Well, I didn't post a poem yesterday, so I had to revise the title of this series. :) I thought that might happen! Here's today's poem:
Chanticleer
All this night shrill chanticleer,
Day's proclaiming trumpeteer,
Claps his wings and loudly cries,
Mortals, mortals, wake and rise!
See a wonder
Heaven is under,
From the earth is risen a Sun
Shines all night, though day be done.
Wake, o earth, wake everything!
Wake and hear the joy I bring;
Wake and joy; for all this night
Heaven and every twinkling light,
All amazing,
Still stand gazing.
Angels, powers, and all that be,
Wake, and joy this sun to see.
Hail, O Sun, O blessed light,
Sent into the world by night!
Let thy rays and heavenly powers
Shine in these dark souls of ours;
For most duly
Thou are truly
God and man, we do confess:
Hail, O Sun of righteousness!
--William Austin, 1587-1634
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Monday, December 5, 2011
A Poem a Day for Advent: Dec. 5th
From: In the Holy Nativity of Our Lord God: A Hymn Sung as by the Shepherds
Come, we shepherds, whose blest sight
Hath met Love's noon in nature's night;
Come, lift we up our loftier song,
And wake the sun that lies too long.
Gloomy night embraced the place
Where the noble Infant lay:
The Babe looked up and showed his face;
In spite of darkness, it was day:--
It was the Day, Sweet! and did rise
Not from the east, but from thine eyes.
We saw thee in thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw thine eyes break from their east,
And chase the trembling shades away;
We saw thee, (and we bless the sight),
We saw thee by thine own sweet light.
Welcome, all wonders in one sight!
Eternity shut in a span!
Summer in winter! Day in night!
Heaven in earth! and God in man!
Great Little One, whose all-embracing birth,
Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth.
--Richard Crashaw, 1612-49
Come, we shepherds, whose blest sight
Hath met Love's noon in nature's night;
Come, lift we up our loftier song,
And wake the sun that lies too long.
Gloomy night embraced the place
Where the noble Infant lay:
The Babe looked up and showed his face;
In spite of darkness, it was day:--
It was the Day, Sweet! and did rise
Not from the east, but from thine eyes.
We saw thee in thy balmy nest,
Young dawn of our eternal day;
We saw thine eyes break from their east,
And chase the trembling shades away;
We saw thee, (and we bless the sight),
We saw thee by thine own sweet light.
Welcome, all wonders in one sight!
Eternity shut in a span!
Summer in winter! Day in night!
Heaven in earth! and God in man!
Great Little One, whose all-embracing birth,
Lifts earth to heaven, stoops heaven to earth.
--Richard Crashaw, 1612-49
The eternal conversation or "The universe is a riddle trying to get out."
In my experience, God is not particular about His means of communication. He is willing to use any means that will get our attention. Some of his modes and means are so ordinary and common that we can easily miss them. Some are breathtakingly exquisite, and are there in the artistic forms that mean the most to us, that we are drawn to anyway, and that most particularly express the deepest cravings and longings of our hearts.
In recent months, I have been astonished...again... with how God speaks to us through music, through song. Not accidentally or coincidentally, but deliberately, emphatically, lovingly. Going to great lengths to get our attention, to meet us where we are. Reminding us that He is here, that he's real, and that He loves us. He seems not particular about the instrument or singer of His song. He just uses who is available in a given moment. In the the New Testament, St. Paul states how he is glad the gospel is preached, whether from pure motives or otherwise (Philippians 1:18). He simply rejoices that the gospel is shared. I see this principle at work with the various sharers of the gospel through song. Though many are willing and joyful participants in sharing God's beautiful good news, I'm sure there are many that have no idea that God uses them and others would scoff and deny that there is a God, let alone one that would do such things.
One of my prayers for myself is that God would keep opening my eyes to actually see Him in whatever He is doing in the world. See Him everywhere and anywhere. Open my ears, open my heart. To hear Him, to know Him. As a person, not a formula or set of propositions or just a good idea in my head.
I have been deeply touched, comforted, and loved by his voice in heavenly music of all varieties recently. Sometimes, I simply can't believe what I'm hearing, what I'm receiving. It's so beautiful and so good; it so reaches to the very core of who I am and what I need.
