It is Well with My Soul

It is well, it is well, with my soul. Some of us may know the hymn and the story behind this hymn quite well, but it is always worth retelling. Horatio Spafford was said to have penned this hymnal during a ship journey where "well" may be the last word you would use to describe Spafford's circumstances. Spafford was a well-known lawyer in Chicago in the middle of the 19th century. He had wealth, respect, and a large family consisting of four daughters and an only son. But what would be the beginning of a string of tragedies began-- his son passed away at age four, the next year brought the fires that destroyed Chicago and much of Spafford's investments. In 1873, Spafford decided to take his family on holiday in England, but was delayed because of business. His wife and daughters went ahead on the ship the Ville Du Havre, and the ship was struck by another vessel, killing 226 people, including all four of Spafford's daughters. His wife sent a telegram once in England that stated "Saved Alone." It was on the journey over the Atlantic to meet his wife that Spafford put the words down to "It is Well with My Soul."

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul.

(Refrain:) It is well (it is well),

with my soul (with my soul),

It is well, it is well with my soul.

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,

Let this blest assurance control,

That Christ hath regarded my helpless estate,

And hath shed His own blood for my soul.

(Refrain)

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought!

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to His cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul!

(Refrain)

Given his circumstances, these lyrics reach a depth that speaks to the truth of the Gospel. It seems that the person who places more trust in Jesus, the more resilient and content that they remain in the face of the deepest sorrows. And this isn't a cop-out! It isn't an incorrect or partial reality that makes this possible, but a full reality that is only found in the Gospel. If Christ had flown from the cross, we too might fly from our problems through only choosing to think positively, or to escape in the infinite ways the world offers, or to meditate our problems out of our heads. We might find some healthy coping mechanisms, or we might plunge into our own destructive patterns, but in the end, we never would truly enter into the sorrow. But Christ died on Calvary so that we might face our sorrows head on, entering into them with God's promise, and finding the Joy through the sorrow. If we hadn't a God who died, then we would never know resurrection. And without knowing resurrection as a reality, then we are not equipped to honestly and fearlessly face the sorrows of life that we will all experience.

I look at Spafford's circumstances and see a man, who, if the Gospel weren't true and didn't have true power, would have crumbled under the immense tragedy that had befallen him. And who could have blamed him? Such circumstances we are, most of us, fortunate to avoid. Had he been bolstered by a good philosophy, or good religion, or a combination thereof, his fate may have been different. If we are putting all of our trust in ourselves, our own abilities, our capabilities to maintain and hold things together, then we really are no match for unexpected tragedy. We may think we are god over our own fate, but our control is a delusion, and it only works when things are going our way.

Consider what Christ said in the book of Matthew, chapter 7: 24"Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on the house, but it did not fall because it had been founded on the rock." Like Edward wrote in 1834, On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.

The Gospel doesn't ask us to avoid trouble, or to see trouble and struggle as an illusion. The Gospel asks us to look at the mighty cross and see how the darkest trouble of all is defeated, that with every death there is a resurrection, and that no matter what may befall us, we have been rescued and ransomed. We don't go, therefore, with fake smiles, or have trite answers in the face of tragedy. We grieve, but we do not despair. Our hearts may break, but our hope is in the greatest promise of redemption, renewal, and resurrection. And for this, Horatio Spafford, a man who suffered immeasurably, could say, with breaking heart, that "It is well with my soul."

Revisiting 'Mere Christianity'

It has been nearly eight years since I read, for the first time, Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, but it had been on my radar for much longer. The writings of C.S. Lewis had an interesting way of showing up in my life as a university student, where I was proud of my free-thinking, trail-blazing individualism and secular-humanist approach to life. It was never that I disbelieved in God, it was simply that I thought we came to know God experientially, on our own terms. While I still think that half of that is true: we do meet God experientially; the great fallacy of my position was the omission of the possibility that God might introduce His terms into the deal, and that they are the best, and only, terms on the market. During this time, an acquaintance was moving and was getting rid of his books. One of the books that I grabbed was The Screwtape Letters, having no idea that I was about to read a thoroughly Christian treatise on the nature of Evil. I read it, and was amazed to find how much sense the novel, in the form of letters between two demons, made. It did not convert me, but I know that it planted a seed. A second encounter with Lewis was also in university, when an old friend of mine, whom I had met in Colorado but was a fellow Georgian, sent me a copy of "The Grand Miracle" (which was part of Miracles) along with a cassette of Hammond B3 master Jimmy Smith. I understood the cassette, because we were both music lovers. And we were also both big readers and both English literature majors. Yet, I couldn't understand why he sent me a book about God. He wasn't a Christian and never became one, as far as I know, so it was odd that he sent me the book. I read it and realized that he sent it to me in part because of the great mind of C.S. Lewis and the power of his pen. I also look back on that and like to think that there was, perhaps more going on behind the scenes, that the Holy Spirit was there in the woodwork, slowly, patiently, lovingly reeling me in back to the shore.
When I committed my life to Christ in 2005, one of the first things I did was go out and buy a copy of Mere Christianity. I think I tore through it in a matter of days, and then regurgitated it to whomever might listen, in Bible studies, in conversation. At that time, C.S. Lewis was the voice in the wilderness for me. His writing helped me make sense of what it really means to be a Christian, not the lame caricature of the Christian life that had I often thought I saw on display. Over the past week, I have been carrying around a copy to give to a friend, but our schedules haven't allowed us to yet meet. So, here and there, I have been diving back into the work, and rediscovering it again. Although I had nearly forgotten most parts of the book, I realized as I was rereading just how much it had helped shape my early Christian life and my current understanding of the Gospel. I'm going to cherry-pick just three excerpts that leapt out at me during my most recent reading. There are so many great nuggets here, that it's pretty difficult to choose only three, but here goes:

