The Tension of Vision

Two quite different poems, yet both reminding me of the tension within our vision, of that deep conflict of the 'now and not yet.' The yearning for a heavenly perspective. The straining of one 'yet earth-bound mortal.'

I stood a mendicant of God before His royal throne
And begged Him for one priceless gift, which I could call my own.
I took the gift from out His hand, but as I would depart
I cried, "But Lord, this is a thorn, and it has pierced my heart.
This is a strange, a hurtful gift, which Thou has given me."
He said, "My child, I give good gifts and gave My best to thee."
I took it home and though at first the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last to love it more and more.
I learned He never gives a thorn without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside the veil which hides His face.
(Martha Snell Nicholson)


Do I watch the gulls blow,
the wind flinging go over and
under the remnants of air?
Do I callously know
the fierce thrill of Your singing
and yet choke on the chill and stare
at the smudges of concrete and smoke?
O soaring O flailing and flipping
the breeze, O silver in swinging
the currents and space - you poke
at my knees, at my sinews of stone,
at my turf-sunk jaw, my self-pitying
groan. O! bursting grey visions
O! torrents of dust, you scavengers
thirsting and twirling, pursue
the alluring frictions of joy.
Do I watch the gulls toss,
stretch back the glum clouds and
tease at the snow-starched sponges
of white? Do I sigh to my loss
and sneeze at the tickling, prickling,
piercing bright blow: O my sight cannot go,
cannot up that way wind,
when I seek what I seek,
what I seek I still find.
(Yours Truly)

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And the point is...?

A month ago I sat in this orange and green, pheasant-decorated armchair, frantically typing my little Medieval heart onto the page of yet another paper. "Ugh," I repeatedly thought to myself. "I wish I could be doing something else right now - like drawing or writing a story, or cooking."

Yesterday I had a pretty well-rounded day. I spent some time preparing for the course I'm the tutor marker for this summer. I answered a few e-mails. I prepared for the DVBS teacher's meeting. I cleaned the dishes and re-lemoned the linoleum beneath our door to keep the ants out. I even spent time reading the Word and praying. But when that was finished, and I had no other responsibilities, I wandered aimlessly around the house. Should I draw? I looked down at the scene I had started a number of months ago, now about two thirds finished. "But what's the point?" I wondered. "So I draw this, and in fifty years it gets thrown out in the trash - what's the point?" These thoughts kept coming back to me as I considered other things with which I might occupy myself.

Later in the evening, when my husband dropped me off at the skytrain, I was expressing to him my frustration with this strange depression - this purposeless in living. "At least with your paintings," I said to him, "You get paid for them." He shook his head and said, "That doesn't give them any more meaning than yours. They'll still end up getting thrown out in a few years. I make them for someone else - whom I don't know - to hang on their wall. To be consumed - but neither producer nor consumer is doing anything terribly significant." Except of course for trying to make meaning in their life through controlling the material things around them. Josh continued, "I paint them, so that I can make money to buy food, so that I can stay alive to paint more paintings. The meaning has to come from somewhere else - and it does. You have to entrust yourself to God, and entrust to Him to your time and what you are doing with it, to build a foundation for the eternal."

The point is, nothing here will last. Ultimately. But everything here - everything around us, what we do with ourselves, what we think, buy, build etc - can become a part of the kingdom-building if we are surrendering it to Him and working it in His power. It can lay the foundation for the work that we will get to do in heaven, that work which will be so saturated with God's glory that its meaning will be radiant to everyone who comes in contact with it. But it starts here.

My husband said to me, "Go, write a story that is going to make a thirteen year old girl get excited about being a Christian."

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Love through Oppression (or, the Proliferation of Paradox part II)

In this post I want to briefly address the paradox we find in the Christian life, that of 'slave' and 'free.' But rather than going to the more obvious passages that deal with these (such as Romans 6), I'd like to approach this topic through the letter to Philemon. This is in part because I was reading Philemon in my devotional time and God really blessed me through it and I wanted to share those thoughts, but also because as I considered Philemon, I was swept away by the strangeness of God's ways in comparison to our ways. And that is a sure indication that paradox is present.

