Piercing the Darkness

~*~ The Beginning of the End ~*~

The Westminister Confession of Faith: Shorter Catechism, Question One:
Q: What is the chief end of man?
A: Man’s chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy him forever.

-

Oh the wicked-horrible wretch that I am,
For blind, bloody, and dirty I stand –
Alone before Him, who Himself is the Light,
When my eyes catch His gaze, my soul shakes in fright.

What can a man offer to God,
That has not already been given?
Or what could this whore do to himself,
To remove the marks that must be forgiven.

But I am darker, weaker, and more ignorant still,
For in having the truth, I have suppressed His will.
So what can be done for a wench such as me?
I have no ears to hear, and no eyes to see.

-

I am worse than my lovers,
And am lost in the sea.
I have betrayed my Betrothed.
Who, now, can rescue me?

-

-Jonathan Roberts

~*~

There come many moments in my life where the Lord abruptly shatters the foolish facades of hypocrisy and insincerity that I so whimsically seek to build around myself. Sometimes these moments are very dramatic and unmistakable to be the work of our holy and faithful God; but other times these exchanges are so subtle that I have to simply silence the noise of my mind in order to catch the brilliant whispers of the Holy Spirit. Both of these forces have been increasingly active and working in me, not allowing my conscience to have the slightest ease until I rest in Him. Augustine’s Confession that “Thou hast made us for Thyself and our hearts are restless till we rest in Thee,” has become a tangible reality as of late. Dark and difficult days have dominated my life for such a long period of time now – mostly due to my own wanderings and shortcomings, I suppose – but I truly believe that both the light of the gospel and the glory of Christ are beginning to shake this present darkness. Because of this, it is my purpose here to somewhat painfully express some confessions of my own that have come out of some severely difficult trials with the hope that you may be encouraged and even challenged to love our God all the more – for He is worthy.

A poet of the late century penned these very difficult, yet very truthful words:

How intense is the agony:
When the eye begins to see,
When the ear begins to hear,
When the heart begins to pound,
When pulse begins to throb
When the soul feels its flesh,
And the flesh feels its c h a i n s.

When I first heard this, my eyes began to fill with tears as the feelings that the author was trying to communicate became suddenly poignant and real. This is nothing but an honest expression of the reality common to every man. Namely, that we are not free – we are slaves to sin, and the shackles of iniquity bind every one of us – our flesh is chained. All of mankind is utterly wicked and broken and bent towards evil. Dr. John R.W. Stott (a British evangelist) in one of his books makes this comment on civilized society, and her problem with morals and civility, says this:

Many of the happenings of civilized society would not exist if it were not for human sin. A promise is not enough; we need a contract. Doors are not enough; we have to lock and bolt them. The payment of fares is not enough; we have to be issued with tickets which are punched, inspected, and collected. Law and order are not enough; we need the police to enforce them. All these things and many others, to which we have grown accustomed, that we have taken forgranted, are due to our sin. We cannot trust each other; we need protection from one another. It is a sorry state of affairs.

Every unbeliever feels (remember that although he or she may deny the fact and face of evil, he can never deny the feeling of evil) the weight of his guilt that has been thrown upon his back by sinning against a Holy God, and even the Christian may often find himself or herself lost and buried under the pressure of living in a broken earth and a sinful world; however, most of the time we (consciously or subconsciously) shun and suppress the truth that we are utterly fallen creatures living in a fallen creation. But the reality of sin is inseparable from the reality our daily lives.

~*~ ~*~

Allow me to personalize these thoughts:

Over the past few years I have come find that there are two distinct concepts of sin presented in the scriptures. The first is that of directly breaking God’s law. David’s confession (long after He had killed Uriah and committed adultery with Bathsheba) in Psalm 51 that

“I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against You, You only, I have sinned and done what is evil in your sight…”

is a prime example of the guilt that direct disobedience brings with it. Every one of us has broken God’s law (we have all lied, stolen, lusted, envied, blasphemed, disobeyed, and murdered – whether it be inwardly or outwardly). And even though we constantly attempt to justify our wrongdoing by comparing ourselves to others to make our filth look less filthier, scripture reminds us that “whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles in one point, he has become guilty of all,” (James 2:10). Paul also made it extremely clear in his letter to the Romans that there is no partiality with God, for the whole world has become guilty before Him because all have broken His law.

