Sabbath rest

When I bethinke me on that speech whyleare,
Of Mutability, and well it way:
Me seemes, that though she all vnworthy were
Of the Heav'ns Rule ; yet very sooth to say,
In all things else she beares the greatest sway.
Which makes me loath this state of life so tickle,
And loue of things so vaine to cast away;
Whose flowring pride, so fading and so fickle,
Short Time shall soon cut down with his consuming sickle.

Then gin I thinke on that which Nature sayd,
Of that same time when no more Change shall be,
But stedfast rest of all things firmely stayd
Vpon the pillours of Eternity,
That is contrayr to Mutabilitie:
For, all that moueth, doth in Change delight:
But thence-forth all shall rest eternally
With Him that is the God of Sabbaoth hight:
O thou great Sabbaoth God, graunt me that Sabaoths sight.

(Faerie Queene, Mutability Canto VIII)

"There remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. For the one who has entered His rest has himself also rested from his works, as God did from His. Therefore let us be diligent to enter that rest, so that no one will fall, through following the same example of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.

Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."

(Hebrews 4.9-16)

God's kindness

             If thy first glance so powerfull be,
A mirth but open’d and seal’d up again;
What wonders shall we feel, when we shall see
                                  Thy full-ey’d love!
             When thou shalt look us out of pain,
And one aspect of thine spend in delight
More then a thousand sunnes dispurse in light,
                                  In heav'n above.

(from "The Glimpse" by George Herbert)

I've long been of the opinion that the most vivid lessons we learn in life are those resulting from hardship. Something about the pain searing the newfound wisdom into your memory. Not going to argue against this position, because the proof of it has happened over and over again in my life.

What has surprised me, though, has been how powerful its counterpart can also be - extraordinary blessing. I created what seems to be a false dichotomy in my head, with trials stimulating growth and comfort breeding complacency. Having grown up in the church and never remembering a single, earth-shattering moment of conversion, I've always wondered what that utterly-new, overwhelming sense of God's grace must feel like. I probably always will. Instead, I have the opportunity to find echoes of it in the various cycles of sin and forgiveness, doubt and grace, in my experience of the Christian life.

Lately, I have been overwhelmed with the kindness of God. I purposefully don't say "goodness," because God is good in and of Himself; He would be so even if He never did a single "nice" thing for me. Kindness, though - this is an attribute connected to relationships. In the very issues for which I have given Him the most crap in my life, the things in which I've doubted His inherent goodness, in which I have sinned against Him greatly, He has blessed me with outcomes that surpass my initial desires. I can't wrap my mind around this: I treat Him horribly for withholding things I want (not need), and He gives me better versions of them. It is lavish mercy. Instead of chastisement, He responds with transcendent blessing. He returns evil with good, sin with grace, unbelief with love. What kind of Being is this?

I hate overly-saccharine writing, but every once in a while, you have to praise God in public. So that's that.

On idolatry

For all afore that seemed fayre and bright,
  Now base and contemptible did appeare,
  Compar'd to her, that shone as Phebes light,
  Amongst the lesser starres in euening cleare.
  All that her saw with wonder rauisht weare,
  And weend no mortall creature she should bee,
  But some celestiall shape, that flesh did beare:
  Yet all were glad there Florimell to see;
Yet thought that Florimell was not so faire as shee.

As guilefull Goldsmith that by secret skill,
  With golden foyle doth finely ouer spred
  Some baser metall, which commend he will
  Vnto the vulgar for good gold insted,
  He much more goodly glosse thereon doth shed,
  To hide his falshood, then if it were trew:
  So hard, this Idole was to be ared,
  That Florimell her selfe in all mens vew
She seem'd to passe: so forged things do fairest shew.

(Faerie Queene, IV.v.14-15)

On the frontier

Cole's Course of an Empire: Desolation

But let that man with better sence aduize,
   That of the world least part to vs is red:
   And dayly how through hardy enterprize,
   Many great Regions are discouered,
   Which to late age were neuer mentioned.
   Who euer heard of th'Indian Peru?
   Or who in venturous vessell measured
   The Amazon huge riuer now found trew?
Or fruitfullest Virginia who did euer vew?

Yet all these were, when no man did them know;
   Yet haue from wisest ages hidden beene:
   And later times things more vnknowne shall show.
   Why then should witlesse man so much misweene
   That nothing is, but that which he hath seene?
   What if within the Moones faire shining spheare?
   What if in euery other starre vnseene
   Of other worldes he happily should heare?
He wo[n]der would much more: yet such to some appeare.

