Skilful engine of torture

I’m reading a book called “The Most Famous Man in America” the biography of Henry Ward Beecher by Debby Applegate. Henry grew up in a very strict and severe home, and as I read about it I find myself wanting to run to his rescue.
Let me quote a pharagraph or two.

“Adding to the physical hardships of life in the Beecher household was the heavy weight of orthodox religion. Every day began and ended with family prayers, Bible reading, and hymn singing. Every child past seven attended a heavy schedule of prayer meetings, lectures, and religious sevices in the drafty meeting house, as well as regular religious instruction at school. Undue frivolity was discouraged, so they did not celebrate Christmas or birthdays. Dancing, theater, and all but the most high-toned ficton were forbidden. Sundays were spent in quiet contemeplation---
a special torment for fidgety children.
But this sour picture tells only half the story. Although the Beechers were plain and pious, they were not stuffy or stodgy. They brimmed with high spirits, quick enthusiasm, and an almost eccentric disregard for social conventions. “There is” as Lyman’s youngest daughter noted, “ the strangest and most interesting combination in our family of fun and seriousness.”
Lyman, the father, was truly a rare father. Impulsive and emotional, he was blessed with a “passionate love of children,” as Catharine, the oldest put it, treating his children with “all the tenderness of a mother and the untiring activity and devotedness of a nurse, father and friend. He loved to romp with the kids, and had a knack for making hard work fun--- telling stories as they peeled apples on autumn evenings, making a game out of stacking firewood, and leading them on expeditions into the woods to pick berries or collect nuts or catch fish.”

When I read that I thought that his good nature and love towards the kids would surely balance out the severity of doctrine. But it did not. To a child, they all suffered feeling unworthy and never knowing if God really loved them or if they would be damned.

“The burden of original sin was compounded by the capriciousness of salvation. In the Calvinist universe of the day, salvation was considered a supernatural act, a testament to God’s sovereignty and mercy, not merely a reward for good behavior.
So how would a person know if he or she had been saved? Of course no one could be certain of their fate until they caught sight of the pealy gates, but revivalists like Lyman Beecher believed that the saving grace of God would descend like a lightning bolt, in a moment of intense visceral revelation. If you did not experience the anguish and the crisis, if God did not choose to make you one of his special “elect” then it didn’t matter how good or faithful you had been, chances were you were going to hell. A famous jingle neatly captured the paradox:

You can and you can’t
You shall and you shan’t;
You will and you won’t
You’re damned if you do,
And damned if you don’t.

“Thus was this system calculated, like a skilful engine of torture,” Harriet, one of the daughters, concluded, “to produce all the mental anguish of the most perfect sense of helplessness with the most torturing sense of responsibility.”

When I read the last lines about the skilful engine of torture producing helplessness and responisbility, my heart just bled for those in a belief system like that.
The circumstances of my salvation; where I was in the world and God came into it through secular music and drew me out by opening the word to me, has always caused me to see Christ as my rescuer, and I have had a sense of security all my Christian life. In Hannah Hurnard’s book Hinds’ Feet On High Places, there is a familiar passage that describes my concept of God, I’ll begin the quote where Much-Afraid has been decieved by Pride who has her in his grip saying –

“Come back, Much-afraid,” Pride urged vehemently. “Give it up before it is too late. In your heart of hearts you know that what I am saying is true and that you will be put to shame before everybody. Give it up while there is still time. Is a merely fictitious promise of living on the High Places worth the cost you are asked to pay for it? What is it that you seek there in that mythological Kingdom above?
Entirely against her will, and simply because he seemed to have her at his mercy, Much-Afraid let the words be dragged out of her. “I am seeking the Kingdom of Love,” she said faintly.
“I thought as much,” sneered Pride. “Seeking your heart’s desire, eh? And now, Much-Afraid, have a little pride, ask yourself honestly, are you not so ugly and deformed that nobody even in the Valley really loves you? That is the brutal truth.
Then how much less will you be welcomed in the Kingdom of Love, where they say nothing but unblemished beauty and perfection is admitted? Can you really expect to find what you are seeking; no, I tell you again that you feel this yourself and you know it. Then be honest at least and give it up. Turn back with me before it is too late.
Poor Much-Afraid! The urge to turn back seemed almost irresistible, but at that moment when she stood held in the clutch of Pride, feeling as though every word he spoke was the hideous truth, she had an inner vision of the face of the Shepherd. She remembered the look with which he had promised her, “ I pledge myself to bring you there, and that you shall not be put to shame.” Then it was as though she heard him again, repeating softly, as though looking at some radiant vision in the distance:

Behold, thou art fair, my love; thou hast dove’s eyes.
Thou art all fair, my love, there is no spot in thee.

