Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.

-- R. Burns Epistle to a Young Friend

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

King of the Wild Frontier

Righteousness and justice are the foundation of your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before you. -- Psalm 89:14

I confess that I sometimes want to accuse God of being unfair, perhaps even fickle.  We who do what we are supposed to do – more or less, don’t always seem to get what we think we deserve.  It’s a recurring theme with me.  Sometimes, though, the light is on, and I understand that I would not know what fairness, justice, goodness, or even love is if He had not shown it to me.  John, writing in the letter we call his first, says, “We love because he first loved us.” 

We can love because He loves us.

I don’t know that I will stop complaining entirely about evil and stupidity and injustice that happens.  I won’t stop crying over tragedies.  Losses will still cause me some anguish, but it is because I know it doesn’t have to be so bad.  I know I don’t have to be so bad.  The Lord established Himself as the Creator, Sustainer and Ruler of all that exists by laying a foundation of righteousness and justice.  Everything is built on what is good and true. 

It gets pretty weird out here in the fringes where I have to operate.  Maybe that’s why I have the soul of a pilgrim.  Or a frontiersman.  That might be more like it.  We are pioneers, always pushing the frontier of the kingdom out just a little further. 

So there is the Light.  The power of the Light is infinite and all-pervasive, but there are always shadows and corners and cul-de-sacs where the Light needs to bend.  Instead, the Lord sends in receivers.  They get charged up full, and He throws them down some dark shaft, some long, dark corridor.  The Bible says that Moses did not know that his face shone with the glory of God’s presence.  All he knew was that everybody was freaking out, afraid to look at him, and he didn’t need a lantern in the outhouse. 

Our mission is to bear the Light, our little portion of it, into all the places where we might have to go.  I’ve been on a cave tour when they turn out all the lights.  Turn on single keychain light in that situation, and it seems like a flood light.  The darker and deeper the hole you are in, the brighter your light will appear to those around you. 


julie said...

The darker and deeper the hole you are in, the brighter your light will appear to those around you.

Both reassuring, and alarming. When you know all you have is a dinky little penlight and it has that much effect, you are in an awfully dark place...

This also ties in to a thought I had the other night while sitting out on my patio. Even with the outside lights off, the lights inside the house will seem pretty bright; they make it difficult to see into the darker places. But if we were out in the field, we'd be able to see into the light pretty with quite easily. It all depends on where you are and which way you are looking.

mushroom said...

That's why I had a switch put in on my security light. I turn it off to see more stars.

Don Johnson said...

Maybe that's why the Milky Way seems so bright out here sometimes. Living in a dark place has its benefits.

Oh. That's not what you meant. :-)