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Jesus takes His time to arrive where He's going.
He searches your eyes to see what you think; what you believe. People believe and then become who they are in the Kingdom of Heaven. People believe and then become who they are in the Kingdom of Heaven. People believe and then become who they are in the Kingdom of Heaven. Embracing death, Jesus was endeavoring to embrace us. How freeing to know that only Jesus can handle everything.
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Perfect adherence to the Law will not save you: the Old tried that and failed.
Every single person is as big of a sinner as any other: the Old and New agree on that fact. Trying to make your adherence to the New Covenant about you is returning to the terms of the Old Covenant. Instead, when Jesus died, your old nature died with Him, and you are invited now to RISE WITH HIM and BE NEW. You will be as new as the degree to which you allow Jesus Himself to live His resurrected life within you. You allow Him to do this by believing in Him, by abiding in Him, and by staying connected to Him at every moment: all the time. Understand: Jesus, in love, has already done it. Therefore, honoring His life and death and resurrection, we refuse ANYTHING with even a hint of the Old Law of self-perfection. And, with that, we refuse shame, every form of trying to hide, going-it-alone, discord with the people around ourselves, and, most importantly, any sense of any sort of disconnection with God. Under the New Covenant—which was sealed forever by the blood of Jesus Himself—we receive joyous mercy, being known, never being alone, new relationships, and our place at the Family Table of God. That is who we are now—and who we'll be. For this is what Jesus lived and died and lived again for. The New Covenant is entirely built upon the person, personality, and finished work of Jesus of Nazareth—that’s first.
Its ministry is His ministry—which is HIGHER—all of it mediated personally by Him—who is ABOVE--and is directly guaranteed by His personal promises—which are UTTERLY UNBREAKABLE. The New Covenant satisfies the every desire of the Father. The New Covenant came when Jesus came—the two are inseparable. The New Covenant dispenses with the Old. And, friends, it is IMPERATIVE that you internalize what I'm about to write: The New Covenant depends not on us. The New Covenant is the Way and Word of JESUS, WRITTEN on our hearts by His Spirit, and it MAKES us sons and daughters of God—ALREADY. The New Covenant is NOT instituted by our carefully being instructed in it, and internalizing its laws: it is built upon our Abiding in its basis… Jesus Himself. The New Covenant does not require hierarchies, accreditations, professional practitioners like the Old did. It requires our personally accepting the mercy He offers and the complete forgiveness of God—directly. The New Covenant asks of us our forgetfulness of who we used to be, our receiving of who He’s making us, and the joyous walking with Him as He does all the work of His Kingdom-heart. Friends, that’s the New. That’s the description of the lifestyle we’re meant to be living, daily. Anything less is, simply, not it. (And is in danger of trying, quite foolishly, to retreat to the Old.) "Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice. You will be sorrowful, but your sorrow will turn into joy... [Yes,] you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you. In that day you will ask nothing of me. Truly, truly, I say to you, whatever you ask of the Father in my name, he will give it to you. Until now you have asked nothing in my name. Ask, and you will receive, that your joy may be full." (John 16:20, 22-24) * * * "At present we are on the outside of the world, the wrong side of the door. We discern the freshness and purity of morning, but they do not make us fresh and pure. We cannot mingle with the splendours we see. But all the leaves of the New Testament are rustling with the rumour that it will not always be so. Someday, God willing, we shall get in. . . . When all the suns and nebulae have passed away, each one of you will still be alive. Nature is only the image, the symbol; but it is the symbol Scripture invites me to use. We are summoned to pass in through Nature, beyond her, into that splendour which she fitfully reflects. And in there, in beyond Nature, we shall eat of the tree of life." C.S. Lewis
The Weight of Glory “If any of you has a friend, and goes to him in the middle of the night and says, ‘Lend me three loaves, my dear fellow, for a friend of mine has just arrived after a journey and I have no food to put in front of him’; and then he answers from inside the house, ‘Don’t bother me with your troubles. The front door is locked and my children and I have gone to bed. I simply cannot get up now and give you anything!’ Yet, I tell you, that even if he won’t get up and give him what he wants simply because he is his friend, yet if he persists, he will rouse himself and give him everything he needs.”