Before Pride could realize what was happening, Much-Afraid uttered a desperate cry for help and was calling up the mountain.

“Come to me, Shepherd! Come quickly! Make no tarrying, O my Lord.”

There was a sound of loose rattling stones and of a prodigous leap, and the next moment the Shepherd was on the path beside them, his face terrible to look at, his Shepherd’s staff raised high above his head.
Only one blow fell, and then Pride dropped the hand he had been grasping so tightly and made off down the path and round the corner, slipping and stumbling on the stones as he went, and was out of sight in a moment.

So, in Much-afraids temptation she was confronted with the same issue as the Beecher’s --
“Are you not so ugly and deformed that nobody even in the Valley really loves you?”
Of course the answer is yes, but in the Shepherd’s eyes we are “altogether fair and there is no spot in thee.”

The Disappointed anointed

I am somewhat reluctant to post the following poem; It is an old poem and many have read it before, at least in part. I believe it contains a lot of truth, and I think anyone that has experienced thirty or forty years of life can attest to the truths. But I also believe His yoke is easy and His burden is light. So finding the balance between, what seem to be, contradicting truths made me think for a while.
I’ll summarize it by saying that the poem spans years, and when you lay out all the Lord brings us to in one poem, it seems overwhelming. And it would be, if we had to deal with it all at one time; but we don’t.
He meets out test and challenge as we can handle it and as we need it, always to the end of being more Christ like.
Much of the difficulty we face is our own stubbornness, and our unwillingness to submit to God’s ways. But I think there is another piece and that is the tenderizing of our hearts. Without experiencing losses in our life we seem to lack an important sensitivity to the needs of others. The following crudely illustrates the point--

“It would seem that, as some flowers need to be crushed before they will give forth all their perfumes, and as the goldfinch is said to sing the most sweetly
when a hot needle is thrust into its eye, so pain and anguish are the conditions of some men’s success, without which it is impossible to evoke the most brilliant displays of their genius.
It was a shrewd remark, therefore, which a great musician once made concerning a promising but passionless cantatrice: “She sings well, but she lacks something, and in that something, everything. If I were single, I would court her; I would marry her; I would maltreat her; I would break her heart; and in six months she would be the greatest singer in Europe.”

I don’t like the concept but there is no denying in my own life, the difficulties and losses have created an attractive scar.

The poem is long, but so is the process.

When Nature Wants a Man

When Nature wants to drill a man
And thrill a man,
When Nature wants to mould a man
To play the noblest part;
When she yearns with all her heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world shall praise –
Watch her method, watch her ways!
How she ruthlessly perfects
Whom she royally elects;
How she hammers him and hurts him
And with mighty blows converts him
Into trial shapes of clay which only Nature
Understands –
While his tortured heart is crying and he lifts
Beseeching hands! –
How she bends, but never breaks,
When his good she undertakes…..
How she uses who she chooses
And with every purpose fuses him,
By every art induces him
To try his splendor out –
Nature knows what she’s about.

When Nature wants to take a man
And shake a man
And wake a man;
When Nature wants to make a man
To do the Futures will;
When she tries with all her skill
And she yearns with all her soul
To create him large and whole….
With what cunning she prepares him!
How she goads and never spares him,
How she whets him and she frets him
And in poverty begets him….
How she often disappoints
Whom she sacredly anoints.
With what wisdom she will hide him,
Never minding what betide him,
Though his genius sob with slighting and his
Pride may not forget!
Bids him struggle harder yet.
Makes him lonely
So that only
God’s high messages shall reach him
So that she may surely teach him
What the Hierarchy planned.
Though he may not understand
Gives him passions to command –
How remorselessly she spurs him,
With terrific ardor stirs him
When she poignantly prefers him!

When Nature wants to name a man
And fame a man
And tame a man;
When Nature wants to shame a man
To do his heavenly best…
When she tries the highest test
That her reckoning may bring –
When she wants a god or king! --
How she reigns him and restrains him
So his body scarce contains him
While she fires him
And inspires him!
Keeps him yearning, ever burning for a
Tantalizing goal ---
Lures and lacerates his soul
Sets a challenge for his spirit,
Draws it higher when he’s near it –
Makes a jungle, that he clear it;
Makes a desert, that he fear it
And subdue it if he can –
So doth Nature make a man,
Then, to test his spirit’s wrath
Hurls a mountain in his path –
Puts a bitter choice before him
And relentless stands o’er him.
“Climb, or perish!” so she says…..
watch her purpose, watch her ways!

