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Showing posts from 2012

The Faith of Pi

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I was about half-way through Yann Martel's  Life of Pi when I heard it had just been made into a movie.  I had just finished reading when the film was released.  By that point I was curious about what had been made of it, and dubious that the movie could retain the impact of the book.  Two weeks worth of feedback later, my doubts remain.  Though Roger Ebert, whose opinion in such matters I well respect, has reviewed it highly , I've decided just the same not to see the movie until the book has receded further into the deeps of memory. I don't want to be disappointed. It's better to wait until I'll be better able to judge the film on its own merits. The movie trailer I've seen looks beautiful, romantic, and fanciful. The book, though full of vivid imagery and gut-wrenching story telling, was not, to me, a grand scale adventure. Or perhaps I should say, it was  an adventure, but an adventure described as adventure feels to those who really experience it, as

As She Lay Dying

"You're a lecturer. You got that from your father." It's something my mom used to say, usually when she didn't care for whatever it was I was going on about. Never mind that I barely knew my father. Apparently there is a "lecturer" gene, and I got it. Maybe she had a point about the genes, or maybe not. I don't know. But I  was  a lecturer, particularly where she was concerned. I'm a born know-it-all, annoying from birth. And I felt the need to correct my mother often and play the devil's advocate at any given opportunity. Deep down I just didn't have the respect for her that I should have, or a love pure enough to just let her be, to stop trying to "fix" her or set her straight and to overlook her traits that annoyed me to no end. Don't get me wrong. I did love my mother, and as my love for God grew, so did my respect and love for her. She suffered from depression and I wanted with all my heart to see her happy. (I

Raising Horizons

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Raising Horizons (Thoughts' Captive, Conclusion*) I've you've ever tried to comfort someone suffering from depression or anxiety, you have likely found that a few chipper words or fitting Bible verses will not be enough to snap them out of it.  Your best intentions might even have been rewarded with irritation or hostility. I know this because I've responded this way myself a time or two.  Assuming I am not unique in my experience, I will say that those who are suffering emotional distress, whether it be depression or anxiety or grief, are likely to be also suffering, even if only temporarily, from an extremely myopic worldview. Pain has a way of focusing our attention inward, onto ourselves, narrowing our field of vision until it seems that our pain is the only reality that matters. For as long as the black orb of suffering eclipses the light of hope, we must handle sufferers with grace and patience, gently meeting them where they are, guiding them by the hand

On Samaritans and Scoffers

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I know am about to run the risk of being labeled a stick-in-the-mud, but  it's a chance I'll have to take.  There are some things more important in life than humor, and the gospel is one of them.  If I didn't think this was a gospel matter I wouldn't be bothering about it at all.  So here goes. There is a meme floating around on the internet.  It is being passed around and "liked" by Christian people which is, again, the only reason I'm bothering to address this at all.  We Christians are gospel people - or at least that is what we are called to be.  We are not our own. We represent Christ on this earth, so our behavior, even the the act of "liking" things on Facebook, reflects on the message we are here to present to the world. The text of the meme, in case you can't read the fine print in the picture, runs like this: Hi Friend, I just wanted to let you know that some knucklehead vandalized your car by slapping an Obama sticker on

Graced Again

Thanks to Graced Again (and John Calvin of course) for this little gem: “To make this intelligible, we must return to the distinction between flesh and spirit, to which we have already adverted, and which here becomes most apparent. The believer finds within himself two principles: the one filling him with delight in recognizing the divine goodness, the other filling him with bitterness under a sense of his fallen state; the one leading him to recline on the promise of the Gospel, the other alarming him by the conviction of his iniquity; the one making him exult with the anticipation of life, the other making him tremble with the fear of death. This diversity is owing to imperfection of faith, since we are never so well in the course of the present life as to be entirely cured of the disease of distrust, and completely replenished and engrossed by faith…Though we are distracted by various thoughts, it does not follow that we are immediately divested of faith. Though we are agitated a

Spiritual Depression

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Due to an absolutely unexpected (aren't they all?) spiritual crisis, I was recently reminded to re-read a book I read about seven years ago. It has helped me immensely, cutting to the heart of my trouble within the first few chapters and giving me the tools use to combat my out-of-control thoughts. I can recommend it more highly than anything I've written here. In fact, if you struggle with depression, or are in a crisis of your own, I recommend you read this book immediately. This is the first and only book on the subject of depression/spiritual warfare that has ever been of any help to me. It is far more useful than anything I've ever written here (and tempts me to delete all my own writings on the subject!).

