my soul, awake, my voice,
And tunes of pleasures sing;
Loud hallelujahs shall address
My Savior and my King.

Selah.

Hope is all about trust

I saw this cartoon of Moses and Aaron at the Red Sea, where Aaron's got his floatie on just in cast the whole sea crossing thing doesn't work out, lol. Just had to smile! Because it is so true of human nature. When that one moment arrives where we have to push off and live what we say we believe, it's a pausing moment: do I really believe that God has spoken? And am I really willing to trust His voice over my own -- my natural desires, inclinations and comfort zones?

As I thought about it, I realized that hope is all about trust.

When the ancient words tell us to Hope in the Lord, when God speaks through the prophets and says, "Hope you in the Lord and renew your strength!" what does it mean, except to trust in the Lord, even to the exclusion of our own natural wisdom?

When the psalmist tells us that God takes pleasure in those who wait for Him, he is speaking of a kind of expectant waiting, where we wait in trust, expecting God to keep His word, even in His timing.

Likewise, delighting in the Lord is also about placing one's whole being in what God delights in, the highest order of trust... we cannot escape trust! Hope is inextricably linked with trust, but it then is also forever linked with the character of God: the joy of the Lord then becomes our strength, our heart and character remade in divine intent: a paradox, a miracle of grace and transformation.

So, loose the floatie! Trust. Jump in. Enter the miracle. Journey.

Alleluia!

Selah.

Be thou our joy and strong defense

Eternal Monarch, King most high

Words: Latin, fifth century; trans. John Mason Neale
Tune: Deus tuorum militum

Eternal Monarch, King most high,
whose blood hath brought redemption nigh,
by whom the death of Death was wrought,
and conquering Grace's battle fought.

Ascending to the throne of might,
and seated at the Father's right,
all power in heaven is Jesus' own,
that here his manhood had not known.

That so, in nature's triple frame,
each heavenly and each earthly name,
and things in hell's abyss abhorred,
may bend the knee and own him Lord.

Yea, angels tremble when they see
how changed is our humanity;
that flesh hath purged what flesh had stained,
and God, the flesh of God, hath reigned.

Be thou our joy and strong defense,
who art our future recompense:
so shall the light that springs from thee
be ours through all eternity.

O risen Christ, ascended Lord,
all praise to thee let earth accord,
who art, while endless ages run,
with Father and with Spirit one.

Alleluia!

Selah.

The laughing Jesus

I feel as if I've arrived in the world: I'm now taking pictures of Jesus! :-) I snapped this photo from a painting, while at a retreat. It's a great representation of Jesus -- this is the kind of Jesus that children loved: the irresistible smile and humor, pure laughter from the heart! He probably just cracked a perfect joke, right before the artist caught this canvas. :-) Stop for a moment, and visualize the smile of Jesus, the very smile of God upon you. You are His child, and He is for you!

Hear this word, and hope:

The LORD your God is with you,
He is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
He will quiet you with his love,
He will rejoice over you with singing! [Zeph. 3:17]

Alleluia!

Selah.

A word for the day: Ask of me, says the Lord!

Bow to the Lord in perfect fear: Live anew, ask!

Psalm 2

Why are the nations in an uproar?
Why do the peoples mutter empty threats?
Why do the kings of the earth rise up in revolt
and the princes plot together,
against the Lord and against his anointed?
'Let us break their yoke', they say;
'let us cast off their bonds from us.'
He whose throne is in heaven is laughing;
the Lord has them in derision.
Then he speaks to them in his wrath
and his rage fills them with terror.
'I myself have set my king
upon my holy hill of Zion.'
Let me announce the decree of the Lord:
he said to me, 'You are my Son;
this day have I begotten you.
'Ask of me and I will give you the nations for
your inheritance
and the ends of the earth for your possession.
'You shall crush them with an iron rod
and shatter them like a piece of pottery.'
And now, you kings, be wise;
be warned, you rulers of the earth.
Submit to the Lord with fear,
and with trembling bow before him;
Lest he be angry and you perish;
for his wrath is quickly kindled.
Happy are they all
who take refuge in him!

Selah.

A word for the day: Joy is strength!

The joy of the Lord is our strength

The joy of the Lord is your strength.

