The Comforting Arms of God

Last night, I read To Heaven and Back: A Doctor's Extraordinary Account of Her Death, Heaven, Angels, and Life Again by Mary C. Neal, M.D.  Dr. Neal and her husband had gone to Chile with some friends for a kayaking vacation.  Her husband, not feeling well the morning of her accident, had decided to wait for the party at the out-take area.  In the meantime, one of the kayakers had gotten into trouble at a waterfall, her craft being hung up on one of the boulders half-way down.  Immediately afterwards, Mary's kayak hit the waterfall and lodged itself under the other boat, face down, with the full course of rushing waters falling over her head and shoulders.  Pinned in her boat, she could not release herself because of the force of the falling water, nor could she release her boat from under the other one.

Knowing she was about to die, she turned to God, asking only that His will be done.  Immediately, she was "overcome with an absolute feeling of calm, peace, and of the very physical sensation of being held in someone's arms while being stroked and comforted.  I felt like I imagine a baby must feel when being lovingly caressed and rocked in his mother's bosom.  I also experienced an absolute certainty that everything would be okay, regardless of the outcome" (p.56).

Reading those words last night brought me back to the moment in late January 2010, when I was standing in my back yard surveying the freeze damage and pondering the work I would have to do that spring to restore the yard.  Suddenly, it was as if a bubble of peace softly descended around my entire body, and I knew for certain that I would not be doing that yard work.  At the time, I thought that meant I was going to die, and my very calm response was, "All right; just give me time to clean out the attic and the clutter so my husband and children will not have to do it."  Immediately, I went inside and started emptying boxes from the attic. 

That incredible peace remained with me throughout the next few months, when I subsequently found out that I had lung cancer, when the surgeon sent me home to die because there was nothing he could do, when he changed his mind at the insistence of the pulmonologist and performed surgery, and when I was in recovery.  I was going through the motions, but nothing disturbed my peace during the entire time.  When the pulmonologist first announced that he thought it was cancer, I said, "Okay."  A few moments later, he said again, "I think this is cancer."  "Okay," I said again.  "Aren't you upset by that?" he asked.  "No," I said, "but my husband will be." 

Like Mary Neal, somehow I knew that whatever happened, I would be okay.  I had the same experience she had of the soothing, comforting, resting-in-the-arms of God peacefulness.  There was nothing that frightened or upset me during the whole time, even when the surgeon told me on the way into the operating room that "the best time to die is during surgery, because you are not aware of what's happening."  I laughed and told him not to tell that to any of his other patients as they were being wheeled into surgery.

Amazingly, I did not even worry about what would happen to those left behind, because I instinctively knew that the same arms that held me so securely would also hold them close.  Unlike Mary Neal, I did not die and go to heaven, but after a few weeks of recovery, I thought to myself, "I guess I'm not going to die; I'd better figure out what else I'm going to do."

Corrie Ten Boom reportedly said, "I hope that I never lose the sense of the nearness of God that was with me throughout my experience in the concentration camp."  When I tell you that this is not an "idea" or a "doctrine," but a physical sensation, I hope you believe me.  "God is close to the broken-hearted, and those downcast in spirit, He saves."  Even before I had had time to hear bad news or become downcast in spirit, He went before me with His shield and His protective peace:  "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me.....Your rod and your staff, they give me comfort....You prepare a table for me in the presence of mine enemies." 

Jesus Calling for Feb. 12 says this:  My Spirit, who lives in you, helps you to think My thoughts.  As your thinking goes, so goes your entire being.

I am convinced that our healing lies in the comforting arms of God, Who embraces us when life threatens to overwhelm and destroy us.  It was not that I was thinking beautiful or "positive" thoughts throughout my bout with cancer; I was thinking practically nothing at all --- just as I imagine a baby being held by his mother is not thinking his way into peace, but just resting securely and peacefully in her strong and protective arms. 

"Hey, You!"

Some years ago, I took a course on the Torah, taught by a Jewish scholar from the University of Jerusalem.  What a wonderful course it was!  On the first day, the teacher asked each of us to comment on what it was about the Bible that fascinated us.  My answer was that I was intrigued by the "Hey, you!" aspect of the bible, from beginning to end. 

What I meant by that was that from the very beginning, God was always "choosing" people -- for no apparent reason -- and that His choosing was always a surprise to the chosen ones.  It was as if I were walking down the street minding my own business when out of the blue someone yelled "Hey, you!  Yeah, you!  Come here!"

