Tuesday 19 June 2012

"Heaven-Haven"



“I have desired to go
Where springs not fail,
To fields where flies no sharp and sided hail
And a few lilies blow.
And I have asked to be
Where no storms come,
Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,
And out of the swing of the sea.”

Saturday 16 June 2012

The Fullness of Absence

What is life, but to be near you?  

If God is perfectly happy, then he must act in ways which tend to his, and our own, happiness. This brings me to the subject of the Ascension. During Advent, or any other time of the year when the church reflects on the incarnation of Christ, we dwell on the wonder of his humanity. Jesus had ears, and he ate fish, and he took walks with his friends, and he cried, and he laughed. And he touched the sick and blessed them. After such pondering, we sing a hymn and go home. But this is just what frustrates me. If the wonder of God-With-Us moves us to worship, how are we to feel about God-With-Us going back to God, leaving us here all alone?

I'll tell you how it makes me feel. It makes me feel lonely, and sad. Angry, too. Sometimes, it seems that it would be best if Jesus could come over for tea, or sit next to me in church, or be one of my co-workers, or walk with me to the library. He can't though, because he's gone. His physical presence, the thing we celebrate so often--the catalyst of our redemption--is absent. That is an ache.

And it aches. I want him to come back, because I'm lonely without him.

So, I struggle with God's physical absence. God-With-Us isn't (physically) with us anymore. How can there be good in this? So much of my struggle is walking in the reality of the life of God. It's easy to forget that God is who he is (Ever-Present, Faithful, Loving, True, Happy, Real) when he doesn't drop by for dinner.

There are a few things I've been reading lately that have helped immensely with this angst:
Christ said that it would be BETTER for us if he went away, because the Holy Spirit is just that good. He said that though he, our Tender Pioneer, was leaving us, he was sending The Holy Spirit to be our Friend in his place.

What's more, Christ's primary allegiance is to the Father. Jesus went back to God, his Father, and he sat down beside God in the place of honor. He deserved to go back to God: think of all he endured. It was owed to him.  I forget to ask myself about what Jesus is doing at the right hand of the Father. I'm so concerned about what he isn't doing here, that I forget Christ might have any work to do in heaven. I also forget that it might interest the second person of the Trinity to pick up all his former glory and spend time with his Dad. What would God be doing if we, if all of creation, were out of the picture? God is eternal, but what does he spend most of his time doing? Is that a stupid question? I think the answer is that God needs to spend time with himself. His own Triune priorities come first. Since he is the most Real, Important, and Eternal being, his main goal is to glorify himself, without creation he would still have plenty to do, basking in the light of his own glory. And this is as it should be. But still, creation does exist: up in heaven he also intercedes for us, prepares a place for us, and loves us. 

And so Jesus left.
But the disciples' response was that of worship, they didn't sit around and cry. They rejoiced and they waited. Hear this:
"You're the first to hear and see it. You're the witnesses. What comes next is very important: I am sending what my Father promised to you, so stay here in the city until he arrives, until you're equipped with power from on high." He then led them out of the city over to Bethany. Raising his hands he blessed them, and while blessing them, took his leave, being carried up to heaven.And they were on their knees, worshiping him. They returned to Jerusalem bursting with joy.They spent all their time in the Temple praising God. Yes.
Pentecost (which was a really big deal) brought with it a sense of universal presence: God reaching out to the ends of the earth, drawing all peoples toward himself. Do you hear that? Pentecost--the presence of the Holy Spirit and the absence of Christ--made God available to everyone.  . .not just in Nazareth, not just two thousand years ago. . .but even in our own time. . .even to the ends of the earth. The Friend brought, and continues to bring, presence, truth and fullness.
  There are some practical realities to be considered here as well. One, Jesus didn't speak English. Would we be able to communicate if he were still here? Two, Jesus lived in Israel, but I live in America. Plane tickets are expensive. Three, if Jesus were still on earth, why do I think he'd have time to hang out with me when every other Jesus-follower & Jesus-hater would be clamoring for his attention? I mean, really. Who says I'd be one of the disciples in Jesus' inner circle? Plus, he'd be so old. He couldn't die, since death has no authority over him, but what would it be like for Jesus to walk around, 2,000 years old? Clearly this speculation is ludicrous. I'm glad of it. It's good that he went away. It's best.   So, it aches. But it is better so. Ascension is followed by Pentecost. And Pentecost is a big deal. "You Galileans! - why do you just stand here looking up at an empty sky?"
  "You've heard me tell you, 'I'm going away, and I'm coming back.' If you loved me, you would be glad that I'm on my way to the Father because the Father is the goal and purpose of my life."   Not as I will, but as You will. 