Sing for joy, O heavens, and exult, O earth; break forth, O mountains, into singing! for the Lord has comforted His people and will have compassion on His afflicted. — “Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation.” — The Lord is my strength and my shield; in Him my heart trusts, and I am helped; my heart exults, and with my song I give thanks to Him. — My soul shall exult in my God, for He has clothed me with the garments of salvation; He has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

In Christ Jesus, then, I have reason to be proud of my work for God. — We also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. — I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

Neh. 8:10; Isa. 49:13; Isa. 12:2; Ps. 28:7; Isa. 61:10; Rom. 15:17; Rom. 5:11; Hab. 3:18

Selah.

Still will we trust

Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary

Words: Words: William Henry Burleigh (1812-1871)
Music: Stanstead

Still will we trust, though earth seem dark and dreary,
and the heart faint beneath his chastening rod;
though rough and steep our pathway, worn and weary,
still will we trust in God!

Our eyes see dimly till by faith anointed,
and our blind choosing brings us grief and pain;
through him alone who hath our way appointed,
we find our peace again.

Choose for us, God! Nor let our weak preferring
cheat our poor souls of good thou has designed;
choose for us, God! Thy wisdom is unerring,
and we are fools and blind.

So from our sky the night shall furl her shadows,
and day pour gladness through his golden gates,
our rough path lead to flower-enameled meadows,
where joy our coming waits.

Let us press on, in patient self denial,
accept the hardship, shrink not from the loss;
our portion lies beyond the hour of trial,
our crown beyond the cross!

Selah.

A joy of mountain wildflowers

Fresh to you from near Mt. Rainier! Enjoy! :-)

He doth still my trust renew

All my hope on God is founded

by Robert Bridges (1844-1930)

All my hope on God is founded;
He doth still my trust renew,
me through change and chance He guideth,
only good and only true.
God unknown,
He alone
calls my heart to be His own.

Pride of man and earthly glory,
sword and crown betray His trust;
what with care and toil He buildeth,
tower and temple fall to dust.
But God's power,
hour by hour,
is my temple and my tower.

God's great goodness aye endureth,
deep His wisdom, passing thought:
splendor, light and life attend Him,
beauty springeth out of naught.
Evermore
from His store
newborn worlds rise and adore.

Daily doth the almighty Giver
bounteous gifts on us bestow;
His desire our soul delighteth,
pleasure leads us where we go.
Love doth stand
at His hand;
joy doth wait on His command.

Still from man to God eternal
sacrifice of praise be done,
high above all praises praising
for the gift of Christ, His Son.
Christ doth call
one and all:
ye who follow shall not fall!

Selah.

A merry secret of joy in trial

As glad and merry as it was possible

by Amy Carmichael

Nearly five hundred years ago Julian of Norwich wrote that when she was earnestly thinking of our Lord’s suffering, and trying to see [as it were] His dying,

…suddenly, He changed the look of His blessed Countenance. The changing of His blessed Coutenance changed mine, and I was as glad and merry as it was possible. Then brought our Lord merrily to my mind: ‘Where is now any point of the pain or of thy grief?’ And I was full merry.

But this is only the beginning. It has not entered into the heart to conceive the joy that is drawing nearer every day – the joy that shall be ours when we are where there will be no more withering or fear of withering.

I understood that we be now, in our Lord’s meaning, in His Cross with Him in His pains and His passion, dying; and we, willing abiding in the same Cross with His help and His grace unto the last pointn, suddenly He shall change His Cheer to us, and we shall be with Him in Heaven. Betwixt that one and the other shall be no time, and then shall all be brought to joy. And thus said He in this Shewing: ‘Where now is any point of thy pain or thy grief?’ And we shall be full blessed.

So she was ‘full merry!’ If it can be this now, what will it be when [as we trust, shortly] we shall see Him, and we shall speak face to face?

It seems to me clear beyond question that in the lives of God’s beloved there are sometimes periods when the adversary is “given power to overcome.” This power need never overwhelm the inner courts of the spirit, but it may press hard on the outworks of being. And so I have been asking that our dearest Lord may have the joy [surely it must be a joy to Him] of saying about each one of us, and about us all a little company of His children: “I can count on him, or her, on them for anything. I can count on them for peace under any disappointment or series of disappointments, under any strain. I can trust them never to set limits, saying, ‘Thus far, and no farther.’ I can trust them not to offer the reluctant obedience of a doubtful faith, but to be as glad and merry as possible.”

And all that begins in the gift of great contentment.

Selah.

Amy Carmichael, “As Glad and Merry as It Was Possible,’ Rose From Brier (Fort Washington, PA: CLC Publications, 2002), 93-94.

Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget

All hail the power of Jesus' name!

Words: Edward Perronet (1725-1792), 1780
Tune: Coronation

All hail the power of Jesus' name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
bring forth the royal diadem,
to crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Crown Him, ye morning stars of light,
who fixed this floating ball;
now hail the Strength of Israel's might,
and crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Crown Him ye martyrs of your God,
who from His altar call:
extol the stem of Jesse's rod,
and crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Ye seed of Israel's chosen race,
ye ransomed of the fall,
hail Him who saves you by His grace.
and crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Hail Him, ye heirs of David's line,
whom David Lord did call,
the God incarnate, Man divine,
and crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Sinners, whose love can ne'er forget
the wormwood and the gall,
go spread your trophies at His feet,
and crown Him, crown Him, crown Him Lord of all!

Let every tribe and every tongue
that bound creation's call,
now shout in universal song
the crowned, the crowned, the crowned Lord of all!

Alleluia!

Selah.

Come, claim the promise spoken!

From all the wind's wide quarters

Words: Timothy Dudley-Smith
Tune: Es flog ein kleins Waldvögelein

From all the wind's wide quarters,
come, see the feast is spread,
of soul-sustaining waters,
of true and living bread;
of sorrows long-departed,
and joys beyond compare –
come, poor and humble-hearted,
the feast of life to share!

With mercy all-prevailing,
God bids the wanderer come;
in grace and peace unfailing
invites the children home.
With loving-kindness tender,
God frees us from our sins –
in glory and in splendor
the feast of life begins!

Come, claim the promise spoken!
God's purpose stands secure.
The fruitful word unbroken
shall evermore endure.
All ancient bondage ended
to sin's corrupting powers –
forgiven, freed, befriended,
the feast of life is ours!

Selah.

O hope of every contrite heart

Jesus, the very thought of thee

Words: Bernard of Clairvaux, twelfth century;
trans. Edward Caswall, 1849
Tune: Windsor (Rhythmic)

Jesus, the very thought of thee
with sweetness fills the breast;
but sweeter far thy face to see,
and in thy presence rest.

No voice can sing, no heart can frame,
nor can the memory find,
a sweeter sound than Jesus' Name,
the Savior of mankind.

O hope of every contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
to those who fall, how kind thou art:
how good to those who seek!

But what to those who find? Ah, this
nor tongue nor pen can show;
the love of Jesus, what it is,
none but who love Him know.

Jesus, our only joy be thou,
as thou our prize wilt be;
in thee be all our glory now,
and through eternity.

Selah.

An August view from a signal tower

I climbed up in a railroad signal tower to take this panoramic scene... only from the height could the curve of the distant hills and trees be seen -- oh the heights I'll go for the sake of fine art! :-) Here is clover in the closest field, framed by tasseled corn and then distant trees in mottled green, vaulted by gradient blue sky... nature sensing harvest and the hint of looming autumn! Enjoy!

A field of clover on a misty July day

Today was really humid -- the water just hung in the air, sometimes with light, almost imperceptible rain, but mostly just with exponential PA humidity! The humidity reduced visibility, but it also created a misty, hazy look across the fields and vales. Here, this field of clover is highlighted by sun in the mists... the moisture just locked in the scent, and the perfumed smell was incredible... enchanting... like something out of Lothlórien, a gift from Galadriel! The bees were buzzing non-stop, called to the sweetness of the clover, sharing it with me... here, enjoy it, too!

p.s. click on pic to enlarge it, and check out the purple haze as the field fades into the floating mists... and note the droplets of moisture on the leaves in the foreground! :-)

Him serve with mirth, His praise forth tell

All people that on earth do dwell

Words: William Kethe, posthumous pub. 1561
Tune: Old 100th

All people that on earth do dwell,
sing to the Lord with cheerful voice:
Him serve with mirth, His praise forth tell,
come ye before Him and rejoice.

The Lord, ye know, is God indeed;
without our aid He did us make:
we are His folk, He doth us feed,
and for His sheep He doth us take.

O enter then His gates with praise,
approach with joy His courts unto;
praise, laud, and bless His Name always,
for it is seemly so to do.

For why? the Lord our God is good,
His mercy is for ever sure;
His truth at all times firmly stood,
and shall from age to age endure.