God's first "official chosen" one was Abraham, a man taken for whatever reason is not told us from a pagan culture, a man not especially "good," a man like us prone to mistakes and mis-judgments.  He was followed by other men not especially "good:" Moses, David, Gideon, Jacob, Jeremiah, Samuel, Jonah, Isaiah, and in the New Testament, Peter, Matthew, James, and Paul.  God is always choosing people for some reason known only to Himself -- and that includes the entire race of Israel itself. 

What He chooses them FOR is evidently character development and transformation.  First, they have the experience of being chosen or elected, and they usually balk:  "Why me?"  Abraham had to walk with God for many many years before Isaac was born-- the child of the promise. 

God needs people who are usable as instruments of His design.  To begin with, the instruments need to know that they are not alone, not just "doing their own thing," but "chosen" to do God's thing in this world.  The first lesson they all have to learn is "I will be with you."  Someone once told me that God does not need my "ability," but my "availability."  It is those who have no clue as to what they are supposed to do or how to do it that God can use.  "Just walk with Me," He seems to say; "I will show you the way."  Psalm 32:8 puts it this way:  I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; let me guide you with Mine eye" (or alternate translation:  "I will counsel you with My eye upon you."

That is why I am fascinated by the "Hey, you!" aspect of the bible -- people minding their own business and utterly stunned by the call of God:  "Please take someone else!" they seem to say; "I don't know my right hand from my left;" "I don't know how to speak;" "Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man/woman." 

"Yes, I do mean you!" the Lord replies; "I can use you.  Don't be afraid."  It seems to me that all these people are not afraid of God; they are afraid of their own weakness, sinfulness, inability to be faithful to the call.  The "chosen" ones are all quite flawed, as is evident in their stories -- and yet, God's call and His choice are irrevocable, as is also quite clear.  It is not that God likes them better than He does other people, or that they are more worthy than anyone else.  The paradox is that He "...chooses the weak and insignificant things of this world to shame the proud and the strong."  And it often takes us a long time to realize that. 

God's "choseness" is for the sake of communicating choseness to everyone else!  "If He can use me, He can use anyone," is the message.  We lead others to the depth that we ourselves have been led, and if we do not start at ground zero, we cannot help those who find themselves at that level.  "He led me out of darkness into His marvelous light" the book of Peter tells us.

The pattern of "Hey, you!" continues down to our day.  The church itself learns slowly; popes have been slow learners; those in the pews learn slowly that they are "chosen," -- not to the exclusion of others, but to reach those in the back pews, those who feel barely worthy to enter the door.

We have no ability to communicate to anyone else that they are good or special or loved by God until we ourselves have learned it strongly -- and we know it because while "we were yet sinners," we were chosen.  Once we realize that it was not our 'specialness' that led to our being chosen, we can relax and promote the empowerment and specialness of others.  Only the Beloved can pass on Belovedness.

If we do not understand this, if we do not experience it for ourselves, we tend to think of religion as "excluding the unworthy, the impure."  Religion is not the society of the superior ones; it is the gathering of those upon whom God has forgiven and shown mercy, the gathering of the weak and the wounded -- those who can testify from personal experience how God can transform and heal a scarred life.

We were called to be "starter yeast," or leaven in a hurting world.  We are the audio-visual aids that point beyond ourselves to a bigger, stronger reality than our weakness and woundedness:  "I did not come for the healthy, but for the sick," He said.  Not so they could remain sick, but so that in their renewed health and resurrection from the dead, they could proclaim the wonders and the healing love of a God who loves the weak and wounded.

Poverty of Mind, Body, and Spirit

It is not good for man to be alone.  I will make a helper suitable for him (Gen. 2)

 

We are born helpless.  As soon as we are fully conscious (and physically somewhat independent), we discover that we are lonely.  We need other people physically, emotionally, intellectually.  In some ways, we cannot even know what we know without other people -- and we cannot even know ourselves except who we are in relationship to others.

 

The great temptation of Satan in the Garden of Paradise was "ye shall be as gods" -- that is, wise and independent enough to decide for ourselves what is good and what is evil -- to choose for ourselves what is good for us.  "You don't need God," he proposed to mankind; "you only need yourself, if you are smart enough, wise enough."

 

The great gift given to us by Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was His basic assumption that we needed Him, that we were not "sufficient unto ourselves."  "Be strong, be independent, be wise," our world advises us:  "Stand on your own two feet."  And yet, Jesus proclaimed that we would approach God most nearly when we were least like God, when we most needed Him --- Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy-burdened, He said, and I will give you rest.  In the Old Testament, He said, Open wide your mouth, and I will fill it.

