Next on the list is "Not a Tame Lion" by Terry Glaspey. It is about the life, thoughts and legacy of C.S. Lewis.
As a boy Lewis experienced pain and grief through the death of his beloved mother and later in the horrifying tragedies of World War I. At that point he turned his back on God and it was many years before he grudgingly admitted faith into his life once more. At last, after long, earnest debates and discussions with his close friends, J.R.R. Tolkein and Hugo Dyson he came to belief and trust in Christ. In the years following his conversion he passionately defended Christianity and became one of the greatest Christian apologists of the 20th century.
Much later in his life he met Joy Davidson Gresham and began a friendly correspondence with her. After going through a painful divorce and stranded with her two boys Joy found that her passport was running out and she must return to America...or marry an Englishman. Lewis, out of compassion married her in a civil ceremony so she could remain in the country. Soon afterward she was diagnosed with a terminal cancer and was given mere weeks to live. At last, C.S. Lewis discovered his own love for the woman and wished their marriage to be acknowledged by the church so he brought in a priest and they were married by her hospital bed. He took her home to die in his lovely estate called "the Kilns." Miraculously, Joy went into remission and the couple spent three happy years together before her cancer came back and claimed her life. The grief Lewis went through at this time was truly deep, emotional pain, yet of a different kind than his earlier grief for his mother. The one had driven him away from God, the other drove Him straight into the arms of his Heavenly Father. His book, "A Grief Observed" deals intimately with the struggles he went through at the time and how he dealt with the problems of grief and sorrow.
C. S. Lewis wrote many, many books on all sorts of topics, mostly theological, yet his style was readable, understandable, enjoyable, humorous and pithy. He is perhaps best known for writing the "Chronicles of Narnia," a series of allegorical fiction, and "Mere Christianity," quite literally a discussion on what it means to be a Christian.
Personally, growing up reading or listening to the "Chronicles of Narnia," I fell in love with the story, the majesty and holiness of the great Lion Aslan and then discovered in Christianity the same wonderful, awesome (in the truest sense of the word), glorious Character. At first it was the action and adventure of the stories that appealed to me and the more confusing 'theological' books (like "The Last Battle") were less interesting, but now, Lewis' brilliant illustration of Heaven in "The Last Battle" brings tears of joy and longing to my eyes and I eagerly await the day when we will all run together up the bright green slopes, charge up sparkling waterfalls, tumble down steep, mossy embankments, pick ourselves back up laughing and unhurt to follow the cry "Further up and further in!"
"The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning...All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story, which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before."
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Context is Everything
Hello readers! I decided that my next few Blogs will be about books I’ve been reading. My book list of late has grown larger and my time to read grown less, but I’m still plugging away, one chapter at a time whenever I can spare a minute. Hope you enjoy!
First and foremost: Kings. In my Bible I’ve been reading through the book of Kings and boy were there some bad ones in the mix! At first I thought...”ok, what’s the point of reading about all these guys? How does that help me in my Christian walk or further my faith?” In the movie Collisions Doug Wilson at one point speaks about reading the Bible in context; reading the poetry books as poetry, prophetic books as prophecy, history books as history. All at once, it made sense. I needed to stop reading Kings expecting a doctrinal treatise and instead read it as I would any other History. Although to many people history is just a bunch of old dead guys, it can really be a useful tool in life. One of the best reasons for knowing your history is in order to learn from its mistakes. You can bet those Israelite kings made lots of mistakes, but it is fascinating to see God’s hand working through it and playing out His story of love and redemption. It is the same story He is writing now in my life...and yours. One of the primary purposes of these stories is so that we know how to live our own lives; imitating those who behaved righteously and being warned away from evil. Next time you find yourself slogging through some of the duller portions of Scripture and wondering how God is going to use it in your life, try thinking about it in context and perhaps it will make more sense.
First and foremost: Kings. In my Bible I’ve been reading through the book of Kings and boy were there some bad ones in the mix! At first I thought...”ok, what’s the point of reading about all these guys? How does that help me in my Christian walk or further my faith?” In the movie Collisions Doug Wilson at one point speaks about reading the Bible in context; reading the poetry books as poetry, prophetic books as prophecy, history books as history. All at once, it made sense. I needed to stop reading Kings expecting a doctrinal treatise and instead read it as I would any other History. Although to many people history is just a bunch of old dead guys, it can really be a useful tool in life. One of the best reasons for knowing your history is in order to learn from its mistakes. You can bet those Israelite kings made lots of mistakes, but it is fascinating to see God’s hand working through it and playing out His story of love and redemption. It is the same story He is writing now in my life...and yours. One of the primary purposes of these stories is so that we know how to live our own lives; imitating those who behaved righteously and being warned away from evil. Next time you find yourself slogging through some of the duller portions of Scripture and wondering how God is going to use it in your life, try thinking about it in context and perhaps it will make more sense.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Giving Thanks
Ok! I'm now officially a blogger...but instead of starting off with something new and original I'm going to be lame and use an essay I've been polishing up for my Senior Thesis class. Hope you enjoy!