Nature’s plan is wondrous kind
Could we understand her mind…
Fools are they who call her blind.
When his feet are torn and bleeding
Yet his spirit mounts unheeding,
All his higher powers speeding
Blazing newer paths and fine;
When the force that is divine
Leaps to challenge every failure and his ardor
Still is sweet
And love and hope are burning in the presence
Of defeat ……
Lo, the crisis! Lo, the shout
That must call the leader out.
When the people need salvation
Doth he come to lead the nation ….
Then doth Nature show her plan
When the world has found ---- a man!
Angela Morgan.

Lorraine

Lorraine fell today;
She turned to grasp her walker,
lost her balance
And Lorraine fell today.

Lorraine is known to few;
Another resident in a nursing home,
White haired, simple dress,
She shuffles down to hear us sing,
To hear us speak of Jesus.

When we leave, with an earnest gaze
And a warm hand she says--,
“I’m sure glad you came,
It means so much to us.”
Those simple words
Reach deep within me.
I believe she means it.
And Lorraine fell today.

They called the nurse,
A woman in her late sixties,
She knelt beside Lorraine
And first, eased her embarrassment.
So gentle, so sincere;
Her warmth immediately took me,
The ease in which she comforted Lorraine.
As Lorraine was comforted she began a
protocol of systematic questions.
Not as a nurse, but rather as a close friend.
Affection and admiration rose in me
As I watched nursing at its finest.

I know what a fall can mean;
the loss of mobility.
I was overcome by sadness at the thought.
I want her to remain strong.

But Lorraine fell today.

Good Movies

It has been said, sometimes the greatest discoveries are those lost from the past; so I am going to suggest two movies from the past that are must sees. First, for the whole family is Fiddler on the Roof. This classic from thirty years ago, tells the story of a jewish family and their struggles from oppression as well as the timeless struggles with family. The version with Isaac Stern as the soloist is the original and the one to rent.

The Second film I recommend as a teaching tool against drug use. The version of Jeckel and Hyde starring Spencer Tracy. If you have children ages 11 up, this film, although not a film about drug use, the parallel is so obvious that with a brief introduction by you to your child, they will see the parallel easily. In addition, Ingrid Bergman plays a woman caught in an oppressive relationship that she should end, but as so many women that become victims do, she allows it to go on, to her harm. You have to trust me on this, it is an invaluable tool covering two difficult issues to impress your children with and this makes it so easy.

Bastards blessed

The following is a bit difficult to follow, and the antiquated language unusual, but the message is well worth the struggle.

But should not a godly, gracious man be fully grieved and humbled for his sin?
Grieved, humbled for his sin? Yes, surely. Though the Lord, through the overruling hand of His Grace, works never so much good out of my sin unto me, yet I am to be humbled for it, and the rather to be humbled for it, because He works good out of it.
I have read of the mother of those three learned men, Peter Lombard, Francis Gratian, and Peter Comestor, the three great pillars of the Roman Church (for Lombard wrote the “Sentences”, and Gratian the “Popish Decretals,” and Comestor the “Historia Scholastica”), that when she lay on her death-bed, the priest came unto her, and called upon her for repentance for her whoredoms, for these three, Lombard, Gratian and Comestor, were her bastards, as the popish writers themselves confess in their writings. He told her that she must be greatly afflicted, grieved and humbled for her uncleanness, or else she could not be saved. “Why,” said she, “I confess, indeed, that whoredome and uncleanness is a great sin, but considering what a great deal of good has come to the church of God by my sin, that three such great lights have been brought forth into the world by my sin, I cannot, I will not repent.” And thus it is with many poor ignorant souls. When they see how the Lord by His over ruling hand works good unto them out of their sin, as some outward blessings and mercies, they do not repent of their sin, but rather justify themselves in their sins.
But now take a godly man, a gracious soul; the more he sees the Lord working good out of his sin, the more he is humbled for it; and upon that very ground, because God works good of it, therefore he is humbled the more.”
William Bridge – A Lifting Up For The Downcast.

Having gone through a divorce and having seen the sorrow and difficulties it caused my sons, this piece is so relevant to me. As I witness there successful lives, as I see God working good out of it, it is a humbling thing, and heightens my devotion to a God of second chances.

Pigeon-livered?

The following page is from a book "Getting on in the World" 1872, by William Mathews, LL. D.
The advice to young men it contains was common in America up through the fifties. Sadly it has become lost in present day. It may seem somewhat harsh to the modern day young person, with all of our luxuries, but a strong dose of its influence will no doubt be of great advantage.
There are many books written in the nineteenth, and early twentieth century that encourage a young person to do their best with example after example of those with less, that have made themselves useful to God, society, and family.