Here are some of my thoughts about God's eternal conversation through song. I do want to qualify my observations by saying, these are my humble personal observations. I never want to presumptuously suppose to speak for God or try to didactically explain His mysteries. There is a danger in over explaining art, in trying to formulaically decode it. I feel that when people try to do this, they cloud and diminish the beauty of the art and miss some or all of the beauty and truth which hang in the very art/metaphor itself. One of the reasons I believe that art communicates something to us that didactic instruction and proposition can't is because art is in essence another language, a language which mediates beauty and truth to our hearts in a way like no other. As soon as we try to explain it, our words fall short to aptly describe and translate its truth. Bearing this in mind, I want to yet "boldly" share some of my musings while still hopefully retaining the proper respect for God's beautiful mysteries, saying what should be said without saying too much. No human being can ever do this perfectly, but we should nonetheless always seek humility when sharing and discussing some facet of God's truth.
I personally have experienced many profound expressions of God's love through all sorts of music, including what some Christians might call secular music. Now this leads into a whole other discussion, but I don't really make the distinction between sacred and secular music anymore. I understand the reasons these terms are used, but I think they can be very artificial and unhelpful labels. I find music to be true or not. It expresses something real or it doesn't. Anything real and true is of God and therefore Christian, whether it uses traditional Christian verbiage, has a particular type of sound, or not. I definitely value, enjoy and worship with much in the realm of overtly sacred music. But I've realized it's not just because of the words of these songs or just because they have a certain type of melody, arrangement or sound; it's because the entire composition works in a way that is ultimately indescribable, other and beyond-itself to speak truth and bring glory to God. So a genuine song is not merely the sum of its parts; it's God-breathed beauty bridging a gap in communication between us and God, resonating in our hearts, addressing our deepest craving for God and his heaven.
I guess I'm still a pushover for a good love story and a good love song. I find so many love songs to be this wonderful, beautiful, complicated mess of expressions of human and divine love. When most people think of a love song, they think of a song about love between a man and a woman. Since this man-woman, groom-bride love is one of the biblical metaphors by which God describes his love relationship with His people, his church, could it not follow that He might continue to express his love for humanity through this living metaphor? And not just the self-apparent love song, could it be that all true and honest music in a multitude of genres is part of His eternal love song and part of our human inquiry into the Real?
Good, and I might go as far as to say, true art is layered and works at more than one level. (OK, I'm cringing a lot to use the words "layered" and "level"--too confining, rigid and structured-- when discussing the mysterious relationship between the tangible and intangible--but they seem the best I can do at the moment. I'm sure others could come up with more accurate and more nuanced words. I also don't mean to suggest that art is simply allegory to be interpreted. I understand that its beauty and value are very much tied up in the very creation that it is, the thing itself, and of course, I believe that art must derive its ultimate meaning and existence from God). Many pieces speak to me at a very literal, human level as well as at an outside of time and space eternal level. I experience reassurance and empathy about my human experience as well as worship and awe that the God of the universe is speaking to me and reassuring me of His love. A song may express something real and true about human experience, love and relationships; it may also express eternal truth, God's love for us or our longing for God. And in the art of it, all of this is mixed up together, not to be dissected apart, or the form falls apart and the truth and its beauty are actually obscured. And besides, all love is from God. Because God is Love. Why are love songs of all varieties, shapes and sizes never going away? Because we can't live without love. We need love for our very soul's survival. We need Love Himself come down to earth. And Love Himself is wooing us.
God sings to us. We're oblivious. God sings. We scratch our heads. God sings to us. We rant and rave, whine, question, beg, plead. God sings and sings and sings.... He always sings.... We wonder if maybe, we might possibly, no-it's-too-good-to-be-true...could it be .....? What if.....?
...A faint note of revelation....
Once we allow ourselves to step out in even our doubting faith and see how big, deep and wide God's kingdom is, once we "taste and see that the Lord is good" (i.e. have a palpable, sacramental experience of his grace), we start to see His world behind, in, above, underneath ours. The walls or curtains become thinner and thinner and we see and hear God beckoning His fallen, yet loved, creation back to Himself. He is talking to us, singing to us. He is behind and in EVERYTHING beautiful and true. It's not just a nice or strange coincidence; it's the God of the universe attempting to draw us into the eternal conversation. To show His love. To redeem us.
