"To Come Awake...To Remain Awake" (C.S. Lewis)

"We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. The world is crowded with God. God walks everywhere incognito. And the incognito is not always hard to penetrate. The real labor is to remember, to attend. In fact, to come awake. Still more, to remain awake."

(C.S. Lewis, Letters to Malcolm: Chiefly On Prayer)

"Water from the Spiritual Well" (Theresa of Avila)

"Learning to draw water up from the spiritual well is a hard labor, indeed -- at least in the beginning.

It is difficult, in the first place, to keep all of your senses recollected and focused upon total humility before God. What a tremendous difficulty that is, because our senses are so much in the habit of flitting about from one worldly distraction to another. And so you must learn to set aside what you see and hear in order to see and hear what God would pour out upon you from His invisible kingdom...

When we begin to renew our minds in this way -- that is, building the habit of constantly, deeply meditating upon the Lord Jesus -- we draw water up out of the deep wells of salvation (Isaiah 12:3)."

(The Life of Theresa of Jesus) 

What and Who Binds Us Together

I was reading along in one of the appointed Psalms this morning, Psalm 28. And I got to these words, which always delight my heart whenever I stumble upon them in the lectionary:



7 Blessed is the Lord! *
for he has heard the voice of my prayer.

8 The Lord is my strength and my shield; *
my heart trusts in him, and I have been helped;

9 Therefore my heart dances for joy, *
and in my song will I praise him.

10 The Lord is the strength of his people, *
a safe refuge for his anointed.

11 Save your people and bless your inheritance; *
shepherd them and carry them for ever.

Something struck me about those words this morning, and about my love for those words. It struck me that one reason I love the Psalms is because the writers of them, the people who prayed these words originally and wrote them down, often speak words that seem to transcend the centuries and differences of culture and just pour out of human longings that we still have in common with them today.

But just when I was feeling awed by that connection, what awed me even further was the realization that yes, we share the same longings, the same needs, the same joys, but we also share the same God. The one who heard the voice of that Psalmist's prayer? He is the one who hears the voice of my prayer today!

No wonder the communion of saints feels so tightly connected! We are connected by so many things! I sometimes imagine a golden cord that we all hold onto through the years, a cord that binds us all together and keeps us dancing in the same circle.  But the cord that binds us is not just one strand, is it? It's a thick cord of strands that includes the thickest, most golden truth of all: that we worship the same Lord, the one who made us, loves us, redeems us, and sustains us through his Spirit.

St. Theresa of Avila and Trevor Hudson (on Souls, Gardens, and a Loving God)

I'm reading my way somewhat slowly through Majestic is Your Name: A 40-Day Journey in the Company of Theresa of Avila. I say somewhat slowly because I'm not doing it daily, and during the worst craziness of our move (and we're still unpacking) I missed a bunch of days. But I am over half-way through now, and I continue to find that my heart resonates with this great Carmelite teacher. (I've been realizing that I've always had a love for the Carmelites, but I'll save that insight for another post.)

Today's beautiful devotional included these words from St. Theresa, excerpted from her Life:

"When you enter into the spiritual life through the gateway of prayer, you would do well to see yourself as one who has set out to create a garden.

This garden is a place wherein our Lord wants to come and walk and to take pleasure...His Majesty wants to uproot the weeds and plant in this garden many fruitful and fragrant and blossoming plants. You may take it for granted that the Lord is already afoot, walking in His garden, if you have had any desire to seek him in prayer, for He always calls to us first and it is His voice we hear when we think it is our desire to pray.

If we want to be good gardeners of this new-sown soul, we must, with God's help, see to it that the good plantings are tended and grow -- and I am speaking now of the godly virtues. At very least, we must see that these good things are not neglected and die. Rather, we tend our souls carefully so that the first blossoms appear.

These are the spiritual "fragrances" that begin to rise from our lives -- the fragrances of faith, goodness, self-control, love, and the like. By them, many, many others are refreshed in spirit and attracted to the Lord...Then our Lord himself comes to walk in the midst of our garden. And it is all our joy to sense that He is there, taking pleasure in these lovely virtues."

I love this whole extended metaphor! (And quick side-note to poetic self, a slip of my neuropathied fingers made me realize that "soil" and "soul" are just one letter off.) I love the expression "fragrances of faith..." and that the purpose of the growing of good things is our lives is at least threefold: for our Lord's pleasure, for our own growth and joy, and for the refreshment of others that they may be drawn to the loving Lord and King we know.

I also love how the Lord, in his goodness, has this meditation dancing in my heart and mind today along with another meditation I've been contemplating for a few days, from Trevor Hudson's book Beyond Loneliness: The Gift of God's Friendship. I've been slowly working my way through the second chapter there, entitled "God's Passionate Longing for Friendship" in which he makes a couple of wonderful points. One is that God, of course, already has passionate and beautiful friendship within the triune Godhead. He did not create us because he *needed* friendship, but because he wanted it. He created us not out of need, but out of "the abundance of this divine relational life." He wants us to know that life, and so he invites us into it. And he takes the initiative to do this.