To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost,
the God whom heaven and earth adore,
from men and from the angel host
be praise and glory evermore

My heart will trust

I'll walk closer now
On the higher way…
Through the darkest night
Will You hold my hand?
Jesus guide my way

O You mourn with me
And You dance with me
For my heart of hearts
Is bound to you…

Though I walk through valleys low
I'll fear no evil –
By the waters still my soul,
My heart will trust in You!

My heart will trust in You
O You counsel me and You comfort me
When I cannot see You light my path…

My heart will trust in You, Lord!

My heart will trust in You!

A dance of joy

The utter joy of finding,
The joy of being found --
Such is the beauty
When Jesus holds His own.

A song for the heart

Pelennor Fields

I deem that she yet lives

Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth, rode up and drew rein before them.

‘What burden do you bear, men of Rohan?’ he cried.

‘Theoden King,’ they answered. ‘He is dead. But Eomer King now rides in the battle: he is with the white crest in the wind.’

Then the prince went from his horse, and knelt by the bier in honor of the king…and he wept. And rising, he looked then on Eowyn and was amazed. ‘Surely, here is a woman?’ he said. ‘Have even the women of the Rohirrim come to war in our time of need?’

‘Nay! One only,’ they answered. ‘The Lady Eowyn is she, sister of Eomer; and we knew naught of her riding until this hour, and greatly we rue it.’

Then the prince, seeing her beauty, though her face was pale and cold, touched her hand as he bent to look more closely on her. ‘Men of Rohan!’ he cried. ‘Are there no leeches among you? She is hurt, to the death maybe, but I deem that she yet lives.’ And he held the bright-burnished vambrace that was upon his arm before her cold lips, and behold! a little mist was laid on it, hardly to be seen…

Out of dark to the day's rising

Stern now was Eomer’s mood, and his mind was clear again. He let blow the horns to rally all men to his banner that could come thither; for he thought to make a great shield-wall at the last, and stand, and fight there on foot until all fell, and do deeds of song on the fields of Pelennor, though no man be left in the West to remember the King of the Mark. So he rode to a green hillock and there set his banner, and the White Horse ran rippling in the wind.

Out of doubt, out of dark to the day's rising
I came singing in the sun, sword unsheathing.
To hope's end I rode and to heart's breaking:
Now for wrath, now for ruin and a red nightfall!

These staves he spoke, yet he laughed as he said them. For once more lust of battle was upon him; and he was still unscathed, and he was young, and he was king: the lord of a fell people. And lo! even as he laughed at despair he looked out again on the black ships, and he lifted up his sword to defy them.

And then wonder took him, and great joy; and he cast his sword up in the sunlight and sang as he caught it. And all eyes followed his gaze, and behold! upon the foremost ship a great standard broke, and the wind displayed it as she turned toward the Harlond. There flowered a White Tree, and that was for Gondor; but Seven Stars were about it, and a high crown above it, the signs of Elendil that no lord had borne for years beyond count. And the stars flamed in the sunlight, for they were wrought with gems by Arwen, daughter of Elrond; and the crown was bright in the morning, for it was wrought of mithril and gold. The king!

Out of the paths of the dead

Thus came Aragorn son of Arathorn, Elessar, Isilur’s heir, out of the Paths of the Dead, borne upon a wind from the Sea to the kingdom of Gondor; and the mirth of the Rohirrim was a torrent of laughter and a flashing of swords, and the joy and wonder of the City was a music of trumpets and the ringing of bells. But the hosts of Mordor were seized with bewilderment, and a great wizardry it seemed to them that their own ships should be filled with their foes; and a black dread fell upon them, knowing that the tides of fate had turned against them and their doom was at hand.

Let us avenge it, ere we speak of it

And so at length Eomer and Aragorn met in the midst of the battle, and they leaned on their swords and looked at one another and were glad.

‘Thus we meet again, though all the host of Mordor lay between us,’ said Aragorn. ‘Did I not say so at the Hornburg?’

‘So you spoke,’ said Eomer, ‘but hope oft deceives, and I knew not then that you were a man foresighted. Yet twice blessed is help unlooked for, and never was a meeting of friends more joyful.’ And they clasped hand in hand. ‘Nor indeed more timely,’ said Eomer. ‘You come none too soon, my friend. Much loss and sorrow has befallen us.’

‘Then let us avenge it, ere we speak of it!’ said Aragorn, and they rode back to battle together.