(Edmund Spenser, The Faerie Queene, proem to Book 2)

Up until a few years ago, I never considered myself to be particularly interested in space movies. I think it had something to do with the geekiness associated with Trekkies and the cult surrounding Luke Skywalker. However, things changed when I was in college and went to see Interstellar in the theater (maybe I shouldn't be proud to admit this, but I think I saw it 3 or 4 times...I was obsessed). One of the reasons I enjoyed the film that much was because it shares several themes in common with Renaissance literature (one scene is extremely Dantean, when astronauts surmise that the universe is held together by a cosmic love; think the ending of Paradiso, when Dante discovers in God "the love that moves the sun and other stars").

The most significant shared motif between these two eras/genres is the sense of frontier. It's easy to look back at our ancestors in indulgent condescension, chuckling over their awe of the "New World." Those maps are cute. We today, though, with our satellites and vaccines and computers, have taken control over the earth; we've lost that sense of mystery. However, I don't think this is entirely the case, even in light of all the advances we've made. We've simply shifted our frontier to space; Mars and the Moon have become our New World.

The Utopian literature of the Renaissance often situates these made-up civilizations in the neighborhood of the Americas; modern science fiction loves to toy with the possibility of further-developed societies in different galaxies. The angst felt by the early explorers concerning all the unknowns surrounding the Atlantic Passage, "savage" indigenous peoples, and basic survival in an unknown land is echoed in films like The Martian (although isolation rather than hostile natives is the focus of the plot). The romance, fantasy, and adventure that gave rise to quests for the Fountain of Youth, traces of Atlantis, or the city of Cibola carry through into the sometimes-bizarre worlds featured in Star Wars.

Perhaps the most poignant parallel is the shared sense of loss and sacrifice. Leaving the East for the West, most early-modern migrants never hoped to see their homes and families again. Interstellar, with all the relativity and quantum theory that went completely over my head, brought this home to me. The closest thing to it is death (insert all the cliches about it being the last taboo/frontier/etc here). There is a familiarity with loss and mortality in Renaissance literature that I think can be a little off-putting to modern-day readers, coming across as morbid. I don't mind it, though. Perhaps we need our illusion of invincibility shattered, and the Universe around us is more than able to do the job. It's a reminder of our limits, of our humanity, of our dependence on a higher power than ourselves.

Amoretti LXVIII

Reading Spenser's Faerie Queene this semester, and wanted to branch out a bit on the side. His sonnet cycle, Amoretti, is not considered one of the masterpieces of English love poetry, but I've enjoyed what I've come across thus far. This one especially. I love that he bases their love in the Resurrection of Christ. Reminds me of Dante and Donne.

Most glorious Lord of life, that on this day, 

Didst make thy triumph over death and sin: 

And having harrow'd hell, didst bring away 

Captivity thence captive, us to win: 

This joyous day, dear Lord, with joy begin, 

And grant that we for whom thou diddest die, 

Being with thy dear blood clean wash'd from sin, 

May live for ever in felicity. 

And that thy love we weighing worthily, 

May likewise love thee for the same again: 

And for thy sake, that all like dear didst buy, 

With love may one another entertain. 

So let us love, dear love, like as we ought, 

Love is the lesson which the Lord us taught.

The lovely thing about Spenser's cycle is that, unlike Dante in particular, his love becomes attainable. It's a unique choice in the context of courtly love & Petrarch, in which the object of love was always something that remained at a distance, ending in sadness. But Spenser is writing about his wife. I like to think we have Protestantism to thank for this - the relationship between mankind and God became much more personal in the wake of Lutheran and Reformed theology.

I have no other evidence to back this up

Never occurred to me that Paul might have gotten his inspiration from the Psalms.

Psalm 18.30-36:
As for God, His way is blameless;
The word of the Lord is tried;
He is a shield to all who take refuge in Him.
For who is God, but the Lord?
And who is a rock, except our God,
The God who girds me with strength
And makes my way blameless?
He makes my feet like hinds’ feet,
And sets me upon my high places.
He trains my hands for battle,
So that my arms can bend a bow of bronze.
You have also given me the shield of Your salvation,
And Your right hand upholds me;
And Your gentleness makes me great.
You enlarge my steps under me,
And my feet have not slipped.

Ephesians 6.10-17:
Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm. Stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. And take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.

On the promises

"By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was offering up his only begotten son; it was he to whom it was said, “In Isaac your descendants shall be called.” He considered that God is able to raise people even from the dead, from which he also received him back as a type." Hebrews 11.17-19

This passage really stood out to me today. In the past week, several circumstances have led me to think about the nature of faith and how God sometimes asks us to trust Him in ways that seem impossible, or even counter to what He has previously done in our lives. Abraham spent his whole life waiting for a son, nearly giving up on the likelihood that this would ever happen. And then, as we all know, God eventually gave him Isaac, going so far as to guarantee to him that, this is it! Here is your long-awaited heir! This is the point of the story where all of the kumbaya cotton candy Christian books leave off; it's the chicken soup for the immature soul, feel-good message of inspiration and positivity. Because this is what the Christian life is all about: if we just have enough faith in God, He will eventually give us what we ask of Him.