"And so I tell you, ask and it will be given you, search and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you. The one who asks will always receive; the one who is searching will always find, and the door is opened to the man who knocks.” “Some of you are fathers, and if your son asks you for some fish, would you give him a snake instead, or if he asks you for an egg, would you make him a present of a scorpion? So, if you, for all your evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more likely is it that your Heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” (Luke 11:5-13, Phillips) What's interesting about this passage is that, front to back, it only makes sense when read according to the logic of its back-to-front. Without the excited promise of the Father's delight in offering His Holy Spirit, the first part makes Him sound like a grudging neighbor you'd have to bother in order to move. But no! Consider--considering the ending--what His invitation is: "And so I tell you, ask and the Holy Spirit will be given you, search and you will find the Holy Spirit, knock and the Holy Spirit's door will be opened to you. The one who asks will always receive the Holy Spirit; the one who is searching will always find the Holy Spirit, and the door of the Holy Spirit is opened to the man who knocks. "...your Heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!" Friends, at the start of a work-week, and already knowing what we know of the joy of experiencing the Spirit, let's ask for more of Him! The Early Church enjoyed fresh refillings throughout the actions of the Book of Acts; let's be about more of the same! “The Lord did not come to make a display. He came to heal and to teach suffering men. For one who wanted to make a display the thing would have been just to appear and dazzle the beholders. But for Him Who came to heal and to teach the way was not merely to dwell here, but to put Himself at the disposal of those who needed Him, and to be manifested according as they could bear it, not vitiating the value of the Divine appearing by exceeding their capacity to receive it.” Athanasius On the Incarnation 4th C. * * * "Since, then, 'the children' have a common physical nature as human beings, he also became a human being, so that by going through death as a man he might destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil; and might also set free those who lived their whole lives a prey to the fear of death. It is plain that for this purpose he did not become an angel; he became a man, in actual fact a descendant of Abraham. It was imperative that he should be made like his brothers in nature, if he were to become a High Priest both compassionate and faithful in the things of God, and at the same time able to make atonement for the sins of the people. For by virtue of his own suffering under temptation he is able to help those who are exposed to temptation." (Hebrews 2:14-18, Phillips)
Let’s say you, as one of the original, early-called disciples, are sitting with Jesus, on a terrace, overlooking the town of Capernaum, the water, the whole of the Galilee. It is evening: the dusklight colors everything orange and purple; the smell of the breeze is strong with the freshness of the sea, below. Those sunset colors are reflecting, rippling, beautifully on those waters. You are sitting at a long outdoor table, finishing your dinner. The town below this terrace is also finishing its dinner: all is quiet. The darkness, subtly, starts to descend.
The mother-in-law of one of your fellow disciples, Simon called Peter, rises from the table; she goes inside and then returns with something sweet to finish out the meal. You watch her as she moves around the table, doling it out. She is a picture of vitality, hospitality, the joy of simply being alive—at noontime, today, she’d been thought to be nearing her death on her deathbed. Then Jesus—now sitting at the head of the table, laughing as, yes, He’ll take another cup of wine—walked into her home and, with a touch and a word, healed her. Right then; right there. Next to Him—in fact, the very one who’d just caused Jesus to laugh at his well-timed joke—sits a man who, even now, you haven’t actually caught the name of. He is dressed in a tunic absolutely filthy, filled with holes; he looks like a streetcorner beggar who can’t get his act together… Earlier today,—just before the healing of Simon’s mother-in-law—this man had entered the synagogue, out of his mind with the evils of an inward demon. Jesus, with a look, with a word, then healed him just as completely as the woman now setting dessert on the plate in front of you. After dessert—darkness. Just the sounds of the gusts and the distant splash of the water onshore. Everyone has that feeling of satisfaction: of a good meal and decent wine: they are quiet, enjoying the feel of the evening… Until, first, one; then another; then two more; then, suddenly, tens, dozens, multiple-multiples of lamplights are visible down below at the edge of town. They look almost like fireflies at this distance. They are appearing, one by one, from within the houses along the sea’s edge; they then are gathering together at the western edge of the village. You and the other disciples, the man from the synagogue, Simon’s mother-in-law—and Jesus—all watch them start ascending this way. Their numbers narrow into a long, glowing, snaking line of lights as they start climbing the footpath that finds its destination upon this terrace… Hours later—having struggled to stay awake—utterly tired out with the day and the food and the wine—you are on your way into the house to find a corner for sleeping. Crossing the threshold, you look over your shoulder. Jesus—surrounded by the golden, glowing light of a hundred lamps all around the table—is still in the process of healing every single ailment of the town of Capernaum. He is listening to their requests; hearing their stories; rising and standing, kneeling and considering—He will not sleep until they all are free. And you are on your way to bed… “Dialogue is a token of genuine Christian love, because it indicates our steadfast resolve to rid our minds of the prejudices and caricatures that we may entertain about other people, to struggle to listen through their ears and look through their eyes so as to grasp what prevents them from hearing the gospel and seeing Christ, to sympathize with them in all their doubts, fears and 'hang-ups.' For such sympathy will involve listening, and listening means dialogue. It is once more the challenge of the incarnation, to renounce evangelism by inflexible slogans, and instead to involve ourselves sensitively in the real dilemmas that people face.” John R.W. Stott