Now we know that whatever the Law says, it speaks to those who are under the Law, so that every mouth may be closed and all the world may become accountable to God; because by the works of the Law no flesh will be justified in His sight; for through Law comes the knowledge of sin. Romans 3:19-20

These willful sins (when I knowingly transgress the law of God) have built up a certificate of debt against me that must be paid for. I’ve always found Solomon’s last words of wisdom to be a most fascinating conclusion to his life of saturated sin, untamed passion, unthinkable pleasure, and willful disobedience.

The conclusion, when all has been heard, is: fear God and keep His commandments, because this applies to every person. For God will bring every act to judgment, everything which is hidden, whether it is good or evil. (Ecc. 12:13-14)

However, when one realizes that he or she has not kept the commandments of God, it is then that sin becomes so exceedingly sinful. And just like Paul said, the longer one looks into the Law of God, the knowledge and guilt of sin becomes heavier and heavier. It is also then that the façade of self-righteousness is quickly revealed to be just another manifestation of sin… p r i d e. The more and more I try to keep the law of God, the more I find that I do not keep it; I am a transgressor of the law. But it is fundamental to understand that sin runs much deeper than just the violation of commandments. Jesus was quick to dispel the popular notion among the Jewish leaders that sin was a product of external impurity:

“Listen to me, everyone, and understand this. Nothing outside a man can make him ‘unclean’ by going into him. Rather, it is what comes out of a man that makes him ‘unclean’…”

He went on: “What comes out of a man is what makes him ‘unclean.’ For from within, out of men’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and make a man ‘unclean.’”
(Mark 7:14-15, 20-23)

There is something deeply unsettling and rank and vile about the very heart of man. Ravi Zacharias points out that:

For man, sin is not just an act, it is an attitude. Man is not a sinner because he is a transgressor; he is a transgressor because he is already a sinner. The offense is not only in the transgression, but in the intention. Not merely in the violation of law, but in the disposition of the heart. The Sermon on the Mount makes this clear: lust is adultery, even if it never passes beyond the look of desire; hateful anger is murder, even if blood is never spilled; materialism is lust of the eyes, even if one is not rich. This is so because the seed of sin is in the heart and the will, not only the action.

It is interesting to notice while all of us may not violate all of the commandments, we are generally very proud of the ones we keep, and we have no sympathy with those who are violators in areas where we ourselves are virtuous. Isn’t it true that the drunkard will often boast of his charity, the immoral man is thankful that he is not a thief, and the profane swearer flatters himself that he never lies. No wonder the Bible says “how deceitful and desperately wicked is the heart of man.”

From King Saul, who twisted the law in order to be able to offer sacrifice and bring some kind of appeasement to his own conscience, to the violation of the woman in Solomon’s day who was willing to see a baby cleaved in order to protect her own dignity, sin is rampant. Adam’s sin has brought sin upon the whole race, and you and I are fallen creatures today.

-Ravi Zacharias “The Lostness of Man”

/\ I a m a t r a n s g r e s s o r. /\

The second idea of sin in the scriptures is that of missing the mark. So, not only do I embrace wickedness, but I also do not (and can not) meet holiness. The well known claim of God’s Word is that “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” It is like an archer who - given every opportunity to poise and ready his aim – completely misses the target he was supposed to hit over and over again, no matter how many attempts he is given or whatever adjustments he tries to make. Here is a charge that none of us can perfectly obey:

As obedient children, do not be conformed to the former lusts which were yours in your ignorance, but like the Holy One who called you, be holy yourselves also in all your behavior; because it is written, “YOU SHALL BE HOLY FOR I AM HOLY.” (I Peter 1:14-16)

Nobody’s perfect (the cliché is right!). Therefore, everyone is imperfect. And the Bible calls this imperfection sin. All of humanity has missed the mark of God’s absolute standard of holiness. And it has become suddenly apparent – probably due to my imperfect mind and imperfect theology, I believe – that I have been neglecting and even suppressing this second concept of sin: the idea of missing the mark. Namely, that everything I do – even the times of heartfelt service and obedience – is tainted with my pride and my selfishness and my hypocrisy. The more time I spend in God’s Word, the more I see my own sin in light of His holiness. It seems a little strange that verses that I often quote when sharing my faith with others have suddenly become sharp, direct, and even painful towards me. Verses like:

The heart is more deceitful than all things
And desperately wicked;
Who can know it?
(Jer. 17:9)

