The compassionate man

There was once a very bad man who owned many slaves, and who had a lot of wealth because of the work of his slaves. This bad man was also very strong, and all of his slaves were afraid of him, and rightly so. One day, however, another strong man, who was very compassionate, overpowered the slave owner and tied him up, and started to free all of his slaves. As he freed the slaves, he plundered the bad man's house, and gave the wealth to the freed slaves. But some of the slaves had been promoted to rule over and torture their fellow slaves, and they did not want to be set free. Others were afraid of change. But the ones who embraced freedom were very grateful to the compassionate man, and helped him free the other slaves. Some of the chief slaves tried to stop them, but the compassionate man was too strong for them. He and all the people he had rescued lived freely ever after.

TPJ

My sin is ever before me

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin. For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you only, I have sinned and done what is evil in your sight, so you are justified when you speak and blameless when you judge.

My sin is ever before me.

My sin is ever before me.

It never goes away, does it?

I long to be clean, to be washed from the filth of all the bad things I do.

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me away from your presence, and do not take your Holy Spirit from me. Restore to me the joy of your salvation and sustain me with a willing spirit.

Part of me fears that you will do to me what I have always deserved.

Please don't.

I would surely die without you.

I need your forgiveness.

I need your Spirit the way a starving child needs food.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

Thank you for your goodness. Now, your goodness is mine, because you have washed away everything bad in me and repleced it with your good Spirit. Now, my spirit is steadfast and one with you. You renew my spirit day by day.

TPJ

The otherplace desire

Something strange occurred to me when I was reading a C.S. Lewis tribute blog here. I realized that a feeling I had as a child (and sometimes feel again) was a still-unfulfilled desire of sorts, a sort of longing for a place I couldn't describe. Such a feeling was stirred when reading the Narnia books, certainly, but also when playing Zelda on the Nintendo, or playing outside with my imagination on a windy day, or any number of other things a serious-minded person might consider frivolous. When I was younger, I assumed that this desire was frivolous, and selfish, but I gradually came to accept it as God-given, requiring only proper guidance to be sanctified to God's use. However, I did not associate this feeling directly with heaven until I read this particular quotation of Lewis':

"Probably earthly pleasures were never meant to satisfy it, but only to arouse it, to suggest the real thing. If that is so, I must take care, on the one hand, never to despise, or be unthankful for, these earthly blessings, and on the other, never to mistake them for something else of which they are only a kind of a copy, or echo, or mirage. I must keep alive in myself the desire for my true country, which I shall not find till after death; I must never let it get snowed under or turned aside; I must make it the main object of life to press on to that other country and to help others to do the same."

Astonishingly, Lewis nails here excatly what I've experienced since my earliest coherent memories. The earthly pleasure of playing Zelda as a child indeed did not satisfy my desire for the other place I couldn't clearly see or describe - that's why I still felt that desire, and feel it as such sometimes today. But the things that I enjoyed the most back then (like Zelda) and the things I enjoy the most today (partly cloudy, windy days) arouse this otherplace desire, reminding me once again that there is somewhere I want to be that can't be found on earth or in outer space, and can't be described using human language.

I have always felt that this otherplace desire is drawing me towards writing a novel of sorts, trying to capture that feeling, which I have long suspected (and now am sure) is impossible. On the other hand, perhaps a book I can write can awaken the latent otherplace desire in someone else, the way the Narnia books did in me. That would easily be one of the greatest earthly pleasures for me.

TPJ

Glory far beyond all comparison

In all too many situations, I find that I can't tell the difference between what I do and what godless people do. Sometimes, it's because I can't think of anything better to do - decisions that seem to have nothing to do with morality or spirituality. But sometimes it's because I'm not thinking, or worse yet, don't have the courage to do what I know is right. In all of these cases, it seems like I have less treasure than jar (ref. 2 Corinthians 4:7, Bible). How many more persons would be saved, if only my light had been brighter, purer than it was?

Then again, are my failings the whole point? Is it that if I didn't fail, then when God succeeds in my life, no one would know it's God? That makes sense: if I were always succeeding, it would be normal to see me succeed. It wouldn't stand out. But as I am a failure, the success in my life is startling and noteworthy, thus leading to God.

Still, my own failure is unsettling and harmful. That makes it comforting that I am under a death sentence, with a posthumous reprieve. The sign of the Messiah - to die, and live as a result of the death in a blaze of glory like... oh, say a phoenix. All the time, I am becoming less like a jar, more like the treasure inside of the jar. We do not lose heart... our inner man is being renewed day by day.

Momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison.

TPJ