The gritty side of spirituality

Then Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. When he saw that he had not prevailed against him, he touched the socket of his thigh; so the socket of Jacob’s thigh was dislocated while he wrestled with him. Then he said, “Let me go, for the dawn is breaking.” But he said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.” So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” He said, “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel; for you have striven with God and with men and have prevailed.” Then Jacob asked him and said, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And he blessed him there. So Jacob named the place Peniel, for he said, “I have seen God face to face, yet my life has been preserved.” 

(Genesis 32:24-30) 

This passage has been one of the constants in a year of uncertainty. In the nights of exasperated prayer, I've felt exactly like Jacob as my will went to battle against God's. Slowly, I'm learning not to trust what I want anymore. It's being fixated on a brushstroke in the painting only God sees.

The thing about 2014 is that these battles have followed one another closely by the heels. I move on from one situation and all the sudden something new shows up. The night is getting long and Jacob's exhaustion is tangible. It becomes tempting to quit. But the striking thing about this story is that Jacob refused to give in until he received a blessing.

Obedience to God is not a passive activity. Christ alludes to this in His story of the widow and the judge. We need to present God with His promises until we recognize them in our lives. Not because God is a detached bureaucrat in the cosmic DMV who needs constant nagging to accomplish anything; instead, our perseverance builds our reliance on Him. Two and a half years ago, I realized my dad was going to die. By far, the intensity of that situation trumps everything I have gone through since. But God brought me through it. Sometimes, God's will is going to be terrifying. What makes us survive is holding Him to His promises; confidence in His faithfulness is the only antidote to our doubts.

I can't explain why taking my dad from me so prematurely is the wisest plan for my life. It's a question I struggle with every day, and one I probably will never find an answer to this side of eternity. The dark providences of life can seem to be utterly irrational. But what I'm learning, painfully, is that God's plan is always  better than my own. The great thing about losing to God is that it's actually winning. In the minor trials I've been through, it's only when I admitted defeat that God unveils more of the picture and I see how foolish any other alternative would have been. During the clash of wills, God was the one who had my best interests in mind. Not me. God has been faithful to me in the trials that I can explain, and because of this, I know He will remain by my side in the the ones that defy reason.

"And He went a little beyond them, and fell on His face and prayed, saying, 'My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from Me; yet not as I will, but as You will.'" (Matthew 26:39)

After darkness, Light

“Awake, sleeper,
And arise from the dead,
And Christ will shine on you.” 

(Ephesians 5:14) 

The interesting thing about this verse, besides its beauty, is its context. Paul is in the middle of a discussion of the new life in Christ, urging Christians to reject the darkness of what the world has to offer, when he inserts this bit of poetry. He's throwing us back to what Christ has done for us in salvation. In the grand language of redemption, our sanctification echoes our regeneration. Every day we need to be roused from the slumber of sin and complacency to experience the glory of Christ.

There is such a depth to the theology of sanctification. It has nothing to do with proving our worthiness to God. It's expressing our gratitude. It's telling the world the story of our salvation. It's anticipating our future, and the last time we will ever arise from a slumber.

Our lives are to be living pictures of the work Christ has done, continues to do, and promises to perfect, in our souls. God is still glorified each time we spiritually jolt awake and realize we have been lazy in our walks; His grace shines in the mercy of waking us up.

Kind of hits home.

The hole in my holiness

Kevin DeYoung:

The hole in our holiness is that we don't really care much about it. Passionate exhortation to pursue gospel-driven holiness is barely heard in most of our churches. It's not that we don't talk about sin or encourage decent behavior. Too many sermons are basically self-help seminars on becoming a better you. That's moralism and it's not helpful. Any gospel which says only what you must do and never announces what Christ has done is no gospel at all. So I'm not talking about getting beat up every Sunday for watching SportsCenter and driving an SUV. I'm talking about the failure of Christians, especially younger generations and especially those most disdainful of "religion" and "legalism," to take seriously one of the great aims of our redemption and one of the required evidences for eternal life - our holiness. 

J.C. Ryle, a nineteenth-century Bishop of Liverpool, was right: 'We must be holy, because this is one grand end and purpose for which Christ came into the world....Jesus is a complete Savior. He does not merely take away the guilt of a believer's sin, he does more - he breaks its power (1 Pet. 1:2; Rom. 8:29; Eph. 1:4; 2 Tim. 1:9; Heb. 12:10).' My fear is that as we rightly celebrate, and in some quarters rediscover, all that Christ has saved us from, we are giving little thought and making little effort concerning all that Christ has saved us to. Shouldn't those most passionate about the gospel and God's glory also be those most dedicated to the pursuit of godliness? I worry that there is an enthusiasm gap and no one seems to mind.