"It is the misfortune of many young persons today that they begin life with too many advantages. Every possible want of their many-sided natures is supplied before it is consciously felt. Books, teachers, mental and religious training, lectures, amusements, clothes, and food, all of the best quality and without stint in quantity, -- in short, the pick of the world’s good things, and helps of every kind, --- are lavished upon them, till satiety results, and all ambition is extinguished. What motive has a young man, for whom life is thus “thrice winnowed,” to exert himself? Having supped full of life’s sweets, he finds them palling on his taste; having done nothing to earn its good things, he cannot appreciate their value. “like a hot house plant, grown weak and spindling through too much shelter and watching, he needs nothing so much as to be set in the open air of the world, and to grow strong, with the struggling for existence.”

Mere hardship, of course, will not make a man strong, but it is an all important aid in the development of greatness. Want, confinement, opposition, roughness alternating with smoothness, difficulty with ease, storm with sunshine, sorrow with joy, -- these constitute the discipline of life, the education which makes a man of a being, who would otherwise be little better than an animal.
It has been justly said that in deprivation alone there is untold might. Imprison a gill of water ( two ounces ) in a solid rock, and deprive it of heat, and it will burst its flinty bonds as did Samson the cords of the Philistines. Apply a match to a pound of powder in the open air, and it explodes with a harmless flash; but confine it in a rifle-barrel, and tease it with the smallest spark, and it carries doom to a distant life.
Great men can no more be made without trials, than bricks can be made without fire.

In past ages men believed in the existence of ghosts, -- a belief which has disappeared before the light of intelligence; but the truth is, they really exist, only in a different form from that with which the popular imagination has invested them. A ghost is popularly supposed to be a soul without a body, fond of darkness and graveyards, and wearing a thin white drapery, which you can see, but not touch. The strongest man might strike through it without hitting or hurting it.
A character in one of Dicken’s novels knew a ghost “because he could see straight through the body to the buttons on the back of the coat.” But the real ghost is the man who has no pluck;
no perseverance, firmness, or energy; no backbone of determination; in short, the pigeon-livered thing, for it is not worthy to be called a man, that has a body without a soul.

After all, there is but one true way in which to meet the troubles and trials of life, and that is, to encounter them unflinchingly. It is doubtless very pleasant to sit in some loophole of retreat, and now and then, oyster-like, cautiously open one’s bivalves, and thank God he is not buffeting the billows like his fellows. Those who risk nothing, of course, can lose nothing; sowing no hopes, they cannot suffer from the blight of disappointment. But let him who is enlisted for the war expect to meet the foe. Either accept the advice of the tawny Philip to his hesitating warrior, -- “Go away with the children and the squaws,” – or be prepared not only for the contest, but for its consequences.

Fortunately, adversity is like the panther, look it boldly in the face, and it turns cowering away from you. It is like life’s troubles as with the risks of the battle-field, there is always less of aggregate danger to the party that stands firm than to that which gives way, the cowards being always cut down ingloriously in the fight.

No doubt it is easier to moralize on ‘the uses of adversity’ than to bear it.
We are aware that it is hard to begin life without a dollar, hard to be poor, and harder to seem poor in the eyes of others. No young man, especially no young man in our cities, likes to make his entrance in life with his boots patched; to wear an out of date hat, and clean gloves smelling of cheap oil and economy; nor to carry a cotton umbrella; nor to ask a girl to marry him and live in the sky-parlor of a cheap boarding-house. We all like to drive along smoothly, to have a fine turnout, to have the hinges of life oiled, the backs padded, and the seats cushioned. But such is not the road to success in any profession or calling; and if you are poor, and feel that you cannot climb the steeps of life unassisted, -- that you must be carried in a vehicle, instead of trudging on foot along the dusty highway, -- then confess your weakness and seek your Hercules in the first heiress who is as lacking in judgment as you in nerve and resolution. Mary for money if you can and be a stall-fed ox for the remainder of your days. But do not, while thus ‘boosted’ into life, boast of your success. Do not, while rising in the world like a balloon, by pressure from without instead of within, fancy you have any claim to triumph. The world will tip its hat to you, and give you plenty of ceremonious respect; but its real regard, its loftiest esteem, it will reserve for the moral hero who has the nerve to throw his hat into the ring, and fight out the battle of life in a manly and creditable way".

If that doesn't inspire you, you must hate John Wayne.

Letter from Matt

I received this email from Matt's wife Thanita today and she said it was for all so I decided to post it.