 

Mankind's highest, healthiest, most realistic spiritual condition is one of poverty, of need, of total dependence on God.  To know that we are not sufficient unto ourselves is true wisdom: God hears the cry of the poor! 

 

The Scriptures tell us that "Christ became poor for our sake;" He became "poor" in His absolute need for and reliance upon His Father and upon other people.  We see in Him Divine Life operating under human conditions -- He was hungry, and dependent upon other people for His food.  Hence, the "temptation in the wilderness" to turn stones into bread, so that He would not have to be dependent on the Providence of God to feed Him, nor upon the sensitivity, generosity, and good will of other people.

 

He was exhausted by daily life, by the harsh roads, by the crowds and their clamorous and insistent demands; He would fall asleep and stay asleep in the midst of a life-threatening storm until awakened by His disciples.  He had no privacy, no peace; He was constantly interrupted; He had to get up early, before dawn, to find time for prayer.  For our sake, He gave up His independence and became totally dependent upon God and upon other people -- even for a place to "lay His head."  Perhaps that is one reason He so loved to be at the home of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus.  My guess is that they provided for Him a few moments of respite, of peace, of good food, and of the joys of human comfort.

 

It is so good to finally lay down our own sense of independence and know ourselves to be "needy," to be dependent and grateful for our need -- of God and of other people.  Then we can relax, no longer having to put up a strong front.  We can be free to laugh at our own foibles and inadequacies; we do not have to be "perfect," "wise," or "strong."  We can know ourselves weak and helpless and insufficient for most of life's tasks. 

"Blessed are the Poor in Spirit," Jesus said, "for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."  The kingdom is given to those who know their need for God and for others.  Those who have no need for God and for other people cannot enter; they are sufficient unto themselves -- and indeed, this is 'hell,' to be imprisoned in our own sufficiency, and to need no one else.

 



A New Pentecost

Reading the Journals of Thomas Merton, I now know why God sent "A new Pentecost" on the church in the 1970's.  Although I was too young to see it at the time, the church of the 60's was a holy mess -- and, although all the theologians and spiritual leaders of the time knew it, no one had the slightest idea of how "reform" could possibly take place.  Thank God, He knew how! 

It was not to be through a new movement, or a new theology, or a new Roman Curia, but only through the new outpouring of the Holy Spirit on those "little ones" who had no learning or power to reform anything --- just as in the beginning, when the leaders of the church noted that Peter and John were "unlearned men who had been with Jesus." 

To believe in a new Pentecost is to believe in the silent, secret, mysterious work of the Holy Spirit in us as individuals, and in us as the Body of Christ, bringing about in us and for us the whole and perfect will of God for our lives and for the life of the church -- to trust Jesus to do in us the work we cannot do for ourselves, but that He has already begun in us.  This is the meaning of faith:  You will bring about in me Thy Kingdom, and through me, to the world around me.

The church is the vessel of the Holy Spirit in the same way, and to the same extent as, the individual person is -- to the extent that it cultivates and does not neglect the Presence of the Holy Spirit, no matter where it is or what it is doing.  God is the only One who can bring His Kingdom to earth; if His Spirit is not in us, we "build" in vain.

Within the church (any church) and outside of the church, there are those who live and walk with the Spirit of God, and those who live and work with human energy. It is not difficult to tell the difference, for we have been given a list in Galatians 5 of the "fruits" of the Holy Spirit:  love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, long-suffering, and self-control.  Where these are absent over the long run, the Spirit is not present.

The whole purpose of religion -- any religion, Christian or not -- is to provide an opening, an avenue, a highway, for man's encounter with God.  When it succeeds in its mission, people come to know the Living God in the way that Moses encountered Him in the desert, in the way that Hagar knew Him as the "One Who Sees Me," the "One Who Hears Me."  As Jesus Calling says today, "Your main responsibility is to remain attentive to Me, letting Me guide you through the many choices along your pathway."

I wonder how many faithful church-going Christians have never experienced an encounter with God.  I know they are good people, but as C. S. Lewis says, that is not the purpose of religion -- to make good people; there are many good people who never go to church and who claim no religion.  I think Msgr. Giordano said it best when he said, "Jesus did not come on earth to found another religion, but to bring us new life, the Life of God Himself, the Life lived by the Holy Trinity: the communion between the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit."