Where do we first see this? In the garden, the first garden, where we see the very first question in the Scriptures. The question is "where are you?" and God asks it of Adam and Eve when they hide from him after sinning because they are afraid.

I remember my daughter, when we read this story together when she was very little, asking me "why did God ask them that?" I think she was five or six at the time, and it already occurred to her very young mind that it seems like an odd question for the God of the universe to be asking. I remember her pointing out that God, being God, would know where they were. And it's true. He would also know why they were hiding. So why does he ask? As Hudson points out, he asks because

"even when we mess up, when we let ourselves down, when we fail to obey God, God does not reject us. Nor does God give up on us. Rather God comes looking for us. God continues to pursue our companionship. God knows the worst about us, but that knowledge does not prevent God from taking the initiative in reaching out to us. Here is the bottom line of God's good news: Nothing can ever extinguish the flame of God's passionate longing to be our friend."

Let's hear that last line again, and let's put it in bold: Nothing can ever extinguish the flame of God's passionate longing to be our friend. Can you hear that truth on this wintry Advent evening, during a season of life and love and light in the midst of darkness? God longs for us. And he longs to walk with us in the beautiful garden that together with him, we can create of our lives. He didn't have to go looking for Adam and Eve. But he did, because that is who he is, and has been, from all eternity. Jesus revealed God's heart to us even further when he gave us the picture of the Good Shepherd who went in pursuit of the one sheep who had wandered off from the fold.

Contemplate that amazing heart of God this Christmas. Contemplate that the loving heart that went to the cross has always, from the beginning of time, come looking for us when we are lost. That he does that for you, for me, and for every single person who ever lived. There is no one beyond the reach of that grace, no one he doesn't long to find and bring back into a close walk with him in a beautiful garden. When we know this with all our heart, it will shine forth from us in gospel beauty, refreshing others and attracting them to his heart. That's why we're here on earth, and for no other, deeper reason, I am coming to believe. We are here to learn to walk with him and to draw others into that loving walk.

An Hour With C.S. Lewis

Today I got to spend an hour with C.S. Lewis.

Friday marks the 50th anniversary of Lewis' passing to greater glory, and it felt fitting to set aside time this week to read some of his words and to pray in thanksgiving for this departed saint who has meant so much in my life and in the life of so many.

O God of searing truth and surpassing beauty, we give you thanks for Clive Staples Lewis whose sanctified imagination lights fires of faith in young and old alike; Surprise us also with your joy and draw us into that new and abundant life which is ours in Christ Jesus, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

I'm Trying to Imagine...

I'm trying to imagine what it must have been like for William Wilberforce, as he lay dying (during this July week one hundred and seventy-seven years ago) to receive word that slavery had been abolished in Great Britain.

The abolition of the slave trade, and eventually the institution of slavery itself, had been a major part of Wilberforce's life work. When he experienced his Christian conversion as a young man, he was already a rising star in parliament, and his immediate reaction was to think he should leave politics for some other more spiritual field. With the encouragement of his good friend William Pitt (then the youngest PM in British history) and his spiritual mentor John Newton (former slaver ship captain, then pastor, who penned the beloved hymn "Amazing Grace") Wilberforce was convinced that God could indeed call him to stay in parliament, and even use him there.

And oh, how God used Wilberforce's gifts as an orator, and his seemingly tireless passion for justice! I'm trying to imagine what it must have felt like, after years of weary work and toil, for Wilberforce to receive the news that righteousness was dawning and justice rolling down like a river.

But even that sweet and blessed news, after a lifetime of toil and even suffering, must have faded in comparison to the amazing moment of seeing his Savior and hearing "well done my good and faithful servant."

I'm trying to imagine what it was like for Miss Eleanor to enter into glory this week. Miss Eleanor was the oldest member of our church, 95 years old to be precise, a vibrant, joyous African-American lady who loved her Lord and loved others. She lived a life of service...to her country (she was with the Medical Corps in WWII) and to her brothers and sisters. Well into her 90s, she worked as a volunteer with various ministries in town. My husband used to wheel her down the street to the office of the mission organization where he works, where Miss Eleanor would hold court, blessing everyone with her joyous smile while she busily folded envelopes.

This was a woman who radiated joy and peace. When I went to the viewing at the funeral home last night, I was immediately struck by the fact that she still did. Everyone seemed struck by it: her body lay in such tranquil repose, the hint of a smile on her face still so sweet, that it was impossible not to know that she had passed from this earthly life into the presence of her Lord. And she too heard "well done, my good and faithful servant."

I'm trying to imagine what that move, from earth to heaven, must feel like for those who are ready, who slip from one dimension to the next with the fluidity of light or water, so ready are they to lay down their journey here and continue it there. Absent from the body, present with the Lord. No wonder we celebrate a saint's feast day on the day they die (something I've been talking about lately with my eight year old). As joyous as a birth is, how much more so the passing into new and fuller life! Higher up and further in! Pressed in close to Jesus! Cup overflowing!

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. Romans 8:18

Life is real! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul...

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

(From A Psalm of Life by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; you can go here to read the poem in its entirety.)