The art of music and song has an ultimately indescribable capacity to speak the language of our soul. A language that we can't really identify, yet we fully resonate with and understand when it has addressed our deepest human longings. What a wonder and what a glorious mystery. To be given these lovely gifts that God is here, that He is not silent, and that He loves us.
I have not spoken much here about music's human end of the eternal conversation, but I am very touched by it. People are people, wondering, seeking, floundering, baffled, grieving, mad...in desperate need of grace. The questions need to be asked. Because the world is indeed absurd. Each person must be allowed to ask his/her questions. God is not threatened by these hard questions; rather He receives any honest attempt to talk to Him. He welcomes the dialogue. Because in a mystery that we can't begin to fathom, He seeks relationship with His wayward creation. He can multiply any of our half-hearted puny nods in His direction. He loves us. Do we get it?
He loves us.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few notes:
1. "The universe is a riddle trying to get out." Quotation taken from Lilith by George MacDonald.
2. I most definitely do not in any way consider this a complete essay. It's more stream-of consciousness ponderings. I've worked on these thoughts in bits and pieces for several months, and I just decided to go ahead and post them. I'm sure these musings could be edited, enlarged upon (understatement), qualified, caveatted and so on and so forth in varying degrees.
3. I am not a musician. Oh, how I wish I was. I now wish I had stayed with piano those many years ago. I'm sure it is painfully obvious to any musician who might read this, that I use absolutely no technical musical vocabulary which might have actually been helpful in discussing such a subject. However, this fact might also serve me well in that my lack of knowledge on the technicalities of the subject, testify to the power of music and the power of God to speak to lay people, as it were, through this exquisite form. And what a true privilege and honor for artists/musicians to be God's instruments of so much beauty and truth and have greater appreciation for the nuances and subtleties and all sorts of myriad details and various combinations thereof.
4. Much and maybe all of what I've said here about the art of music in particular, can, I believe, be extrapolated to true art in general, which I pretty much said above. But the reason I discussed music specifically is because I like music. I enjoy it, and particularly, recently, tangibly, yesterday, today, it is a joy in my life.
5. Why didn't I mention any particular songs as examples of my point in this post? Good question. I was planning to, actually, then thought better of it, at least for now. Maybe in a future post, I'll list some particular pieces which speak to me personally. Maybe not. We'll see. It just seemed that in first discussing such a subject, it would be better for writer and readers to each think for themselves about the music that speaks most poignantly to their hearts. To consider individually: those pieces that they like; that they like and aren't sure why; that they really like and know exactly why; that they feel transported by; that they like, but aren't sure if they should; that they feel they should like, but don't, and so forth. It's personal, isn't it? Yet there are overarching attributes of supernatural music, aren't there? It's a delicate balance to illuminate the possibilities of God singing to us, and our singing back, while still showing respect for the metaphor. Anyway, I will say that I appreciate, am inspired by, bowled over by, moved to tears by music in many genres. My musical tastes are fairly diverse, running from classical to classic rock, from hymns to jazz, from folk & country to pop & 80's power ballads (yes, it's true, and I admit it. :) Et cetera..... I'm still learning what I like. Just trying to listen with open ears. It's part of the journey.
In recent months, I have been astonished...again... with how God speaks to us through music, through song. Not accidentally or coincidentally, but deliberately, emphatically, lovingly. Going to great lengths to get our attention, to meet us where we are. Reminding us that He is here, that he's real, and that He loves us. He seems not particular about the instrument or singer of His song. He just uses who is available in a given moment. In the the New Testament, St. Paul states how he is glad the gospel is preached, whether from pure motives or otherwise (Philippians 1:18). He simply rejoices that the gospel is shared. I see this principle at work with the various sharers of the gospel through song. Though many are willing and joyful participants in sharing God's beautiful good news, I'm sure there are many that have no idea that God uses them and others would scoff and deny that there is a God, let alone one that would do such things.
One of my prayers for myself is that God would keep opening my eyes to actually see Him in whatever He is doing in the world. See Him everywhere and anywhere. Open my ears, open my heart. To hear Him, to know Him. As a person, not a formula or set of propositions or just a good idea in my head.
I have been deeply touched, comforted, and loved by his voice in heavenly music of all varieties recently. Sometimes, I simply can't believe what I'm hearing, what I'm receiving. It's so beautiful and so good; it so reaches to the very core of who I am and what I need.