If he is right, and I believe he is, then that Life can be communicated to us ONLY by the Presence of the Holy Spirit in our lives.  The church is "church" only insofar as she welcomes that Presence and cultivates it among the believers.  Our need for a new Pentecost is new every generation:  Come, Holy Spirit!

The Power of God

Mark this:  There will be terrible times in the last days.  People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash, conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God --having a form of godliness but denying its power.  Have nothing to do with them (2 Tim. 3).

 

But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth (Acts. 1).

 

Recently, our small Bible study group listened to a tape by Joyce Meyers, entitled "The Wonderful Holy Spirit."  In the talk, Joyce mentioned that she had gone to church for years and years and, even though she was taught doctrine about the Holy Spirit, and knew intellectually Who the Holy Spirit is, no one ever told her that she could have "power" through the Holy Spirit.  Even though she defined that "power" as "the ability to live the Christian life," at the end of the tape, several people in the group reacted negatively -- they really did not want "power." 

 

It is unfortunate that we automatically connect the word "power" with "authority" or "control over others," when the power of Jesus Christ, the power of the Holy Spirit has nothing to do at all with that kind of power.  Until we know for ourselves our own powerlessness to live the Christian life, we will not want or appreciate the power of the Holy Spirit.  So many of us believe we can "imitate Christ" when we have no power in ourselves to even know what God wants of us.

 

What we are given through the Spirit is the "power" or "ability" to love as God loves, to see things from His point of view; we are given His character as we yield to the operation of the Spirit within us.  In fact, not only are we not given "power" over others; we in fact are given the "power" to yield to others.  We are given the "power" to be transformed into the image of Jesus, the Image of God. 

 

Once we understand this kind of power, we run to ask for the power of the Holy Spirit to do in us what we cannot do for ourselves.  We want Jesus Christ to be LORD of our lives, to allow Him to direct us in all our ways, through the Holy Spirit.  Someone long ago told me of a doctor who "does not get up and walk around the corner without first praying about it."  I thank God for that doctor, who was the first one to pray over me for the Baptism of the Holy Spirit.  What happened after that prayer was life-changing, not because of anything I did for myself, but for what God did for me through his prayer!

 

Unfortunately, in most of our churches, we do not hear about the power of the Holy Spirit to change lives -- in fact, we tend to be afraid of this "power," just as my friends were afraid of it.  However, in parts of the world where Christianity is not "business as usual," the power of the Holy Spirit is still being manifest today, just as it was in the Acts of the Apostles.

 

Yesterday, someone handed me a book by Afshin Javid, a devoted Iranian Muslim who found himself in a squalid jail cell in Kuala Lumpur.  He and some friends escaped from Iran with forged passports, heading to America and Canada, where they could "tell others about the true religion of Islam."   However, they wound up on a flight to Kuala Lumpur, where they had to wait to be smuggled to the next phase of their journey.  Eventually they were jailed on the charge of illegal migration. 

 

After many months in prison, realizing that in Malaysia there were no 'human rights' and their lives mattered to no one, they figured they would eventually die in that cell.  Javid devoted all his time to studying and teaching the Koran and praying to Allah.  However, one evening, when the others were asleep, a strange spirit approached him.  Previously, Javid had contacted the "Jinn," an alternate spirit world to curse his enemies or to help him in other ways, much as Voodoo works in some areas.  Now, the Jinn was present, but only to kill him -- and he knew it:  In the same manner that I had called the Jinn to hurt others, so also were they attacking me.  Feeling himself being choked to death and gasping for air, Javid called out "God, Help me!"

 

Immediately, he heard a voice in his head, clearly and distinctly:  "Bring the name of Jesus," it said.  As a Muslim, this made no sense to him, but as he was about to die, he grabbed the only rope being offered.  "Jesus, if you are true, show me yourself!" he cried.  Before the sentence was finished, the spirit was gone.  Now, confusion set in --- Why would Jesus help a Muslim? Javid asked himself over and over.

 

I will not give away the "rest of the story," as Paul Harvey used to say, but the book, called As Easy As Drinking Water, is an amazing story of the power of God to reach someone even in the worst cell on earth.  The rest of the book reads exactly like the Acts of the Apostles.  It is available at www.WinePressbooks.com or at 1-877-421-7323.  The back of the book also has an e-mail address for Javid:  www.afshinjavid.com.  Needless to say, I did not put the book down until I had finished it.  I would encourage everyone to read this book, if only to resurrect our belief in the "power" of God to work today just as He worked in the early church. 

