Photo: Sunset over the Purcells from my deck this evening
From the rising of the sun to its going down
The Lord’s name is to be praised. (Psalm 113:3)
Photo: Sunset over the Purcells from my deck this evening
From the rising of the sun to its going down
The Lord’s name is to be praised. (Psalm 113:3)
Photo: from my deck
It’s too hot to sleep so I got up and edited some photos I took from my deck yesterday. The music playing on my earphones is from The Odes Project which are modern settings of the oldest hymns we have found. They were written in Aramaic around 100 A.D. by someone who was known only as Solomon -perhaps an Essene convert to Christianity. I love this album. Tonight Ode 8 struck me as particularly fitting for this picture. As someone who has been healed after many years of severe depression I praise Abba Father for raising me up from the pit of despair and putting a new song in my mouth. God has been so very good to me.
These are the lyrics to the adapted version:
You who sometimes were brought so low, Rise up, RISE UP
You who were in silence: now raise your voice , Rise up, RISE UP
You that were despised be lifted up, Rise up, RISE UP
For the right hand of the Lord is with you right now Rise up, RISE UP
Open your hearts, All you who are saved, IN THE NAME OF THE FATHER
Through all generations, abiding in His love, IN THE NAME OF THE SON
Now and forever, Let your love abound, IN THE NAME OF THE SPIRIT
For the right hand of the Lord is with you right now Rise up, RISE UP
Chorus:
Christ in us, this wondrous mystery
Christ in us, from age to age
Christ in us, the hope of glory
For You have sealed us in your name
You who sometimes were brought so low, stand tall, RISE UP
You who were in silence: may you shout for joy, RISE UP
You who were despised may you be lifted up, RISE UP
For the right hand of the Lord is with you right now Rise up, RISE UP
This is a translation of the longer hymn:
Open, open your hearts to the exultation of the Lord, and let your love abound
from the heart to the lips.
In order to bring forth fruits to the Lord, a holy life; and to talk with watchfulness in His light.
Rise up and stand erect, you who sometimes were brought low.
You who were in silence, speak, for your mouth has been opened.
You who were despised, from henceforth be lifted up, for your Righteousness has been lifted up;
For the right hand of the Lord is with you, and He will be your Helper.
And peace was prepared for you, before what may be your war.
Hear the word of truth, and receive the knowledge of the Most High.
Your flesh may not understand that which I am about to say to you; nor your garment that which I am about to show
you.
Keep my mystery, you who are kept by it; keep my faith, you who are kept by it.
And understand my knowledge, you who know me in truth; love me with affection, you who love;
For I turn not my face from my own, because I know them.
And before they had existed, I recognized them; and imprinted a seal on their faces.
I fashioned their members, and my own breasts I prepared for them, that they
might drink my holy milk and live by it.
I am pleased by them, and am not ashamed by them.
For my workmanship are they, and the strength of my thoughts.
Therefore who can stand against my work? Or who is not subject to them?
I willed and fashioned mind and heart, and they are my own. And upon my right
hand I have set my elect ones.
And my righteousness goes before them, and they shall not be deprived of my
name; for it is with them.
Pray and increase, and abide in the love of the Lord;
And you who were loved in the Beloved, and you who are kept in Him who lives,
and you who are saved in Him who was saved.
And you shall be found incorrupt in all ages, on account of the name of your
Father.
Hallelujah.
I will extol you, my God and King,
and bless your name forever and ever.
Every day I will bless you
and praise your name forever and ever.
Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised,
and his greatness is unsearchable.
One generation shall commend your works to another,
and shall declare your mighty acts.
On the glorious splendor of your majesty,
and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.
They shall speak of the might of your awesome deeds,
and I will declare your greatness.
They shall pour forth the fame of your abundant goodness
and shall sing aloud of your righteousness.
(Psalm 145)
The yarrow has spread like crazy in my garden. It’s an ancient plant known for its ability to help stop bleeding. Achilles carried it into battle for his soldiers. That’s why it’s called achillea and also soldierswort.
In some wars, the battle plan involved maiming as many warriors as possible because caring for the wounded reduced the number of men available to fight. That was before warfare meant dropping bombs on children, before fighting for justice became fighting for personal peace alone and every man for himself became a default position. It was before fear became the commander-in-chief.
I watched a documentary about the War of 1812 in North America this week. The fort in Detroit fell without defending itself because the commander assigned to guard it was terrified of aboriginal Americans. He didn’t realize Tecumseh marched the same group of war-whooping men past his viewpoint five times. After cowering in his room, the guy who was supposed to lead the fight gave up without a fight. He lost the battle in his mind long before any foes showed up.
Since Jesus Christ rose from the dead after teaching his disciples to pray, “Your kingdom come. Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven,” the battle against the father of lies has been over. Christ has already won the victory. The enemy is defeated. Now its a matter of taking back occupied territory and restoring what has been stolen or destroyed. The weapons of this fight are not guns and bombs or fists or even tough negotiation. God’s weapons tear down lies that have kept souls prisoners of fear, those behind prison walls of despair, bereft of hope that healing or change is possible. The greatest battles take place in our minds.
I learned that another battle in the War of 1812 totally failed when troops became confused and started firing on each other. Sometimes people who mean well don’t listen well. In blind panic they start shooting their own. Sometimes, forgetting to ask God for more effective spiritual weapons or better strategies, soldiers leave the wounded behind. There are also those who pick up the weapons of the world and shoot hostages, rather than rescue them. Not-so-friendly-fire.
I wonder if there are more souls wounded by factious denominational tribalism who are crying out for help than ever before. Instead of stopping to care for them, other frightened troops are embarrassed by them. I’ve even heard “experts” say that some of the church-burnt and those wounded in the fight who are bleeding and acting out in pain, ought to be shunned to teach them a lesson. They question if they were ever really on “our side” anyway.