Here are some of my thoughts about God's eternal conversation through song. I do want to qualify my observations by saying, these are my humble personal observations. I never want to presumptuously suppose to speak for God or try to didactically explain His mysteries. There is a danger in over explaining art, in trying to formulaically decode it. I feel that when people try to do this, they cloud and diminish the beauty of the art and miss some or all of the beauty and truth which hang in the very art/metaphor itself. One of the reasons I believe that art communicates something to us that didactic instruction and proposition can't is because art is in essence another language, a language which mediates beauty and truth to our hearts in a way like no other. As soon as we try to explain it, our words fall short to aptly describe and translate its truth. Bearing this in mind, I want to yet "boldly" share some of my musings while still hopefully retaining the proper respect for God's beautiful mysteries, saying what should be said without saying too much. No human being can ever do this perfectly, but we should nonetheless always seek humility when sharing and discussing some facet of God's truth.
I personally have experienced many profound expressions of God's love through all sorts of music, including what some Christians might call secular music. Now this leads into a whole other discussion, but I don't really make the distinction between sacred and secular music anymore. I understand the reasons these terms are used, but I think they can be very artificial and unhelpful labels. I find music to be true or not. It expresses something real or it doesn't. Anything real and true is of God and therefore Christian, whether it uses traditional Christian verbiage, has a particular type of sound, or not. I definitely value, enjoy and worship with much in the realm of overtly sacred music. But I've realized it's not just because of the words of these songs or just because they have a certain type of melody, arrangement or sound; it's because the entire composition works in a way that is ultimately indescribable, other and beyond-itself to speak truth and bring glory to God. So a genuine song is not merely the sum of its parts; it's God-breathed beauty bridging a gap in communication between us and God, resonating in our hearts, addressing our deepest craving for God and his heaven.
I guess I'm still a pushover for a good love story and a good love song. I find so many love songs to be this wonderful, beautiful, complicated mess of expressions of human and divine love. When most people think of a love song, they think of a song about love between a man and a woman. Since this man-woman, groom-bride love is one of the biblical metaphors by which God describes his love relationship with His people, his church, could it not follow that He might continue to express his love for humanity through this living metaphor? And not just the self-apparent love song, could it be that all true and honest music in a multitude of genres is part of His eternal love song and part of our human inquiry into the Real?
Good, and I might go as far as to say, true art is layered and works at more than one level. (OK, I'm cringing a lot to use the words "layered" and "level"--too confining, rigid and structured-- when discussing the mysterious relationship between the tangible and intangible--but they seem the best I can do at the moment. I'm sure others could come up with more accurate and more nuanced words. I also don't mean to suggest that art is simply allegory to be interpreted. I understand that its beauty and value are very much tied up in the very creation that it is, the thing itself, and of course, I believe that art must derive its ultimate meaning and existence from God). Many pieces speak to me at a very literal, human level as well as at an outside of time and space eternal level. I experience reassurance and empathy about my human experience as well as worship and awe that the God of the universe is speaking to me and reassuring me of His love. A song may express something real and true about human experience, love and relationships; it may also express eternal truth, God's love for us or our longing for God. And in the art of it, all of this is mixed up together, not to be dissected apart, or the form falls apart and the truth and its beauty are actually obscured. And besides, all love is from God. Because God is Love. Why are love songs of all varieties, shapes and sizes never going away? Because we can't live without love. We need love for our very soul's survival. We need Love Himself come down to earth. And Love Himself is wooing us.
God sings to us. We're oblivious. God sings. We scratch our heads. God sings to us. We rant and rave, whine, question, beg, plead. God sings and sings and sings.... He always sings.... We wonder if maybe, we might possibly, no-it's-too-good-to-be-true...could it be .....? What if.....?
...A faint note of revelation....
Once we allow ourselves to step out in even our doubting faith and see how big, deep and wide God's kingdom is, once we "taste and see that the Lord is good" (i.e. have a palpable, sacramental experience of his grace), we start to see His world behind, in, above, underneath ours. The walls or curtains become thinner and thinner and we see and hear God beckoning His fallen, yet loved, creation back to Himself. He is talking to us, singing to us. He is behind and in EVERYTHING beautiful and true. It's not just a nice or strange coincidence; it's the God of the universe attempting to draw us into the eternal conversation. To show His love. To redeem us.