(The Hole in Our Holiness, pp. 10-11)

This has been weighing heavily on my mind recently. Ever since I started college, there has been a tension between what I have always believed and what I am surrounded by. In the first two years, I've tried to negotiate how I can reconcile the two, and most of the time it's ended up with me just fumbling my way through. This summer it became obvious that I needed to put my money where my mouth is, and decide once and for all in what direction my life is headed. God used several friends to remind me of the beauty of what I believe and has mercifully renewed my love for my heritage. I'm seeing how much I have undervalued these relationships in favor of others that are less edifying. It's scary to think how easily I could have lost what I have spent the last ten years of my life building.

 

Looking back, I'm seeing that in these last two years, my walk with God has been mainly just coasting. In the business of college-dom, I've become distracted from the end goal: To love God and serve his people. Sin has begun to lose some of its ugliness. Holiness has gotten a little...dorky.

 

If sin is no big deal, neither is the Gospel.

 

I don't want to be complacent anymore. I'm done with talking about loving God instead of actually loving Him. My faith without works is dead.

When shall we know thee as we ought,
And fear, and love, and serve aright!
When shall we, out of trial brought,
Be perfect in the land of light!
Lord, may we day by day prepare
To see thy face, and serve thee there.

The Pearl

MATTHEW xiii

I know the ways of learning; both the head

And pipes that feed the press, and make it run;

What reason hath from nature borrowed,

Or of itself, like a good huswife, spun

In laws and policy; what the stars conspire,

What willing nature speaks, what forc'd by fire;

Both th'old discoveries and the new-found seas,

The stock and surplus, cause and history;

All these stand open, or I have the keys:

         Yet I love thee.

I know the ways of honour; what maintains

The quick returns of courtesy and wit;

In vies of favours whether party gains

When glory swells the heart and moldeth it

To all expressions both of hand and eye,

Which on the world a true-love-knot may tie,

And bear the bundle wheresoe'er it goes;

How many drams of spirit there must be

To sell my life unto my friends or foes:

         Yet I love thee.

I know the ways of pleasure; the sweet strains

The lullings and the relishes of it;

The propositions of hot blood and brains;

What mirth and music mean; what love and wit

Have done these twenty hundred years and more;

I know the projects of unbridled store;

My stuff is flesh, not brass; my senses live,

And grumble oft that they have more in me

Than he that curbs them, being but one to five:

         Yet I love thee.

I know all these and have them in my hand;

Therefore not seeled but with open eyes

I fly to thee, and fully understand

Both the main sale and the commodities;

And at what rate and price I have thy love,

With all the circumstances that may move.

Yet through the labyrinths, not my grovelling wit,

But thy silk twist let down from heav'n to me

Did both conduct and teach me how by it

         To climb to thee.

George Herbert

8am redemption

So today is Wednesday. I do not like Wednesdays. Up until this semester, they were never offensive to my delicate sensibilities, but this Fall.....whew. My schedule blew up and I am running around from one place to another from 8-5 before I meander back home to go to church. Somewhere I fit all my homework in. Oh my, it's a party.

 

This morning I was radiating joy, what with running late to school and panicking about an exam I had not studied for in a class by a famously difficult professor in a department where blow-off classes do not exist (HISTORY ALWAYS AND FOREVER BABY!!!). The day did not bode well.

 

But then it happened.

 

It was the end of Art History and we had just been discussing this sculpture. The key thing to understand about this period of Greek art is that they had apparently just discovered the smile, and naturally they overdid it and tacked one onto EVERYBODY. Think I'm exaggerating? Just google "Archaic Smile."



My apologies for the naked man, I know this is a family-friendly blog



I think this short exchange just about sums up the class's appreciation for the glory that is this piece of art:

Prof: "What does it look like is happening to him?"

Class: "Dying."

Prof: "How does he feel about it?"

My friend Bethany: "Fabulous."

Anyway, as if this could not be improved upon, within the last minutes of class, I sensed my professor was beginning to feel conflicted about something. After a few moments of consideration, she announced, "Ah, what the heck, we have time. This sculpture reminds me of a video. Have you guys ever seen the worst movie death scene ever?" What followed was the best 68 seconds of class I have yet experienced.

 

 

You'll thank me later.

On Beatrice Portinari

 

Beyond the widest of the circling spheres
A sigh which leaves my heart aspires to move.
A new celestial influence which Love
Bestows on it by virtue of his tears
Impels it ever upwards. As it nears
Its goal of longing in the realms above
The pilgrim spirit sees a vision of
A soul in glory whom the host reveres.
Gazing at her, it speaks of what it sees
In subtle words I do not comprehend
Within my heart forlorn which bids it tell.
That noble one is named, I apprehend,
For frequently it mentions Beatrice;
This much, beloved ladies, I know well. 

