a digital commonplace book
I didn’t get much sleep last night, pondering thoughts that wouldn’t pass muster in Angelology 101: Imagine for a moment the possibility that angels don’t possess our (humans’) imagination…. How odd we might seem to them. We philosophize, rhapsodize, and consistently compromise, imagining all along that thinking counts as doing, believing as obeying.
This is admittedly an odd poem to write on Christmas morning. Let me justify it. Here are some of God’s gifts that affect me deeply:
In case you are wondering…. I DO believe there is such a thing as truth. But we currently possess very little of it. I’m thankful that there is all eternity to explore and learn.
Rather I prize the doubt
from Browning’s “Rabbi Ben Ezra”
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43775/rabbi-ben-ezra
The tone is sarcastic. In my favorite part, the last two stanzas, the “Know-It-Alls” are speaking to those who think there is a world yet to explore. They refer to them as fools, whose ignorance is vast. What satisfying irony that the very thing they criticize is the seed of a superior inheritance.
(on words at the dawn of time)
We speak of people, places, things
And designate them “nouns.”
But when at first they saw the light
We might as well have called them “verbs.”
“Flute,” He said, and flute, she sang.
“Tintinnabulation!”
Silver bells, they rang.
Without the word was nothing made
Of all we see them DO.
In that beginning, words became;
Verbish nouns devoid of shame,
Naked thought, running free!
“Flower!” He said
And just like that
Rose petals filled the land.
They knew that every word He spoke
Implied His kind command.
To be is to become, you see.
The nouns, they know this well.
A wave is not a wave
Unless its waters swell.
And humans are not really human
Unless they’re humans being.
“So what,” you’ll say,
“If nouns obey?
What’s implied for me?”
Nounish you may think yourself.
Verbose you’re meant to be.
In fullness of Imago Dei,
A mystery:
Don’t you see?
You speak,
And so, thereby,
Does HE.
And when thereby
He speaks,
So, thereby
DOES He.
NOTES: I imagine a time — when time began — when nouns were not mere nouns. That was long before anyone thought it necessary or even logical that “actions speak louder than words.” That divorce came later.
What’s implied by the phrase “God IS love?” Indirectly, this poem explores that concept.
March 11, 2019 rumination: On Sunday, I had to do the scripture reading: John 14:8-14. One verse was difficult to read: “10 Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work.” See that odd juxtaposition? “words I say / Father… doing his work.” Reading this, I couldn’t help but think of the odd last two stanzas of my poem. God does/works through the Son’s speaking. In verse twelve Jesus says, “Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father.” Two verses later, Jesus promises, “You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.” The Father’s doing, Jesus’ doing, our doing all get jumbled up. And the doing is related to saying/asking in unusual ways. I HAVE NOT GOTTEN TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS.
The photograph used in the featured image (shown below, but mainly for social media) was taken by Dimitris Vetsikas, of Cyprus. He generously posted the photograph on Pixabay.
It was wet, cold, and windy at the lake today… almost as good as a hike in the mountains.
This is a poem that took its own shape as I wrote… NOT what I set out to write. In the small group materials that Dave Carr and Sten-Erik Armitage prepared for our church, they quoted Alvin Plantinga articulating this striking truth: “The chief difference between Christianity and the other theistic religions lies just here: the God of Christianity is willing to enter into and share the sufferings of his creatures, in order to redeem them and his world. Of course this doesn’t answer the question why does God permit evil? But it helps the Christian trust God as a loving father, no matter what ills befall him.” That’s a truth I need to reflect on more often and more deeply.
When I go for walks in the winter, I’m impressed with little flowers like this one: Buxbaum’s Speedwell. Now THAT’S a flower name for you! Its very name conveys a positive spirit.
In a Dallas Seminary Romans course we were in chapter 8, and Dr. Grassmick said to the class of about 20 seminarians, “Raise your hand if you are led by the Spirit of God.” Only three had the temerity to raise their hands. Three out of 20 SEMINARIANS, men (it would be men and women now) who were spending their lives studying God’s word and preparing to lead others in the spiritual life. Were the 17 who did not raise their hands REALLY not led by the Spirit of God? Were they simply humble? Or were they — what I suspect, and am trying to process — failing to recognize and celebrate the ways in which the Spirit was indeed leading them? Even in the dead of winter, buds begin to form. One can lament the cold, or one can notice and celebrate the signs of life. I want to CELEBRATE WHAT IS. Yes, I’m still a sinner. The glass IS sometimes four-fifths empty. But THANK GOD, the glass IS one-fifth full!
I won’t blame the speaker I had just heard for this musing. While we may not understand those who hurt, we can at least listen. That was his point. But there’s a point beyond his point. As is the case with most of my current poems, the key to my meaning is in the parenthesis. Much that we experience now is incomprehensible. Physical and emotional pain is allowed by God, even in the lives of His own. Why? For now, the answer is not given — there is silence. But one day, we’ll learn how His glory is heralded even by the seemingly negative things He currently allows.
From interaction about this poem on Facebook:
Darol Klawetter: Ha! Set the scene for me: did you almost collide with her as you walked? If she is an angel, she must still be trying to earn her wings.
Brad Hepp: I was walking down this very path, texting a friend in Ethiopia. Engrossed in the text, and with my floppy hat shielding my eyes, I never saw her coming toward me. Suddenly I heard, “You’re going to run into the elephant!” I looked up, and there she was, standing 8 feet away, immediately to my left. I said, “I rarely do this; please don’t rebuke me.” She replied, “I’m just kidding you, but I am worried about the elephant in front of you.” The way I responded, you’d think I have no sense of humor, and am easily offended (sadly, a little true). When I walked the next day, I was more conscious of all I encountered as God’s fellow image bearers.
Thinking about evolution and creation…. Evolution relies on chance and death. What does the Creator rely on?