The art of music and song has an ultimately indescribable capacity to speak the language of our soul. A language that we can't really identify, yet we fully resonate with and understand when it has addressed our deepest human longings. What a wonder and what a glorious mystery. To be given these lovely gifts that God is here, that He is not silent, and that He loves us.
I have not spoken much here about music's human end of the eternal conversation, but I am very touched by it. People are people, wondering, seeking, floundering, baffled, grieving, mad...in desperate need of grace. The questions need to be asked. Because the world is indeed absurd. Each person must be allowed to ask his/her questions. God is not threatened by these hard questions; rather He receives any honest attempt to talk to Him. He welcomes the dialogue. Because in a mystery that we can't begin to fathom, He seeks relationship with His wayward creation. He can multiply any of our half-hearted puny nods in His direction. He loves us. Do we get it?
He loves us.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few notes:
1. "The universe is a riddle trying to get out." Quotation taken from Lilith by George MacDonald.
2. I most definitely do not in any way consider this a complete essay. It's more stream-of consciousness ponderings. I've worked on these thoughts in bits and pieces for several months, and I just decided to go ahead and post them. I'm sure these musings could be edited, enlarged upon (understatement), qualified, caveatted and so on and so forth in varying degrees.
3. I am not a musician. Oh, how I wish I was. I now wish I had stayed with piano those many years ago. I'm sure it is painfully obvious to any musician who might read this, that I use absolutely no technical musical vocabulary which might have actually been helpful in discussing such a subject. However, this fact might also serve me well in that my lack of knowledge on the technicalities of the subject, testify to the power of music and the power of God to speak to lay people, as it were, through this exquisite form. And what a true privilege and honor for artists/musicians to be God's instruments of so much beauty and truth and have greater appreciation for the nuances and subtleties and all sorts of myriad details and various combinations thereof.
4. Much and maybe all of what I've said here about the art of music in particular, can, I believe, be extrapolated to true art in general, which I pretty much said above. But the reason I discussed music specifically is because I like music. I enjoy it, and particularly, recently, tangibly, yesterday, today, it is a joy in my life.
5. Why didn't I mention any particular songs as examples of my point in this post? Good question. I was planning to, actually, then thought better of it, at least for now. Maybe in a future post, I'll list some particular pieces which speak to me personally. Maybe not. We'll see. It just seemed that in first discussing such a subject, it would be better for writer and readers to each think for themselves about the music that speaks most poignantly to their hearts. To consider individually: those pieces that they like; that they like and aren't sure why; that they really like and know exactly why; that they feel transported by; that they like, but aren't sure if they should; that they feel they should like, but don't, and so forth. It's personal, isn't it? Yet there are overarching attributes of supernatural music, aren't there? It's a delicate balance to illuminate the possibilities of God singing to us, and our singing back, while still showing respect for the metaphor. Anyway, I will say that I appreciate, am inspired by, bowled over by, moved to tears by music in many genres. My musical tastes are fairly diverse, running from classical to classic rock, from hymns to jazz, from folk & country to pop & 80's power ballads (yes, it's true, and I admit it. :) Et cetera..... I'm still learning what I like. Just trying to listen with open ears. It's part of the journey.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
A Poem a Day for Advent: Dec. 4th
Joy to the World
Joy to the world! the Lord is come;
Let earth receive her King.
Let every heart prepare him room
And heaven and nature sing.
Joy to the earth! the Saviour reigns;
Let men their songs employ,
While fields and floods, rocks, hills, and plains
Repeat the sounding joy.
No more let sin and sorrow grow,
Nor thorns infest the ground;
He comes to make his blessings flow
Far as the curse is found.
He rules the world with truth and grace
And makes the nations prove
The glories of his righteousness
And wonders of his love.
--Isaac Watts
A Poem a Day for Advent: Dec. 3rd
Well, it's actually already the early hours of Dec. 4th, but I'm trying....
A Christmas Carol
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When he comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only his mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,--
Yet what can I give him,
Give my heart.
--Christina Rossetti, 1872
A Christmas Carol
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold him,
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When he comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.
Enough for him whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for him whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only his mother
In her maiden bliss
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,--
Yet what can I give him,
Give my heart.
--Christina Rossetti, 1872
Friday, December 2, 2011
A Poem a Day for Advent: Dec. 2nd
Incarnation
How can I talk with you
now that the garden is gone
and my mountain voice has grown hoarse?