1. Goodness is, so to speak, itself: badness is only spoiled goodness. And there must be something good first before it can be spoiled (44).

In the first chapter of Genesis, it says, "God saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was good" (Gen. 1:31). This is important, because I think we have a tendency to hold a dualistic view of the world where there is good and there is evil. But think, for a moment, about some truly good things in life. Let's take food, for example. Food is wonderful, and it is a reflection of the provision that God has given us in the garden. And it goes eons beyond mere provision: it gives us immense pleasure. A good meal should point to God. It reflects the kind of co-creation that Adam and Eve had in the Garden. Good food requires work, some time, creativity, and resources. And in the hands of a master chef, ordinary ingredients can be combined to create a transcendental experience. Food is good. But..., and there is always a but, we are prone to have a fallen relationship with what we eat. This fallen relationship might lead us to food addiction, to gluttony, to greed. It might lead us to laziness, where we  become accustomed to tasting food but never preparing a good meal. Our taste buds can be corrupted to only crave unhealthy, fast foods. The industrialization of food can lead to environmental, social, and health problems. For example, beef production in America is tied directly to soil and water degradation and accounts for a large number of greenhouse gas emissions (click here for more details), all so we can consume more meat than at any other time in history. While we know that food is good, we can see how our relationship with it is problematic. And don't get me wrong, I'm not simply advocating better food practices. I think that the more people that eat better and more responsibly, and share meals with people and help feed the poor will make the world a better place, of course. But I think, that if that is all, it's a bit like trying to dress a gunshot wound with a bandaid. We corrupt good things because we are fallen, and even our "good intentions" will eventually screw things up. We need a more radical change, and only the kind that we cannot do on our own, but in the person of Christ. "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28, my italics). Those dreams that we have for a healthy and just world are exactly what God is working to redeem for us and in us through Christ. It will all be good once again.

2. Your real, new self (which is Christ's and also yours, and yours just because it is His) will not come as long as you are looking for it. It will come when you are looking for Him.... Give up yourself, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it... Nothing that you have not given away will be really yours. Nothing in you that has not died will be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in. (227-228).

One of the great ironies I have found in my Christian life is this great, counter-intuitive truth that is found in Matthew 10:39. "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." I have spent a whole lot of energy in dreaming up my identity as a man, in how I’m educated, my tastes, my activities, my outlook, job, etc. infinite...  I have always tried my hardest to be what we moderns call “self-actualized”; meaning, I see what I want my life to be and I make it that by my own effort and will. This idea is popular in our current milieu, and you will see it promulgated everywhere.  It is something that I think I often tell myself. But think about all those things I’m juggling in life. All those details that I feel I’d need to get perfect to be who I really want to be. How anxious it makes me to just simply think about it. And that is without thinking of the million ways that I fall short of my ideal self. I fall short as a husband, as a teacher, a friend, a humanitarian, and basically in every respect. Now multiply that initial anxiety with my shortcomings and we have, as Lewis points out, a perfect recipe for "hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay." The truth is I really need God.

When I first started investigating Christianity, I was worried that if I gave myself over to this, I would lose my identity. But the radical truth is that God is supplanting my old, corrupted, and dying identity with one that is the best version of myself. I was honestly worried that I was going to become a "weird" Christian, who loses his taste in music and fashion, shuns liberal politics, and becomes ferociously "anti" everything fun. I did begin to examine all of those things more deeply, but it doesn't mean that my entire personality changed. But something did change, deep in my heart, and that change is still taking place, turning me into the new man that Christ wants me to become, outfitting me with my best attributes redeemed, making me a crown. God wants my all so He can ultimately redeem it all and make the me beyond my most passionate dreams.  

The irony, the paradox, the counter-intuitive truth of the Gospel, is that when I give my life to Christ, when I lose it in him, I gain the ideal. Not perfectly and not yet, but I see that now in my future, in my eternity, that I am made like Christ but I am Justin: a unique, wonderful version of Christ. I lose my life to gain it. 

