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.