My prophets lie in uneasy graves
straining to give a single word
through the battle tramp
that stuns the stars.
But my handmaid has silence in her soul,
the quiet spot where lilies grow
in untrammeled love, dew-fed
by some invisible stream.
She will listen to my heartbeat,
the slow, steady pulse of my long sleep,
the dark womb bed, the wet wall
that veils my eyes from the sky.
I shall lie still and learn the feel of man
firm pounding down at the river's edge
The gentle swish of her garment
cool repose under the willow
the hot bleaching sun
a soft hand against my face
the man's resolute grasp
jostling along the roadway
the door's sudden slam
the long tunnel into starlight
the first man-child wail
I shall use your nouns and verbs,
the sentence half-said,
the halting phrase swallowed
by fear, the sighs and giggles,
the worn-out slang,
the quiet acquiescence.
And when I speak my words,
you shall hear in your hearts
the sound of God talking with men.
--Carolyn Keefe
How can I talk with you
now that the garden is gone
and my mountain voice has grown hoarse?
My prophets lie in uneasy graves
straining to give a single word
through the battle tramp
that stuns the stars.
But my handmaid has silence in her soul,
the quiet spot where lilies grow
in untrammeled love, dew-fed
by some invisible stream.
She will listen to my heartbeat,
the slow, steady pulse of my long sleep,
the dark womb bed, the wet wall
that veils my eyes from the sky.
I shall lie still and learn the feel of man
firm pounding down at the river's edge
The gentle swish of her garment
cool repose under the willow
the hot bleaching sun
a soft hand against my face
the man's resolute grasp
jostling along the roadway
the door's sudden slam
the long tunnel into starlight
the first man-child wail
I shall use your nouns and verbs,
the sentence half-said,
the halting phrase swallowed
by fear, the sighs and giggles,
the worn-out slang,
the quiet acquiescence.
And when I speak my words,
you shall hear in your hearts
the sound of God talking with men.
--Carolyn Keefe
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Poem a Day for Advent: Dec. 1st
I'm going to try posting a poem each day during advent. The poems will be by various writers and selected by me. I may even throw in a few of my own. We'll see....
The Risk of Birth
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.
That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor & truth were trampled to scorn--
Yet here did the Savior make His home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn--
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
--Madeleine L'Engle, Christmas, 1973
The Risk of Birth
This is no time for a child to be born,
With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out & the sun burns late.
That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor & truth were trampled to scorn--
Yet here did the Savior make His home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on the planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn--
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
--Madeleine L'Engle, Christmas, 1973
Monday, September 5, 2011
Listening to the music of what is happening in the wilderness of Nowhere
"The music of what is happening can be heard only in the present moment, right now, right here.
"....To pitch a tent in the wilderness of Nowhere (now/here)...is an act of radical trust--trust that God can be encountered at no other time and in no other place than the present moment.
"To stand stubbornly in Nowhere; rejecting the restlessness that urges us to move on, silencing the voices that entice us into tomorrow, and blowing off the demonic whisper, 'Look busy--Jesus is coming,' is an act of unflappable trust in the presence of God, who dwells only in the unreduced immediacy of what Martin Buber called the 'lived concrete.'
"There is only now.
"Being in the now removes us from endless and fruitless self-analysis. ...[I]n the absence of self-observation, guilt and shame mysteriously disappear. Removed from the sphere of our feelings, thoughts, and analyses, we are free to hear the music of what is happening. Lost in Nowhere, we are found in the infinity of the eternal Now.
"Quite often I find myself dissatisfied with living in Nowhere. Preferring agony or ecstasy to the ordinary and mundane, I try to pump up each moment with gaudy significance.
"[But] It is only through immersion in the ordinary--the apparently empty, trivial, and meaningless experiences of a routine day--that Life is encountered and lived. Real living is not about words, concepts, and abstractions but about experience of who or what is immediately before us."
_______________________________________________________________
The above are excerpts from Chapter 11 of the book Ruthless Trust by Brendan Manning. We recently finished reading and discussing this book at my women's Bible study (a group I've been a part of for about 11 years or so.) Of all the books we've read in our time of meeting together, I believe The Shack and this book have been the stand-outs for me. This is the first book I've read by Brendan Manning, and I hope to read more.
