Moriar, ne moriar

I don’t want to be writing this post. I’m tired, my feet hurt, it’s raining and cold, my internet connection isn’t working, there is not sufficient chocolate available in the house (somebody must have eaten it), and I just don’t feel like it [edit from 4-15-08: and now my bike has a tire that is as a flat pancake and refuses to be otherwise]. But (if you don’t want to read the rest) that’s kind of the point.

I wanted to write this earlier in the day, when I wanted to write it. When I could feel it in every bone of my body and I was almost crying with the reality of it—doubly-so because I couldn’t write it down at the moment. Now I don’t want to. I tried to avoid telling God that, because I don’t feel like talking to him, but I reasoned to myself that it would be dishonest, writing something like this when I don’t feel it, or it might be trying to impress everyone with my good Christianity, and that wouldn’t be right, would it?

So in the course of avoiding writing this, and looking for the 20th time for the piece of paper that might have the information that might help me understand what’s wrong with my internet connection, I came across a card in a handwriting that is like mine, only much younger. It belongs to someone who was me once, years ago, and says this:

Psalm 93

The LORD reigns, he is robed in majesty;
The LORD is robed in majesty, and is armed with strength.
The world is firmly established; it cannot be moved.
Your throne was established long ago;
You are from all eternity.
The seas have lifted up, O LORD, the seas have lifted up their voice;
The seas have lifted up their pounding waves.
Mightier than the thunder of the great waters,
Mightier than the breakers of the sea—
The LORD on high is mighty.
Your statutes stand firm; holiness adorns your house for endless days,
O LORD.

oh.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled post. And hopefully it actually means a little bit of something now.

The utmost reality for the believer is the existence of God. That’s it. That’s what it all boils down to— God is…good, loving, many things. But most of all, God is.

We must needs worship the highest when we see it (what is that from, anyway?). And when we recognize God’s is-ness, as God, it is also recognition of his highest-ness. And requires our worship. Think of His name by which He calls Himself. Before Abraham was…

This state of worship is the place where we are most fulfilled, because it is where we are most fully fulfilling what we were made to do. Even thinking of what He has done for us—redeeming us from our own sins—is supposed to point to something higher; the why of redemption: so that we might declare His glory, His greatness, His godness. (Yes, I feel like coining words today. I can, too, because you can tell what I mean, right? Which means we were communicating. Which means that it served its purpose as a word. But I digress.) If you doubt this, await upcoming post in which I will confound the point further, or read John Piper or C.S. Lewis—or maybe, Paul! And the Psalms! But you don’t doubt, do you, that God is the why and wherefore of history? The reason by which we exist, and the reason for which we exist? (Hm, this is sounding familiar…)

Jesus said, “Abide in me.” What is that but basking in the presence of God, to gaze on the beauty of the Lord, in whose presence is fullness of joy? And we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Continuing, He said, “I have told you these things that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full.” What does it mean? 1. He delights in us; 2. He plants his joy in our hearts; or, 3. our joy is in him?

“ ‘All three at once!’ said Bilbo.” When we gaze on God’s goodness, acknowledging His godness, we are filled with a joy inexpressible and full of glory, a peace that passes understanding, a hope that does not disappoint. Of course, as soon as we try to lay our fingers on these things, they disappear—they are the things, as C.S. Lewis put it, that you cannot find by looking for them. Because they are the result of God’s joy in Himself being reflected in our hearts (and if this sounds selfish of God to you, I refer you to earlier reading suggestions). They are the little weak echo that our hearts respond with when they hear the glory of God being played as the theme of history. They are a preview of heaven.

I had one, yesterday. We had a baptism at church, and when the baptized emerged from the water, we all let forth song, Son salvato per grazia/ Ed a Lui do la Gloria/ Son salvato per grazia/ Da Cristo Gesu… I am saved by grace/ and I give the glory to Him/ I am saved by grace/ through Christ Jesus…it was a moment when one said to oneself, yes. It will be beautiful beyond imagining.

But, to borrow from Lewis again, we must be careful not to confuse our feelings about the thing with the thing itself. Perhaps this is why they disappear when we look for them. And this is why (Hannah) we must not base our behaviors on the feelings—they aren’t The One Thing Needful, The Pearl of Great Price.

And here is where the surprise comes in: not only do we get to experience this joy, but this is when it can be seen by others, too, as we all with unveiled faces behold the glory of the Lord and are changed ourselves from glory unto glory, becoming the aroma of Christ as we shine like stars in the universe.

So we can confidently say,

Though He slay me, yet shall I hope in Him.

We know that our old self was crucified with Him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with Him…present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments of righteousness. For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace.

Let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire.

Lord, consume my self in you, that you may be all in all.