"Dear Thanita, I hope all is well. I pray for you and Nic and Nisha often. How is everything?
Two days ago we met 350 IDPs, it was upsetting, but they were strong despite the circumstances. It's hard to imagine being forced to leave everything you know and still smile and laugh. I was able to film a lot and interview some too. I will do my best to tell their story. I also have a deep sense that God has this trip planned.
I love you all."

When I read this brief email, the simplicity of it made me well up inside with pride. That may sound odd but in some of Christianity there are high and lofty buzz words, in some circles there is a hyper-spiritual language that at times seems boastful to me. It may be my lack of spirituality or some other deficiency, but somehow when I read this email, and I know how genuine his feelings are, and the priorities of his life are laid out; love for his wife and family, a God given desire to help the Burmese and a deep sense of God's presence and destiny.
And as he walks these hundred miles through the mountains, with at times eminent danger,
his feet do the talking.
Forgive me while I gush with pride, but this is how I interpret Christianity.

Giddy and Random?

I’ve been reading a little in the “Reformed Doctrine of Predestination”.
When ever my life seems farther out of control than normal, and I need to come back to the reality that God is in control and I need to believe it and trust it; I go to the Puritans and reformers for reminders. I would be quick to defend the belief that God is in control of everything, but when I read a quote like the following, it makes me realize how small I truly think God is.

“Although the price of the sparrow is small, and its flight seems giddy and at random, yet it does not fall to the ground, nor alight anywhere without your Father. His all wise providence hath before appointed what bough it shall perch upon; what grains it shall pick up; where it shall lodge and where it shall build; on what it shall live and where it shall fall to die.”

Could that be true? I know my family, home, daily food, and my death are all in His hands, but will he feed the birds this morning? Is He so big he can take note of all His creation? My lodging yes, but the black-capped chickadee that year round entertains me with his fluttering, hunting, pecking, does he share with me God’s protection? To the grains he eats? I’m not certain but it makes me well up to think so, I want to believe it........... I do believe it.

“Every raindrop and every snowflake which falls from the cloud, every insect which moves, every plant which grows, every grain of dust which floats in the air has had certain definite causes and will have certain definite effects. Each is a link in the chain of events and many of the great events of history have turned on these apparently insignificant things.”

Is my God that big? Oh yes He is, I see in his word how He uses all of His creation to turn the tide of this globe, I know enough of history to remember how he used a spider and his web to protect, the plant to teach, the clouds for signs and on it goes. What a mighty God we serve!

Beauty Thought

"It is perfectly possible for a girl with the homeliest face, with the ugliest expression, if she has an honest heart, to make herself beautiful to everyone who knows her by the perpetual habit of holding in her mind the beauty thought; not the thought of mere superficial beauty, but that of heart beauty, soul beauty. The basis of all real beauty is a kindly, helpful heart, and a desire to scatter sunshine and good cheer everywhere, and this, shining through the face, makes it beautiful". O.S.Marden

I suspect when you read this you are picturing a person like he describes. Someone the world may not consider handsome, but not long after meeting them they begin to transform, a strange but certain change takes place, somehow they become beautiful. I have met many in the nursing homes where superficial beauty has long been lost, but the richness of their character, the scattering of joy, revives the beauty years thought to steal.
I encouraged my granddaughters, as they both began a new school this year, to look people in the eye and smile a big Mother Teresa smile, begin conversations with strangers and learn to listen and you will not lack for friends. They heeded my advice and both have gained many new friends.
I like that.

Thoughts Radiate as Influence

“Gaze thou in the face of thy brother, in those eyes where plays the lambent fire of kindness, or in those where rages the lurid conflagration of anger; feel how thy own so quiet soul is straightway involuntarily kindled with the like, and ye blaze and reverberate on each other, till it is all one limitless, confluent flame (of embracing love, or of deadly, grasping hate); and then say what miraculous virtue goes out of man into man.”

What an interesting thought, how we influence each other for good or ill with nothing more than a look. What power we have over others, what weakness we have by others. Power without a word. We influence an entire household with a look.
“Potent with influence, our looks fly from us with every instant, working for weal or for woe.” Say’s Orison Marden.

Email from Matt's wife

Dear all,
Matt called me tonight. He is with the team leader and his team. And they just started their mission. Matt asked me to tell you guys to pray for him. The situation is very bad there. They are in the middle of a very very dangerous place. He really needs our prayers, that's what he said. I, now, translate the FBR report from English toThai. So, I have to read every report. The situation is worst than ever. I sometimes ask myself why did I even let my husband go there. Please pray for his safety, and for me that I will put all my worries in to the hand of the Lord.
Love,Thanita

The lovely Toy....

