A Chant Sublime

A Chant Sublime

Wisdom is often about discovering distinctions.

Many of you liked my post on the distinction between discernment and judgment toward others, and the difference between puzzles and mysteries in regard to God. If you missed it, read here.

So this holiday season, I came across another distinction. Let me explain.

It started when I received a YouTube link from musical artist John Gabriel Arends, performing a not-so-known Christmas carol, “I Heard The Bells.” Hear his version here.

For starters, this song is disarmingly honest. That’s saying something in a Christian culture that says we should be inside-outside-upright-downright happy all the time.

Note the third verse…

I heard the bells on Christmas day, their old familiar carols play,

And wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good will to men.

I thought how, as the day had come, the belfries of all Christendom

Had rolled along the unbroken song of peace on earth, good will to men.

And in despair I bowed my head: “There is no peace on earth,” I said, “

“For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.”

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: “God is not dead, nor doth He sleep.

The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, good will to men.”

Till, ringing singing, on its way, the world revolved from night to day,

A voice, a chime, a chant sublime, of peace on earth, good will to men!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Secondly, consider the context of the writer. Arends said, “I love this song because I believe it brings hope in the day we are living. The original words of this Christmas carol were penned on Christmas Eve 1863 during the Civil War in the United States by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, when he received the news that his son had been severely wounded in battle. On the heels of 40,000 lives being lost in the Battle of Gettysburg, Longfellow grappled with darkness around him.”

Understanding context profoundly alters meaning and impact.

What deep reserves of faith did Longfellow draw from in order to write this song?

And finally, upon rereading the lyrics, I discovered I’d been singing it wrong my whole life!Continue reading

Pause

Pause

Years ago, Nicholas Herman slogged along a snowy trail in the dead of winter. As a weary soldier, he could hardly wait to thaw his frozen feet and eat a bowl of hearty stew. However, while trudging home he came upon a mature fruit tree, stripped bare of its summer beauty.

It gave him pause.

red apple on green leavesGazing at the tree, he considered how the leaves would burst forth with vitality come spring. A flurry of flowers would bloom, bringing color and fragrance. And after lush rains and summer sun, fruit would form.

Like something from nothing, God would provide a bountiful harvest. Suddenly, it all seemed miraculous.

As he stayed in the wonder of those thoughts, God’s presence quietly descended on him, showering glory all around. Who knows how long he remained there. Time had somehow stopped.

d5545757-2c90-4727-80f0-9ec5d0b269c7And in those holy moments, God imprinted something on his soul, which never faded. Released from the mindset of things-as-they-seem, he was captured by a “high view of the providence and power of God.” Later, he told a friend that the experience produced a passion for God in his heart that did not diminish in the forty years that followed.

That young soldier was also known as Brother Lawrence, a kitchen worker for the Carmelite monks in the 1600s. Like a dormant tree in spring, he awoke from an earthly mindset to a heightened heavenly awareness.

He believed an extraordinary God was intimately involved in ordinary life. And that one remarkable truth sparked an ongoing conversation with God that would last the rest of his life.

All because he paused.

Woman with headache, overwhelmed with lifeThe Spirit of God hovers over our busy, distracted, caffeine-charged, multi-tasking days—waiting for us to pause.

But the complexities of modern life demand our constant attention. An ad in the Wall Street Journal for SAP, a multi-national software company, stated that, “Complexity is becoming the most intractable issue of our time, an epidemic of wide-ranging proportions, affecting our lives, our work and even our health. Eight out of ten children today think life is too complicated. A third of working professionals experience health issues as a consequence of stress associated with information overload. And 62% believe their personal relationships are suffering as a direct result of complexity.”

“Complexity comes at an enormous cost,” the ad writer concluded.[i] Of course, SAP is peddling technical resources that promise to simplify. But software, no matter how helpful, is not a balm for our weary souls.

The question is—why don’t we pause? Is there a poverty of soul that we’re afraid to be in the same room with? Do we silence it with the drone of TV?Continue reading

Why God Uses Children

Why God Uses Children

Akiane's angel, drawn when Akiane was four years old

Akiane’s angel, drawn when Akiane was four years old

“Today I met God,” (A four-year-old girl whispered to her mother one morning).

“What is God?” (The atheist mother was stunned.)

“God is light—warm and good. It knows everything and talks with me. It is my parent.”

“Tell me more about your dream.” (The mother felt concerned. To her the word, “God,” sounded absurd and primitive.)

“It was not a dream. It was real!”

“Why did you think it was God?”

“Just like I know you are my mommy, and you know I am Akiane.”[1]

Oprah's favorite Akiane painting, "The Planted Eyes." Painted when Akiane was eight years old.

Oprah’s favorite, “The Planted Eyes,” was painted when Akiane was eight years old.

* * * * *

Akiane was born in a shack in Illinois, into an impoverished Lithuanian family. Her name means “Ocean” in Russian. In her childhood, she became a world-renown artist with paintings that sold for $100,000. Also honored as a celebrated poet, she appeared on Oprah’s show. All this by age ten.

Akiane with her brother

Akiane with her brother

She had no formal art training and was homeschooled. Growing up, her brothers were her only friends. The family didn’t own a TV. Her parents were atheists and never talked about religion. How did she find out?

From God, Himself!

When Akiane was ten, The Museum of Religious Art in Iowa invited her to have an exhibition that her mother later said, “proved to be an unforgettable event.”

Questions from viewers came at her from all directions:

“‘What church do you belong to? What denomination?’ someone from the crowd asked loudly.

‘I belong to God,” Akiane responded.Continue reading