Philemon is a short letter Paul wrote from prison to a man named Philemon. The letter commends Onesimus to Philemon: Onesimus who used to be Philemon's slave, who ran away from his service and stole from him, and who God saved through Paul's ministry and has been serving Paul in prison. The language in this letter is remarkable. The heart of it is astounding. Within the Roman context, Onesimus' actions were punishable by death and this shows the actions of Paul and the anticipated actions of Philemon to be astounding. Paul is sending Onesimus back to his employer, knowing that in a normal human context, he would likely be killed. And Philemon is accepting back to himself a man who culture dictates should be killed.

Paul commands Philemon to received Onesimus back, "no longer as a slave, but much more than a slave, a beloved brother" (1:16) and he concludes by saying:

• "Having confidence in your obedience, I write to you, since I know that you will do even more than what I say." (1:21)

This is incredible. In this we see the heart of God. From broken lives, fractured relationships and even oppressive social systems, God makes good to come. Let no one ever say He is a god of oppression, that He is evil. He restores us, transforms us into new - holy! - people. He delights in reconciliation and healing.
And it is clear that Paul views this all as God's work, as he says:

• "For perhaps he was for this reason separated from you for a while, that you would have him back forever..." (1:15).

For this reason indicates that there is purpose behind all of this - that it is not mere happenstance. And we know from the context that it is God who is behind it.
And this is where I suggest that "oppression" comes in. In his cultural context, Philemon would be expected to at least hold a grudge, remain suspicious, treat Onesimus poorly, even if he didn't have him killed. And let's go a step further - from a much more 21st century perspective, Onesimus would have every right to be resentful, not wanting to return to his position as slave/servant and perhaps feeling betrayed by Paul. But this is not what we see here. Instead we see a network of persons, related to each other through human institutions but more significantly, through Christ. And Christ makes all the difference. It is as a prisoner of Christ that Paul writers to Philemon, and Paul himself hints at the fact that Philemon is likewise under Christ's command as well as indebted to Paul who was the instrument of his salvation (8, 19). And Paul refers to Onesimus as "my child..begotten in my imprisonment" (11) and "my very heart" (13). These men are all utterly enslaved to Jesus Christ. But the result speaks for itself: Christ's power works heavily in and through them because they have been bound to Him. Other chains are broken when Christ's chain is placed on them. The chains of revenge, retribution, hate, guilt, and fear are absolutely shattered when allegiance is given over to Christ. The results are instead life and freedom: "refresh my heart" Paul says!
I'm of course being facetious in my title, "Love by Oppression." Poor Philemon, being oppressed by the power of Christ working in Him so that he must receive back Onesimus - must forgive him, must love him, must hold him as dear as a brother! Truly Christianity is an oppressive force - but oh what freedom and glory comes about!

What I hope the title does is draw attention to the prevailing conception of Christianity as an oppressive institution, and then undermine this conception. That is, the title embodies the layers of revelation one will experience if they take a closer look at Christianity. The surface-viewer sees a regime of oppression, but one who has experienced God's salvation realizes that he or she has literally been set free and experiences all kinds of freedom: from guilt, from the power of sin to dictate all areas of our lives and being (such as self-protection, fear of man, lust for money and comfort, desire for fulfillment through fashion...whatever!), from death, and from God's holy wrath. And as we've seen in the case of Paul's letter to Philemon, God's heart is so set for freeing us that He enables us to be free in ways we find totally mind-boggling from a strictly fallen-human perspective. But, as we grow in our experience of God's salvation, we also find that He is also an immensely oppressive force - He presses in upon us, He does not leave us, His Holy Spirit pushes and prods and bears us down. This is not "oppression" as its current meaning dictates - but more as its etymological roots reveal: God presses upon us.