I spent the weekend at the coast which always brings with it the pursuit of rare Christian books.
WaLa! A couple of good finds; one is Orison Swett Marden's book "Every Man A King", seven bucks, eat your heart out Eric, and another titled "Getting On in The World" author William Mathews, LL.D. This is a book not unlike 'Pushing To The Front' by Marden, but a somewhat easier to read book, less fragmented. Anyway, in it there is a quote I want to share. The subject of anticipation being greater than possesion, is a topic that has always intrigued me and I fall prey to on a regular basis. I'll include the lead up, as well as the quote.....

"Again, it must be confessed that success does not always yield the happiness expected; that the prizes of life, like the apples of Sodom, often turn to ashes in the grasp. Of every object of human pursuit, however dazzling in the distance, it may be said as the poet has said of woman, --

"The lovely toy, so fiercly sought,
Hath lost its charm by being caught."

If one would love life

"In computing the duration of a human life in the actual sense of life, if we wish to obtain the result in minutes and seconds, we must strike out from the calculations all those minutes and seconds in which he does not live in the proper sense of the word. This would include all periods of unconsciousness, of intoxitcation, and of mental alienations, -- in short, all moments which, when past, leave in our nature no rational record of their passage." Charles E. Sargent, M.A.

When I read the above quote it made me think about the scripture in 1 Peter 3:10, "if we would love life and see good days", then surely we must consider how much of our life is worth the living.
Like the quote suggests, if we consider the time spent in worry, resentment, anger, discouragement, all mental alienations, or mental derangements, from friends, family, co-workers or whoever; we must consider that time spent, is life not worth the living. That term mental alienations stuck out the most to me, and truly life in that state is lost time. So much of our time can be lost if we do not follow the Path.
As a Christian, our lives are in God's hands, every man our brother, every task a purpose, every trial a lesson, so that we can glorify God and enjoy Him forever, as the catechism states.

I just got this picture back and it is a rare time that nearly all my grandchildren are together.
Last Christmas I had eleven of my grandchildren here for this photo op.
From bottom left to right is Lily, Destiny, Raleigh, Dre'Sean, Jordan, Nic.
I'm holding Nisha, to my immediate left is Austin then Micah, and above Left to right is Carissa and Christian.
My most prized possesions, this bulging quiver of budding leaders and world changers.

Secrets

Secrets.
I was asked what I thought the secrets of God are; so I put down things I have learned and have been taught about the secrets of God.

Secrets of wisdom for living, they cry out in the streets and even the ungodly will gain them if attentive to life. The plain, pure, word of God.

Secrets of Christ Jesus, secrets of His assurance, his direction, His purposes for our life.
Not found on the surface, but rather to be sought after, mined as it were. Found in hidden places of devotion not in banter or chatter and rarely through the prophetic words of another.

Secrets of ministry; The revealing of another’s need -- when in ministry and the secrets of a person’s heart is unknown, or if a need is unidentified, God will identify these secrets; Secrets that allow us to know what to do or what will reach them, and finding the words or the actions that were unprepared, but somehow, in a moment of intimate soul connection, one finds a clarity or a spontaneous word or action that is divinely given for the moment. A spiritual gift for the moment. Certainly, the sweetest of all the secrets.

Secrets of worship and intimacy with God. Mined in the prayer closet or occasionally by a whelming flood of special mercy or grace.
I suppose my favorite teaching on this comes from Jeremy Taylor, a 17th century Anglican Priest with such insight. Here is a piece he does on spiritual growth and the mystical experience we have with God. This is not an easy read, so get out the dictionary, you’ll need it for the full blessing, and not even Paul could read it once and understand it.

The first beginnings in religion are employed in the mastering of their first appetites, casting out devils, exterminating all evil customs, lessening the tendency of habits, and contradict the orders of persistent corrupt desires; and this, which divines call the purgative or purging way, is wholly spent in actions of repentance, mortification, and self-denial…..

After our first step is taken, and the conviction part of repentance is resolved on, and begun, and we have had good degrees of progress, we then enter into the illuminative way of religion…. If a pious soul passes to affections that are of a lofty sentiment, and intimate and more directly related to God, without the help of others, without the use of written prayers or guides and develops a spiritual love, it is well; only remember that the love that God requires of us, is an operative, material, and communicative love, “If you love me keep My commandments”; so that still a good life is the effect of the deepest and most sublime meditation…..