The Houses of Healing

She lies within and is not dead

Eomer said, ‘Where is the Lady Eowyn, my sister; for surely she should be lying beside the king, and in no less honor? Where have they bestowed her?

And Imrahil said, ‘But the Lady Eowyn was still living when they bore her hither. Did you not know?’

Then hope unlooked-for came so suddenly to Eomer’s heart, and with it the bite of fear and care renewed, that he said no more, but turned and went swiftly from the hall; and the Prince followed him. And when they came forth evening had fallen and many stars were in the sky. And there came Gandalf on foot and with him one cloaked in grey; and they met before the doors of the Houses of Healing. And they greeted Gandalf and said: ‘We seek the Steward, and men say that he is in this House. Has any hurt befallen him? And the Lady Eowyn, where is she?’

And Gandalf answered, ‘She lies within and is not dead, but is near death…’ And they were filled with fear and wonder at the tale that he told.

But Imrahil said, ‘So victory is shorn of gladness, and it is bitter bought…’ ‘Shall we not send now for the Lord Aragorn?’

And the cloaked man spoke and said, ‘He is come.’ And they saw that as he stepped into the light of the lantern by the door that it was Aragorn, wrapped in the grey cloak of the Lorien above his mail, and bearing no other token than the green stone of Galadriel…

Then Gandalf said, ‘Let us not stay at the door, for the time is urgent. Let us enter! For it is only in the coming of Aragorn that any hope remains for the sick that lie in the House. Thus spake Ioreth, wise-woman of Gondor: The hands of the king are the hands of a healer, and so shall the rightful king be known.’

The hands of the king

Aragorn came to Eowyn and said: ‘Here is a grievous hurt and a heavy blow. The arm that was broken has been tended with due skill, and it will mend in time, if she has the strength to live; but the chief evil comes through the sword-arm. In that there now seems no life, although it is unbroken.

‘Alas! For she was pitted against a foe beyond the strength of her mind or body. And those who take a weapon to such enemy must be sterner than steel, if the very shock shall not destroy them. It was…doom that set her in his path. For she is a fair maiden, fairest lady of a house of queens…

Then Aragorn stooped and looked in her face, and it was indeed white as a lily, cold as frost, and hard as graven stone. But he bent and kissed her on the brow, and called her softly, saying:

‘Eowyn Eomund’s daughter, awake! For your enemy has passed away!’

She did not stir, but now she began again to breathe deeply, so that her breast rose and fell beneath the white linen of the sheet. Once more Aragorn bruised two leaves of athelas and cast them into steaming water; and he laved her brow with it, and her right arm lying cold and nerveless on the coverlet.

Then, whether Aragorn had indeed some forgotten power of the Westernesse, or whether it was but his words of the Lady Eowyn that wrought on them, as the sweet influence of the herb stole about the chamber it seemed to those who stood by that a keen wind blew through the window, and it bore no scent, but was an air wholly fresh and clean and young, as if it had not been before breathed by any living thing and came new-made from snowy mountains high beneath a dome of stars, or from shores of silver far away washed by seas of foam.

‘Awake, Eowyn, Lady of Rohan!’ said Aragorn again, and he took her right hand in his and felt it warm with life returning. ‘Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed clean!’

Your watch hath not been in vain

Sing now, ye people of the Tower of Anor,
for the Realm of Sauron is ended for ever,
and the Dark Tower is thrown down.

Sing and rejoice, ye people of the Tower of Guard,
for your watch hath not been in vain,
and the Black Gate is broken,
and your King hath passed through,
and he is victorious.

Sing and be glad, all ye children of the West,
for your King shall come again,
and he shall dwell among you
all the days of your life.

And the Tree that was withered shall be renewed,
and he shall plant it in the high places,
and the City shall be blessed.

Sing all ye people!

Sing, all ye people!

God is not boring!

I recently remarked to a friend that following God is never boring. And she agreed: kingdom life is a wild and wonderful dance, challenging, yes! -- utterly challenging sometimes -- but never boring!

However, many people live between inner anxiety and boredom, anxiety and boredom… and attendant escapism. Most people spend their lives running from their true self, not knowing why.

Humans are instinctively afraid of God breaking into their lives. For when God breaks in, we see not only God, but our true self… and that is disturbing. In seeing true self, we are not happy serving serve false self. And, in such acceptance of God, we lose false control. And we are most comfortable with control!

So we flee the divine encounter. But we then live in unstated boredom, disconnected from vital life… and unconsciously anxious over the lack.