3. What can you ever really know of other people's souls-- of their temptations, their opportunities, their struggles? One soul in the whole creation you do know: and it is the only one whose fate is placed in your hands. If there is a God, you are, in a sense, alone with Him. You cannot put Him off with speculations about your next door neighbors or memories of what you have read in books. What will all that chatter and hearsay count (will you even be able to remember it?) when the anaesthetic fog which we call 'nature' or 'the real world' fades away and the Presence in which you have always stood becomes palpable, immediate, and unavoidable? (217)

What, in the quiet recesses of the day, do we tell ourselves? What do we hear; what are the deepest rumblings in our soul trying to tell us about reality? I'd wager that most of us turn on the music, the television; or we turn to chores, housework, cooking; or, even better, we dive into books and lectures. What lengths we will go to not have to ponder the big questions-- Why are we here? What is the deal with morality? Why is there beauty, love, community, family; and then so much heartbreaking hate, violence, and greed infecting everything? Why are we here, on this planet, in the middle of the vast universe, with seemingly no purpose but to try and scrape by as best as we can while we are here? Why do I hurt people, why do I hurt myself? We conjure up our realities and try and not think about it too long, covering our lives with work, activities, relationships, Kakao talk, Facebook, yoga, exercise, diets, and the infinite to-do-lists-du-jour.

But suppose, for a moment, that we take Psalm 46:10 seriously, and truly... "Be still... and know... that I am God." 

There's a great line in a Wilco song that I apply to myself whenever I find that I've been so far into my distractions that I forget the wonder, the beauty, and the mystery of being alive. "It's become so obvious, you are so oblivious to yourself." (Pot Kettle Black, 2002). When I'm done painting my own picture of reality, God is there, waiting, inviting, knocking, imploring me to just be quiet and know Him, and that He is pulling me through the death and decay of the world into a greater narrative. Know that we are inside of a story far greater than the ones we manufacture for ourselves everyday. And know that when it all falls away, and it all will..., that we will stand before the throne of the Author of all that is real and either say we have responded to and tried to know Him, or that we have spent our lives crowding Him out by our own agenda, our diversions, and distractions. 

Put that in your pipe and smoke it!

The Great Banquet

Jan Luyken, 17th Century engraving, "Invitation to the Great Banquet"

In the The Parable of the Great Banquet, Jesus tells the story of a man who prepares a great feast and invites a long, illustrious list of guests, and then sends his servant to deliver the invitation. But the servant runs into excuse... after excuse... after excuse. I just bought a new field, or I just acquired five new oxen, or I just got married. When the man hears this, he gets angry, and rightfully so. When we go out of our way to make a celebration for people, and they refuse to even make an appearance, it can be hurtful. It is a sure indicator of where one is on the list of people's priorities. It undermines their worth and importance in the hearts of others. So this man sends out the servants again to gather the poor, the blind, the crippled, and the lame. Evidently, these folks were not too busy, and they make it to the fiesta. Yet there is still room, so the man sends the servant out again to grab more of the dispossessed and undesirables. And the man says at the end, "Not one of those who were invited will get a taste of my banquet."(Luke 14:24).

Now, it may be an inclination for a believer to take a step back, nod their heads, and say, see, God has offered His banquet but look at all of these people who make excuses, or refuse because they have more important things to do. And this is certainly an important application: God is like the man, the servant is like Christ, and God has invited mankind into His fullness and bounty; and yet many refuse. For we who have responded, at least initially, to the invitation of Christ, know that God invites us into a Kingdom reality, one that enlivens the senses, deepens the significance of all events, and brings us into a surprising community of love, truth, peace, and divine grace. We are surprised to find at the banquet the greatest party on earth, one where there are no strangers, and one where the host has spared no expense to show us love.  

But what is the application for the one, like me, who has already accepted the invitation? Surely if this story makes me feel smug and secure in my own choices, decisions, and behaviors, then I have dramatically missed the meaning as it is intended for me. 

Will I really be at the feast? First, I have to look at the cast of characters and see who I identify with. Am I one of the poor and needy, or am I more like the man on the mission, someone who has a daily agenda and a busy life, often too busy to do anything unless it fits into my schedule and brings some benefit to my life? How many times have I said, sorry, I can't make it, I just got a lot going on right now? How important do I think I am, and how open is my super important schedule to let God truly work in my life through other people? An honest assessment would find my schedule pretty full of my agenda and would find my sense of importance ridiculously high on the scale. Sure, I have responded to God's invitation-- I call myself a Christian, I believe that Christ has reconciled me to the loving arms of my Creator, I have RSVP'd with an affirmative reply. I will go, Lord. Yet... in many ways, I'm still here, checking off my to-do list, consumed by my future endeavors, and always under a subtle anxiety created by my own ever-expanding, never-ending agenda.

