Not celebrating a 'living legacy'

Dear Mr Cameron, 

"This is the time when, as Christians, we remember the life, sacrifice and living legacy of Christ."

No, it is not. We celebrate as our only hope in life and death, the perfect life, atoning sacrifice, bodily resurrection and current intercession of Jesus Christ before the throne of our Father God. 

Please do not patronise us with talk of shared values. Pretending to share values does not even restore society, or reconcile families, never mind restore us to a reconciled relationship with the God of the universe. Jesus Christ did not die and rise again to share a vague feeling of peace to inspire us. While we are powerless to do peace, he came to be our peace, to make peace, and to preach that peace with the Father [Eph 2]. There is no eternal hope in a 'living legacy'. There is sure and certain hope for a broken, rebellious and dead world, in a Man who defeated death and rose as the first-fruits of a new creation, and will return to judge the living and the dead.  

The chronologically-challenged 'Cranmer' draws out an interesting comparison with Barack Obama's Easter speech here. Glen Scrivener treats us to something better:

A strange way

A striking documentary on BBC3, available until 11th April: My brother, the Islamist. 

Young men searching for life, for meaning, a hope and a future. Knowing that this world, what we can construct by ourselves, doesn't offer much. Knowing so much is wrong. 

There was a striking choice of soundtrack at one point: one of my favourite Martyn Joseph songs, 'Strange Way'. It's so sad that these lost, disgruntled young men didn't come across the strange way of the song - of the cross of Jesus Christ. 

Strange way to start a revolution
Strange way to get a better tan
Strange way to hold a power breakfast
Strange way show your business plan

Strange way to see if wood would splinter
Strange way to do performance art
Strange way to say “I'll see you later”
Strange way to leave behind your heart

Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes
Strange way

Strange way to hang around for hours
Strange way to imitate a kite
Strange way to get a view of Auschwitz
Strange way to represent the light

Strange way to watch for stormy weather
Strange way to disprove gravity
Strange way to go about fund-raising
Strange way to sing I'm liberty

Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes
Strange way

Strange way to test for haemophilia
Strange way to spend a happy hour
Strange way to down a bitter cocktail
Strange way to merchandise your power

Strange way to reassure your mother
Strange way to finish your world tour
Strange way to pose for countless paintings
Strange way to gather in the poor

Strange dissident of meekness
And nurse of tangled souls
And so unlike the holy
To end up full of holes

The world is too much with us
Could we not now just elope?
Strange way to hold us closer
Strange way to give us hope
Strange way

Send for the bard!

An earlier thought scribbled before 'Write the songs':

We need bards, in every generation. Singer-songwriters, poets, those who write novels for children: those who give voice to history so give the present identity. We need the kind of ballads a whole family can rip through on a long car journey, and the anthems a rugby crowd can bawl during a match. We need the stories which can be myths of identity: those which give a deeper, older, more communal sense of being than that of an individual composition of organic matter.

We don't have to see these stories as fact. But it seems a sad loss to me, that while I grew up with Odin, Zeus, Prosperine, Hercules, Mount Olympus, Valhalla, Sigfried, Odydius, the Minotaur, Icarus, Helen, Midas, and all of C.S.Lewis' more recent explorations of gods, myth and mediaeval cosmology, most children now will have lost those. I don't think they were true; they did represent that we live in a meaning-drenched universe.

[Inspired by: Bob Dylan, Martyn Joseph, a rawkous and fast family rendition of 'The Rattlin' Bog' en route to Aberdeen, the strength of The Fields o Athenry during the Eng-Ire game in Dublin, Chronicles of Narnia, the Cosmic Trilogy, & 'Til We Have Faces.]

Developed more in 'Write the songs'.

Quote of the day: write the songs

I knew a very wise man [who] believed if a man were permitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who should make the laws of a nation. And we find that most of the ancient legislators thought they could not well reform the manners of any city without the help of a lyric, and sometimes of a dramatic poet. But in this city the dramatic poet no less than the ballad-maker has been almost wholly employed to corrupt the people, in which they have had most unspeakable and deplorable success.