I love that imagery. For one thing, it reminds us of the physicality of our nature as human beings. We have bodies and God is not ambivalent to this fact. But what this "pressing" really is, is God's refusal to leave us. He does not save us by suggesting we have some sort of esoteric sense of salvation. He does not leave us. He demands we bring our whole being into surrender before Him - our bodies, our minds, our emotions, our wills. And He is passionate to sanctify - to save - us now. He works life in us as He wears away the sin nature in us. This is why the book of Philemon is so powerful for me: God's life-transforming Spirit works in our very real, fleshly world and experience to create beauty and holiness in our lives and relationships.

It is a paradox. God presses in on us. He oppresses our sin-nature and fallen-will, and presses us down: and by doing so, He frees us from the oppression of sin and gives us life and joy and freedom. He creates the unthinkable in us: holiness.


One last note. A P.S. if you will. Paul addresses the letter "To Philemon our beloved brother and fellow sister, and to Apphia our sister, and to Archippus our fellow soldier, and to the church in your house: grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." (1:1b-3). Speaking of oppression, I note the reference "to Apphia our sister," who is in this case clearly a woman (the church is referred to later, and thus "Apphia" appears to refer to an actual woman, rather than metaphorically for the church). So may we just close our mouths, when we the ignorant feel the temptation to repeat the mantra: "Christianity is oppressive to women - especially Pauline theology." Here Paul specifically includes her in his address. As Onesimus is coming back to be reintroduced to the Christians in Philemon's house, Paul makes sure to include the many people who will be involved in this relationship: Philemon, Archippus, the church who meets - and Apphia.

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Time for God

"O good, now I have time to devote to God."

I hate those words. Hate them. They're mine. Every time the end of the semester rolls around they spill out of my mouth.

I really believe I'm missing out. This last paper was particularly brutal for me - the mental and emotional blocks I've built up around the writing process flamed in full force. But it has made me feel a little more keenly the cold, hard edge of my life: the frailty of my life and my own potential to consume myself. There's a harsh light that shines on me, the weight of my own self-destruction. Am I being dramatic? Not really.

A few songs have been running through my head these past few days: Captivate Us by Watermark, What do I know about Holy by Addison Road, Before the Cross by Sovereign Grace ministries. And the words in these songs thrust before me the disparity of how I'm living (truly) and the call that is on my life, how God calls me to live.

I am starting to honestly think that if I don't change my day to day approach to life, that eventually I will stand before that awesome throne - before all the glory of my God, the Living One, whose eyes are like flaming fire, whose mouth is a double-edged sword and whose voice is the sound of many rushing waters - and we will both know just how much I've wasted "it." I will have missed out on immense joy and passion and purpose (and suffering and sorrow) in this life, and I will be utterly ashamed and disappointed.

When I look at myself honestly, I see that I am neither consumed by a passion for God's glory nor empowered by the life of Christ in me; I am consumed by myself and weakened by my repeated attempts to do this life-thing myself. Even when I cry over those I love, when I pray for His grace in the lives of those around me, so much of it is motivated by fear. I feel bad for people and I fear what will happen to them. And God, God teeters dangerously near a crevice called "to blame," and sometimes I push the image I've constructed of Him down there.

But what does it feel like and look like to want to see His grace in the world so that His glory would be magnified? That people would know that all-sufficient, all-satisfying grace of the infinitely glorious One and in doing so, declare His worthiness above all else? For Jesus' sake? For Himself?

I know what I have to do. I'm just afraid to do it.

How can I just chose to be totally honest with people about who He is? How can I just chose to trust Him regardless, and actively give up the passions I'm giving myself to - school, money, friends, self-image, respect, comfort, happiness? How can I?

Oh, but I need, need, need to. My time is shriveling up without Him. I'm dying without Him. I need to die with Him.

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