 

The only Power I want is the Power, or the ability, to tell others that Jesus is alive and among us even today, just as He was in the 40 days before the Ascension.  His Presence with us today is The Holy Spirit -- and it is just as powerful today as it was 2000 years ago.

Who is God to you?

The reason so many people find prayer difficult is that they often think of it as a sort of St. Vincent de Paul or Ozanam Inn line, where the poor come to request the necessities of life:  "Please help me! I am desperate!  I have nowhere else to turn.  If you do not help me, I am lost!"

Now, clearly, there is nothing wrong with this kind of prayer -- in fact, it is often this very prayer that brings us into the Presence of God and to recognition that He is there to supply what we so desperately need.  It was this kind of prayer that animated people in Jesus' day to come to Him, and once they had met Him, then they could recline on the mountainside to listen to His Sermon on the Mount or His other teachings.

But once we have met God, or once He has met us in our direst need, prayer becomes, in the words of Teresa of Avila, "loving discourse with One who we know loves us."  Mary told the visionaries at Medjugore, "Pray until prayer becomes joy for you."

If prayer would be "joy" for us -- and indeed, it is, more satisfying than our daily bread -- then we need to acknowledge Who it is we are praying to.  Many people never get beyond the vague term "O God...."   But Who is this Person we address as "God?"  Who is the "God" to Whom we pray?

One of the best and most satisfying prayers has nothing to do with requests; rather, it is a loving and peaceful catalog -- I hesitate to say "list" -- of the terms that apply to our God:  O Truth!  O Loving Kindness!  O Mercy and Justice!  O Bending Ear to the cry of the poor!  O Compassion for those who have lost their way!  Blessed is the One who has stooped down to free my feet from the snare!  O my shield and my very great Reward!  Blessed is He who has drawn me from deep waters and rescued me from the enemy too strong for me!  Blessed are You who brought me out into a spacious place and enabled me to stand upon the heights!  You have armed me with strength, and broadened the path before me so that my ankles do not turn! (Ps. 18). 

If anyone does not know where to begin with this kind of prayer, I suggest Psalm 18, not just 'read,' but prayed, slowly and meditatively.  You might notice that in the praises above, there was a shift, almost without my realizing it, from 3rd Person to 2nd Person.  This is the same shift that takes place in the 23rd Psalm:  The Psalmist begins by saying who the Lord is -- his shepherd:  "He makes me to lie down in green pastures...He restores my soul."  The writer speaks of his God in the 3rd Person.  However, within just a few verses, he shifts to the Second Person:  Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me....You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.

This is the natural progression from praise to thanksgiving, adoration, worship.  We do not even notice we have made the shift from talking about God to talking to Him, from describing Who He is to us to thanking Him for Being Who He is to us!  The meditation for Feb. 2 in Jesus Calling says this:  Seek My Face, speak to Me, and I will light up your mind!  When our prayer is seeking the Face of God, miraculous things happen!

This is why God wants us to praise Him -- not because He is greedy for our praise, but so that He can become for us all that He desires for us.  If we do not know Him as "Shepherd," "Shield," "Reward," "Strength," "Goodness and Mercy," "Truth" and "Kindness"  -- then He will not be those things for us.  If we will not read Scripture, we will not have the words and phrases to know God; we will be limited in our prayer life to what other people have told us  -- and often, their ideas are not God at all, but only their ideas of God.  Of course, once we have encountered Him for ourselves, as did Moses, Joshua, the judges of Israel and the prophets, as did the saints -- then, we no longer need "a man [to] teach his neighbor, or a man his brother, saying, 'Know the Lord,' because they will all know me, from the least of them to the greatest," declares the Lord (Jer. 31:34).

I leave today with the reflection from Jesus Calling, which I think can be applied to the different kinds of prayer:

I am renewing your mind!  When your thoughts flow freely, they tend to move toward problems.  Your focus gets snagged on a given problem, circling round and round it in attempts to gain mastery.  Your energy is drained away from other matters through this negative focus.  Worst of all, you lose sight of Me.

 

A renewed mind is Presence-focused.  Train your mind to seek Me in every moment, every situation.  Sometimes you can find Me in your surroundings: a lilting birdsong, a loved one's smile, golden sunlight.  At other times, you must draw inward to find Me.  I am always present in your spirit.  Seek My Face, speak to Me, and I will light up your mind.