Have you ever been to a really great party? One that has great people, great music, atmosphere, food, beverage, etc.? Have you ever been anywhere where in that particular time, you are truly enjoying the moment, released from daily anxieties, not thinking about tomorrow, and not worried about the thousands of things that have to be done? Just enjoying and living in and for the moment? Some parties, or places, or events in our life have this transcendent quality, one that takes us from the mundane worries of life, releases us from anxiety, and raises us above our native states-- for these moments, we taste joy.

And yet...how is this possible? In large part it is because we feel, in these moments, that we are lacking nothing. In the case of a party or banquet, much of joy is derived directly from what has been provided by the host. Most often we bring very little, other than ourselves, to a good party. But because of what the host has provided, the people arrive, and enjoy themselves. Imagine what provision God offers us. Imagine the celebration that He has planned. We cannot even fathom how truly great it will be. Yet, as time goes on and our schedules fill, we are becoming more and more likely to miss the party.

Pieter Bruegel, 16th century.

There are too many verses to count that describe God's provision for us. Here is a nice long list. But let's look at just one section: Matthew 6:25-34 is of such importance, and yet it is all but impossible in our cultures, where anxiety and stress are near-virtues, to apply to our lives. Jesus is saying, Do not be anxious about our material reality-- our bodies, our clothes, the food we eat. He doesn't say that we should ignore them, or forget about them,  or pretend that material concerns are merely illusory; but Jesus is telling us not to be consumed by these things to the point of anxiety. And then comes a dose of heavenly logic in verse 27: "And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?" Christ goes on to equate anxiety with lack of faith in verse 30. Do we trust God, or do we trust ourselves more? In our cultures we are taught that we are the arbiters of our own fate, that by our own work and our own hands we will thrive, or just survive, or struggle, or perish. Our cultural input is like the Gentiles in verse 33, "For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all." This has an important application. In Korea, what are most people seeking? Education, a secure job in Seoul, a large apartment, a certain kind of car? These are the signs of the successful, and they provide a rabbit for many of us to chase. Again, notice: God isn't saying these things are unimportant. Remember, Christ tells us, "... your heavenly Father knows that you need them all." Well, maybe not the luxury car or the big apartment in Gangnam, but he knows that we need certain elements to live full lives. God isn't recruiting monks and ascetics here. But when we elevate things or situations to the status of things that will make us happy and give us joy (they never can), they become idols (we all have them) and idols always bring anxiety. Why? Because idols never give what they seem to promise-- joy, fullness, and satisfaction. Jesus is asking us to trust Him for these. He is inviting us to his free banquet where we may come as we are and the host requires only that we show up.

How do we trust God fully when our shaky foundations of well-being are dependent-- absolutely hooked on-- our to-do lists? I love the last verse from the above section of Matthew 6, because it applies to EVERYTHING in our lives. "But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you." (v. 33, my emphasis). Apply this to any situation, and trust it, and the consuming fears and anxieties of our shortcomings and worries, what we have and don't have, will palpably diminish. Seek God first. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind" (Matthew 22:37). For, as the Psalmist says, "All my springs are in you" (Psalms 87:7) because when we seek God first we are going to the source of ALL things. We become more involved with our relationship with God than how we are going to fix all our problems. And, not to sound formulaic, but chances are we become less self-consumed, less agenda-oriented, and thus, more open and loving and listening and compassionate people. Our consumption lessens and our giving increases. Our anger and frustration (both reactive impulses) gives way to loving action and positive change. We are less greedy, less bitter, and more sharing and loving. In short, we are better citizens, friends, family members, students, etc. Ironic, because all of our to-do lists promise us we will be better people, when in fact, they just drive us further and further into ourselves-- deepening the cycle of self-absorption.

Why do we-- who profess to love God and His plan of renewal-- why do we still fill our days with our to-do lists before we go to God? Because we still cannot let go of the reigns of control. We still want to be lord of our life, and we do not yet have the faith that what God has in store for us is infinitely better than anything we can conjure up on our own. We hold it a virtue to postpone joy until our to-do list is done (it is NEVER done!); and yet God invites us, through his servant Jesus Christ, to the Banquet, now. Not later. He calls us to celebrate with Him, to be present at the greatest party on earth and in heaven, to honor and fully enjoy that the Light of the World has rescued and renewed us.

Prayer:
Lord, forgive the tendency of my idolatrous heart to place more importance in my own agenda than to respond to your incredible invitation to enjoy you and your Kingdom. Lord, give me faith that trusts in your Covenant promise of reconciliation and redemption, and truly know that all will be well when I am in You, first and foremost. As you say, tommorow will worry about itself, but today, now, you invite me into your fullness through your servant Christ Jesus. Lord, give me eyes to see and ears to hear and the heart to know that your Banquet is infinitely better and everlasting compared to the temporal charms and trifles of what I can scrounge together here on earth. Lord, give me the faith, like Paul, to be content in all situations because I know You, the true source of Joy. I love You and thank You in the name of your son, Christ Jesus. Amen.