Christian Mission in the Modern World “Jesus promised his disciples three things—that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble... The challenge of the Beatitudes is 'Will you be happy in the world's way, or in Christ's way?'” William Barclay
The Gospel of Luke 61 He heals a woman with a blood condition Mark 5:24b-34 AMONG [THE CROWDS] was a woman who had a haemorrhage for twelve years and who had gone through a great deal at the hands of many doctors (or physicians), spending all her money in the process. She had derived no benefit from them but, on the contrary, was getting worse. This woman had heard about Jesus and came up behind him under cover of the crowd, and touched his cloak, “For if I can only touch his clothes,” she said, “I shall be all right.” The haemorrhage stopped immediately, and she knew in herself that she was cured of her trouble. At once Jesus knew intuitively that power had gone out of him, and he turned round in the middle of the crowd and said, “Who touched my clothes?” His disciples replied, “You can see this crowd jostling you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’” But he looked all round at their faces to see who had done so. Then the woman, scared and shaking all over because she knew that she was the one to whom this thing had happened, came and flung herself before him and told him the whole story. But he said to her, “Daughter, it is your faith that has healed you. Go home in peace, and be free from your trouble.” Soon after… A YOUNG GIRL, TWELVE YEARS OLD, is walking down a narrow trail. The trail descends away from her home—high on the hilltop—and follows a ridge, switchbacking back and forth in its descent. To her left, the panorama of the sea is sparkling. The sky overhead is a pale, calming blue. There are only a very few clouds today. She is off the regular path (this trail is the multiyear creation of her own little feet) and she’s looking forward to seeing a friend down in town.
A woman is suddenly in view, climbing up from the townside. Her shawl is poor, edged with raggedness. She is intent on watching the upward progress of her steps; she doesn’t notice the young girl descending; they come upon each other, awkwardly, and step to the side of one another. The woman recognizes the young girl. “You are the daughter of Jairus, are you not?” she asks. The girl nods her head, carefully. “Will you do me a favor, then, my dear?” the woman asks. The girl squints her head and says nothing. (This situation, to her, feels fraught.) “Ask your abba to tell you the story—whether now or later tonight—of your twelve years and my twelve years. We will always share a story together, you and I…” The woman walks off upward, smiling a smile to herself. The girl watches her climb. “What the Lord Jesus looks for in us is a life laid at His feet—and that in view of His death and burial and of a future day. His burial was already in view that day in the home in Bethany. Today it is His crowning that is in view—when He shall be acclaimed in glory as the Anointed One, the Christ of God. Yes, then we shall pour out our all upon Him! But it is a precious thing—indeed it is a far more precious thing to Him—that we should anoint Him now, not with any material oil but with something costly, something from our hearts. “That which is merely external and superficial has no place here. It has already been dealt with by the Cross, and we have given our consent to God’s judgment upon it and learnt to know in experience its cutting off. What God is demanding of us now is represented by that flask of alabaster: something mined from the depths, something turned and chased and wrought upon, something that, because it is so truly of the Lord, we cherish as Mary cherished that flask—and we would not, we dare not break it. It comes now from the heart, from the very depth of our being; and we come to the Lord with that, and we break it and pour it out and say: ‘Lord, here it is. It is all Yours, because You are worthy!’—and the Lord has got what He desired. May He receive such an anointing from us today.” Watchman Nee
The Normal Christian Life "On the last day, the climax of the festival, Jesus stood up and cried out, 'If any man is thirsty, he can come to me and drink!'" (Jn. 7:37, Phillips) * * * "Jesus Christ is a God whom we approach without pride and before whom we humble ourselves without despair." Blaise Pascal
Pensées I’m sure many of you, having been serious about investigating the Way of Jesus for years yourself, are perfectly familiar with the opening of the famous “faith chapter”—Hebrews 11. Probably you know it in its most natural rendering, like this: “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old received their commendation.” (ESV) My favorite version of the New Testament renders it like this: “Now faith means putting our full confidence in the things we hope for, it means being certain of things we cannot see. It was this kind of faith that won their reputation for the saints of old.” (Phillips) Both are good. But the original Greek is interesting, because the word-order is almost never like ours, and the words used are so full of potential for our understanding phrasings, and meanings, so differently. In fact, if I could re-render these two famous verses differently for you, they would go like this: “Now belief (or faith (or trust)) is the foundation (and structure) of things hoped for, the argument for those pragmatic things currently unseen. In this way, the ancients bore witness.”