Beyond what I have described, there is a degree of meditation so exalted, that it changes the very name, and is called contemplation; and it is in the unitive way of religion, that is, it consists in unions and adherences to God; it is a prayer of quietness and silence, and an extraordinary meditation, prayers without distraction, a vision and intuition of divine excellencies, an immediate entry into an orb of light, and a blending of all our faculties into sweetness, affections, and a staring upon the divine beauty; and is carried on to ecstasies, raptures, no sense of time, inspirations, being drawn away from the temporal, and apprehending a blissful state……

But this is not a thing to be discoursed of, but felt; and although in other sciences the terms must first be known, and then the rules and conclusions of science applied; here it is otherwise; for first, the whole of this must be experienced, before we can so much as know what it is; and the end must be acquired first, the conclusion before the premises.
They that testify of these heights call them the secrets of the kingdom; but they are such which no man can describe; such which God hath not revealed in the publication of the gospel; such for the acquiring of which there are no means prescribed.


Unknown Secrets
And then lastly, and the inexhaustable part of “The Secrets”, are all the ones I do not know, the vast riches of God that I have no understanding about whatsoever.

This is a style of Art that I particularly like.

If you enjoy this art go to the net and type in "Art Renewal" and the link is to the largest art site on the net. My favorite artist is William Bouguereau. There are about 200 of his paintings on this site, along with about 1500 other artists.

Betrothed to God

The following piece from A Lifting Up For The Downcast, is so typical of the Puritan theology. If you have not read the Puritan divines, this piece will give you a clear example of their teachings. It typifies the encouraging, inspiring, line of thought that permeates their writings. I will abridge it at the end because of the language difficulties.

“ Every godly, gracious man, is in covenant with God by Jesus Christ; and that covenant is a covenant of grace, which is the great charter, the “magna-Charta” of all his spiritual privileges and immunities (freedom from natural or usual liability). Now in this great charter, the Lord proclaims this, that sincerity shall go for perfection; that a little done for God, in the time of temptation, shall be counted much. In this great charter, the Lord proclaims unto all His people, that He rather regards the bent (inclinations ) of the heart than the enlargement of the heart: that He rather regards the will to do, than the doing.
In this great charter, the covenant of free grace, the Lord proclaims unto all His people, that if they fail in prayer and other duties (for I speak not of prayer only ),
He will not cast them off, but He will rather be moved to pity them; for the covenant that the Lord makes with His people is as the covenant that a man makes with his wife; “I will betroth thee unto me for ever” says the Lord, Hosea 2:19. Now a man will not put away his wife for every failing, neither will the Lord put away his people nor cast them off, because He is betrothed to them though they do fail in duties. Again, in this great charter and covenant of grace, the Lord proclaims unto all His children, that what they lack in performance, he will make up in indulgence. He proclaims this unto them, that He will require no more than He gives; He will give what he requires, and He will accept what He gives. Now, therefore, am I in that covenant of grace? And are there many failings in my duties? Yet if this be true, that the Lord is more moved by my failings to pity me than to cast me off, then I have no reason to be discouraged. And thus it is with every child of God. He is in this covenant of grace, and so the privileges and immunities of all this great charter belong unto him.”

It is remarkable, that in this covenant of Grace,” that sincerity shall go for perfection”. This is a reoccurring theme through all the Puritan writings.
” that a little done for God, in the time of temptation, shall be counted much”.
He regards the inclinations of the heart and is not worried about the hearts size or ability.
Of course the security of the believer is throughout their writings, comments like
“He will not cast us off but rather is moved to pity. We are betrothed to Him and God hates divorce. What we lack in performance, he will make up in indulgence. When is the last time you heard that from a pulpit? Or, what He requires he will give.

Bathing the Soul

The following are the musings of Henry Ward Beecher as he walks through his large Estate. He day dreams as he walks through the orchards, along the meadows and by the lakeside. He considers what improvements he may make and just drinks up the beauty while dreaming the day away. Then he questions himself as to whether this is of value or not.

“But of what use is all this fanciful using of the head?
Is it a mere waste of precious time?
But, if it gives great delight, if it keeps the soul awake, sweet thoughts alive and sordid thoughts dead, if it brings one a little out of conceit with hard economies, and penurious reality, and stingy self-conceit; if it be like a bath to the soul, in which it washes away the grime of human contacts, and the sweat and dust of life among selfish, sordid men; if it makes the thoughts more supple to climb along the ways where the spiritual fruits do grow; and especially, if it introduces the soul to a fuller conviction of the Great Unseen, and teaches it to esteem the visible as less real than things which no eye can see, or hands handle, it will have answered a purpose which is in vain sought after among stupid conventionalities.
At any rate, such a discourse of the thoughts with things that are beautiful, and such an opening of the soul to things which are sweet-breathed, will make one joyful at the time and tranquil thereafter. And if one fully believes that the earth is the Lord’s, and that God yet walks among leaves, and trees, in the cool of the day, he will not easily be persuaded to cast away the belief that all these vagaries and wild communings are but those of a child in his father’s house, and that the secret springs of joy which they open are touched of God!”