I wonder if most of the “mission field” in the Western world is made up of the casualties of spiritual abuse. Where the spiritual medics? Where are the healers carrying metaphorical yarrow of kindness and goodness to staunch the flow of blood?
Even winners can be wounded in the fight.
Two seemingly disconnected things caught my attention this week. Yarrow is a pretty flower in my garden. The War of 1812 was another of thousands of fruitless, selfish, pointless human skirmishes that accomplished nothing of lasting value. (The Americans captured Toronto, but the Canadians burned Washington, so in the end they simply traded them back.) but maybe we can still learn something from both of them.
Photo: Campground
I’ve driven right past this campground for years and never noticed it was there until I was so drowsy one day I pulled off the road to take a nap. It was hidden in plain sight. I took this photo from an empty camping spot. There was no one else in the park but maintenance people that day. I love this place. The smells are wonderful and the mountains feel like giant guardian angels keeping out the riff-raff. Apparently angels like camping too 😉
I sought the Lord, and he answered me
and delivered me from all my fears.
Those who look to him are radiant,
and their faces shall never be ashamed.
This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him
and saved him out of all his troubles.
The angel of the Lord encamps
around those who fear him, and delivers them.
(Psalm 34:4-7)
This is also a prayer and declaration for friends on the other side of the world who face severe persecution this very night. He hears you.
Photo: ceramic dome
(Inspired by a Learning Channel video about a Canadian surgeon who taught brain surgery to doctors in a tiny Russian clinic. The patient was required to be conscious in order to participate in the procedure.)
You May Feel Some Discomfort
Perhaps I had my eyes closed when your assistants bashed
my horizontal chariot through the swinging doors.
I didn’t see that sign.
Just as well.
If I had known
the surgery you intended to perform
(removing the run-away tumour of mal-formed thought)
required me to be awake for the procedure
I may have searched for an alternate practitioner,
one who would anesthetize me
with framed platitudes hung beside
hand-penned personal testimonies
of painless probes
and joyful function (temporarily) restored.
I would have,
at least,
googled the back pages of ancient pdf-ed medical knowledge,
or youtubed reports of accidental new age discovery,
or followed the links to a parallel universe of pharmacos deliverance.
I confess to some disrespectful misuse of your name
when the raucous drill began its breakthrough,
(can you really buy those at Walmart?)
but once my thoughts lay open before you
I merely concentrated on
raising my arm
and opening my hand.
Thanks for letting me rest
as you reassembled my humbled dome
(and for being careful to leave room for expansion).
There.
Done.
Invader gone.
Mind renewal.
Thank you, God.
You’re good.
Very good.
I tried my hand at my version of vintage-style photography this week. I like the juxtaposition of something new and fresh encased in a historical frame.
When I was a child I thought the second world war took place in black and white. That idea probably came from watching the old TV show about the war narrated by Walter Cronkhite- the one on Sunday afternoons that started with a big picture of the Rock of Gibraltar. Even as an adult I am surprised when I see photos of the war years in colour.
In a way, I suppose all history is written in black and white. So many colourful nuances are left out of historical accounts. What made masses of regular people believe certain ideas? Why did they choose to make the choices to follow the leaders they did? What made some cultures xenophobic or aggressive or peaceful? Who convinced some that genocide or infant sacrifice or slavery was a good idea? What was going on in the mind of an ordinary woman as she stirred the pottage, or a man as he mended a door hinge?
Historical accounts are rarely accurate, of course, since they are written by the winners and don’t take dissenter’s opinions into account. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian who worked behind the scenes (aka a spy) to bring down a regime he saw as evil, is one example of many who opposed what was happening in his country. Current history writers (the winners) remove his traitor status, but that label hung him on the gallows in his own time.
I was on a jury that heard the testimony of thirty-two people who witnessed the same shooting. Amazingly no two versions were the same. When I read newspaper accounts later I wondered if the reporter and I were at the same trial. His perception of what took place was so different from mine. That month was a dramatic lesson in how people’s minds screened truth. I do believe the majority of witnesses were trying to be factual (although most were seriously drunk at the scene of the crime) but I tended to believe the ones who revealed their own weaknesses, and included details about which way the door opened and not being able to see faces clearly because of back-lighting, rather than the ones who saw themselves as heroes but couldn’t remember if they drove home “after imbibing.”
History, as we are taught it, may not be fully accurate in detail, but it does teach us about patterns and cycles. We are foolish to ignore those patterns. Mark Twain said something like, “History may not repeat itself, but it rhymes.” If the people holed up in David Koresh’ compound in Waco, Texas had known the strikingly similar story of the people holed up in Munster, Westphalia in the 16th century would they have used the same tactics? Would the government sponsored assailants have repeated the same type of seige? Has anyone noticed the pattern in history of proclaiming a group of humans “non-persons” in the process of trying to excuse their annihilation? Historically what has happened when people are fed messages of fear over and over? What has happened when political leaders are more relied upon for safety and provision than God? Why are people surprised when ones they hand power to, expecting them to save us, tend to usurp more power and start acting like gods? (That power corrupts must be one of the most often repeated lessons in history.)
The Bible says to teach your children their history. It includes enough details about the failings and faults of so many characters to make it quite believable to me. Bible heroes were also cowards, adulterers, drunks, thieves, slave masters, perjurers, and power-delusioned wretches like the rest of us. We can learn from them, or we can repeat the same mistakes.
The roses I photographed yesterday will be blown next week. A photo-shopped sepia memory exists, and now that I’ve posted it may be flung out into cyberspace in perpetuity. It’s not exactly how they looked (they were actually softy pink) but they are recognizable as roses –and they have taught me something.