My friends, “faith” is the ascription of what we see and feel in front of ourselves over and unto everything we know of Jesus within that space. I think we Christians think of “faith,” too often, only as a macrocosmic eternal economy when, from the pages of the New Testament—and especially in the Gospels—it’s very clear that it’s both that and also microcosmic and totally tied to the moment we’re in. Belief is foundational, and also structural. It’s the building-block of a growing hope; and this occurs amidst the pragmatic things of the everyday. The “ancients” who believed gave their testimony not by esoteric etherealisms; they believed concretely in the constant, the now, the ever-present Today realities of God. You see, to have a constant unchanging place of recourse is not to regress: in fact, not to call constantly upon this One is to attempt to live life without Life. And if Jesus wasn’t bluffing when He referred to Himself as “the Way, the truth, the life,” then there’s no place where this recourse is not applicable. Moving through life, we may move with Him: the Way. Seeking the higher, deeper wisdoms and truths available, He makes these plain: the Truth Himself. Desiring that our everyday may find its richest, realest meaning, we may look to Him: Life. On the northwest shore of the Sea of Galilee stands a little town that is currently going about the normalcies of a normal mid-morning. The sun has long been up—it is climbing higher and higher over the opposite shoreline’s hills, out over the water—and it is starting to feel like the day will be quite warm. Shall you and I go on a little stroll together?
We’ll start at the water’s edge, looking east, looking out over the sea, enjoying the sparkling sunlight on the water’s surface, ruffled by a west wind. The beach along this stretch is pebbly; crunchy underfoot. To both sides of you are Capernaum’s native fishing fleet: the hulls of the boats all exposed, having been dragged up after the nighttime’s long work. The boats and nets are drying out nicely in the warm sunlight. Turning around, you begin to walk up the harbor-path toward the town—which isn’t much of a town—a mixture of homes built with earth-colored clay; some with white plaster. The sounds you hear are as follows: the squawking of the seagulls behind you at the beach; the breath of the wind through the trees and bushes; the sound of children at the village school; and the voices in Capernaum’s small market square. Let’s go up there. Again, it’s not much of a market—nothing as grand as you’d find down at Tiberias—but it has everything you’d need for the living of small, village life. You are passing past the seaside edge of the town, which squeezes narrowly between two buildings—the synagogue and the tax-collector’s offices—and now the view opens up to this central market. All around are the tables of the sellers, offering their wares. To your left are all the fishermen, or their appointed vendors; the smell of fish is strong as the morning heats up the last remains of the catch. Past them is the village butcher; then a series of booths operated by farmers from the surrounding countryside; then a baker; then a section reserved for a group of women who sell their handiworks. Shoppers are walking stall to stall, inspecting the goods. There is the general noise of question-asking, bargaining, comparing/contrasting. Everything is as you’d expect. Except, What’s this? Over there. Behind the back of the furthest stalls. A small group of men, following in the wake of one particular Man. Strangers. Travelers. The Man who leads is… strangely arresting. There is that something about Him which grabs the attention. He has a smile on His lips; He carries Himself with a certain confidence; He seems delighted and amused by everything He sees, looking around. Now you watch as He takes off His heavier outer cloak and hands it to one of His friends. His tunic, underneath, is plain; simple. He winds His way through the tables that ring the market and takes up a central position in the square. For some reason, others have started to notice Him too. He stands for a moment very still. He is watching all the people; they, in turn, are watching Him. Then, still smiling, He begins to speak with a loud sure voice; Capernaum’s entire market square is now listening. “Repent!” He says. “For the Kingdom of Heaven has arrived. The time has come. Believe the good news!” From the heart of Jesus to His follower: "I am the way, the truth and the life. Without the way there is no going; without the truth there is no knowing; without the life there is no living. I am the way that you should follow, the truth that you should believe, the life that you should hope for. I am the inviolable way, the infallible truth, the indestructible life. I am the straightest way, the sovereign truth, the authentic life, bless'd and eternal." Thomas à Kempis