For all of us have become like one who is unclean,
And all our righteous deeds are like a filthy garment;
And all of us wither like a leaf,
And our iniquities, like the wind, take us away.
(Is. 64:6)

/\ I a m f a l l e n. /\

Spending many of my devotional times in the Old Testament this past year, I have come to notice many similar themes and messages spread throughout the OT books. Probably the strongest and most recurrent theme is that of God’s faithfulness to His people Israel in spite of their unfaithfulness to Him. Even in the book of Judges you find God consistently and faithfully redeeming His people only to have them chase after other gods and play the harlot with the other nations. But finally Israel comes to the knowledge that freedom is not the same as autonomy, meaning that you can destroy freedom just as much by abusing it, as you can by taking it away. Before long, Israel realizes that in seeking their freedom from the yoke of God, they have become enslaved to the pagan nations, who treat them in return with malice and hatred. So God’s people cry out to God and ask for deliverance. And God, infinitely faithful, sends a judge to deliver them from the yoke of slavery that they themselves put on. But not long after God rescues Israel, she once again plays the harlot and chases after other gods. This continuous cycle in Judges of sin, servitude, supplication, salvation, and silence, is found throughout the rest of scripture as well; particularly in the prophets.

In the early chapters of Jeremiah, the “weeping” prophet is inspired by God to speak to His people a message to convict and turn their hearts back towards Him, and away from their adulterous lovers. The theme of adultery between a husband and wife and how it relates to Israel’s (the bride) treatment of God’s (the Groom) love and faithfulness is both powerful and applicable. Listen to the Lord’s strong words against His people:

“Be appalled, O heavens, at this, and shudder with great horror,” declares the LORD. My people have committed two sins: they have forsaken Me,the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water…”

“Your wickedness will punish you; Your backsliding will rebuke you. Consider then and realize how evil and bitter it is for you when you forsake the LORD your God and have no awe of me,” declares the Lord, the LORD Almighty.

“Long ago you broke off your yoke and tore off your bonds; you said,

‘I will not serve you!'

Indeed, on every high hill and under every spreading tree you lay down as a prostitute. I had planted you like a choice vine of sound and reliable stock. How then did you turn against me into a corrupt, wild vine? Although you wash yourself with soda and use an abundance of soap, the stain of your guilt is still before me,” declares the Sovereign LORD. “How can you say,

‘I am not defiled; I have not run after the Baals’?

See how you behaved in the valley; consider what you have done. You are a swift she-camel running here and there, a wild donkey accustomed to the desert, sniffing the wind in her craving – in her heat who can restrain her? Any males that pursue her need not tire themselves; at mating time they will find her.

Do not run until your feet are bare and your throat is dry. But you said,

‘It’s no use! I love foreign gods, and I must go after them.’”

Now watch how the Lord paints a picture of how serious their sins are against Him:

“If a man divorces his wife and she leaves him and marries another man, should he return to her again? Would not the land be completely defiled? But you have lived as a prostitute with many lovers – Would you now return to me?” declares the LORD.

“Look up to the barren heights and see. Is there any place where you have not been ravished? By the roadside you sat waiting for lovers, sat like a nomad in the desert. You have defiled the land with your prostitution and wickedness. Therefore the showers have been withheld, and no spring rains have fallen. Yet you have the brazen look of a prostitute; you refuse to blush with shame. Have you not just called to me:

‘My Father, my friend from my youth, will you always be angry forever? Will your wrath continue forever?’

This is how you talk, but you do all the evil you can.”
(Jeremiah 2,3)

When reading passages of Scripture like the ones above, it is all too easy to justify our conviction by telling ourselves that this type of language only applies to Israel in the Old Testament, and has no real meaning or correlation to us today. But think about how many times you have told the Lord that you loved Him and promised to reject the pleasures of the world and of sin only to find yourself jumping right out of the arms of God and embracing spiritual forces which wage war against the soul. And yet we even try to blame God when the sin brings its natural consequences by crying out like Israel did, “Will you always be angry forever? Will your wrath continue forever?” as if it was all God’s fault that they had become enslaved to their sin. Notice God’s response: “This is how you talk, but you do all the evil you can.” We tend to ask God to deliver us from the pain and damage and hurt that our own sin brings upon us, yet fail to change the object of our affections. We can try to clean ourselves up by self-righteous acts, yet our sin is still staining in the sight of God.