Andrew Fletcher, in 'An account of a conversation concerning a right regulation of governments for the common good of mankind'.*

After all, a song-writer doesn't merely reflect society, but forms its thoughts. Its not just the catchy phrase that gets stuck in your head. 

Lady Gaga saddens me - she seems so insubstantial, so ever-changing, that I wonder if even she knows who she is. Singing female-affirming lyrics, but gyrating undressed enough to ruin any man's imagination. Announcing herself as an obscenely-birthed goddess, 'mother monster', but reducing herself to a piece of meat on stage. But 31,124,368 people 'like' her on facebook, and she attracts such comments from young girls as,  

'mother monster, I wouldn't have made it this far in my life without you, if it weren't for you coming along in the spotlight, i would have commited suicide. YOU saved my life! I always keep you in my heart.' 

So when Lady Gaga confusedly denies anything wrong in her life 'cos God makes no mistakes, I'm on the right track, baby: I was born this way', wanting acceptance without repentance or atonement, that'll be what people hear. When Lady Gaga insinuates that it's God's job to accept her, 'cos she was born this way, that's what people will feel. When Lady Gaga sings of justification by self-love 'just love yourself and you're set', poor homo curvatus in se will turn in on ourselves with little encouragement needed, and be justified as little as the Pharisee in Jesus' story. 

We need songs which call us out of ourselves! [Amusing '80s example - with some truth!] Even better, songs which impress truth into us from outside, so we can then express it. What goes in will come out! 

[* HT: Christian Persuaders podcast - Susan Boyle & the MP expenses scandal]

Musical shape of soul

An excellent article drawing on Athanasius on singing the Psalms. Useful for self-expression? Not primarily: foremost, they impress their truth into us, only then do they form our expression. The Song-Shaped Soul, by Steven R Guthrie (pdf).

Decide this doubt

Oh make this heart rejoice or ache;
Decide this doubt for me;
And if it be not broken, break,
And heal it, if it be.

- William Cowper, from a longer poem/hymn, here. 

 

[HT: Tim Sandell]

Something to sing about!

O how the grace of God amazes me!

It loosed me from my bonds and set me free!

What made it happen so?

His own will, this much I know,

set me, as now I show,
at liberty.

My God has chosen me, though one of nought,

To sit beside my King in heaven’s court.

Hear what my Lord has done:

O, the love that made him run

to meet his erring son!
This has God wrought.

Not for my righteousness, for I have none,

but for his mercy’s sake, Jesus, God’s Son,

suffered on Calvary’s tree -

crucified with thieves was he -

great was His grace to me,

his wayward one.

And when I think of how, at Calvary,

he bore sin’s penalty instead of me,

amazed, I wonder why

he, the sinless One, should die

for one so vile as I:

my Saviour he!

Now all my heart’s desire is to abide

in Him, my Saviour dear, in Him to hide.
My shield and buckler he,

covering and protecting me:

from Satan’s darts I’ll be

safe at his side.

Lord Jesus, hear my prayer, your grace impart;

when evil thoughts arise through Satan’s art,

O, drive them all away

and my God, from day to day,

keep me beneath your sway,

King of my heart.

Come now, the whole of me, eyes, ears and voice,

join me, creation all, with joyful noise:

praise Him who broke the chain

holding me in sin’s domain,

and set me free again!

Sing and rejoice!

Emmanuel Sibomana, c.1910-75

Translated by Rosemary Guillebaud

Beneath the cross? No fear!

I love radio, and particularly at the moment BBC Radio 3, 4 and 2, depending on the mood and in that order. Earlier today BBC Radio 3 was playing various lamentations, judged appropriate for the Saturday of Easter. I switched over. I just can't keep myself mournful on the Saturday of Easter. I do find some aspects of the church calendar tradition very helpful to our corporate memory. And it is not that I don't consider it right to grieve over the ongoing presence, corruption and effect of sin and the curse: but death, hell and sin are now subdued - all grace is now to Jesus given; and so I plead the atoning blood, and by his grace receive his heaven! How can I be gloomy when that is the reality of the universe, and applied to me by the Spirit of God?