Book Report: Bonhoeffer by Eric Metaxas

A young German theologian by the name of Diedrich Bonhoeffer was given a teaching position at a famous New York seminary just as the situation in Nazi germany became very dangerous for a man who preached Christ. In New York, at the Union Theological Seminary he would be safe, would have ample time for further theological studies, and would be given a handsome salary and a prestigious position. In other words, he would be a perfectly suitable man of high Christian ideas, a philosopher, writer, and pastor.
Instead, Bonhoeffer declined the generous offers and safety of the U.S. and boarded a ship returning to Europe, to Germany, and into direct personal danger.
This fantastic book by Eric Metaxes aptly and beautifully tells the story of a man whose principles and faith led him to go beyond the world of ideas and peripheral religion in order to follow the narrow path of action, even in the face of mortal danger. Bonhoeffer's faith in God led him directly into the lion's den, out of which he would never leave with his life. And yet the actions of this man have left us with the quintessential legacy of a true twentieth century hero. The world might yet look on Nazi Germany as a collectively hopeless, dark and twisted, cruel and insane epoch-- yet Bonhoeffer shows us that from the heart of such a hell, a light was shining for God's kingdom. And though he lost his life, his light has continued to shine, and the world is better for it.
Metaxes uses eye-witness accounts, letters, interviews, and Bonhoeffer's own writings to show that Bonhoeffer's ultimate decision to become a part of a conspiracy to assassinate Adolph Hitler was not a departure from his Christian life, but rather a difficult, agonizing decision that was born from his faith. Bonhoeffer was himself a pacifist, but he began to see in Adolph Hitler and the whole terrible German predicament a dark desperation which called for something beyond his own capacities. As he saw it, he felt like a Jeremiah, who "was not eager to become a prophet of God. When the call came to him...he shrank back, he resisted, he tried to get away." Perhaps Bonhoeffer's trip to New York was a last attempt to avoid the terrible fate that he probably suspected awaited him. And we might have had a great theologian grow old and write many things, but we wouldn't have had a Bonhoeffer as we know him today. 

One of the themes that arises in the book is the vast difference between "playing Church"-- being "religious", a good church-goer, and generally moderate in faith-- and true Christianity, as in the true following of Christ. The church situation in Nazi Germany shows exactly how a negligent theology could lead people over the edge of a cliff.
Metaxes provides in this biography a glimpse into the spiritual implications of the Nazi situation. The state church was overrun by the Third Reich and the message from the pulpit became anything but Christian. For a pastor such as Bonhoeffer, who continued to preach the Gospel, the entire political struggle in Germany was reinforced by the spiritually bankrupt theology of the Reich Church. Bonhoeffer was part of a split that became The Confessing Church, whose aim it was to continue preaching about Jesus when it was no longer safe to do so.  Bonhoeffer, who had many Jewish friends and a Jewish brother-in- law, also fought against Nazi Anti-Semitism long before the world was made to witness the atrocities of the holocaust, arguing that the Church must step in and protect Jewish citizens ("The Church and the Jewish Question", 1933). 
Those who truly follow Christ know that suffering will attend such a following (Matthew 16:24, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me."). Who can truly escape and resist the danger of evil-- whether that evil be explicit or in turning a blind eye? A lukewarm faith is one that follows the "wide path to destruction (Matthew 7:13)." Bonhoeffer was compelled by faith to choose the narrow path, one that went against the reasonable persuasion of those who told him to just go with the flow, that Hitler wouldn't last long, and Germany would be fine.

Bonheoffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy is an important book for the church to read, for it paints us a vivid picture of a twentieth century human choosing Christ and the suffering that such a choice (Bonhoeffer speaks of it not as a choice, but as a submission to God) will incur; but it also shows the ultimate triumph of God and a Church that is faithful to Him. Are we richer because of Diedrich Bonhoeffer's writings? Yes. Are we, too, richer because of the records of his sermons? Sure. But we are made vastly richer in his example to follow Christ all the way to the cross. 

O Love That Will Not Let Me Go- Hymn Stories

George Matheson was a Scottish theologian and preacher in the 19th century, at a moment when it seems his blessings were at their height, suffered a loss most of us cannot imagine. He graduated first in his class, was headed towards a fruitful and respected career in ministry, and was engaged to be married. A doctor's visit changed all of this: he learned that by the age of 20, he would completely lose his sight. His fiancée broke off the marriage because she could not commit to living with a blind man. Despite these two crushing events, Matheson was resolute on his future in ministry, and in 1866, at the age of 22, he became an assistant pastor. Over the next 16 years, with the steady help of his sister at home, he became a pastor and wrote several well-recieved volumes on Christian history and theology.

In 1882 his sister would leave him to become married and start her own life. On the evening before the marriage, Matheson was deeply depressed: losing his sister triggered the deep sorrow associated with the memory of his own failed engagement. 

It was in the depths of this melancholy and dejection that Matheson uttered a desperate prayer, and the lyrics O Love That Will Not Let Me Go came to him. He later wrote of this process, 

I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction. I have no natural gift of rhythm. All the other verses I have ever written are manufactured articles; this came like a dayspring from on high"  (http://www.hymntime.com/tch/htm/o/l/t/oltwnlmg.htm).