To You, O Lord*

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. You are my greatest fear and my only hope. O my God, in you I trust;      let me not be put to shame;      let not my enemies exult over me. Though the thought of you fills me with dread, Still, my heart cries to you. Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame;     they shall be ashamed who are wantonly treacherous. Meet not my hope with shame. Lord, though full of sin and confusion, my heart yearns for you alone,  for your embrace, your smile, your words of comfort.  Make me to know your ways, O Lord;     teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me,     for you are the God of my salvation;     for you I wait all the day long. Dear Lord, don't leave me waiting, fainting and helpless. Lead me, but gently, down paths not too hard  for I am weak and frightened, and it is dark. Remember your mercy, O Lord, and your steadfast love,      for they have been from of old. You

The Mission in the Mirror*

Like David, I groan under the weight of blasphemy and scorn, of assaults on my faith that come day and night,     my adversaries taunt me, while they say to me all the day long,     "Where is your God?" Where are you, God, while they mock?   Should I be oppressed while they laugh with glee? The doubts within echo the atheist taunts,  but meet faith in my heart and cry out in prayer: I say to God, my rock:     "Why have you forgotten me? Why do I go mourning     because of the oppression of the enemy?" As with a deadly wound in my bones...  What if they are right, and there is no You?  Worse yet, what if there is a You, but You don't care about me?  You, my God, are my only hope!   I have nothing apart from You. As a deer pants for flowing streams,     so pants my soul for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God,     for the living God. If  I could just hear your voice, louder than mocking, If I cou

The Long Dark Night

"...they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles..." (Isaiah 40:31a) In spite of the medication the nurses gave her to sleep, she lay awake all night, crying out to God, praying, and crying some more.  Even the pills could not drug it away.  The truth of her situation could no longer be denied.  She was never going home again.  This place was her home now.  She had been here for weeks, sinking into herself, dying. It depressed her: the woman carrying the giant crazy stuffed bird-thing everywhere, even to meals; the hunched  man in a ball-cap wheeling from room to room, even in the wee small hours of the morning, mindless; the rest lined up in front of the nurses' station, waiting for something, anything, to happen; the cold coffee; the dry cake.  Stuck for the rest of life in this hole, waiting to die. Morning overtook the long dark night and brought with it a gift, a friend.  She wept prayers into her open arm

"Why?"

I remember well that age when my children began asking "Why?" Now, I'm not referring to that cute and occasionally annoying toddler stage that little ones go through as soon as they learn that a "Why?" guarantees some kind of response.  At that age, I'm not even sure they understand what they are asking.  I do believe, however, such repeated questioning lays the foundation for understanding logic, and for future decision-making.  It also represents the early stages of understanding that other people are, well, other people. These are the innocent beginnings of a quest for understanding. No, the asking "Why?" I have in mind comes later, and is less innocent.  This "Why?" is asked not to gain understanding so much as to gain an advantage.  This "Why?" is asked with the intent of getting around the will of other person - usually a parent, teacher, or other authority figure. "It's time to do your homework,"  Mom

Jesus, My Joy

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Paul and I feel blessed to attend a church whose pastor also happens to be a violinist with our local symphony . This past Sunday evening our usual service was preempted by our local chamber choral 's performance of Bach's, Jesu, Meine Freude (Jesus, My Joy), and Haydn's, Heiligmesse .  Our pastor would be performing with the orchestra, but rather than just having someone else substitute for him at church, he cancelled the service and urged us all to attend the concert instead.  Then he took the opportunity to give us a lesson in music appreciation, and much more.  He dedicated the Sunday evening service a week prior to walking us through Bach's motet, explaining its structure, background, and rich meaning.  He left us with hearts aching to see such dedication to creating art for the glory of God revived in His church in our times, and really, really excited for the upcoming performance. And, on a geeky note, as a person who likes very much to interact in my own writi

Return from the Stone Age

We've spent the last eighteen days here at Casa Mathers remembering what people did before the internet. This was not intentional. This is what happens to people like us who fail to intuit that changing internet providers is a dance which requires a series of carefully choreographed movements.  Silly us, we thought we could just cancel one and call the other and voila ! Not so.  At least not when your provider is both the owner of your land-line and a major corporation with dozens of left hands who appear not to be on speaking terms with their right hands. Well, enough said on that matter.  It only goes to explain why I have been nearly three weeks longer than usual between blog entries.  You might think I'd have spent all that free time writing, but you'd be wrong.  I found that sitting in front of a computer which is capable of little more than word-processing is about as inspiring as sitting in front of a blank TV screen or listening to a dial tone. (How many of

Standing in the Middle

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"Now standing in the middle has its advantages and disadvantages.  Common sense tends to pull people to the middle of issues, so those standing in the middle usually have peer support.  Those in the middle, however, don't have the luxury of having to defend only a single flank - they get shot at from both sides." - Ric Machuga, In Defense of the Soul, What It Means to Be Human This was only a passing remark made in the book I am currently reading, but it caught my eye because the older I get the more often find myself occupying the middle ground on so many issues. Standing in the middle is what often happens when you give both sides of a matter a fair listen. Both sides usually have at least part of the matter right.  If to the left of you the right hand is correct, you take hold of it.  If to the right the left hand holds truth, you take hold of that. Next thing you know you're standing between the two, holding hands with them both. A happy picture, is it n

Book Talk: Kingdom Coming, The Rise of Christian Nationalism

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But do not overlook this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be set on fire and dissolved, and the heavenly bodies will melt as they burn! But according to his promise we are waiting for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.  2 Peter 3:8-13 " Since all thee things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of p