And see all sights from pole to pole,
And glance, and nod, and bustle by;
And never once possess our soul
Before we die.
Matthew Arnold (1822 – 1888)
You probably would have done so yourself. Who wouldn’t have? Indeed,
who wouldn’t have quaked violently when streaming flashes of divine
presence thundered atop that historical mountain? The records say the
Israelites trembled, and begged Moses to appeal to God to withhold his
awful voice or “we will die”. Then there were, before that, the plagues in
Egypt – you know, hail mingled with blood, slimy hideous blotches of toads
disturbing all those Egyptian tea parties and making an amphibian mess of
their cupcakes with their webbed disasters called feet, and, worst, the death
of all firstborns. The parting of the Red Sea quickly followed – chariots
upturned, sand in the eyes, gurgling Egyptian warriors frantically beating
their wearied limbs against disagreeable waves, a look of horror in the
Pharaoh’s drowning eyes as he beholds the object of his hatred, the Israelites
and their blasted leader, staff in hand, hair blowing roughly in the disturbed
and excited winds, on the banks of escape and security, Moses. Then there
was the handwriting on the tablets. Then there was the manna. Years after, a
talking donkey with a rider so obstinate that, well, a talking donkey says it
all! Then Jesus comes. Listen to his words, his cries, his fits of anger and his
poetic compassion for humankind. Now the cross is placed. Blood, wood,
and bad moods define the day. A man admired and wondered at dies. Two
angels refute the expectations of bewildered disciples. He is not dead, he is
risen. The man you seek is not here. Soon, a doubtful finger carefully stretches
itself to touch the semblances of deep wounds on a resurrected Body, a
number of men and women gather in an Upper Room and, in the words of
the amiable physician, a mighty wind blows and all is ‘filled’ with the Holy
Spirit. A movement is born, a mandate energized, a servant stoned, a
philosopher blinded, converted, and employed in the most remarkable sense
of the word. A vision is captured. A revelation of an End and a Beginning – a
glance at singing angels, bloodied skies, opened books, dragons, cherubs,
mysteries and…
What’s the idea? What’s the point of all this then? Surely, if this is history, then
all this must mean something – something vital. I cannot help but believe
that if the Bible is true, then we ought to pay attention to its silent details as
well as its screaming features. The Bible means something, and it means it
much.
To read the next part of this article, click here.
Does Being Good Matter? – Part 1
Posted by davidluiz in Messages
And glance, and nod, and bustle by;
And never once possess our soul
Before we die.
Matthew Arnold (1822 – 1888)
You probably would have done so yourself. Who wouldn’t have? Indeed,
who wouldn’t have quaked violently when streaming flashes of divine
presence thundered atop that historical mountain? The records say the
Israelites trembled, and begged Moses to appeal to God to withhold his
awful voice or “we will die”. Then there were, before that, the plagues in
Egypt – you know, hail mingled with blood, slimy hideous blotches of toads
disturbing all those Egyptian tea parties and making an amphibian mess of
their cupcakes with their webbed disasters called feet, and, worst, the death
of all firstborns. The parting of the Red Sea quickly followed – chariots
upturned, sand in the eyes, gurgling Egyptian warriors frantically beating
their wearied limbs against disagreeable waves, a look of horror in the
Pharaoh’s drowning eyes as he beholds the object of his hatred, the Israelites
and their blasted leader, staff in hand, hair blowing roughly in the disturbed
and excited winds, on the banks of escape and security, Moses. Then there
was the handwriting on the tablets. Then there was the manna. Years after, a
talking donkey with a rider so obstinate that, well, a talking donkey says it
all! Then Jesus comes. Listen to his words, his cries, his fits of anger and his
poetic compassion for humankind. Now the cross is placed. Blood, wood,
and bad moods define the day. A man admired and wondered at dies. Two
angels refute the expectations of bewildered disciples. He is not dead, he is
risen. The man you seek is not here. Soon, a doubtful finger carefully stretches
itself to touch the semblances of deep wounds on a resurrected Body, a
number of men and women gather in an Upper Room and, in the words of
the amiable physician, a mighty wind blows and all is ‘filled’ with the Holy
Spirit. A movement is born, a mandate energized, a servant stoned, a
philosopher blinded, converted, and employed in the most remarkable sense
of the word. A vision is captured. A revelation of an End and a Beginning – a
glance at singing angels, bloodied skies, opened books, dragons, cherubs,
mysteries and…
What’s the idea? What’s the point of all this then? Surely, if this is history, then
all this must mean something – something vital. I cannot help but believe
that if the Bible is true, then we ought to pay attention to its silent details as
well as its screaming features. The Bible means something, and it means it
much.
To read the next part of this article, click here.