I so respect an honest writer and pilgrim. Someone who describes the essence of the human and Christian experience. Who doesn't try to gloss over the absurdities in life. Who doesn't try to stuff God into a church building or keep Him confined in the physical words of the Bible like a genie in a lamp.
We must let God do His own confining...which He ultimately and astonishingly did in Jesus the man, the Christ...and which I believe He does through moment by moment revelation of Himself.
God is simultaneously willingly confining Himself to our perceptual capacity while also stretching and even exploding the perceived barriers of our world and experience at any and every moment that we are open. Paradoxically, beautifully, God's self-imposed confinement is our tremendous enlargement, our escape. He seems to use whatever means at hand to get to us. If we can stop and be. If we can dwell in this moment, and let it be whatever it is. Not trying to manipulate it because of guilt, expectations (from ourselves and others), perfectionism, what others think, and on and on. We are after all, human beings. Why do we resist the way God made us?
How on earth do we be right now and here? It seems too hard and too easy. It seems a cop-out. It seems like a justification for not doing all that we think we should be busily doing as a Christian. (OK, using any excuse to justify not obeying God is wrong. But even this statement is open to discussion in how one defines "obedience to God". We should probably stick with what Christ said, "Love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself" (Matthew 22:37-40, Luke 10:27). Everything else falls within or is subservient to these two commandments). Even as Christians who profess belief in God's amazing grace...still...we think we must do SOMETHING to earn that baffling grace. We must perform. We must do. We are lousy gift receivers. It just can't be real that we simply say thank you and bask in being loved by Love Incarnate. Learning to be in the here and now starts with a trust that we are really loved, not because of ANYTHING we do, but simply because we exist, because we are, because of God.
Sadly, yet very humanly, a big part of our resistance to living in now and here--Nowhere--is that we don't really believe the happy ending to the story of human existence. We don't believe it; we don't trust that God actually cares. Distracted and befuddled by the frenetic hub-bub and pain of our past and debilitating worry about our future, we are incredulous that God is there, in eternity, in all of his glory...and yet here in this earthly moment in all of His Love. Caring. And loving us. That all of our moments of dwelling in the wilderness of Nowhere will culminate in the Moment Eternal in the high country of Everywhere with the Unknowable, Knowable King of Love.
The too wonderful, crazy, irrational truth is...God is here in this excruciatingly mundane, bleak, ordinary moment. We can not confine Him. But He willingly and lovingly chooses to confine and condense Himself extreme into our ordinary everyday. To infuse our stark life landscape with His heaven. To meet with us. To be with us. To Love us.
We can only hear His music right now, right here.
"....To pitch a tent in the wilderness of Nowhere (now/here)...is an act of radical trust--trust that God can be encountered at no other time and in no other place than the present moment.
"To stand stubbornly in Nowhere; rejecting the restlessness that urges us to move on, silencing the voices that entice us into tomorrow, and blowing off the demonic whisper, 'Look busy--Jesus is coming,' is an act of unflappable trust in the presence of God, who dwells only in the unreduced immediacy of what Martin Buber called the 'lived concrete.'
"There is only now.
"Being in the now removes us from endless and fruitless self-analysis. ...[I]n the absence of self-observation, guilt and shame mysteriously disappear. Removed from the sphere of our feelings, thoughts, and analyses, we are free to hear the music of what is happening. Lost in Nowhere, we are found in the infinity of the eternal Now.
"Quite often I find myself dissatisfied with living in Nowhere. Preferring agony or ecstasy to the ordinary and mundane, I try to pump up each moment with gaudy significance.
"[But] It is only through immersion in the ordinary--the apparently empty, trivial, and meaningless experiences of a routine day--that Life is encountered and lived. Real living is not about words, concepts, and abstractions but about experience of who or what is immediately before us."
_______________________________________________________________
The above are excerpts from Chapter 11 of the book Ruthless Trust by Brendan Manning. We recently finished reading and discussing this book at my women's Bible study (a group I've been a part of for about 11 years or so.) Of all the books we've read in our time of meeting together, I believe The Shack and this book have been the stand-outs for me. This is the first book I've read by Brendan Manning, and I hope to read more.
