Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Oct. 26

I recall a year ago at this very time, sitting in my Volvo station wagon under the turning leaves of Centennial Park. I had a piece of paper pressed firmly against the stirring wheel, trying to poetically articulate why I love this season so much. I left the park that day speechless and with a crumbled piece of paper with scribbled writings that were probably illegible. A year later, I am still unable to put words of worth to the spiritual significance of Autumn.

Perhaps it's because I feel most identified with nature and most in tune with his heart when I see that I am not the only being in His creation that is constantly changing, dying, blooming, thriving..... Maybe I find solace in knowing that the nature around me is dying, only to have life again, and am no longer struck with loneliness. It's like listening to a song and upon hearing the chorus you say to yourself, "I know exactly how he felt when he wrote that", and even more, seeing that the friends in the car with you are singing along with just as much passion.

It's also most obvious in the fall that death, while sometimes harsh and painful, is a glorious and beautiful process. I am unfinished, but most importantly, I am in a cyclical process and am not alone. I am not the greatest version of myself but I can hold fast to the willingness to be reformable. Autumn is a season of relief in the fact that death is essential to life in the Kingdom.

As I read this post, these few poorly-expressed thoughts are not worthy of it's subject. But it's an attempt.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

The Burden of the Gospel

I just encountered this passage in my Grandfather's copy of The Knowledge of the Holy by A.W. Tozer. Tozer explains the contents of my heart that are far beyond my ability to articulate:

The man who comes to a right belief about God is relieved of ten thousand temporal problems, for he sees at once that these have to do with matters which at the most cannot concern him for very long; but even if the multiple burdens of time may be lifted from him, the one mighty single burden of eternity begins to press down upon him with a weight more crushing than all the woes of the world piled one upon another. That mighty burden is his obligation to God. It includes an instant and lifelong duty to love God with every power of mind and soul, to obey Him perfectly, and to worship Him acceptably. And when the man's laboring concience tells him that he has done none of these things, but has from childhood been guilty of foul revolt against the Majesty in the heavens, the inner pressure of self-accusation may become too heavy to bear.
The gospel can lift this destroying burden from the mind, give beauty for ashes, and the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness. But unless the weight of the burden is felt the gospel can mean nothing to the man; and until he sees a vision of God high and lifted up, there will be no woe and no burden. Low views of God destroy the gospel for all who hold them.

The Knowledge of the Holy,
A.W. Tozer