Of course, you may say that Christ's death was indeed a sorry affair, at that we await Easter Sunday. But we don't! We cannot view Christ's death without the resurrection - the cross is empty; it is finished! It is no longer gloomy, beneath the cross.

Rather this, which I discovered and sang on Friday, by Keith & Kristyn Getty (2005):

Beneath the cross of Jesus I find a place to stand,
And wonder at such mercy that calls me as I am,
For hands that should discard me hold wounds which tell me come.
Beneath the cross of Jesus my unworthy soul is won.

Beneath the cross of Jesus, His family is my own.
Once strangers chasing selfish dreams; Now, one through grace alone.
How could I now dishonour the ones that You have loved?
Beneath the cross of Jesus, see the children called by God.

Beneath the cross of Jesus, the path before the crown,
We follow in His footsteps where promised hope is found.
How great the joy before us to be His perfect bride.
Beneath the cross of Jesus, we will gladly live our lives.

[Music here - clip of mp3 streamed or sample the whole score with Sibelius Scorch (free) here.]

Some things just haven't been bettered

I was brought up on hymns and metrical psalms, in equal measure (no pun intended). I love many modern worship songs, and seem to be gradually working my way through teaching the Getty & Townend canon to my church. But as I prepare to delight in Jesus with Wolverhampton Uni CU through this passage on Monday evening, I can't think of anything but the hymn below to follow it. And reading it to them just won't be the same as having everyone stand and declare it in song to God and to each other with joy and music. I'd welcome suggestions of worship songs which fulfil the same function as this 1749 hymn of Wesley - bearing in mind that a former Wolverhampton CU leader expressed surprise that I expected him to know a popular worship song written "when he was 12". But unless someone comes up with something really good, I'm very tempted to take to the piano and teach this to them!

And it happened that while Apollos was at Corinth, Paul passed through the inland country and came to Ephesus. There he found some disciples. And he said to them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?” And they said, “No, we have not even heard that there is a Holy Spirit.” And he said, “Into what then were you baptised?” They said, “Into John's baptism.” And Paul said, “John baptised with the baptism of repentance, telling the people to believe in the one who was to come after him, that is, Jesus.” On hearing this, they were baptised in the name of the Lord Jesus. And when Paul had laid his hands on them, the Holy Spirit came on them, and they began speaking in tongues and prophesying. There were about twelve men in all.

And he entered the synagogue and for three months spoke boldly, reasoning and persuading them about the kingdom of God. But when some became stubborn and continued in unbelief, speaking evil of the Way before the congregation, he withdrew from them and took the disciples with him, reasoning daily in the hall of Tyrannus. This continued for two years, so that all the residents of Asia heard the word of the Lord, both Jews and Greeks.

And God was doing extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that even handkerchiefs or aprons that had touched his skin were carried away to the sick, and their diseases left them and the evil spirits came out of them. Then some of the itinerant Jewish exorcists undertook to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who had evil spirits, saying, “I adjure you by the Jesus whom Paul proclaims.” Seven sons of a Jewish high priest named Sceva were doing this. But the evil spirit answered them, “Jesus I know, and Paul I recognize, but who are you?” And the man in whom was the evil spirit leaped on them, mastered all of them and overpowered them, so that they fled out of that house naked and wounded. And this became known to all the residents of Ephesus, both Jews and Greeks. And fear fell upon them all, and the name of the Lord Jesus was extolled. Also many of those who were now believers came, confessing and divulging their practices. And a number of those who had practised magic arts brought their books together and burned them in the sight of all. And they counted the value of them and found it came to fifty thousand pieces of silver. So the word of the Lord continued to increase and prevail mightily.

Jesus! the Name high over all,
In hell or earth or sky;
Angels and men before it fall,
And devils fear and fly.