O Love is a testimony of the encounter with undying love, that we may find, perhaps most clearly, in times of trial. The third stanza, I feel, expresses this truth perfectly: 

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

I trace the rainbow through the rain. In Genesis we are told of God giving the rainbow as a symbol of his promise, that no matter how wicked the world may again become, it will not be destroyed. The rainbow represents a bow, as one used in hunting or war, turned away from the earth and humanity. It is turned towards heaven, and represents that the sacrifice for sin will not come from us, but that God himself will take that radical step for us, in the person of Jesus Christ. If we add the cross to this symbol, we are given a picture of a bow and arrow, aimed not at sinful humanity, but at the very seat of Mercy and Love. With such a promise, and such a friend as Jesus is to us, our view of reality must be saturated and completely shaped by hope-- that no matter what may befall us, we may know, "That morn shall tearless be."

O Love that wilt not let me go,

I rest my weary soul in thee;

I give thee back the life I owe,

That in thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.

O light that foll’west all my way,

I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;

My heart restores its borrowed ray,

That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day

May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,

I cannot close my heart to thee;

I trace the rainbow through the rain,

And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
 I dare not ask to fly from thee;

I lay in dust life’s glory dead,

And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall endless be.

Here is my favorite version:

I'm going to assume that this would be Pastor Rick's favorite version :P:

And, If you are so inclined, here is a more indie-rocker approach (complete with beard)

The Trinity and Relationships

Most of us are familiar with the concept of the Trinity. We sing about a Triune God, we read about a Triune God, and we pray to a Triune God. But what does it mean, exactly? The Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit. All equal. All part of the Godhead. Yet distinct in their relation to one another. Is the idea of the Trinity important for Christians? Historically, there have been divisions among believers on this very subject, and yet it must leave some people wondering what the big deal is. God is God, right?

The word “Trinity” never actually appears in the Bible* (there is plenty of evidence for the Trinity, but the word had not yet been coined), but was used first in the year 170 by Theophilus of Antioch, although he didn’t use the term for the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit. (He used it to describe God, his Word, and His wisdom). The first to use it for its current meaning was Tertullian who explained that the Trinity represents the triune God as one in “essence, but not one in Person” (http://www.religionfacts.com/christianity/beliefs/trinity.htm#3). The doctrine of the Trinity was established by the church at the council of Nicea as orthodoxy in the face of other beliefs about this curious relationship. I won’t go into detail here, but one of the theologies that was opposed was that of Arius, who said that Jesus was God’s “first creation” (ibid). The Council of Nicea in 325 set forth in making sure that this was rejected in favor of the doctrine that Christ was begotten, not created. You might, like me, be wondering why this really matters. Is this just one for the theologians to argue about, like angels on the head of a pin; or are we dealing with a more important question, one more fundamental about our faith and what we know about God?

Begotten­- Why is it important?

Recently I was listening to a sermon by Timothy Keller which provides an amazing amount of insight into the subject of the Trinity (Keller, “Imitating the Incarnation”, July 2, 1995). While listening I had one of those eureka moments that changes and deepens my faith and understanding of who God is.  The doctrine of the Triune God is the idea that there was never a time “before” when God was alone. This is important, because some of the criticism about the Gospel is the idea that God created out of some deep need for love. The idea is that God was incomplete, and so he created Jesus to fill a void. It also implies that He created us in order to meet a need. This is not the case.
The Trinity implies that each "Person" of the Triune God is begotten of God. While this is still mind boggling, it does tell us something very striking: that God has always been in relationship. God doesn’t need or demand love; rather He gives love, and conversely, receives it. Within God Himself is the very definition of what relationship is and everything it should be. And so it follows that God created the world in order to love it and be in relationship with us.

Getting married and having our first child together has let me see a tiny fraction of how the Trinity works. When we had our boy, it wasn’t a decision made in order to receive love. We wanted a baby in order that the overflowing love of our marriage could be given directly to our child. In other words, we didn’t have a baby because we needed a baby to fill our lives with love. Rather, we had love, and we had a baby so that love could go out to the baby. The baby does fill a purpose in our lives, but not in order to fill something in us that was empty before. It is the opposite—he is here because of the fullness of our marriage (in all of its earthly shortcomings and imperfections!).

The Trinity cannot be adequately described by marriage, but marriage (and all relationships) should be a reflection of the Trinity. What is God like, we ask? Well, for one, He is, all by Himself, a love relationship. It is an expression so often heard that it is cliché- “God is Love.” But it is true, and it is only true in the Trinity.

This explanation may not go very far to dispel the utter mysteriousness of the Trinity, for it goes without saying that the Lord, in the fullness of His character, transcends our understanding—but it does point to the type of relationship He wants with us. If He loves us as His children, then of course it would please Him for us to love Him, His ways, and His family. God wants us in relationship with Him. Furthermore, when we understand how the Trinity works in our own lives, we know that God wants us to have this kind of relationship with each other.