Dante, La Vita Nuova, Sonnet 25

The story of Dante and Beatrice at first glance does not seem like a very appealing romance. The two characters never get around to developing a deep, emotional relationship. In fact, it may have even been one-sided on Dante's part. And it has a tragic ending when Beatrice dies at the age of 24 after having married somebody else. Not exactly satisfying.

 

At the same time, it is one of my favorite love stories. Dante was prevented from ever actualizing his love for Beatrice, but he still considered it the most significant relationship of his life. He never lost sight of her beauty. Not because she was a lovely person in and of herself (although I'm sure she was); instead, Dante saw mirrored in his human love for Beatrice the divine love of God. He went on to flesh this out in the Divine Comedy as he makes his journey from Hell to Heaven to be reunited with Beatrice as she leads him to the presence of God Himself. As they travel through the heavens, her beauty increases as they move closer to Christ.

 

While much of this is clearly allegory, the thing that makes it so forceful for me is how deeply it echoes reality. It wasn't till I was in college and witnessed the dating frenzy myself that I realized just how powerful a girl's influence is over a guy. The stories of Solomon and David being brought down by the women they fell for have acquired a very poignant edge as I've now watched it happen before my eyes. I've also seen how much good a godly girl is able to accomplish through her influence on a young man (even when romantic interest isn't a factor). Beatrice was not afraid to call Dante out when he failed. She maintained a high level of intelligence and self-respect. She was also a kind, gracious individual. She challenged Dante. I think as girls, we tend to underestimate just how important these qualities are in our relationships with guys, be it brother, friend, or partner.

 

In contrast with our culture's abysmally-low expectations, we should appreciate how beautiful it is when people point one another to Christ in their relationships. There's a reason the Bible describes the relationship between Christ and the Church in the language of marriage. Divine love makes human love more beautiful, and human love offers a deeper understanding of divine love.

 

This summer, I came across this sonnet by John Donne which completely reminded me of Dante's view of Beatrice. What a legacy.

Since she whom I loved hath paid her last debt
To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead,
And her soul early into heaven ravishèd,
Wholly on heavenly things my mind is set.
Here the admiring her my mind did whet
To seek thee, God; so streams do show the head;
But though I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed,
A holy thirsty dropsy melts me yet.
But why should I beg more love, whenas thou
Dost woo my soul, for hers offering all thine:
And dost not only fear lest I allow
My love to saints and angels, things divine,
But in thy tender jealousy dost doubt
Lest the world, flesh, yea, devil put thee out.

John Donne, Holy Sonnet 17

A quick aesthetic rant

I'm starting to get a little impatient with the people who automatically dismiss a work of art as soon as they hear it is religious. They associate "Christian art" with "bad art." I'm also impatient with the "Christian artists" whose low standards perpetuate the stereotype.

 

Time to revisit the expectations we used to hold ourselves to.

 

Christian Art

 

Christian Art

 

Christian Art

On reading the great books

One of the most beautiful passages on literature that has crossed my path.

"I had an idea that a Man might pass a very pleasant life in this manner - Let him on a certain day read a certain page of full Poesy or distilled Prose, and let him wander with it, and muse upon it, and reflect from it, and bring home to it, and prophesy upon it, and dream upon it: until it becomes stale - But when will it do so? Never..." 

Keats

The greatness that is Shakespeare

For every person who asks why I still bother to read him:

"Shakespeare is above all writers, at least above all modern writers, the poet of nature; the poet that holds up to his readers a faithful mirror of manners and of life. His characters are not modified by the customs of particular places, unpracticed by the rest of the world; by the peculiarities of studies or professions, which can operate but upon small numbers; or by the accidents of transient fashions or temporary opinions: they are the genuine progeny of common humanity, such as the world will always supply, and observation will always find. His persons act and speak by the influence of those general passions and principles by which all minds are agitated, and the whole system of life is continued in motion. In the writings of other poets a character is too often an individual; in those of Shakespeare is commonly a species."

Samuel Johnson, Preface to Shakespeare 

Reminds me of Cowper

Alexander Pope:

A little learning is a dangerous thing;
Drink deep, or taste not the Pierian spring:
There shallow thoughts intoxicate the brain,
And drinking largely sobers us again.
Fired at first sight with what the Muse imparts,
In fearless youth we tempt the height of arts,
While from the bounded level of our mind
Short views we take, nor see the lengths behind:
But more advanc'd, behold with strange surprise
New distant scenes of endless science rise!

(An Essay on Criticism, 1.15-24)

Every day of my life.