I so respect an honest writer and pilgrim. Someone who describes the essence of the human and Christian experience. Who doesn't try to gloss over the absurdities in life. Who doesn't try to stuff God into a church building or keep Him confined in the physical words of the Bible like a genie in a lamp.
We must let God do His own confining...which He ultimately and astonishingly did in Jesus the man, the Christ...and which I believe He does through moment by moment revelation of Himself.
God is simultaneously willingly confining Himself to our perceptual capacity while also stretching and even exploding the perceived barriers of our world and experience at any and every moment that we are open. Paradoxically, beautifully, God's self-imposed confinement is our tremendous enlargement, our escape. He seems to use whatever means at hand to get to us. If we can stop and be. If we can dwell in this moment, and let it be whatever it is. Not trying to manipulate it because of guilt, expectations (from ourselves and others), perfectionism, what others think, and on and on. We are after all, human beings. Why do we resist the way God made us?
How on earth do we be right now and here? It seems too hard and too easy. It seems a cop-out. It seems like a justification for not doing all that we think we should be busily doing as a Christian. (OK, using any excuse to justify not obeying God is wrong. But even this statement is open to discussion in how one defines "obedience to God". We should probably stick with what Christ said, "Love the Lord your God and your neighbor as yourself" (Matthew 22:37-40, Luke 10:27). Everything else falls within or is subservient to these two commandments). Even as Christians who profess belief in God's amazing grace...still...we think we must do SOMETHING to earn that baffling grace. We must perform. We must do. We are lousy gift receivers. It just can't be real that we simply say thank you and bask in being loved by Love Incarnate. Learning to be in the here and now starts with a trust that we are really loved, not because of ANYTHING we do, but simply because we exist, because we are, because of God.
Sadly, yet very humanly, a big part of our resistance to living in now and here--Nowhere--is that we don't really believe the happy ending to the story of human existence. We don't believe it; we don't trust that God actually cares. Distracted and befuddled by the frenetic hub-bub and pain of our past and debilitating worry about our future, we are incredulous that God is there, in eternity, in all of his glory...and yet here in this earthly moment in all of His Love. Caring. And loving us. That all of our moments of dwelling in the wilderness of Nowhere will culminate in the Moment Eternal in the high country of Everywhere with the Unknowable, Knowable King of Love.
The too wonderful, crazy, irrational truth is...God is here in this excruciatingly mundane, bleak, ordinary moment. We can not confine Him. But He willingly and lovingly chooses to confine and condense Himself extreme into our ordinary everyday. To infuse our stark life landscape with His heaven. To meet with us. To be with us. To Love us.
We can only hear His music right now, right here.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
This should be interesting
Hi, I'm Andy. I am a reader of many different types of blogs, and over the past almost two years, I have enjoyed blogs about subjects ranging from people's daily life stories to interior decorating and design to various do-it-yourself projects to living a more simple, natural and self-sustainable lifestyle to educational philosophy and methodology to matters of the spirit and heart. I have been reinvigorated in some personal convictions, interests and passions and learned a lot about topics I didn't know much about. It's been good. (Well, it's sometimes a mixed blessing when I'm staying up with the owls and not getting enough rest!)
For quite some time, I've been considering starting a blog of my own. Just wasn't sure what I wanted it to be about because of my varied interests. Not sure I really had the time to be starting a new and potentially time-consuming project. Not sure because in many respects I'm actually a rather private person. Oh, and a host of other concerns too. But I've kept thinking about this new-fangled, hair-brained idea. :)
So...I'm going to experiment here in this place with some thinking, journaling, questioning, idea-storming, story-telling, contemplation, lists of this and that...you get the idea...an eclectic mix of hodge-podge. I guess at this juncture, I won't be able to call this a niche blog, but I'm hoping it might be a beautiful convergence.
For quite some time, I've been considering starting a blog of my own. Just wasn't sure what I wanted it to be about because of my varied interests. Not sure I really had the time to be starting a new and potentially time-consuming project. Not sure because in many respects I'm actually a rather private person. Oh, and a host of other concerns too. But I've kept thinking about this new-fangled, hair-brained idea. :)
So...I'm going to experiment here in this place with some thinking, journaling, questioning, idea-storming, story-telling, contemplation, lists of this and that...you get the idea...an eclectic mix of hodge-podge. I guess at this juncture, I won't be able to call this a niche blog, but I'm hoping it might be a beautiful convergence.
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