But here's the thing. Right after God promises Abraham that Isaac is the answer to his prayers, what happens next? He asks him to sacrifice him. There have been times in my life, both recent and also in the past, where it seemed like God was doing the opposite of the will He had appeared to providentially reveal to me. Take senior year of college, for example. Everything was pointing to grad school. Relationships were a consistent no-go but my academic situation was pretty stellar; it seemed to be a clear indication that all thoughts of domesticity must be put on hold for a career. It was like you could actually see the doors opening and closing. But then, all the sudden, I got waitlisted. It was a complete shock. Why would God push me in this direction only to pull the rug out from me? It made no sense. Among the (many) lessons God taught me during that bizarre month, I had to learn that I will never fully comprehend His plan, but that it is always wiser than my own. And sometimes it will seem to make absolutely no sense. Those are the moments, though, that define what faith really is; it would be kind of meaningless if it were easy.

Abraham's confidence in God is incredible. The whole idea of being willing to lose what you thought you had miraculously won, of undergoing a double trial of faith, is such a deeper exploration of what it means to trust God. The Christian life is not a Hallmark movie. I want this kind of faith - to be fully confident in God's ability to work out the seemingly impossible; to be willing to sacrifice those things that I hold most closely to my heart; to be certain that God is good and faithful no matter what happens in this life.

Those two kingdoms

Came across this passage that I saved a few months ago. Couldn't think of a better way to express the responsibility we Christians have in the midst of a very troubled/uncertain time in our culture.

"Christians should pursue cultural activities not with a spirit of triumph and conquest over their neighbors but with a spirit of love and service toward them. Far too often Christian writers and leaders imbue their audience with a drive to take over - to take over politics, education, the courts, and whatever else (or maybe it is put in more palatable terms, such as taking back instead of taking over, as if Christians are the rightful owners of everything and are simply reclaiming what is already theirs). The New Testament does call us 'more than conquerors through him who loved us' (Rom. 8:37), and on the day of Christ's return we will share in his visible triumph over his enemies (e.g., 2 Thess. 1:5-10). But until then God calls us to be involved in activities such as education and politics not in order to trounce opponents but to serve neighbors, 'You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you' (Matt. 5:43-44). The apparent enemy is our neighbor (Luke 10:25-37). It is all too easy to demonize those with whom we disagree and seek to vilify them for their sins in order to gain tactical advantage - even though their conduct often outshines our own in many areas of life, and though, if we do avoid their sins, we do so only by the unmerited grace of God. We have been justified in Christ precisely so that we may love and serve our neighbor, for this is the fulfillment of the law (Rom. 13:8-10; Gal. 5:13-14). The New Testament constantly calls us to gentleness, meekness, patience, and humility (e.g., Matt. 5:5; Gal. 5:22-23; Eph. 4:2). If only we were as eager to deal with our own many sins as we are to expose the sins of others whom we regard as our cultural opponents - if only we would learn to take the log out of our own eyes before seeing the speck in another's eye (Matt. 7:1-5). The way of love and service in all areas of culture, not the way of vilification and conquest, is the proper Christian attitude."

(David VanDrunen, Living in God's Two Kingdoms, 124-125)

Love (III)

Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guiltie of dust and sinne.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack’d any thing. 

A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkinde, ungratefull? Ah my deare,
I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I? 

Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, sayes Love, who bore the blame?
My deare, then I will serve.
You must sit down, sayes Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

George Herbert

Eight years

I think I will always be entertained by each passing year that this blog still exists. Here's to eight more.

2016 was rough. It was manageable on a personal level (college grad, whadup!!), but absolutely agonizing as a friend, as I watched many people I deeply care for go through some pretty intense trials. And on a societal level, it was just bizarre. I have a hard time believing anything is impossible anymore. What a time to be alive.

There's a lot of uncertainty in the upcoming year, including several major life decisions I'll have to make. During my college years, which held their own kind of tests and trials, one of the hymns we sang in church took on a lot of meaning for me. It captures the sense of helplessness mixed with faith in the promises of God that seems to become more and more a part of the Christian life. It's become one of my favorites, and something I hope to keep close by as the year unfolds.

Guide me, O thou great Jehovah,
Pilgrim through this barren land;
I am weak, but thou art mighty;
Hold me with thy pow'rful hand;
Bread of heaven, Bread of heaven,
Feed me till I want no more.

Open now the crystal fountain,
Whence the healing stream doth flow;
Let the fire and cloudy pillar
Lead me all my journey through;
Strong Deliverer, strong Deliverer,
Be thou still my Strength and Shield.

When I tread the verge of Jordan,
Bid my anxious fears subside;
Death of death, and hell's Destruction,
Land me safe on Canaan's side;
Songs of praises, songs of praises
I will ever give to thee.