And notice the analogy He gives about Israel’s rejection of God and wandering towards other gods; when a couple is divorced and the woman is physically joined to another man, how then can the woman’s first husband ever be joined to her again? Has she not defiled herself? Adultery is something I’d like to think that I have never done – at least in the literal sense – but the Bible makes it all to clear that to reject the love of God for the love of another is adultery in its most intense and despicable fashion. Can you imagine if you heard a husband say – with pride and confidence – that he was 98% faithful to his wife (he only has affairs two percent of the time, but the rest of the time he is completely loving and faithful faithful), what the reaction from those hearing would be? We would all be shocked and horrified at that sick and demented portrait of what it means to love. Yet, we tend to justify ourselves spiritually by saying that we’re faithful to God most of the time… it’s just those few slipups here and there that mess things up, but for the most part… we’re ok… Do you see the hypocrisy? Do you see the adultery? And listen to God’s response after the husband and wife analogy, “But you have lived as a prostitute with many lovers – would you now return to Me?”

/\ I a m a n a d u l t e r e r. /\

The book of Hosea – which is almost entirely about God’s faithfulness to a faithless people – contains some of the most convicting passages I have ever read. Here’s one where God is speaking to His people,

What shall I do with you, O Ephraim?
What shall I do with you, O Judah?
For your loyalty is like a morning cloud
And the dew which goes away early.
Therefore I have hewn them in pieces by the prophets;
I have slain them by the words of My mouth;
And the judgments on you are like the light that goes forth.
For I delight in loyalty rather than sacrifice,
And I the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings.
(Hosea 6:4-6)

My loyalty is like the morning cloud; my faithfulness towards God is like the dew on the grass that lasts for just a few hours before evaporating into the atmosphere. I cannot tell you how many times I have pledged myself to God, vowing to myself to never do a particular sin again, and turned my back on sin; only to find myself a few hours or days later wallowing right back into the mire. But there is a subtle piece in this type of repentance that I have recently come to discover to be not at all Biblical. Did you catch it? Have many times have you told yourself that you would never _____ again, only find yourself failing over and over again in your personal commitments to abstain from sin. So, what are we depending on as our motivation and strength to pull us through those times of difficult temptation? Could it be that more often than not we look to our own self-righteousness to deliver us? One Sunday at church I borrowed Hannah’s copy of The Valley of Vision to read prior to communion in order to prepare my heart. Owing much to His benevolent sovereignty, the first Puritan prayer I opened up to was one that spoke directly towards this issue:

My Father,
When thou art angry towards me for my wrongs
I try to pacify thee by abstaining from future sin;
But teach me that I cannot satisfy thy law,
That this effort is a resting in my righteousness,
That only Christ’s righteousness,
Ready made, already finished,
Is fit for that purpose;
That thy chastising me for my sin
Is not that I should try to reform,
But only that I may be more humbled,
Afflicted, and separated from sin,
By being reconciled,
And made righteous in Christ by faith;
That a sense of sufficiency and ability in him
Is one means of my being immovable;
That I can never be so by resting on my own faith;
But by trusting in thee
As my only support, by faith;
That if I cast away my faith I cast away thee
That I fall short of the purity thou requirest,
Because in thinking I am holy
I do not seek holiness,
Or, believing I am impotent, I do no more.
Humble me for not being as holy as I should be,
Or as holy as I might be through Christ,
For thou art all and to possess thee is to possess all.
Lord, forgive me for this.

I can never satisfy God’s law, and so when I try to please God by abstaining from future sins, I am depending on my own righteousness to deliver me from temptation. This, in itself, is sin as well! Rather, my motivation for abstaining from sin should be that Christ has already make me perfect - by imputing His righteousness to my account because I have repented and believed- and my reaction to His marvelous mercy and grace is a desire to obedient and faithful for His name’s sake, and not my own.

To summarize thus far: I have found that I am a sinner by transgressing the Law, by falling short of holiness, and even having sinful motives – like self-righteousness – when repenting and desiring to abstain from sin. The other day I was confessing to God and as I did so I made a list of my shortcomings that I simply could not remove from my conscience. Here’s what I wrote:

“I am a liar. I am a thief. I am an adulterer. I am a hoax, I am a fake, I am a careening façade whimsically spurning the grace of God. I love what is evil and mock what is good. I am selfish, proud, arrogant, insolent, lustful, and every imagination that I have is bent towards wickedness. I tell others to repent of adultery when all the while I am doing it myself. I hide, I lurk, and I cover the things that I do in secret. I encourage my friends to love one another and be patient with their brothers and sisters when I, in fact, loathe and despise my own family. I am jealous and full of anger. I love those who love me, yet do it all with selfish motives and unmatched pride. My heart fills with hatred and disgust when I am wronged or corrected or neglected, even though I probably deserve every bit of it. I mock the saving grace by refusing His charity, I sneer at the cross by continually chasing after vanity, but worst of all: I shame the gospel of Christ by calling myself a lover of Jesus, while living like a whore.”