Jesus! the Name to sinners dear,
The Name to sinners giv’n;
It scatters all their guilty fear,
It turns their hell to Heav’n.

Jesus! the prisoner’s fetters breaks,
And bruises Satan’s head;
Power into strengthless souls he speaks,
And life into the dead.

O that the world might taste and see
The riches of His grace!
The arms of love that welcome me
Would all mankind embrace.

Him I shall constantly proclaim,
Though earth and hell oppose;
Bold to confess His glorious Name
Before a world of foes.

His righteousness alone I show,
His saving truth proclaim;
This is my work on earth below,
To cry 'Behold the Lamb!'

Happy, if with my final breath
I may but gasp His Name,
Preach Him to all and cry in death,
'Behold, behold the Lamb!'

- Charles Wesley, 1707-88

Deeper than shame; further than far, far away

Matt Redman's new song:

Who, O Lord, could save themselves
Their own soul could heal?
Our shame was deeper than the sea
Your grace is deeper still.

You alone can rescue
You alone can save
You alone can lift us from the grave
You came down to find us
Led us out of death
To You alone belongs the highest praise

You, O Lord, have made a way
The great divide you healed
For when our hearts were far away
Your love went further still
Yes, Your love goes further still

We lift up our eyes, lift up our eyes
You're the giver of life.

[HT: Dan Hames]

Christ the key and cornerstone

I've been pondering lately a couple of key critiques, which are actually one. A friend in church said of a children's talk of late, that a Muslim would've been happy with it. My Mum would sometimes critique a service, that a (non-Messianic) Jew would've been happy with it. It may sound extreme rhetoric, but passing over whether or not these critiques were true in those instances, it is the key critique. What does our service, what does the talk, what does our church life, make of Christ? If the good news of Jesus Christ weren't true, would the talk still hold? It shouldn't! The hymn below is a new one to me, and I know I shall enjoy singing it with church this morning!

All praise to Christ, our Lord and King divine,
Yielding His glory in His love’s design,
That in our darkened hearts His grace might shine: Alleluia! Alleluia!

Christ came to us in lowliness of thought;
By Him the outcast and the poor were sought,
And by His death was our redemption bought: Alleluia! Alleluia!

The mind of Christ is as our mind should be –
He was a servant, that we might be free,
Humbling Himself to death on Calvary: Alleluia! Alleluia!

And so we see in God’s great purpose how
Christ has been raised above all creatures now,
And at His name shall every nation bow: Alleluia! Alleluia!

Let every tongue confess with one accord,
in heaven and earth, that Jesus Christ is Lord,
and God the Father be by all adored: Alleluia! Alleluia!

(by F. Bland Tucker, 1938, alt. ©The Church Pension Fund)

I belong to a Master

A hymn to go with my previous post on being Slaves of Christ - by Frances Ridley Havergal (1836-79):

Jesus, Master, whose I am,
purchased yours alone to be,
by your blood, O perfect Lamb,
shed so willingly for me:
let my heart be all your own,
let me live to you alone.

Jesus, Master, whom I serve,
though so feebly and so ill,
strengthen hand and heart and nerve
all your bidding to fulfil:
open now my eyes to see
all the work you have for me.

Jesus, Master, will you use
one who owes you more than all?
As you will! I would not choose;
only let me hear your call.
Jesus, let me always be
in your service, glad and free.

Jesus, Master, I am yours;
keep me faithful, keep me near,
shine on all my days and hours,
all my homeward way to cheer.
Jesus! at your feet I fall;
be my Lord, my all-in-all!

It occurs to me what a privilege it was to grow up singing this, and other beautiful hymns. It lodged such truths and expressions in me, so that reading them, they didn't seem strange to me, but right and familiar. Challenging, yes, but not perculiar or alien. Praise God for His gift to His church, of hymn-writers!

Bless the Lord, my soul - in Christ

Making chicken creole this morning before church, singing:

O Thou my soul, bless God the Lord;
And all that in me is
Be stirrèd up his holy name
To magnify and bless.