“Teach us to number our days that we may present to you a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12). Sometimes it takes a major wake-up call to remind us of this principle. As a child, I was blissfully unaware of sadness or suffering. Death was only something that happened on the screen or in far off places. When everything is going well, it is only too easy to take life for granted. How true this was for my family during the summer of 2008. My parents had just been blessed with a baby girl and we were all enjoying the liveliness of our little two year old Andrew. Little did we realize just how quickly life can be snuffed out or how soon our faith would be tried through a nearly tragic accident.
Every year our church has a “Day of Rest;” a relaxing day of singing, preaching, feasting and fellowship at a cabin on the Imnaha River. The Imnaha cabin is 45 minutes away from any large town, any grocery store, or any hospital. On that eventful morning we had a glorious time of fellowship and rest. The subject of the sermon was trusting God during times of trial; a concept that seemed foreign in the idyllic, tranquil setting. However, it was not long before our own confidence and trust were set adrift in an ocean of doubt. Through a frightening accident-turned-miracle we were taught to number our days, trust in God, and give thanks.
Little knowing how our faith would be tested in the hours ahead we listened to the sermon emphasizing the need to strengthen our faith and “number our days.” Psalm 90 verse 12, the text, brought out the necessity to give God a heart of wisdom and be faithful during trials. Throughout our own trials later in the afternoon, this verse was unforgettably emblazoned on our minds. Before the day was over we had all been given a chance to live out its admonition and consider the frailty and brevity of life.
Later in the day, people lazed around, picking cherries, fishing, eating, swimming. As the afternoon wore on, people began leaving and a mere handful remained to clean up. Andrew, an exceptionally active and rambunctious toddler, did not adjust well to the slow tempo of the afternoon and before long attracted trouble. Under the supervision of my mother he again and again threatened her patience and wore her out.
At last came the moment he was looking for. Her eyes were momentarily engaged elsewhere and he took advantage of that instant to make his escape. Immediately, Andrew headed for the fast-moving river where he had earlier seen many older kids playing, splashing and jumping in the water. The moment my mother discovered that her son had disappeared, she floundered about, frantically searching for him and calling his name. By pure providence one man remained fishing at the river’s edge. As Andrew’s tiny form came hurtling past tossing and tumbling like a leaf in an autumn wind, Mr. Ellis spotted him and called out for help.
Suddenly the serenity and stillness of the day was broken like a wave against a rock as everyone dashed towards the river en masse. All at once two of the remaining men sprinted ahead to the water’s edge. Seeming to walk on water in their haste, they reached Andrew and pulled his blue figure from the water. Time stood still. In the stillness, we heard Andrew cry and knew that he was alive. There were many tears, there was joy, there was fear, there was hope. But the danger was not over yet. Due to his cold, blueish skin and sleepiness, we decided that it would be best to take him to the hospital.
During the long drive to the hospital that followed, prayer upon prayer was poured out begging and pleading with the God of mercy to have compassion. Despite our fears and doubts somehow every one of us reached a point where there was no other alternative but trusting God.
Each of us quietly bridged the gap of uncertainty and discovered peace like a tidal wave overwhelming and enveloping us. Throughout that car ride we were taught to pray as never before and to trust that the God of all the universe would do right.
By the time we reached the hospital, Andrew was pretty much back to his own active and mischievous self. The doctors, after examining him, discovered no water in his lungs which they explained was in itself a miracle. Relief flooded our senses. Gratitude poured over us and filled us to overflowing. Finally, our family surrounded the hospital bed crying, laughing, rejoicing, and praising God for his mercy which imparted peace and comfort to us like a lighthouse beacon to a ship lost at sea. Our secure little world was shaken that day, and I still tremble to think how easily it could have turned out differently. The day taught us many things; most importantly, to give thanks.