/\ I a m a s i n n e r. /\

The very same night that I read from the Valley of Vision, the Holy Spirit brought about in me the deepest conviction I have ever felt. My conscience became more and more sensitive and tender as I was pricked and prodded by the knowledge that I had sinned against my Holy Father. But the sin became heavier and heavier upon my back as my guilty conscience found no escape in my façade of self-righteousness that I had previously used in the attempt to justify my unholy living. The conviction became so strong that I could no longer deny the truth: it was I who had chased after other gods, and it was I who had dirtied the gospel of Christ by living like a harlot. And that night – for the second time in my life – I wept bitterly.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Now, I must pause here and ask the fundamental question that must be answered and that lingers in every mind. Once I am brought to conviction by the Holy Spirit by staring intently into the Law of God and finding that I have not kept it, by trembling at the glimpses of the holiness of God in Scripture and realizing that I can not meet it, and finally by finding that even all of my “righteous deeds” are like filthy rags… what ever am I to do?

“What do I do with conviction, what can I do with my sin? Can I ever be forgiven?”

I love the Old Testament. For it is in the words of the prophets and the psalmists that one finds such honest expressions of both dire despair and glorious hope. And the reason for this hope in the midst of despair is that this hope is anchored on the promises of the One who does not change, and in whom there is no shifting shadow. Indeed, this kind of hope is firm because it stands – as great men of old have often said – upon the very Rock of Ages. Listen to David’s cry in Psalm 130, a Song of Ascents, and watch him confess his utter helplessness on his own and then proceed to unwrap the grace of Yahweh, the holy One of Israel:

Out of the depths I have cried to You, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Your ears be attentive
To the voice of my supplications.
If You, Lord should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with You,
That You may be feared.

I wait for the Lord, my soul does wait,
And in His word do I hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than the watchmen for the morning;
Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, Hope in the Lord;
For with the Lord there is loving kindness,
And with Him is abundant redemption
And He will redeem Israel
From all his iniquities.

If God were to show us everything that we have ever done wrong, if He were to pull back the curtains that hide the Holy of Holies and allow His piercing light to shine on the sons of men to reveal the infernal darkness of our hearts, who then could stand in His presence? I’ve always found it fascinating that whenever you stumble upon an Old or New Testament saint who has been allowed just a brief snapshot of the glory of God, the reaction is always the same – Moses hid his face, Joshua fell on his face to the earth, Job repented in dust and ashes, Isaiah was undone, Ezekiel lost his words and fell on his face, the disciples were terrified and asked who could command the wind and the sea to obey Him, Jairus fell at His feet, Saul fell to the ground, and John fell at His feet like a dead man at the sight of the glorified Christ – w o r s h i p. Our God is a consuming fire who loves righteousness and demands perfection, and therefore hates wickedness and can not be sated by the blood of bulls. And all those who die and stand alone in their sin before the judgment seat of Christ covered only in their own unrighteousness to offer Him, will be given only what is just and fair and right and deserved. If God were to act solely upon His justice, He would have to send every single person to hell.

But God – rich in His mercy and grace – has so sovereignly chosen for the story not to end there. He has declared and made sure His salvation for His chosen people (“And He will redeem Israel from all his iniquities”). Did you catch the sudden shift in David’s tone? He spends the first three verses in despair, until the glorious knowledge of redemption begins to lift his countenance: “But there is forgiveness with You, that You may be feared.” Could you imagine what it would be like to hear David’s song if there was no hope of redemption? Of escape? No knowledge of the saving grace that only Christ can offer? I can only imagine that it would resound much like the dissonant cries of the any other person who is brought to the underlying reality of the utter lostness of man’s condition with no hope offered to him.

How intense the pain becomes when I begin to see with my eyes, and when I hear with my ears, and when I begin to feel with my heart that my soul is weighed down with my flesh, and my flesh is chained to the earth.