There is so much I like in this piece, I like the line "a bath to the sould that washes away the grime of human contacts , and the sweat and dust of life among selfish and sordid men."
I also like "an opening of the soul to things which are sweet-breathed"
Aw! nature.......

Inestimable Gift

Join in with me while Henry Ward Beecher reminices about boyhood adventures --

“On the blessed day above mentioned, a bare-footed boy might have been seen on a June afternoon, with his alder-pole on his shoulder, tripping through the meadow where dandelions and wild geraniums were in bloom, and steering for the old sawmill. As soon as the meadow was crossed, the fence scaled and a descent begun, all familiar objects were gone, and the overpowering consciousness of being alone set one’s imagination into a dance of fear.
Could we find our way back?
What if a big bull should come out of those bushes?
What if a great big man should come along and carry us off?
To a six-year old boy these were very serious matters, and nothing could have so well tested the eagerness or our purpose as perseverance under these soul-bewildering suggestions; for realities in after-life are seldom so impressive as imaginations in early life. A child’s fears are cruel. They are to him the signs of absolute realities, and he is quite unable to reason on them and is helpless to repel or to endure them. The fears of our childhood constitute a chapter in mental philosophy.
But, no sooner did we see the sparkle of the water than our souls grew calm again and happy.”

When I first read this I got caught up in the scene described and it took me back to when I was a boy living in a rural agricultural area. I spent many a day hiking off to where the lands were uncharted. Many a time to a place I had been once, or someone had told me about, and the way was uncertain. I experienced the fear he describes about being lost or the worry a big dog might be stumbled on to or a big man that could carry us off.
But as I re-read this story I was taken by a different aspect of it; The line,
“for realities in after-life are seldom so impressive as imaginations in early life. A child’s fears are cruel.”
A sadness came over me as the truth of that statement sunk in. I began to think of a child with these “impressive imaginations in early life” that is caught in the break-up of a family by divorce, and how big the fears are in a young child. How a “child’s fears are cruel.” Without hope, overwhelming and reaching deep within to a place where there just is no understanding. I thought of my sons and the desperation they must have felt when their mother and I divorced. I then thought of all the children that face truly fearful circumstances and I felt that fearful imagination.
To those who have held their marriages together in this ‘throw away’ culture, my hats off to you. I doubt you realize the inestimable gift you have given your children.

Inestimable gift

Lets pick up here as Henry Ward Beecher describes a beautiful spring day as he reminisces
as a child of six --

On the blessed day above mentioned, a bare-footed boy might have been seen on a June afternoon, with his alder-pole on his shoulder, tripping through the meadow where dandelions and wild geraniums were in bloom, and steering for the old sawmill. As soon as the meadow was crossed, the fence scaled and a descent begun, all familiar objects were gone, and the overpowering consciousness of being alone set one imagination into a dance of fear.
Could we find our way back?
What if a big bull should come out of those bushes?
What if a great big man should come along and carry us off?
To a six-year old boy these were very serious matters, and nothing could have so well tested the eagerness or our purpose as perseverance under these soul-bewildering suggestions; for realities in after-life are seldom so impressive as imaginations in early life. A childs fears are cruel. They are to him the signs of absolute realities, and he is quite unable to reason on them and is helpless to repel or to endure them. The fears of our childhood constitute a chapter in mental philosophy.
But, no sooner did we see the sparkle of the water than our souls grew calm again and happy.

When I first read this I got caught up in the scene described and it took me back to when I was a boy living in a rural agricultural area. I spent many a day hiking off to where the lands were uncharted. Many a time to a place I had been once, or someone had told me about, and the way was uncertain. I experienced the fear he describes about being lost or the worry a big dog might be stumbled on to or a big man that could carry us off.
But as I re-read this story I was taken by a different aspect of it; The line,
"for realities in after-life are seldom so impressive as imaginations in early life. A childs fears are cruel.
A sadness came over me as the truth of that statement sunk in. I began to think of a child with these impressive imaginations in early life that is caught in the break-up of a family by divorce, and how big the fears are in a young child. How a childs fears are cruel. Without hope, overwhelming and reaching deep within to a place where there just is no understanding.
I thought of my sons and the desperation they must have felt when their mother and I divorced. I then thought of all the children that face truly fearful circumstances and I felt that fearful imagination.
To those who have held their marriages together in this throw away culture, my hats off to you. I doubt you realize the inestimable gift you have given your children.