Bless, O my soul, the Lord thy God,
And not forgetful be
Of all his gracious benefits
He hath bestowed on thee.
All thine iniquities who doth
Most graciously forgive:
Who thy diseases all and pains
Doth heal, and thee relieve.
Who doth redeem thy life, that thou
To death mayeset not go down;
Who thee with loving-kindness doth
And tender mercies crown:

Who with abundance of good things
Doth satisfy thy mouth;
So that, even as the eagle's age,
Renewèd is thy youth.

God righteous judgement executes
For all oppressèd ones.
His ways to Moses he made known,
His acts to Israel's sons.

The Lord our God is merciful
And he is gracious,
Long-suffering, and slow to wrath,
In mercy plenteous.
He will not chide continually,
Nor keep his anger still.
With us he dealt not as we sinned,
Nor did requite our ill.

For as the heaven in its height
The earth surmounteth far,
So great to those that do him fear
His tender mercies are:
As far as east is distant from
The west, so far hath he
From us removèd in his love,
All our iniquity.

Such pity as father hath
Unto his children dear,
Like pity shows the Lord to such
As worship him in fear.
For he remembers we are dust,
And he our frame well knows.
Frail man, his days are like the grass,
As flower in field he grows:
For over it the wind doth pass,
And it away is gone;
And of the place where once it was
It shall no more be known.

But unto them that do him fear
God's mercy never ends;
And to their children's children still
His righteousness extends:
To such as keep his covenant,
And mindful are alway
Of his commandments just and good,
That they may them obey.

The Lord preparèd hath his throne
In heavens firm to stand;
And every thing that being hath
His kingdom doth command.

O ye his angels, that excel
In strength, bless ye the Lord;
Ye who obey what he commands,
And hearken to his word.
O bless and magnify the Lord,
Ye glorious hosts of his;
Ye ministers that do fulfil
Whate'er his pleasure is.

O bless the Lord, all ye his works,
Wherewith the world is stored
In his dominions every where.
My soul, bless thou the Lord.

[Psalm 103, from the Revised Scottish Metrical psalter]

And bless the Lord, my soul, that vv.17-18 was true of the Messiah Jesus:

But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
on those who fear him,
and his righteousness to children's children,
to those who keep his covenant
and remember to do his commandments.

And we, in Him, are bound up in his covenant-keeping, his obedience, and his righteousness - my soul, bless thou the Lord!

Dichotomising

Which rules you more? a) Your head; b) Your heart.

My thoughts responded: Well, I'd naturally say my head - but the heart controls our desires really: the Scripture says that we follow the desires of the heart. But we are to counter by setting our minds on the things of Christ. Hm. Head or heart? Which rules you more? What a dreadful false dichotomy: this is one reason why I hate such personality type tests, although I was persuaded they may be useful in considering job suitability. However, then I realised that I'd just responded to the question itself with a line of reasoning, so in personality type terms, rather than Biblical terms, perhaps I'm more of a head person than a heart person. Eugh.

May the mind of Christ my Saviour
Live in me from day to day,
By His love and power controlling
All I do and say.

May the Word of God dwell richly
In my heart from hour to hour,
So that all may see I triumph
Only through His power.

May the peace of God my Father
Rule my life in everything,
That I may be calm to comfort
Sick and sorrowing.

May the love of Jesus fill me,
As the waters fill the sea;
Him exalting, self abasing,
This is victory.

May I run the race before me,
Strong and brave to face the foe,
Looking only unto Jesus
As I onward go.

May His beauty rest upon me
As I seek the lost to win,
And may they forget the channel,
Seeing only Him.

Kate Barclay Wilkinson (1859-1928)

Jesus paid it all

I hear the Saviour say,
“Thy strength indeed is small;
Child of weakness, watch and pray,
Find in Me thine all in all.”

Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

For nothing good have I
Whereby Thy grace to claim;
I’ll wash my garments white
In the blood of Calv’ry’s Lamb.

And now complete in Him,
My robe, His righteousness,
Close sheltered ’neath His side,
I am divinely blest.