/\ I a m a s l a v e t o s i n. /\

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

And so there I was in the darkness – gasping for breath between deep – uncontrollable sobs, as a single ray of light pierced the darkness as the words of the prophet Zephaniah rang in my ear:

“Shout for joy, O daughter of Zion!
Shout in triumph, O Israel!
Rejoice and exult with all your heart,
O daughter of Jerusalem!
For the Lord has taken away His judgments against you…”
(Zeph. 3:14-15a)

After being so entirely overwhelmed with the sheer weight of my sin, this singular phrase, “the Lord has taken away His judgments against you” brought the most inebriating resonation throughout my soul. When I considered how much Israel had sinned and wandered, and the ability and grace of Yahweh to still grant repentance and pardon all her iniquity, I was reminded that however I may try to stain the water with my filth, His grace is the ocean. I can make no dent in the Rock of Ages; yet, He was cleft for me. I recalled that it was not for my name’s sake that He had forgiven me, but the sake of His Holy Name, which I had blasphemed and soiled by living the life of an adulterer that He had chosen to take away all of the wrath He had stored up against me and nail it on to Jesus, the spotless Lamb. The tears flowed freely down my face as a storm of thoughts raced furiously through my mind. I can still recall most of them:

“In that day you will feel no shame
Because of all your deeds
By which you have rebelled against Me…” (Zeph. 4:11)

Here is love, vast as the ocean
Loving kindness as a flood
When the Prince of Life for ransom
Shed for us His precious blood

Who His love will not remember
Who can cease to sing His praise?
He can never be forgotten
Throughout heav’n’s eternal days

On the mount of crucifixion
Fountains open deep and wide
Through the floodgates of God’s mercy
Flowed the vast and gracious tide

Grace and love like mighty rivers
Poured incessant from above
Heaven’s peace and perfect justice
Kissed a guilty world in love

“How blessed is he whose transgression is forgiven,
Whose sin is covered! How blessed is the man to whom the Lord does not impute iniquity,” (Psalm 32:1-2)

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

“The Lord redeems the soul of His servants, and none of those who take refuge in Him will be condemned.” (Psalm 34:22)

Alas! and did my Savior bleed,
and did my Sovereign die!
Would he devote that sacred head
for such a worm as I?

Was it for crimes that I had done,
he groaned upon the tree?
Amazing pity! Grace unknown!
And love beyond degree!

“Therefore, there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Rom. 8:1)

I felt much like Christian – from Pilgrim’s progress – when he finally found relief from his burden at the cross. A floodgate of tears continued to spill over as I remembered the moment all too well:

“How his burden had got on his back in the first place, and why nobody else had burdens – as happens in dreams – we are not told. But never had he been so eager as he was now to be ride of it. And that – did he but know it – was half the battle.

Now I saw in my dream that the road, from then on, was fenced on either side with a wall. The wall was named Salvation. Along this road did burdened Christian run. Or should we say, he did his best to run, so far as he could, with that load upon his back.

At the foot of a hill, he passed an open tomb. Then up again, upon a little knoll he found himself beneath a wayside cross. And as its shadow fell across him, so suddenly the burden, slipping from his shoulders, fell from off his back. It tumbled down the hill. It tumbled into the mouth of the tomb. It was never seen again.

Christian kept feeling behind his back. He couldn’t believe it. For it was very surprising to him that the simple cat of gazing at the cross had set him free, and his burden of guilt was gone.

As he stood there in amazement, behold, three Shining Ones appeared. The first one said:

"Your soul is now clean of sin."

The second stripped him of his mud-stained rags, and gave him bright new clothes. The third one handed him a parchment.

"Guard it carefully, he said, and surrender it only when you have reached the gate of the Celestial City."

Great dangers lay ahead of him, but for the moment, he was light as air."

At last I truly understood what a poet once wrote about this most liberating moment:

Long my imprisoned spirit lay,
Fast-bound in sin and nature’s night,
Thine eye diffused the quickening ray,
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light,
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

/\ I a m f o r g i v e n . /\

By this time, my face was all red and blotchy and altogether different from what it had been just a few minutes before. The moment was gone and sealed away forever in the Great Book. My countenance had been lifted – yet a haunting specter of doubt and uncertainty remained…

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~


~*~ The End of the Beginning ~*~

Shadowland

~*~ A Prelude ~*~

How vain are all things here below!
How false, and yet how fair! Each
pleasure has its poison too,
And every sweet, a snare…

The fondness of a creature’s love,
How strong it strikes the sense!
Thither the warm affections move
Nor can we call them thence.