Of course we can’t admit boredom or anxiety!

But it can be seen in any number of ways that humans manage inner pain…calculated risk, adrenaline rush, masking behavior, numbing chemicals and endless activity.

Not far from my PA home is a bridge in WV, the [second] highest bridge in the US. It is an imposing sight, tucked between two mountain ranges, spanning vast height. People have died bungee/chute jumping from this bridge, but others are still compelled to make the jump. One girl from near my hometown usually made the pilgrimage to this bridge, to jump once a year. An intelligent girl, very beautiful… but driven to risk the jump: “Why?” I asked myself. I looked over the edge of that bridge and asked, “Why?” As I’ve grown in understanding, I think I see the answer.

It’s a human issue.

Without this dance of abundant life, without embracing God and our true self, we live our lives between boredom and anxiety. We have to risk our lives [moderately, of course!] to prove that we are alive. But after the jump, after the ride, after the scare, after the thrill, after the entertainment, when the money is spent and the adrenaline wears off, anxiety is still rooted deep within, and boredom creeps around the soul. The false self still lurks.

I’ve seen this even in religious ways, where Christians use such things as the Bible to hold God at arms length. Other good people use family, church, tradition and service of God to manage God: they can’t be ‘happy’ hearing of true self, and present reality, so they close off those voices any way they can – even if it takes ‘buying off’ God and conscience in good activity.

Brian Stoffregan tells a Jewish tale of stale life – how even learning, education and erudition can be used to ‘manage’ God.

A Jewish Story: Stale Ancestors -- Stale Learning

Usually the orthodox rabbis of Europe boasted distinguished rabbinical genealogies, but Rabbi Yechiel of Ostrowce was an exception. He was the son of a simple baker and he inherited some of the forthright qualities of a man of the people.

Once, when a number of rabbis had gathered at some festivity, each began to boast of his eminent rabbinical ancestors. When Rabbi Yechiel's turn came, he replied gravely, "In my family, I'm the first eminent ancestor."

His colleagues were shocked by this piece of impudence, but said nothing. Immediately after, the rabbis began to expound Torah. Each one was asked to hold forth on a text culled from the sayings of one of his distinguished rabbinical ancestors.

One after another the rabbis delivered their learned dissertations. At last it came time for Rabbi Yechiel to say something. He arose and said, "My masters, my father was a baker. He taught me that only fresh bread was appetizing and that I must avoid the stale. This can also apply to learning."

And with that Rabbi Yechiel sat down.

Thank you, Rabbi Yechiel!

To be true, we must flee the stale, the managed, the contrived: the false thrill of false self.

For God is not boring.

He is alive. He is here. He is making demands of our true self.

And we must respond.

C. S. Lewis makes the strong point that we are all about God if we can manage Him. But when it comes to the place where God manages us, finds us, reveals Himself and our true self, we turn away.

It is always shocking to meet life where we thought we were alone. "Look out!" we cry, "It’s alive." And therefore this is the very point at which so many draw back – I would have done so myself if I could – and proceed no further with Christianity. An "impersonal God" -- well and good. A subjective God of beauty, truth and goodness, inside our own heads -- better still. A formless, life-force surging through us, a vast power which we can tap -- best of all. But God Himself, alive, pulling at the other end of the cord, perhaps approaching at an infinite speed, the hunter, king, husband -- that is quite another matter. There comes a moment when the children who have been playing at burglars hush suddenly: was there a real footstep in the hall? There comes a moment when people who have been dabbling in religion…suddenly draw back. Supposing we really found Him? We never meant it to come to that! Worse still, supposing He had found us? [2]

Supposing He has found us?

All we can do is turn to face our divine Adversary, and find in the facing that He is not against our true self at all, but speaking death to our false self.

In facing Him we find ourselves, and gradually lose the urges of false control and false life.

In facing Him we risk all -- all we can conceive or imagine -- and yet find real thrill in return: distilled droplets of the Eternal that last forever.

For God is not boring!

God is Life!

Alleluia!

Amen.

Eagle over New River
_______________________

[1] A Jewish Story: Stale Ancestors -- Stale Learning [from A Treasury of Jewish Folklore: Stories, Traditions, Legends, Humor, Wisdom and Folk Songs of the Jewish People, Edited by Nathan Ausubel, p 51.]

[2] C. S. Lewis, Miracles, Chapter 11.