The Imitation of Christ Book III, Ch. 56 “If there is anything in us, it is not our own; it is a gift of God. But if it is a gift of God, then it is entirely a debt one owes to love, that is, to the law of Christ. And if it is a debt owed to love, then I must serve others with it, not myself. “Thus my learning is not my own; it belongs to the unlearned and is the debt I owe them... My wisdom belongs to the foolish, my power to the oppressed. Thus my wealth belongs to the poor, my righteousness to the sinners... “It is with all these qualities that we must stand before God and intervene on behalf of those who do not have them, as though clothed with someone else's garment... But even before men we must, with the same love, render them service against their detractors and those who are violent toward them; for this is what Christ did for us.” Martin Luther
"Lectures on Galatians" “Let no one mourn that he has fallen again and again: for forgiveness has risen from the grave!” John Chrysostom 4th Century, A.D. * * * * He does not deal with us according to our sins,
nor repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him; as far as the east is from the west, so far does he remove our transgressions from us. As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust. (Psalm 103:10-14) "To you whom I love I say, let us go on loving one another, for love comes from God. Every man who truly loves is God’s son and has some knowledge of him. But the man who does not love cannot know him at all, for God is love. "To us, the greatest demonstration of God’s love for us has been his sending his only Son into the world to give us life through him. We see real love, not in the fact that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to make personal atonement for our sins. "If God loved us as much as that, surely we, in our turn, should love each other!" (1 John 4:7-11, Phillips) * * * * "The genius of Christianity is to have proclaimed that the path to the deepest mystery is the path of love." André Malraux
Anti-Memoirs "Jesus of Nazareth is the invisible God's authorized exegete and exegesis, God's authorized self-interpretation and self-explanation. As we know, a biography is the story of the life of a person by another person; an autobiography, on the other hand, is a person's self-explanation and self-interpretation. Jesus, the eternal Word of God in the flesh, is God's Autobiography. We would love to know what God is and who God is and what God thinks, wants, does, and is like. Jesus explains. 'God the Only Son' exegetes." Dale Bruner
The Gospel of John: A Commentary “He makes Himself known to those who, after doing all that their powers will allow, confess that they need help from Him.” Origen 185-253 A.D. * * * * “Come to me, all of you who are weary and over-burdened, and I will give you rest! Put on my yoke and learn from me. For I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, Phillips)
"The inward turning to Him is easy, natural and effortless, because He is at your centre. He is drawing you." "O Divine Shepherd! Thou feedest Thy sheep with Thine own hand, and Thou art their food from day to day." Mme Guyon * * * "I am the good shepherd, and I know those that are mine and my sheep know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I am giving my life for the sake of the sheep.
“And I have other sheep who do not belong to this fold. I must lead these also, and they will hear my voice. So there will be one flock and one shepherd. This is the reason why the Father loves me—that I lay down my life, and I lay it down to take it up again! No one is taking it from me, but I lay it down of my own free will." (John 10:14-18a) Imagine you’re sitting in a roadside pub, having an inexpensive cup of some rather foul wine, and you’re not thinking about anything in particular. Around you are the sounds, sights and smells of such a place: the swearing, the dirty jokes, the unkempt-looking and -smelling sorts of people who spend time in this sort of place.