-Isaac Watts

This short poem was written by Watts [the famous hymnist who wrote “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” “Joy to the World,” and many others] during a very disappointing season in his life when he came to realize that every thing on this side of eternity can not satisfy the creature’s longing and will always fall short of our great expectations. He happened to be thirty-two when the woman whom he had loved and befriended utterly rejected him at his proposal for marriage. Amidst struggling with the heartache, he wrote this poem and committed to being single for the rest of his life, devoting himself entirely to the service of the kingdom of God. Watts is now recognized as the "Father of English Hymnody", as he was the first prolific and popular English hymnwriter, credited with some 750 hymns.

~*~

I find it to be particularly fascinating that the people in history - whom God has used in mighty ways to do great and noble things for His name’s sake - are also the ones whom He has had to wound deeply before ushering them in to a great calling (“we stand on the shoulders of giants”: just read the stories of Martin Luther, Augustine, or Charles Spurgeon, among the many others and you will find pain and suffering and hardship like few have known). But both the harsh reality and unforgiving sting of suffering tend to veil our eyes from seeing the long-term benefits of persevering in the midst of fiery and unrelenting trials. But that is exactly what suffering is to the believer: a trial. God is putting our faith to the stand. It’s as if God is whispering in our ear, “You say that you have faith. But will you trust Me even if I tear your world apart?” I think Lewis said it well that “pain is God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Think for a moment about how life would be if there were no difficulties, no stresses, no friends dying, no families falling apart, no relationships failing… what apathetic people we would be! Rather, one reason I believe that God allows such things to happen is so that we would be forced to come to grips with our own frailty and inability to save ourselves. We need a Savior to deliver us both from the pains of living in a broken earth and the heaviness of conscience that comes from the unbearable weight of sin in our lives. God uses suffering to wake us up from the dull, dreary, and grey twilight of daily, monotonous and hell-bound living, to open our eyes to bursting sunrise of His marvelous glory and grace.

I’m always encouraged by Paul’s letter to the Roman’s:

Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us. (Romans 5:1-5)

Did you catch that? Paul said that we don’t just have reason to have joy in the hope of God’s glory, but we also have much reason to have joy in our trials! And he then lists out the promises and results of persevering and rejoicing even in the hard times, when pain of suffering takes its toll.

Kristie Brazelton makes an incredible point:

Would you trust Him in your hunger,
If the famine never came?
And would you run to Him for shelter,
If you never knew the rain?

Often we can’t see the reason for the suffering
Or the purpose in the pain
But like the darkest skies
Giving stars their brightest shine
So his grace is magnified.

Faith isn’t faith without fire.

This leads to a second reason – that I have recently discovered – which helps to imbue some meaning into suffering. Namely, that pain produces scars that become trophies of God’s grace. Remember back to the gospels when Jesus appeared to his followers after he had risen from the dead. What I find fascinating about this story is that although the Messiah had defeated death, conquered the grave, and dealt the deadly blow to Satan and his minions, he still bore the SCARS of his suffering. He had retained the holes in his hands and in his side. But why? Why didn’t he appear to them as he had before on the mountain top with Elijah and Moses? I find two reasons: 1) this further magnifies the glory of Christ in the completed work on the cross and 2) because this allows Christ to identify with our sufferings, and therefore unite ours into His. In reference to the first point, I encourage you to remember how John saw the risen Christ:

And I saw between the throne (with the four living creatures) and the elders a Lamb standing, as if slain, having seven horns and seven eyes, which are the seven Spirits of God, sent out into all the earth. And He came and took the book out of the right hand of Him who sat on the throne. When He had taken the book, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each one holding a harp and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying,

“Worthy are You to take the book and to break its seals; for You were slain, and purchased for God with Your blood men from every tribe and tongue and people and nation.” (Revelation 5:6-9)

John saw the risen Christ not just as the returning Warrior – riding on His War-Horse and suited in His War-Clothes – but as the slain Lamb. Did you catch the irony in verse 6? The slain Lamb is standing! Although He had most certainly been wounded and killed, He triumphed over His enemies and stands – still bearing the scars of the battle. Why? Because this just emphasizes the epic nature of His victory and therefore magnifies His glory: though He was smitten, he was not destroyed; though He was crushed mightily, He did not fail; and though He was slain, He stands. And the reaction from all those gathered around the throne is “Worthy are You…for You were slain…” It is a truth that will always lead to worship in the heart of a follower of Jesus Christ.