Keller points out in the same sermon that the Trinity represents this kind of relationship up against the kind of relationship that we may have a tendency to have.  He says, “It is extremely seductive and an absolute temptation to move out into other people’s lives more to meet your needs than it is to meet theirs.” That is, we may wrongfully approach friendships, work relationships, and even romance as a sort of consumer looking for what we can get out of it, how it can add to our lives, and how it makes us better.  As Keller says, this is seductive, but also be aware that we may be unconsciously doing this all the time! Instead of the pro-active love relationship of the Triune God, in which it is all about how we love others, the consumer relationship is all about how we are loved. In the former, relationships may last because we actively love; in the latter, relationships continually fail because we persistently feel we aren’t being loved enough, or that we are not having our needs met by other people. This type of relationship nearly always will lead to strife, pain, anger, bitterness, and loss. One needn’t look further than the soaring divorce rates in many parts of the world for an example of how a consumer approach to relationship leads to a falling-out, and naturally so.

How can we know if we are moving out to other people more for ourselves than for them? Keller says that if we are constantly getting our feelings hurt, feeling snubbed, feeling like we don’t get love in return, feeling like things never go our way or people don’t do what we want them to, then we are moving into relationships more for ourselves than for others!

Wow. Have you ever felt like this? I know I have.

Other people cannot give us what we already truly have in God—his love. Jesus loved us with this kind of love. He was snubbed, spat upon, and murdered, and yet He still loved.  And with His love as our ultimate, first source of love, we can love, albeit imperfectly for now, others; and we can allow ourselves to be loved imperfectly by them.

It is perfectly natural and good for us to want to receive love; yet if the central mission of our hearts to get love rather than to give it, then we will always be disappointed.

How, exactly, do we move into relationships that reflect the truth of the Trinity? Remember the greatest commandment that Jesus gives in Mark 29-31: “The most important is, ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.” That is how we approach others, by first going to God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, for he is One, he is the fountain of relational love. You will notice that Jesus, who is quoting scripture (Dueteronomy 6:4-5), does not say love God with a portion of yourself and then love others with what is left over. No. He says love God with everything- all of your heart, all of your mind, and all of your strength. How then, can we have anything left over if we give it all to God? Because of the relational God that can only be described by God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. The relationship inherent in God produces an outpouring of love and never merely consumes. Imagine if we move out into all of our relationships first from our relationship with God. Imagine if we give everything to the Triune God, and in turn we are filled with the power to love, truly love our neighbor. It would change everything.  

To hear Timothy Keller’s podcast and to access many, many other great resources from Redeemer, follow this link:

http://sermons2.redeemer.com/sermons/imitating-incarnation

* While scripture doesn't use the word "Trinity", it repeatedly talks about God the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Here is a concise collection of verses that support the Trinity:

http://www.gotquestions.org/Trinity-Bible.html

The Silver Lining?

I recently saw Silver Linings Playbook, and I have to say I loved the movie: the story was well-written with just the right mix of realism, sentimentality, and just the right dose of absurdity. The acting was fantastic: Jennifer Lawrence took best actress at the Oscars for her role as a young woman knocked off-kilter by the sudden death of her husband. Bradley Cooper was surprisingly great as a bi-polar trying to regain some balance in life, and Robert De Niro nailed it as a quirky, flawed father trying to get close to his struggling son freshly home from a mental hospital. The theme of mental disorder was handled well, showing some dark moments of despair, and then tempering those with some highly comical moments without being irreverent. The music was fantastic, and during the middle of the movie, there was a great, meandering montage set to Dylan's "The Girl from the North Country." That alone would have been enough for me, but all around the movie was smart, thoughtful, and subtle when it needed to be. Finally, the message was one of hope, overcoming, love, and family. Which made me walk away from the theater with that afterglow that Hollywood, when it wants to, can aptly provide. Which got me thinking... it was a great movie, and I loved the message, but is it really telling the truth?

Personally, I have to be pretty vigilant about letting my mind conform to truths that I read in great literature or great films. I have a tendency to have a too-high view of what I read and what I see, especially when it appeals to my aesthetic taste. I'll always remember what our brother Drew said one night after bible study, and I think that he attributed this to one of his professors: "Good writing (and good art) doesn't necessarily mean that it tells the truth." This is an important point to let sink in. If we go all the way back to Plato, he warns us in his work The Republic that art can only be an imitation, and sometimes it can be a deceptive imitation. As Christians, we are asked first and foremost to ascribe truth to its source, God, and worship that as truth. Jesus says in John 14:6 that He is "the way and the truth and the life" and this fact should be the lens in which we look at the created world, including the arts. We can enjoy all of the great works of art out there, but we must also be aware that the truth in art is not ultimate truth. We must always first look to Jesus for ultimate truth, and then we can discern the truth of the world from the truth of God's Kingdom.