Lord, now indeed I find
Thy pow’r, and Thine alone,
Can change the leper’s spots
And melt the heart of stone.

When from my dying bed
My ransomed soul shall rise,
“Jesus died my soul to save,”
Shall rend the vaulted skies.

And when before the throne
I stand in Him complete,
I’ll lay my trophies down,
All down at Jesus’ feet.

- Elvina Hall, 1865. Free mp3 recording from Sovereign Grace Music.

[I'd rather she'd not written only, "Jesus died my soul to save," but more: "Jesus died my all to save," or something else which would fit - but as she lifts our eyes to when we stand before the throne complete in Christ, there's a resurrection body in there too, albeit vaguely!]

How great I am!

The sick song of the human heart, which so often sings this under its breath. Not that anyone hears the tune, but the effects can usually be seen. How humbling it is to ask, "Why did I just say that? Why did I just do Y?" So often the answer is "Worship." But not as we'd like to profess:

In Spirit and truth

Our expression of worship should accord with the nature and person of the God we're worshipping, and how he has enabled us to worship: his salvation in Jesus. Exuberant joy, declaring together the praises of him who called us out of darkness into his glorious light. Inexpressible longing in this present time awaiting the glory yet to be revealed when we will be raised like Him. Reverence and awe that we worship the creator and sustainer of the universe who dwells in unapproachable light; and wonderful thankfulness that yet we draw near to enjoy his presence without being consumed in the fire of his holiness because we are in Christ, clothed with his righteousness and indwelt by His Spirit. Love and deep respect as we call out to this God, "Father!" by his Spirit who dwells in us, who has made us joint-heirs with the Son.

How frequently our expression falls so short: not thankful reverence befitting his holiness and our approach in Christ alone, but mostly dullness of heart befitting a cultural reserve. Not joyful exuberance at the infinite glory of Jesus whom we know and love even through present suffering, but mostly excitement at good music. In this we're in Romans 8 - we long for the day when our bodily, spiritual, emotional, heartfelt response will truly fit the glory of the God in whose image we'll be made new at the final redemption of our bodies, like his Son.

In the meantime, let's encourage and exhort one another towards this. We may groan in this present suffering - but not at the musicians (or lack thereof) or the fellow members of the body of Christ, but at our own hearts and minds which do not worship as we ought. Let's not judge each other, or our churches, by our expression in sung worship. That is, according to the Spirit-breathed word, I may say my church shows wholehearted love and devotion to Christ not because they show it in song, but because they love one another in deed and truth (see James & 1 John). And I may say my church express in worship true reverence for the holiness and majesty of God not primarily by an awesome solemnity in song, or falling face down, but primarily by pursuing holiness for ourselves and each other: this is our spiritual act of worship (1 Peter 1, Rom 12.1).

Unsurprisingly, we will encourage each other in these things if we sing accordingly too, aiming at expression befitting the person of our devotion (see Col 3.12-17). Let's not aim for less, but more. But let's not judge each other by tests the Spirit has not given (cultural or emotional expression in sung worship). We might miss what he's actually working, and fail to give him the thanks and glory due his name.

Jiving the psalms

I'm currently enjoying playing Stuart Townend's recent album Monument to Mercy. I like the song Kyrie, mostly because anything even verging on psalmic lament should be welcomed.

FOR EVERY CHILD who lies
Still beneath his mother’s eyes
She’s asking why a God of love
Would give then take away

For every self-made man
Doing everything he can
To fill the void that’s deep within
Eating at his soul

Oh have mercy...
Have mercy on us all

For every wife who cries
When her husband’s lying eyes
Give the sordid game away
And something dies within

For those who walk the street
Destitute and desperate
We shake our heads and wash our hands
And hurry on our way

Oh have mercy...
Have mercy on us all

Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
Lord have mercy
Have mercy on us all

Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy
Have mercy on us all

O God forgive us for the wrong that we have done
The night is filled with weeping and we’re aching for the dawn
O God of love this world has suffered for so long
Have mercy on us all

We want to see the light we want to see the day
When hope is realised and hatred washed away
When justice rules the heart compassion leads the way
Have mercy on us all

Forgive our driven need
To make a virtue out of greed
We’ve set our hearts on worldly things
That cannot satisfy

We’ve used tomorrow’s gold today
While nature chokes long the way
How many years before we pay?
Perhaps we’re paying now...