But the second cause I find to explain why Christ still bears the scars of His suffering is one that we can all find comfort in. We can take deep comfort from the fact that our God is One familiar with the heartache of loss, weight of temptation, the pain of rejection, and the sting of suffering. He understands what it is like to be tempted – indeed much more than we do because He didn’t and couldn’t give in. Therefore He felt the full weight of the agony (it is the contrast between how you and I give in at hour 3 of temptation, and how He patiently endured every hour after… even to the point of death), when we just feel the shadow of death pass over us. He is a God who is near, and not far off. He is the great High Priest who can both sympathize with His people and stand in their defense. In The Magician’s Nephew – the Chronicle about the founding of Narnia – C.S. Lewis illustrates this point beautifully. Digory, a young boy who is privileged to see Aslan sing Narnia into existence, is beset with the fact that his mother is ill and not likely to live much longer back in the real world. Not only that, but he has made a terrible mistake by accidentally bringing in Jadis, the witch who would eventually claim Narnia as her own in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. And it is in this context that we find an honest moment between Digory and Aslan:

“I asked, are you ready?” said the Lion.

“Yes,” said Digory. He had had for a second some wild idea of saying, “I'll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with. But when he had said “Yes”, he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

“But please, please – won’t you – can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up until then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia. The Witch whom you have brought into this world will come back to Narnia again. But it need not be yet. It is my wish to plant in Narnia a tree that she will not dare to approach, and that tree will protect Narnia from her for many years. So this land shall have a long, bright morning before any clouds come over the sun. You must get me the seed from which that tree is to grow.”

“Yes, sir,” said Digory. He didn’t know how it was to be done but he felt quite sure now that he would be able to do it. The Lion drew a deep breath, stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion’s kiss. And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him.

“Dear son,” said Aslan, “I will tell you what you must do.”

When I was about 12 years old, I was mauled by the next door neighbor’s Chow – which landed me in the hospital with 23 stitches and an ear limply hanging off the right side of my face. Fortunately, the doctor was able to salvage my ear. But – to this day – even though I am horrified whenever I think back upon the moments of agonizing pain and the difficult recovery that followed afterwards, I find myself equally thankful that the doctor was able to save me. When I look at the scars on my chest (where the beast imbedded his vicious canines) and feel the irregular bump behind my ear, I am reminded of Salvation. My scars are monuments of Grace. Every time I look back upon my life and wince as I recollect the mistakes, the sins, the wanderings, the disobedience, the stupidity, the foolishness, and the hurts, I cannot help but say (with the firmest disposition) “Yet, He is faithful.” When I find myself in Digory’s shoes – in the deepest despair with no sign of any hope on the way – I know that I am not alone. Tears fill my eyes when I look upon my own scars, but hope lifts my soul when I gaze upon His. For in His face I find a life touching my own.

~*~

So as we seek to live lives that bring glory our majestic Creator, let us never forget that God uses our suffering both for our good and His glory. And not only that, but we have GREAT reason to hope and believe and rejoice even when our world does (and it most certainly will) fall apart.

God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble,
Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth should change
And though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea;
Though its waters roar and foam,
Though the mountains quake at its swelling pride…
The Lord of hosts [lit. “The Lord who commands armies”] is with us;
The God of Jacob is our stronghold. (Psalm 46:1-3, 7)

I find it very easy to relate to Watts’ struggle. In fact, I just wrote this short verse awhile ago when confronted with a similar frustration:

For every single mighty man,
The enemy holds his bane.
So also every pleasure here,
Is equal in its pain.

-Jonathan Roberts ;)

However, I am quickly reminded that perhaps one reason for God to allow such dissatisfaction and distaste from the world around me to embitter my senses, is to hearken me back to the glorious truth that I was not made for this world. My citizenship is in heaven; I am only passing through (thank you, Hannah). Again, it was Lewis who said that when he heard that a man can not find any satisfaction or belonging in this world, his only conclusion was that he must be made for another.

And it is to that fairer and brighter world that we belong. For though on Jordan’s stormy banks we stand, we are bound for the Promised Land. Higher and higher we ascend, as every perilous step brings us closer to the peak of Mount Zion – the city of the Great King.

We this hope as an anchor for our soul.