Why are you here? Because, having traveled south to see the baptizer-teacher down at the Jordan—having not been particularly impressed by the weirdness of the experience of that man—you are waiting for your brother, Andrew (who has lagged behind to talk with the baptizer), in order to travel back to the Galilee and get back to work on your fishing boats. You are sitting here, in this roadside pub, thinking of nothing really at all, when the door opens—the light flooding in—and in comes your brother, just now. There is a very strange look in the look of his eyes. He approaches in the half-darkness of the pub and grips you by both shoulders. “I have met the Messiah,” he says, “the Anointed of God!” You take a deep breath in—let it out. “Where?” you ask. “He is sitting under a tree outside,” Andrew says. “The baptizer?” “No,” Andrew replies. “God.” You wait for him to say something else. He just stares at you. “God is sitting outside under a tree?” Andrew nods. “Outside? Under a tree?” He nods again. “Alright,” you say. “Let’s go have a look.” You pay off your tab and then wind your way through the half-light, following after your brother, out through the day-drinkers of this roadside pub. The outside light is blinding for a moment. You follow after Andrew down the road to the left; then across a narrow path across a field—there is a short stubby tree in the middle-distance. In its shade is another man of the Galilee—the younger brother of James of Zebedee—and then, for the first time, you see the Man your brother was talking about. He is rising to His feet to meet you in the shade, there. His eyes are sparkling with the warmest kind of affection. He steps out of the shade—the sunlight lights His features—He extends His hands toward you—all warmth, all kindness, all joyfulness—and then (quite surprisingly) He embraces you, kisses you on the cheek. He is whispering in your ear as He does so: “Everyone calls you Simon, but I won’t. For me, you will always be Peter—Petros—a rock.” You take a step back and away from the intensity of this Man. The look in His eyes is ageless; all-consuming; eternal. You are both awed and slightly afraid of the look in His eyes. This encounter with Him is the beginning of the rest of your life… Decades later, imagine that man—now an old man—sitting down to a bare-topped table and taking up his writing quill. He is again thinking of that day—of the way it felt to make the acquaintance of God incarnate—and he smiles to himself and then writes this: Simon PETER, a servant and messenger of Jesus Christ, sends this letter to those who have been given a faith as valuable as ours in the righteousness of our God, and Saviour Jesus Christ. May you know more and more of grace and peace as your knowledge of God and Jesus our Lord grows deeper. He has by his own action given us everything that is necessary for living the truly good life, in allowing us to know the one who has called us to him, through his own glorious goodness. It is through him that God’s greatest and most precious promises have become available to us men, making it possible for you to escape the inevitable disintegration that lust produces in the world and to share in God’s essential nature. "We must form our estimate of men less from their achievements and failures, and more from their sufferings. The only profitable relationship to others - and especially to our weaker brethren - is one of love, that is the will to hold fellowship with them. Even God did not despise humanity, but became Man for man's sake." Dietrich Bonhoeffer Letters & Papers from Prison * * * * Seeing that we have a great High Priest who has entered the inmost Heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to our faith. For we have no superhuman High Priest to whom our weaknesses are unintelligible—he himself has shared fully in all our experience of temptation, except that he never sinned. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with fullest confidence, that we may receive mercy for our failures and grace to help in the hour of need. (Hebrews 4:14-16, Phillips)
"Oh what great thanks am I bound to give Thee, who hast vouchsafed to show me and all faithful people the good and right way to Thine eternal kingdom, for Thy way is our way, and by holy patience we walk to Thee who art our Crown. If Thou hadst not gone before and taught us, who would care to follow? Oh, how far would they have gone backward if they had not beheld Thy glorious example! Behold we are still lukewarm, though we have heard of Thy many signs and discourses; what would become of us if we had not such a light to help us follow Thee?" Thomas à Kempis
The Imitation of Christ “It is absolutely necessary for us to recapture the sense that this limited human life is surrounded and interpenetrated by a timeless spiritual dimension. Christ spoke unequivocally about ‘coming from’ the Father, and ‘going to’ the Father. It was said of him that ‘he went about doing good and healing all manner of sickness and disease among the people.’ He claimed that the work which he did, whether it was the healing of body, mind or soul was the work of God himself. Yet at the same time he stated quite definitely that his ‘Kingdom is not of this world.’ In other words, while he operated within the time-and-space situation, and neither despised nor detached himself from actual human living, he lived in continual awareness of what, for want of a better word, we call ‘eternity.’… “It is those who know God to be eternal who most satisfactorily prove that God is their contemporary.” J.B. Phillips
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