One demon to another

The following are excerpts form the Screwtape Letters. The devil has many minions or "tempters" and here we see one senior "tempter" writing to a junior "tempter" as to how deceive a follower of God.

"Men are not angered by mere misfortune but by misfortune conceived as injury. And the sense of injury depends on the feeling that a legitimate claim has been denied. The more claims on life, therefore that your patient can be induced to make, the more often he will feel injured and as a result, ill-tempered.

Now you will have noticed that nothing throws him (the human) into a passion so easily as to find a tract of time which he reckoned on having at his own disposal unexpectedly taken from him. It is the unexpected visitor (when he looked forward to a quiet evening) or the friends talkative wife that throw him out of gear... They anger him because he regards his time as his own and feels that it is being stolen. You must therefore zealously guard in his mind the curious assumption 'My time is my own'. Let him have the feeling that he starts each day as the lawful possessor of twenty-four hours.

The sense of ownership in general is always to be encouraged. The humans are always putting up claims to ownership which sound equally funny in Heaven and in Hell and we must keep them doing so. "

The devil is quite brilliant in his ways.

What do you think about?

When You're free, what do you think about?

Psalm 69:9 speaks of "...zeal for your house has consumed me." I think about this and such an attitude should be honorable no?

This past year I find myself consumed with spiritual thoughts. I'm constantly thinking. I spend nights laying awake in my bed asking questions like "How can I teach this better?" or "How can I better help my church?, or perhaps "How can I set up this Bible study in a good way?" Not bad things to think about right? I'm constantly thinking of how I can be a good preacher, or teacher, or an overall better Christian. I feel consumed by such thoughts.

Yet, one thing I find myself not thinking about nearly as much as I use to is this....God. I find myself consumed with spiritual things but often God is not in the equation. Even when I read scripture now, I think to myself "How would I preach this?" Or "How can I apply this to those around me?" Things are much more scholarly now.

Sometimes I think I just love Christianity. That doesn't mean I love the God of Christianity. I love spiritual things, but they are often not a lens to see the God behind it. I become so narrow focused, that I fail to see the big picture. I think of the kingdom, but I fail to think of the king. I fail to grow in my love for him or even know him.

I realized that I use to think more about God a whole lot more than I do now. Things were simpler then. I use to look at the sky and the different colors and I use to praise God and ask "what must God be like to create such things" I feel somewhat deceived. Maybe I am. Surely the devil would not want me to have realized this.

In the end, I simply want to think upon God more.

A sure word, but not the last word

C.S Lewis states "God cares nothing about temples built, but temples building." What does he mean by this? Any understanding of God must be a dynamic growing experience. Anyone that parks in the place thinking they are in a permanent understanding of truth, failing to understand the complexities of reality, surely brings peril to their soul. We don't have a last word about anything. However, this doesn't mean we can't have a sure word.

1 Cor 2:16 talks of the mind of Christ. What does this mean? Does this imply that we have omniscience? More likely I think it is a gift or resource that we are to exhaust and plumb as much as possible. Truth can always be plumbed or applied more deeply.

I heard a story of Charles Feinberg, one of the former leaders of Talbot. One day he was seen walking to class, it looked as if he was on air. When asked why he was in such a good mood, he states "I just finished reading the Bible for the 200th time..." This doesn't include reading it in greek, hebrew, etc. When asked "Are you still getting anything out of it?" He slowly looks up and states.."Every...single...page.."! Surely such stories should keep us from stating "we've got it all figured out." There are absolutes, but we don't know any truth absolutely.


"The temple of my soul is way too small, Lord would you enlarge it so that you may enter in"

Hound of Heaven

Excerpts from the Hound of Heaven by Francis Thompson. The Hound representing God is chasing Thompson who is running away, not realizing the desire he is seeking is what he is running away from. He tethers his life to thing after thing til finally he is wasted and face down, which is when the hound finally catches up with him. Anything that keeps you from God, is betraying you.

I fled Him, down the nights and down the days;
I fled Him down the arches of the years;
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears
I hid from Him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped;
And shot, precipitated,
Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fears,
From those strong Feet that followed, followed after.
But with unhurrying chase
And unpreturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat—and a Voice beat
More instant than the Feet—
“All things betray thee, who betrayest Me.”
….
“Naught shelters thee, who wilt not shelter Me.”
….
“Lo naught contents thee, who content’st not Me.”
….

Now of that long pursuit
Comes on at hand the bruit;
That Voice is round me like a bursting sea:
“And is thy earth so marred,
Shattered in shard on shard?
Lo, all things fly thee, for thou flyest Me!
Strange, piteous, futile thing,
Wherefore should any set thee love apart?
Seeing none but I makes much of naught” (He said),
“And human love needs human meriting:
How hast thou merited—
Of all man’s clotted clay the dingiest clot?
Alack, thou knowest not
How little worthy of love thou art!
Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee
Save Me, save only Me?
All which I took from thee I did but take,
Not for thy harms,
But just that thou might’st seek it in My arms.
All which thy child’s mistake
Fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at home;
Rise clasp my hand, and come!”

Halts by me that footfall:
Is my gloom, after all,
Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly?
“Ah, fondest, blindest, weakest,
I am He, Whom thou seekest!
Thou dravest love from thee, who dravest Me.”

--Francis Thompson, “The Hound of Heaven”

Hamlet Meets Shakespeare

C.S Lewis, before he came to believe in Christianity, believed that the notion that man could know God personally was as ridiculous as Hamlet knowing William Shakespeare. Eventually after a long and thoughtful process, Lewis reluctantly came to believe that Christianity was true where he then converted.

He later realized that the metaphor he had used before was actually a good one. For Hamlet could never break himself out of the play, but Shakespeare, the author, could write himself into the story...........

Now imagine if you were Hamlet, and you were running through some green vineyards where you suddenly met some short, long stocking, pointy bearded fellow. He proclaims to you that he is Shakespeare, your creator and author who has written himself into the story. What would you think about this fellow? Surely one would think him to be crazy....

Think about it.....

Love Personified

Sorry I know it's been awhile since I blogged, but i've been doing a lot of personal reading lately so i'll get back on it. Following is a poem I read by George Herbert. Love personified in Christ, beckons the one overcome by guilt etc. How beautiful it is to see Love incline himself towards the one who draws back. So Good.

Love
By George Herbert


Love bade me welcome, yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning
If I lack'd anything.

"A guest," I answer'd, "worthy to be here";
Love said, "You shall be he."
"I, the unkind, the ungrateful? ah my dear,
I cannot look on thee."
Love took my hand and smiling did reply,
"Who made the eyes but I?"

"Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them; let my shame
Go where it doth deserve."
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.