Thursday 7 June 2012

On Holy Optimism

Anne: Can't you even imagine you're in the depths of despair?
Marilla: No, I cannot. To despair is to turn your back on God. 
I used to laugh at this part of the movie when I was a child, but now Marilla's words ring true. I don't think Christians are supposed to be the glass-half-full types, exactly. But, I do think that a Christian's outlook on life should be pretty rosy, because Jesus is the lens, and the light, by which we see.

That entire paragraph was full of cliches and quotations from other people. I'll offer you my own thoughts now. I'm a pessimist. I'm also a Christian. Sometimes, I don't feel that these aspects of my nature are at odds with one another. But, they are. Oh, how they are! People who are bubbly, consistently positive, or over-given to smiling tend to get on my nerves--but mainly because I feel that there is something false in, or absent from, a thoroughly optimistic person. Surely a happy person is happy either because they have never suffered or because they are faking it, that's my usual explanation. This is silly though, because the truest, most real Thing is God. And God is, in his essence, perfect happiness. Do you know how profound that is? God is happy.

God is happiness in the same way that God is love. It is one of his perfections, and God is the sum of all perfections: perfect power, perfect being, perfect goodness, perfect contentment. The realization that the foundation of reality is happiness hits me like a ton of bricks. It really does. God doesn't promise a happy life in the way that I tend to define happiness. My picture of happiness tends to be anti-Boethian. Boethius (and God, too I think) says that true happiness does not come from that which can be taken away. Think about that: if you can lose it, it cannot make you happy. You can lose things, relationships with people, your own health, a home. Happiness is not in these things then. Happiness is inherent in that which is secure, perfect, and eternal. God does not promise the happiness that I think will come with adequate personal space, a fulfilling career, or meaningful and healthy relationships. God does promise, however, perfection and eternal bliss. God promises a happiness that I cannot even conceive of, and the best part is that this happiness flows from his own laughing, loving nature.

I need to dwell on this idea a little more, because it's hard for me to think of God this way. And that's just my problem: unbelief. I'm unhappy, I'm given to pessimism and despair so often, because I'm given to unbelief. It's hard for me to believe what God says about himself when it relates to my own personal well-being. It's easy for me to believe, say, that God exists; it's easy for me to believe that he is all-knowing and all-powerful. It's easy for me believe that Jesus died for the sins of the masses, for the nations, for the world, for my friends. It's hard to believe that Jesus' salvation extends to me, also. It's hard for me to believe that he is genuinely interested in my life, in my particular life. It's hard for me to believe that God is happy, and that he wants me to be happy, too.

My patterns of sinfulness begin and end in unbelief. Anxiety, worry, fear, doubt--these are all differing manifestations of the same basic lie: that life is essentially a burden and that God is essentially grim. Therefore, because I spend so much time believing a lie, I spend a great deal of time doubting the truth. Hence, despair. And in my despair, I turn toward deception, giving my back to God. Marilla is a wise woman.

It's important for me to know that God is happy. God is happy, and he has invited me to share in his own divine happiness: the glorious perfect beatitude of the Trinity.

More on this from desiringgod.org:
So often we think of God as non-enthusiastic or even gloomy. The exact opposite is true: He loves to be God, He takes great pleasure in all that He does, and He is enthusiastic about serving His people and working for their welfare. For example, God says in Jeremiah 32:41: "I will rejoice in doing them good." Jesus said in John 15:11, "These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you." And Paul writes in 1 Timothy 1:11 of "the glorious gospel of the blessed God." Blessed means happy. So Paul is saying: "the glorious gospel of the happy God."
God is infinitely happy because he is infinitely glorious. And, the good news is that he invites us to enter into his happiness. Here is what Piper writes in The Pleasures of God (p. 26): "It is good news that God is gloriously happy. No one would want to spend eternity with an unhappy God. If God is unhappy then the goal of the gospel is not a happy goal, and that means it would be no gospel at all. But, in fact, Jesus invites us to spend eternity with a happy God when he says, ‘Enter into the joy of your master' (Matthew 25:23). Jesus lived and died that his joy-God's joy-might be in us and our joy might be full (John 15:11; 17:13). Therefore the gospel is ‘the gospel of the glory of the happy God.'"


So. The expectation for happiness is grounded in reality itself. 


Cheer up. Believe. God is happy.

And now, something to lift your spirits, courtesy of my friend, Sara:
Ignore the early 90's aesthetic and Christian materialism, pay attention to the chorus

Monday 4 June 2012

Stupid Mod Cloth


All the dresses I like best on Mod Cloth are either $300 or sold out.
$294.99 Out of Stock


$124.99 Out of Stock
$129.99
$294.99


Out of Stock


$244.99


$287.99


OK, this one is from J. Crew. $265.00

$157.99



Now. Go to the Mod Cloth website, and note what happens when you search for dresses by "lowest price":

That's right, and they're in stock, too.