Lord have mercy
Christ have mercy
Lord have mercy
Have mercy on us all

Stuart Townend
Copyright © 2006 Thankyou Music

But why, why, oh why, is this done upbeat and major? Stuart has done a few good songs like this which are ruined by the style. I don't really want to bop along to a Kyrie. In fact, I'm quite sure that psalms of lament, of petition, and impecatory psalms were not designed to be danced to or musically celebrated. I'm not exactly a traditionalist, but perhaps the old minor Welsh hymn tunes have a good place (when not dragged flat and dirge-like anyway :)) Sample here. Still, do check out the rest of the album. 'I'm grateful' is a nice opening track, and 'My God' is a great gospel style piece.

Walk with the Lord

"How's your walk with the Lord?" I'm not sure where we get this vocabulary. A quick search of the ESV led me to conclude that the whole phrase is non-Biblical (NB, not unbiblical necesarily!) but that the Israelites spoke of walking before the Lord wholeheartedly, or uprightly. Now, that I can get. But while "walk with the Lord" expresses some truths (he is in us and we depend on him for our every breath and atom, we must walk in his ways, according to his revelation, we walk with Christ as our Lord), the phrase sounds like we should be strolling through the sunlit park with a cool breeze, arm in arm with our Saviour.

"When we walk with the Lord, in the light of his word, what a glory he sheds on our way!
When we do his good will, he delights in us still, and with all who will trust and obey!"

This expression and this song always get me rather depressed. Is it really true that when we walk in the light of God's word, the way seems glorious? That not a shadow will rise, not a tear in our eyes, but his smile quickly drives it away? Could it not be that we're afflicted in every way, perplexed, persecuted, struck down, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, with death at work in us? Could it be that the glory isn't lighting up the path exactly, but hidden in our easily-broken clay-pot bodies as the life of Christ so that we're not quite crushed, or despairing, or forsaken, or destroyed? Could it be that we're fighting a battle against unbelief and despair, against distrust and disobedience, against inordinate desires and misplaced hopes, and that the glory is not so much in the present walk of complete obedience as in the fact that the life of Christ is at work in us so that we haven't surrendered yet to the world, the flesh & the devil? Could it be that he delights in us anyway, because of the perfect, glorious righteousness of Christ!

This glory, this walk with the Lord, is not measured by a sunlit feeling of cosiness in his presence. This is a battle. A battle to knock down idols and replace them with the desire for knowing and enjoying God. A battle to be controlled by the Spirit, not by the flesh. A battle for joy in Christ.

It's rather paradoxical, admittedly. But I find it encouraging to remember. It spurs me on. It's not odd that I'm not strolling along a sunlit seashore with nothing but an occasional swot at a fly or outcrop of rock to negotiate. If I'm on a beach it's because I'm fighting on the beaches, in the war against unbelief, and inordinate desires, and by God's grace I haven't surrendered to the enemy. Praise him!

nihil habeo

Nihil. Nil. Nothing.

I come into Your presence
With nothing in my hands
I only bring thanksgiving
For Jesus, God and Man
I cast myself on mercy
I cast myself on love
I trust Your gracious promise
To wash me with Your blood

I will not fear Your judgment
For me, no wrath I dread
For it was spent on Jesus
Poured out upon His head
When Satan’s accusations
Make my poor heart afraid
I hear my King declaring,
“Father, that debt is paid”

Jesus my only hope, my only plea
My righteousness, my Great High Priest
Who intercedes for me before the throne
Jesus, I trust in You alone

Mark Altrogge
© 2002 Sovereign Grace Praise (BMI).

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