Soli Deo gloria

Thursday, December 25, 2014

A Christmas Day Contemplation

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
    Their old, familiar carols play,
        And wild and sweet
        The words repeat
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    And thought how, as the day had come,
    The belfries of all Christendom
        Had rolled along
        The unbroken song
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    Till ringing, singing on its way,
    The world revolved from night to day,
        A voice, a chime,
        A chant sublime
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

At first, this poem by the Fireside Poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, appears to be your average joyful Christmas song. Christmas time is oft marked with such joy, as it well should be. Yet, it is also a time of great sadness and despair for some. Sometimes Christmas serves as a reminder of who is not sitting next to you at the table. Fraught with empty chairs and broken dreams, Christmas can show us how affliction and pain never take winter vacations. The author of this Christmas carol heretofore mentioned knew that fact all too well.

   And in despair I bowed my head;
 There is no peace on earth, I said;
        For hate is strong,
        And mocks the song
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

 At times, Christmas and all its joys in commemorating our Saviors birth clashes with the harsh depravity and pain of this broken world. Often, it's hard to hear "peace on earth" above all the chaos on earth. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was well acquainted with such chaos and despair. When he penned the words to this carol, he was suffering the grief of two painful losses. First, that of his wife to a tragic fire, and then that of his son to the War Between the States.

    "Then from each black, accursed mouth
    The cannon thundered in the South,
        And with the sound
        The carols drowned
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

    It was as if an earthquake rent
    The hearth-stones of a continent,
        And made forlorn
        The households born
    Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Yes, this poet, along with many other American families of 1863, knew excessively well the strong hatred, the suffocating despair, and the loud mockery of "peace on earth" that the war wrought. The fact is, its a fallen world, full of fallen people. Since the fall of man, man has fallen ever since. The depravity and wickedness of men's heart hardly makes one want to break out in full chorus of All things Bright and Beautiful. Yet, Longfellow's last verse of the carol reminds us thus:

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
    God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;
        The Wrong shall fail,
        The Right prevail,
    With peace on earth, good-will to men."

We have a glorious hope that did not stop in a manger, nor on a cross. Christ came to earth on a rescue mission armed with a redemptive purpose. When commemorating Christ's birth during this season, we can't be so focused solely on the manger that we forget the empty tomb and the victory Christ has won. Christmas is not dependent on your Christmas feeling (or lack thereof).  Christ is victorious over death, over Satan, over sin, and over our once stone-cold hearts. Surely, no chaos or despair can drown out that victory shout! The battle is already won, we have peace on earth because we have peace in Him. His word is full of promises of this peace. That does not mean that the chaos will up and away but that we can have security and peace which transcends all understanding in the midst of it (See Philippians 4:6-7). Whether it's the commercialism and the diminishing of Christmas' value by society, or a grievous affliction in your life this Christmas season that causes you to despair, fear not. Always remember the hope, the wonder, and the victory found in Emmanuel: God with us.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

A Meditation on Affliction


"It was good for me to be afflicted so that I could learn Your statutes"

-Psalm 119:71

How I respond to trials is an indicator of my knowledge of God's word. If trials are what it takes to bring my wayward heart to learn His precepts, they are indeed a blessing and a good thing. The sweetness will always outweigh the bitterness when looking back over the beauty gathered from the ashes and finding feet that can do nothing save dance for sake of their freedom from mourning. God's law is my only anchor, comfort, and guidance. It is when in the agony of difficulties so great, that ONLY a sovereign, mighty God could remedy them that faith increases. Surely, I only endure that which God ordained for His glory and my good. For if those wretched hardships result in praise, glory, and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ, shouldn't I open wide my arms and joyfully shout "let them come!" If refining fires, raging storms, and the darkest of nights bring me even a millimeter closer to my God, why should I fear or flee them? If disgrace brings glory, I must embrace it. For if I suffer for so great a God, who spared not a drop of His wrath from His own Son for my sake, should that suffering not be an obeisance of deepest regard? Never are His promises more near than when they are all I have to cleave to. When my only shelter is in Yah, my Rock and Fortress, will I not only be sheltered, but also drawn in? When trials come, His living water is all the more sweet to my parched lips and torrid heart. I depend on His word all the more desperately when it is the only light keeping darkness at bay. Indeed, I have every reason to "consider it a great joy." After all, is not joy a fruit of the Spirit that resides within me? Joy is not simply an emotion, just as faith is not merely a feeling of being saved one day and lost the next. Faith is not subjective to how I fair that particular day nor is joy subjective to the amount of gladness I find on the mountain top with hardly a valley in sight, only to plummet the next minute into the deepest of valleys. Faith is objective as it is firmly fixed on its object (or rather its author and perfecter). Therefore, faith never loses its objectivity*. Joy is literally "leaning toward" (Strong's 5479) the object of my faith. Proper recognition of His grace, that is what joy consists of. Peace in the nearness of God is true in both the raging and rests of a storm. Never has God broken His word or changed His mind. There is no "variation or shadow cast by turning" (James 1:17). His faithfulness, how it is proved o'er and o'er!  Never has He failed to act nor has He forgotten to carry out a promise to its utmost fulfillment. Aye, there's the rub. He does not forget, but I do. I, as Israel, fail to remember. Forgetfulness is a dangerous foe, for Psalm 28:5 reveals that it is evil doers who do "not consider what the Lord has done." Yet, how often do I contemplate the glorious works of His hands? Surely, fear and regard for His holiness must instill in me a desire to do so, lest I forget this precious knowledge. Though I forget, I forsake, and I fear, He is yet faithful. My weakness overtakes me to reveal that it is His strength alone that makes me stand firm, that it is His arms that carry me when I have not the strength to walk,and it is He who brings to mind those battle tactics He so skillfully trained my fingers in. I may weep through the night, but when morning light dawns on those same tears, it shines on tears of joy and gratitude. The heart is tested and stretched to reveal its inclination (or lack thereof) toward His commands. For sooth, it is the heat of the battle that reveals a warrior's true loyalties. When it all comes crashing down, there are only two places to run: into the arms of God or away from them. Yet if my feet flee, slip, and fall hard, I turn to see a loving Father running to me with arms outstretched. He bestows on me the strength to do a full 180 turn from sin and meet His embrace. Storms show the strength and depth of my roots. If I am abiding in the Vine, I will stand strong and one day shinning silver-purged of all dross. 
Without the Vine, the branch is not only fruitless...it is dead
Yes, it is good to be afflicted. Though it may not be enjoyable, it is still a great joy!


* See 2 Peter 1:3-10 if an objectivity check is needed.