Sometimes God uses frightening events to grab our attention. He used this accident to teach our entire community about the awesomeness of His power and the vastness of his mercy. As the scene unfolded we were forced to trust Him. The reality of death and the transience of life were acknowledged to a greater extent as we began to number our days. At last, we were brought to our knees in thankfulness to God for His great compassion. Long afterward, merely the sight of Andrew brought tears to our eyes and a prayer of gratitude to our lips.
“Teach us to number our days that we may present to you a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12). Sometimes it takes a major wake-up call to remind us of this principle. As a child, I was blissfully unaware of sadness or suffering. Death was only something that happened on the screen or in far off places. When everything is going well, it is only too easy to take life for granted. How true this was for my family during the summer of 2008. My parents had just been blessed with a baby girl and we were all enjoying the liveliness of our little two year old Andrew. Little did we realize just how quickly life can be snuffed out or how soon our faith would be tried through a nearly tragic accident.
Every year our church has a “Day of Rest;” a relaxing day of singing, preaching, feasting and fellowship at a cabin on the Imnaha River. The Imnaha cabin is 45 minutes away from any large town, any grocery store, or any hospital. On that eventful morning we had a glorious time of fellowship and rest. The subject of the sermon was trusting God during times of trial; a concept that seemed foreign in the idyllic, tranquil setting. However, it was not long before our own confidence and trust were set adrift in an ocean of doubt. Through a frightening accident-turned-miracle we were taught to number our days, trust in God, and give thanks.
Little knowing how our faith would be tested in the hours ahead we listened to the sermon emphasizing the need to strengthen our faith and “number our days.” Psalm 90 verse 12, the text, brought out the necessity to give God a heart of wisdom and be faithful during trials. Throughout our own trials later in the afternoon, this verse was unforgettably emblazoned on our minds. Before the day was over we had all been given a chance to live out its admonition and consider the frailty and brevity of life.
Later in the day, people lazed around, picking cherries, fishing, eating, swimming. As the afternoon wore on, people began leaving and a mere handful remained to clean up. Andrew, an exceptionally active and rambunctious toddler, did not adjust well to the slow tempo of the afternoon and before long attracted trouble. Under the supervision of my mother he again and again threatened her patience and wore her out.
At last came the moment he was looking for. Her eyes were momentarily engaged elsewhere and he took advantage of that instant to make his escape. Immediately, Andrew headed for the fast-moving river where he had earlier seen many older kids playing, splashing and jumping in the water. The moment my mother discovered that her son had disappeared, she floundered about, frantically searching for him and calling his name. By pure providence one man remained fishing at the river’s edge. As Andrew’s tiny form came hurtling past tossing and tumbling like a leaf in an autumn wind, Mr. Ellis spotted him and called out for help.
Suddenly the serenity and stillness of the day was broken like a wave against a rock as everyone dashed towards the river en masse. All at once two of the remaining men sprinted ahead to the water’s edge. Seeming to walk on water in their haste, they reached Andrew and pulled his blue figure from the water. Time stood still. In the stillness, we heard Andrew cry and knew that he was alive. There were many tears, there was joy, there was fear, there was hope. But the danger was not over yet. Due to his cold, blueish skin and sleepiness, we decided that it would be best to take him to the hospital.
During the long drive to the hospital that followed, prayer upon prayer was poured out begging and pleading with the God of mercy to have compassion. Despite our fears and doubts somehow every one of us reached a point where there was no other alternative but trusting God.
Each of us quietly bridged the gap of uncertainty and discovered peace like a tidal wave overwhelming and enveloping us. Throughout that car ride we were taught to pray as never before and to trust that the God of all the universe would do right.
By the time we reached the hospital, Andrew was pretty much back to his own active and mischievous self. The doctors, after examining him, discovered no water in his lungs which they explained was in itself a miracle. Relief flooded our senses. Gratitude poured over us and filled us to overflowing. Finally, our family surrounded the hospital bed crying, laughing, rejoicing, and praising God for his mercy which imparted peace and comfort to us like a lighthouse beacon to a ship lost at sea. Our secure little world was shaken that day, and I still tremble to think how easily it could have turned out differently. The day taught us many things; most importantly, to give thanks.
Sometimes God uses frightening events to grab our attention. He used this accident to teach our entire community about the awesomeness of His power and the vastness of his mercy. As the scene unfolded we were forced to trust Him. The reality of death and the transience of life were acknowledged to a greater extent as we began to number our days. At last, we were brought to our knees in thankfulness to God for His great compassion. Long afterward, merely the sight of Andrew brought tears to our eyes and a prayer of gratitude to our lips.
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