In our modern world, we are constantly being flooded with signals and messages from "the arts". It's not hard to see how these messages and signals take stronger and stronger hold over our decisions and our points of view. In fact, they make up a lot of how we see the world through our own cultural lenses. I am essentially American because I grew up surrounded by American messages and symbols. Jina is Korean for the same reason. But if we don't take a deeper, Gospel-view of the world we live in, we may fall into our own cultural traps. We might even find created things, like fashion, beauty, possessions, titles, degrees, knowledge, concepts, even love and relationships, have taken a dangerously higher place than God in our lives.

Paul gives us great, Biblical advice on how to avoid such traps. In Romans 12:2, he says, "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect." You'll notice here that Paul isn't asking us to protect ourselves from the world. After all, we live in it. He doesn't ask us to live in caves.  We can enjoy beauty, art, relationships, our jobs, and fashion. We might even enjoy political concepts. But he says, "Do not be conformed,"... which means, do not let created things shape you. Don't let them change your heart, your mind, and who you are; but rather let it be the "will of God" that is supreme in everything you think, feel, and do. For the will of God is perfect. 

In Silver Linings, the main character, Pat (Bradley Cooper) struggles with what has been diagnosed as bi-polar disorder. He was institutionalized after nearly beating his unfaithful wife's lover to death. But he reveals that his troubles go further back, including delusions that sound like paranoid schizophrenia. Tiffany (Jennifer Lawrence) suffers from severe depression which makes her act out with self-destructive behavior. Both Tiffany and Pat are full of "strategies" and "affirmations" they have learned through their ordeals with depression, self-coping, institutionalization, and therapy. Tiffany seems to arrive at an uneasy peace with her behavior, telling Pat she likes the parts of herself that act out (including one retold episode of workplace promiscuity). But under her defensive, resilient armor there is a palpable vulnerability that hasn't fully healed.
Pat takes an opposite approach: he is in "fix himself" mode. In the opening minutes of the film, he tells his mom to stop by the library so that he can read an entire English syllabus. Pat's mother gives him a questioning look, but Pat proclaims "Mom, it's a good thing. I'm remaking myself!" This basically sums up his approach to getting better, that through his own will he can make himself better and somehow repair his broken relationship with his wife. Pat's philosophy is to use the negativity around him and find the "silver-lining." In other words, through positive thinking he can transform himself into a better human being. As the audience, we root for him and wish him success, but we are all too aware of the many environmental and psychological factors that stand in his way. As he thinks he is getting better, we see episodes that show that even with his best defenses, Pat cannot protect himself from... himself.  He battles with his destructive tendencies and it becomes clear that for Pat, positive thinking is not enough.
The happy ending that develops (of course it's happy, it's a romantic comedy!) is based more on luck, supportive friends and family, and the nearly spontaneous love of a beautiful woman. Pat's hard work helps, but it is these outside elements that allow him to maintain his equilibrium. It is a great story, but it is not a happy ending that most bi-polar, paranoid schizophrenics will be lucky enough to find.

Positive thinking alone tells us that our perspective is everything in any situation. If we look for a silver lining in a bad situation, then the bad situation won't seem so bad. Look on the bright side, it says. But the Gospel goes one step further. It tells us that we have a reason, a solid foundation, a deep truth, for why we should look on the bright side. That reason is God's promise. If we see every situation through God's promise-- that He sent His son to live and die among us so that we might have direct access to His Kingdom, and that He has prepared a place for us. You see, all of the iniquity, shame, violence, hatred, depression, rape, murder, war, addictions-- all the things we see this world perpetually stuck in, and possibly even getting worse, there really is no amount of positive thinking that can overcome such a reality. We would have to ignore most horrible things and really just focus on the positives in the world. In this light, positive thinking is escapism, and not realistic. But in the promise of the Gospel, where God is renewing everything, our positive thinking has a firm, realistic foundation. We can think positively because it says so in scripture, in Romans 8:28:
And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.
We know that God is making whatever circumstances in our lives work towards something unfathomably good, something better than we could even dream of. Even our darkest hours will be succeeded by the beautiful light of the truth, of the glory of the Cross. As the lyric goes, "Cling to the crucified", for Jesus promises that even death has no eternal sting, that though we may "weep in the night, joy comes in the morning (Psalms 30:5). If we know this truth, not just intellectually but in the deepest threads of our being, then we can face whatever the world and this difficult life can throw at us. Believe it!
I know that mental illness is a serious issue, and that finding a solution is not as easy as simply shouting out a few lines of scripture. But I do believe that with the promise of God in our hearts, we are given the most sophisticated and effectual approach towards facing our problems. Coping mechanisms and even medicine may have their place, but that firm foundation of Jesus is the rock that I want to stand on when tragedy, misery, and brokenness strikes. For the one who loves God, the search of the silver lining will always reveal Him, and his mercy and love for us.