The Power of Words

It's been a long time since I've posted anything. I'd like to mark my return to my blog by posting a quote about the beauty and power of the written word in an excerpt in a letter from Heloise to Abelard. I won't go into any details about their history at this time. But read what Heloise wrote. In a day and age of texts and Snapchat, I thought it would be appropriate to show this.


 "If a picture, which is but a mute representation of an object, can give such pleasure, what cannot letters inspire? They have souls; they can speak; they have in them all that force which expresses the transports of the heart; they have all the fire of our passions, they can raise them as much as if the persons themselves were present; they have all the tenderness and the delicacy of speech, and sometimes even a boldness of expression beyond it."

Here is an excerpt from Jill Carratini (of Ravi Zacharias International Ministries) concerning the cross. It blessed me greatly. I think it will bless and strengthen you as well.


STILL DEEPER DARKNESS

For the Christian, the crucifixion is the center of the whole; the event that gives voice to a broken, dark, and dying world, and the paradoxical suggestion of life somehow within it. The Christian marks steeples and graves in memory of the crucifixion. He wears its reminder in silver, binds it on Bibles in gold, smears it in ashes on foreheads. The death of Christ is the occasion that makes way for the last to be first, the guilty to be pardoned, Christians to be Christian. His death is the universal sacrament that stands in the center of the history of the world and changes everything. "I have been crucified with Christ," said one of his most transformed followers. "It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."

The suffering and death of Christ is indeed an image that gives expression to inexplicable tragedy, unnecessary suffering, and perplexing darkness. But the Cross is also the event that jarringly marks that suffering, death, tragedy, and sorrow as qualities to which the Son of God willingly submitted himself. "For surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases." In the cruciform image of Christ on the Cross, our own sense of tragedy is not only affirmed, it is chosen. Christ has left the glory of heaven behind and gone into the dark world where we stand.

It might be common to think of Christ's death as a gift of forgiveness and assurance, a radical attempt of God to reach the world in person, a comforting depiction of the depth of divine mercy and hope. It is all these things for the Christian indeed, and on most days this is enough to quiet restless thoughts and ease unanswered questions. But like life itself, which can lay us low with tragedy, seize our hope and leave despair in its wake, the Cross is also more. And Christ speaks into this darkness as only one who is acquainted with it can.

In his essay "Tragedy and Christian Faith," Hans Urs von Balthasar describes Christ as answering the despair of humanity not by dissolving or disregarding it, “but by bearing that affirmation of the human condition as it is, through still deeper darknesses in finem, 'to the end' as love..."(2) That is to say, Christ's is a love that bears our brokenness as his own, moving though still deeper darknesses, and bearing it to the end. At the center of the Christian faith is a Cross that is not alien to tragedy, and a savior not complacent in the face of suffering. Christ is not blind to the pains of the world nor passive aggressive in the face of despair. On the contrary, the Cross is a portrayal of passion, not passivity. Christ willingly carried defeat, thirst, and emptiness through the end of the darkness to the ends of himself and the ends of the world. For those of us who labor in circumstances that affirm the human condition of brokenness, this divine act makes sense of the struggle, brings meaning to our suffering, and makes further accessible the peace of the Cross Paul described: "[T]hrough him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things by making peace through the blood of his cross."

Christ does not refuse our sense of tragedy or awareness of pain. He bears it in love, affirming our condition, carrying our sorrows to the end, all the way to the heart of God.


Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

HIDING YOUR EGYPTIAN

"He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he

struck down the Egyptian and hid him in the sand."

Exodus 2:12

I must confess that I've never seriously cogitated over Moses killing the Egyptian in Exodus 2. It's one of those things in scripture that, to be honest, I zip through rather quickly because I'm anxious to move on to the more pertinent aspects of the story. In a recent reading of this passage an entirely new (to me) idea came to my mind, and I saw Moses in a different light. I did not see him flexing his pre-Deliverer muscles to nobly rescue a fellow Hebrew from a mean, nasty Egyptian taskmaster. On the contrary, I saw Moses committing a transgression - noble intentions notwithstanding - and trying to cover his transgression in the process. I make no claims to original thinking here, but it is worth considering.

I do not know the depth of Moses' relationship with God at this time or if he possessed a Messianic ambition to lead Israel out of Egypt. What is evident is that He identified with his people - despite living in Pharaoh's house instead of Hebrew slave dwellings - to the degree that he was willing to murder for them.

So, what is the point here? The point is that although Moses may have felt justified in murdering this Egyptian, he had enough conscience to know that this was wrong, at least in the eyes of Egyptian law. That's why "He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he struck down the Egyptian."

All Christians sin, and occasionally we try to justify or blame our sins on bad people and/or bad circumstances. I don't know if Moses felt such a need to justify his actions, but I suspect that witnessing the brutal beating of a fellow Hebrew stirred up an anger that may not have been altogether wholly righteous. There are times which do call for righteous anger as David evidences numerous times in his Psalms, but I don't know if that is the case with Moses here. One thing in this context stands out to me: that unrighteous and/or uncontrolled passions/emotions can deceive us to the point where we justify our sin.
Adding insult to injury, sometimes we sin when we think no one else is looking, conveniently forgetting that God sees it all regardless. Did Moses think about God watching him? He might have, but I think it more likely that he was so focused on retribution that if it did cross his mind, it was only for a nanosecond.

I'm convinced this happens when we try to hide our own "Egyptian." We shut God out of our minds and worry more that someone will find us out and expose our secret. So we try to make sure no one knows about our sin before heading to the nearest sand dune. The problem - as Moses found out - is that we can't always account for everybody and every cirucumstance no matter how smart we think we are. I can't speak dogmatically, but I suspect that even with his "Egyptian" hidden in the sand, Moses was looking over his shoulder every waking minute. And if we've ever found ourselves in this situation, we have done exactly the same thing. We may think we're safe, but the thought runs through our mind that maybe, just maybe, we haven't covered all the bases. And if enough time passes, we may deceive ourselves - despite our consciences - that we've succeeded in getting away with it.

The good thing is that Moses didn't get away with it, and in the process learned humility- albeit the hard way. It looks like he wanted to deliver Israel by his own strength, but he sinned by murdering an Egyptian and then by trying to cover his sin up. God had to humble him, and at the end of 40 years Moses was the man God wanted to lead Israel out of Egypt.

Like with Moses, God loves us enough to expose our sin to others when necessary. And as difficult as that might be, we should remember that He can use our sin to humble us and shape us into the person He wants to use for His glory.

The sun, a world whence other worlds drink light,

The crescent moon, the diadem of night;

Stars countless, each in his appointed place,

Fast anchored in the deep abyss of space ---

At such a sight to catch the poet's flame,

And with a rapture like his own exclaim,

" These are thy glorious works, thou Source of good,

How dimly seen, how faintly understood!

Thine, and upheld by Thy paternal care,

This universal frame, thus wondrous fair;

Thy power divine, and bounty beyond thought,

Adored and praised in all that Thou hast wrought."

---- William Cowper

The same God who ordains the sun to shine likewise ordains the shadows that fall.

"Faith must be strong, or love will not be fervent; the root of the flower
must be healthy, or we cannot expect the bloom to be sweet. Faith is
the lily's root, and love is the lily's bloom."

--- Charles Spurgeon

SOLUTION TO GLOB-AL WARMING

While the Satisfied Mind doesn't subscribe to the bushwah surrounding the issue of global warming, he is nonetheless a practical and pragmatic person. Here is a simple solution that helps reduce hot air (greenhouse gases) and noise pollution.