Watching the Sunrise

This morning, as I watched the sun rise in all its great glory, I thought about the daily gift of the sunrise and the sunset.  I have heard that people drive from all parts of the country to park their RVs on the coast, just to watch the sunsets in Southern Mississippi.  One couple told me that not even Florida can boast of the kind of sunsets the Gulf Coast offers.  Even our 5:00 news every evening reports on the sunset, showing it as a regular part of the newscast.

It took C.S. Lewis' Reflections on the Psalms to make the connection for me between the rising of the sun and the "law of the Lord," as expressed in Psalm 19, which Lewis calls "the greatest psalm in the Psalter and one of the greatest lyrics in the world."  Unfortunately, that connection is rarely seen, for the use of this Psalm in our church services usually includes only the first 4 verses:

The heavens declare the glory of God;

the skies proclaim the work of his hands.

Day after day, they pour forth speech;

night after night, they display knowledge.

There is no speech or language

where their voice is not heard.

Their voice goes out into all the earth,

their words to the ends of the earth.

 

Even if we did read the entire Psalm, however, it would be difficult to see the connection between the first half of the poem and the second, which begins, "The law of the Lord is perfect, reviving the soul."  As in much modern poetry, the words themselves provide no logical connection between the first and second movements.  In Lewis' analysis, unlike the modern poet who wants us to find the connection for ourselves, the ancient poet felt such an identity between the sections that he moved effortlessly and without reflection from one to the other.

 

First he thinks of the pageantry of the sky and how it shows the splendor of the Creator.  He thinks of the sun, the glory of its rising, and its unimaginable journey from east to west.  Finally, he thinks of its heat, searching out every cranny, from which nothing can hide.  It pierces everywhere with its purity and strength.

 

Then, suddenly, in v. 7, he is talking about 'the law of the Lord," so like the all-piercing, all-detecting sun in its course across the heavens.  The Law is as pure as sunshine; it gives light to the soul; it is clean and everlasting; it is 'sweet." 

 

When the Jewish scriptures speak of the "law of the Lord," they mean much more than what we imagine to be "law."  They are referring to the instruction that comes from God, the guidance for purity and right living, the revelation of God's nature and of His heart.  The Law includes, but does not stop with the commandments; it is what we might think of as "the law of the household" in which we live.  It includes both spoken and unspoken "law," such as kindness, respect, courtesy, helpfulness, etc.  In short, what is expected of all the residents of that house -- the rules of the game, so to speak.

 

Lewis says of Psalm 19 that "No one can improve on this and nothing can more fully admit us to the old Jewish feeling about the Law: luminous, severe, disinfectant, exultant.....As he has felt the sun, searching him out in every nook of shade where he attempted to hide from it, so he feels the Law searching out all the hiding places of his soul."

 

I need to quote at length the conclusion of Lewis' reflection on the Law:

 

Insofar as this idea of the Law's beauty, sweetness, or preciousness, arose from the contrast of the surrounding Paganisms, we may soon find occasion to recover it. [Note: Lewis wrote this well before the rise of Al-Quaida and ISIS, but his words now seem to be prophetic.]

Christians increasingly live on a spiritual island; new and rival ways of life surround it in all directions, and their tides come further up the beach every time.  None of these new ways is yet so filthy or cruel as some Semitic Paganism.  But many of them ignore all individual rights and are already cruel enough.  Some give morality a wholly new meaning which we cannot accept; some deny its possibility.  Perhaps we shall learn, sharply enough, to value the clean air and "sweet reasonableness" of the Christian ethics which in a more Christian age we might have taken for granted.  But of course, if we do, we shall then be exposed to the danger of priggery.  We might come to "thank God that we are not as other men."  This introduces the greatest difficulty which the Psalms have raised in my mind.

 

Having read Lewis' analysis of Psalm 19, it is now very easy to see the connection of the second movement to the first:

 

The law of the Lord is perfect,

reviving the soul.

The statues of the Lord are trustworthy,

making wise the simple.

The precepts of the Lord are right,

giving joy to the heart.

The commands of the Lord are radiant,

giving light to the eyes.

The fear of the Lord is pure,

enduring forever.

The ordinances of the Lord are sure

and altogether righteous....

By them is your servant warned;

in keeping them there is great reward....

 

As for me, watching the sunrise this morning reminded me of the line from Lamentations that says, "...His mercies never fail/ they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness, O God./  The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him,/ to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord."