One of my favorite old hymns is the ancient Irish tune, “Be Thou My Vision.” I have heard it jokingly referred to as “the optometrist’s hymn.” But there’s a lot more to unpack in the title than just a plug for good eye care.
God’s word is full of references to sight, seeing, blindness, light, lamps, darkness, night, day, visions and dreams, foresight and prophecy, images and reflections, and much more. God is both the source of our sight, and of our insight. God sheds light on our deepest secrets of the past, and provides a lamp allowing us to see the obstacles ahead more clearly. Jesus came to be the Light of the World, and bring sight to the blind, both physically blind and spiritually blind.
Many times, we pray for answers– we want a quick solution to our circumstances, or a definitive direction for our next step. But God sometimes wants to show us a bigger picture. Sometimes, he wants to show us more intricate details. Instead of asking for what we want God to give us, we need to ask for God to give us the vision HE has for our future. He may not reveal every detail– or he may only reveal the next detailed step. But God’s vision is clearer and bigger, and more glorious than we will ever know if we aren’t willing to look with His eyes to see.
We also need to ask God to BE our vision– that we would see him more clearly for Who He Is! Whatever is in our focus will appear bigger and clearer than things in the periphery. When we allow Him to be our vision, we start to see things from His perspective, which makes all the difference. What we see on our own is often an optical illusion– problems look bigger than they really are, hurts and grievances grow larger, and people become distorted by the lenses or mirrors we use to view them. And we lose sight of God’s glory, wisdom, majesty, power, and everlasting love. But God restores our focus and our perspective, so that we see problems in the light of His power to overcome; we see people who are made in His likeness and image– people who are loved by God, even if they are in rebellion against Him. We see the glory of God’s creation as it was meant to be, even as we see the wreckage of pollution, corruption, disease and disaster. We see God’s mercy as lives are transformed and families are mended and justice is finally achieved. And we see the rays of hope in God’s promises fulfilled and those yet to be fulfilled.
Welcome to a New Year! And everything that lies before us is shrouded in mystery. But is that a cause for fear or excitement?
That is the question that weighed heavily on the mind of Ebenezer Scrooge in “A Christmas Carol.” Scrooge carried resentment and bitterness from his past, and isolation, anger, and disdain about the present. And he greatly feared a future he could not manage or define.
After visits from the Ghost of Christmas Past and the Ghost of Christmas Present, Scrooge was left emotionally off-balance and fearing the worst. Finally, he was visited by the third mysterious spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. He already knew the sad fate of his friend, Jacob Marley. Would this spiritual visitor show Scrooge a dire future already fated, or merely shadows of what might be? And the Ghost delivers strange sights– predators gleefully trading in the belongings of the recently deceased, heartless business acquaintances discussing the funeral arrangements of one of their fellows, and grieving family members in the household of Bob Cratchit. But what was his own fate? Where was Ebenezer Scrooge in the Christmases yet to come?
The answer comes in a cemetery, where Scrooge sees a newly-dug grave and a stone bearing his own name!
Death always seems to come as a surprise, even when we know that we will all die someday. Our own death may haunt us, but usually from a safe distance. It will come someday. Once we are old. Once we are weak, and sick, and ready to rest. Once we have achieved our goals and fulfilled our purposes. But that’s not how death works. It comes in its own time, not ours. It comes, not as an expected closure, but as a rude interruption of our hopes and dreams.
Ebenezer Scrooge, forced to deal with his mortality, and the legacy of his past and present, realizes that life is not what we forge out of our own plans and our strength of will or our hard work. Life is a gift. But life is not a given. Life has a purpose, regardless of the purposes and goals we bring to it. And that purpose has to do with giving and receiving other gifts– generosity, hope, forgiveness, encouragement, time, fellowship, and Love.
This Ghost never speaks to Scrooge with words. Instead, he shows Scrooge a world in which Scrooge has no more chances to give or receive gifts. He has chosen to hoard his wealth, his time, and his heart– and the result is that he will die alone, unmourned, a useless shell of rotting flesh. His fear and bitterness have brought no comfort to anyone, and have left the world a colder, icier, more horrible place.
But there is hope, even in this haunting experience. Scrooge wakes from this night and realizes that he is ALIVE! The Ghost has given him a great gift– the chance to live– the chance to experience connection and hope, joy and creativity, excitement and generosity.
What will this new year bring to US? Can we face an uncertain future with hope? Can we accept the gift of Life– even with its pain and struggle– as a priceless opportunity? Can we reach out to others, even knowing that we will sometimes be rejected, betrayed, and used? Can we strive to make things a little better– in our homes, our communities, our place of work, and in the wider world?
Scrooge did, and so can we! “A Christmas Carol” does not finish with a cold gravestone– even though we must know that Scrooge has to die one day. The story ends with music and light and gaiety, as Scrooge embraces the mystery of his own future and learns to live in hope and charity with those around him.
As we step into the future, may we also embrace the Life that God has given us, the joy of sharing time with others, and the expectation of good gifts that God will continue to give us in the future. As Tiny Tim says, “God bless us, everyone!”
My prayer is that you will experience excitement as we all take the next steps– God’s spirit will light the way; God’s word will be a lamp unto our feet (Psalm 119:105). God’s glorious gift of Christmas– the coming of Christ to be our Emmanuel, our example, and our Savior–will be the carol that we sing as we travel into the unknown!
If you missed my last blog post, I’m looking at the story of A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens. It may not seem like a “jolly” Christmas story, or even a “religious” story, but it is “spiritual.” Ebenezer Scrooge is literally haunted by three spirits over the course of Christmas Eve. Last time, I spoke of the Ghost of Christmas Past. Today, I’d like to look at the Ghost of Christmas Present.
I know, Christmas was a few days ago– we’re currently at the cusp of New Year’s Eve, but these few days between Christmas and New Year’s Day can often feel jumbled up and run together. And, traditionally, the Christmas season is not just one day, but twelve days, stretching from December 25 to January 6. So today is still technically part of “Christmas.”
In “A Christmas Carol”, Scrooge is actually visited by four spirits. The first is the ghost of his old friend, Jacob Marley, who offers Scrooge both a dire warning, and a chance of redemption. Scrooge has already been visited by Marley, and by the ghost of Christmas past– a look at the moments and people who have shaped Scrooge’s life up to the present. Scrooge has seen both happiness and tragedy in his life, but the “light of truth” carried by the first ghost has shown how Scrooge has rejected happiness, instead embracing a life of fear, loneliness, and greed.
The next spirit, the Ghost of Christmas Present, focuses less of Scrooge himself, and more on the people he has ignored or rejected. This spirit shows Scrooge what he is missing by hoarding his wealth and isolating himself from the rest of the world. It is a picture that many of us would do well to study!
One of the first stops is the home of Bob Cratchit, Scrooge’s underpaid, put-upon clerk. Scrooge makes use of Bob’s time and skills, without ever showing any interest in him as a person. Scrooge is oblivious to Bob’s existence outside of the counting house. He assumes that Bob has a family, but he has no idea who makes up that family. The Ghost of Christmas Present forces Scrooge to see that Bob and his wife have several children, including a sickly and crippled son named Tiny Tim. Though they have very little money (thanks in part to Bob’s meager wages!), they have plenty of love and happiness. Scrooge fears many things that may happen, while his clerk faces very real fears that “haunt” him every day. Yet Bob does not complain, does not exhibit bitterness, and does not hide away from the world.
Next, the ghost takes Scrooge to see his nephew. Scrooge keeps his nephew at a distance because of his bitterness and fear. But in doing so, he is missing out on his nephew’s kindness, wit, and warm circle of friends. Scrooge has treated his nephew with disdain, fearing that the younger man is jealous of all his riches. But the ghost shows Scrooge that his nephew actually feels sorry for his uncle. Again, Scrooge has great wealth, but his nephew is content, and even very happy with his lower station in life. He loves his wife and enjoys friendships that make him wealthier in many ways than his uncle!
Finally, the ghost of Christmas Present shows Scrooge a sight he would never willingly see– the suffering and neediness of the poor, whom Scrooge has sneeringly consigned to death. Rather than seeing humanity, Scrooge sees only people who might drain him of his wealth– the undeserving poor who “cost more than they are worth.” The ghost reminds Scrooge of an earlier off-handed remark about helping those who would rather die than go to workhouses: “If they’d rather die, then let them do it–and decrease the surplus population!” The ghost warns Scrooge that he should be very careful in declaring who is among the ‘surplus population’. In heaven’s eyes, Ebenezer Scrooge himself might have less worth than ‘the least of these.’
And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, and sisters you did it to me.’“Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger, and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ (Matthew 25:40-45 ESV)
Scrooge’s feelings and senses are overwhelmed by what he experiences. The present surrounds him– the sights, the smells, the laughter, the cold of a dark winter’s night, and the heat from a roaring fireplace; the stench of the docks and homeless camps, and the aromas of Christmas dinner; the colors and lights of decorations, toys, and costumes; the ringing of bells, and the singing of Christmas Carols. Once again, Scrooge can hear music and laughter, he can sense the love and compassion, but he can only participate on the periphery. The music haunts him, but it comes from others, not from his own frozen heart.
So, what happens to us in this Christmas present? Do we feel connected to the joy and gratitude, the love and hope of the season? Or are we isolated by worry, frozen in fear, enslaved by anger or greed? Christmas is often a time of great sadness and loneliness. And sometimes, the laughter and the lights seem hollow and fake. Especially in the days just after Christmas, we can feel let down, abandoned by the promise of merriment and fulfillment brought by parties and gifts and feasting and entertainment. Outside, the winter is still cold, the bills keep coming in the mail, and fears and worries cloud our days. Some of our fears are very real– disease, grief, loss, sudden changes in circumstances and relationships–Christmas lights and music alone cannot cut through the fog.
My prayer for today, and for the New Year at our doorstep, is that we would open our ears and eyes and hearts to what is around us– acknowledge that we live in a fallen and often worrisome world, but recognize that there are opportunities all around us, as well. We don’t have to isolate. We don’t have to live in constant fear. Christmas isn’t just a day; it isn’t just a season– Christmas is about Christ coming to dwell with us!
Open your ears! Listen to the music of the season– “Peace on Earth! Good Will to Mankind!” “JOY to the World! The LORD has come!” “Let Heaven and Nature Sing!” “Glory to the Newborn King!” Keep listening to the promises of God’s Word– “Never will I leave you nor forsake you!” “Lo, I am with you always!”
Open your eyes– see the wonderful opportunities to share both joy and sadness with others. Seek out the great opportunities to give and receive help and love and fellowship! See the good things that the LORD has done– the friendships and family in your life; the beauty of nature, the ‘wonder of His Love!’.
Open your heart– Receive the greatest Gift! Redemption; new birth; eternal and abundant Life! Choose life and gratitude and humility. Practice childlike faith, hope, and JOY!
Charles Dickens wrote “A Christmas Carol”– a (literally) haunting tale of greed, bitterness, and, in the end, redemption. Set in Victorian England, the story involves a miser named Scrooge, his business partner, Marley, who has been dead for seven years, and three mysterious spirits: The Ghost of Christmas Past, the Ghost of Christmas Present, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come…
Scrooge and Marley
Scrooge doesn’t really hate Christmas. He considers it a Humbug– an annoying and worthless distraction from the “reality” of making money. What bothers Scrooge– what eats at him and rules his actions– is the fear of poverty and powerlessness. He avoids relationships so that he cannot be hurt or abandoned. He avoids spending money– even for common comforts like coal to heat his office–for fear that he will fall into poverty. He does not like people because he will not trust anyone enough to risk getting hurt or used.
Scrooge’s only “friend,” his former partner Marley, lived by similar principles during his lifetime. He “visits” Scrooge on Christmas Eve to warn him of the fate that awaits those who fail to realize that there is more to life than making and keeping money. “Mankind was my business. The common welfare was my business; charity, mercy, forbearance, benevolence, were all my business. The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the comprehensive ocean of my business!” Marley has managed to arrange for Scrooge to be haunted by memories of the past, visions of the present, and shadows of what may be in the future.
The first of these “spirits” reminds Scrooge of Christmases from his childhood and early adulthood. Some of the memories are sad– Scrooge is left to spend the holiday alone at school, as his cold and distant father refuses to show him love, mercy, or guidance. Later, Scrooge is reminded of how his decision to pursue wealth alienated the woman he could have married. But there are happier memories, too. His first boss, Mr. Fezziwig, brought happiness and a sense of camaraderie and purpose to Scrooge’s early employment. He celebrated both hard work and the joy of fellowship with his employees. Scrooge sees visions of his beloved sister and is reminded that he has a family (his sister’s son) with whom he could make and share happy memories– if only he would choose to do so.
I will write about the other visitations later, but I want to camp out here for a little bit.
What memories would the Ghost of Christmas Past bring to me? To you? Are there sad or painful memories of Christmases without loved ones? Christmases that included anger or rejection? Christmases spent with poverty, uncertainty, or sickness? Would you feel bitterness? Fear? Guilt? Regret? Or would there be nostalgia for days gone by? Longing for family members who have passed? Questions about what might have been?
It is tempting sometimes to shove our memories of Christmas past in a closet or an old trunk and try to forget them. In Dickens’ story, Scrooge ends up desperately trying to snuff out the light of Truth that the spirit is holding. He doesn’t want to remember; doesn’t want to know or deal with the pain and loss of his past.
But before we can truly live in the present, we must confront the past. We do not have to live there. Our memories– good and bad– are but shadows of the things that have been. But they can cast long and devastating shadows if we let them. Denying past pain or trauma can give us a false sense of control. Burying ourselves in work or pleasure or entertainment may feel like a solution. Being cautious and angry and cynical may seem like wisdom. We can blame others, blame ourselves, even blame God for our feelings of hurt and fear of being hurt again and again. OR we can, with the light of truth, revisit our past. We can discover the healing power of redemption and forgiveness. We can– we must– still acknowledge the pain, the injustice, the grief that lies on our past. But we also must see that the shadows of the past only fall behind us. However the past may have shaped us, damaged us, challenged us, or forged us, the present and the future can be turned in a new direction.
And that is possible because of Christmas– because of Christ!
When Scrooge first visits his past with the Ghost of Christmas Past, the first image he experiences is of his classmates from school riding in sleighs and wagons singing Christmas carols. Singing! He could not join in. As an adult he has chosen not to join others as they sing of the wonder of Christ’s birth. But the carols echo– their message endures! Christ is Born! Glory to the Newborn King!
My prayer today is that Christmas past holds some happy memories for you. But the very Good News of Christmas is that it isn’t just about the past. And our past Christmases don’t have to haunt us. Because the Light of Truth– The True Light of the World (John 1:9) –that came on that first Christmas so long ago leads the way forward!
One of the great classic Christmas carols, “The First Noel,” describes the night of Christ’s birth as a “cold winter’s night, that was so deep.”
It is dreamy and dramatic to think of Jesus coming into a cold, dark, dreary (and even snowy) world, bringing angels, glorious stars, kings bearing expensive gifts, and joyous songs.
We tend to look at Advent as a time of darkness and silence, in anticipation of the coming light and the Gospel. The idea that the world before the Birth of the Savior was cold continues the pattern of absence. Darkness does not exist independently. Neither does silence or cold. Each is the absence of something else– Light, sound, warmth–and it can only be known by the degree to which its opposite is reduced, distant, or absent. In contrast, the light, sound, or warmth is made more evident in contrast with its opposite–we may not notice a slight difference in lighting on a sunny day, or a slight difference in temperature; but a candle in a dark room, or a whisper in a silent auditorium has a dramatic effect.
We don’t actually know the exact date of Jesus’ birth, and while December falls during winter, that doesn’t always mean a cold night in every part of the world. If shepherds were watching their flocks in fields just outside of Bethlehem, it is not likely that the temperatures were below freezing, or that there was snow and ice all around. The Middle East is not known for icy winters, after all. Nighttime generally brings colder temperatures, and it may be close to freezing by the middle of the night if you have no fire or protection from the wind, but a “cold winter’s night” is more likely to be found in Minnesota or Finland, not in Bethlehem, and usually in the middle of winter– January– rather than the beginning of the season.
However, just like the darkness and silence, the cold of that first Christmas was spiritual in nature. (https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John+1%3A9-12&version=ESV). Jesus entered a frigid world– a world of closed-off people, suspicious, oppressed, angry, sick, and world-weary. Hatred can be cold, but colder still is apathy and disdain and hopelessness. The world of Advent is a world desperate for the light and heat and sound of God’s love– not because God is absent, but because people have moved so far away from Him. The light becomes dimmer, the songs become a series of indistinct noises, and the cold and damp of night creep into our souls. Today, even with the hope and light of the Gospel story, we take our focus off of the true light of the world, and the true source of warmth and love, and too often focus on the lesser warmth of a new jacket, or the glittering lights of a shopping center, or the strident sounds of greed and envy.
Jesus may not have come in the cold of midwinter. But He came into a world of cold hearts as a helpless baby in a strange and unwelcoming land. And he was wrapped in rags and placed in a feeding trough– the warmest place that could be found. But even in this tiny, shivering baby, there was the warmth of Pure Love. And it was felt by all who came in contact with Him– shepherds rejoiced, Mary pondered, Wise Men knelt in adoration.
I love seeing candles and firesides at Christmas time– I love coming into a warm house, full of laughter and love, or singing carols on a cold night, and being invited inside to share the warmth. I love fellowship at church, and sharing a hug and a smile with those I meet. Imagine the warmth of God with us–All of the warmth and life of being wrapped in the arms of Grace, and held by the nail-scarred hands, never to be cold or alone ever again. Can you feel it? Can you anticipate it? Imagine passing that on to someone who has never known such warmth…on a cold winter’s night…
Many Christians are celebrating Advent by lighting candles. So I thought I’d just mention a couple of quick thoughts about how prayer is like a candle:
Even a small candle can provide enough light to make a real difference in the darkness. Sometimes, we feel our prayers are small and ineffective, like a single candle in a dark room. But a single candle can pierce the darkness and offer hope and focus and even warmth where there was none before. In the season of Advent, we light candles to mark the weeks of waiting for the One who is the Light of the World to come into the darkness. His light was enough to save the world from the darkness of Sin and Death. And it is This Light who hears our prayers and intercedes for us. It is This Light who empowers us to share hope and love where it is most needed right now, right where we are.
We are never a single candle! Not only do we have Christ living in us, and His Holy Spirit empowering us; God’s people around the world, through all places and times, are praying. Imagine seeing a single candle at the end of darkened room. Now, imagine how much brighter to see a long table lined with a row of candles, or a room lit by chandeliers and wall sconces with dozens of candles. Even if they are spread out– especially if they are spread out– they will fill every corner of the room with light and warmth. This is one of the reasons it is so important to pray for believers around the world, and to pray with other believers, through prayer nets, prayer meetings, prayer lists and blogs, and prayer journals.
Our prayers are powerful. Not because of our “candle”, but because of the light God provides when we pray
The other day, a local artist stopped by our shop. He commented on the giant mirrors we have lining the north wall of the store. I explained that when we first moved in, the mirrors were left over from a dance studio that had once inhabited the space. They left the mirrors and the barres on the opposite wall. We liked them and left them in place. The mirrors bring in a lot of extra light, and they make our space look bigger than it actually is. The barres make convenient spaces to hang linens and other items for display.
The artist nodded. I went on to explain that we hated the thought of someone removing the mirrors (four panels that run about 7 feet in height and stretch about 30 feet along the wall) because of the risk that they would be shattered and ruined. Then, the artist told his story. One of his early studios was in a small garage lined with large mirrors. Like us, he liked that the mirrors made the small space feel lighter and larger. The extra light was also helpful in creating his art. But when he moved to another studio, the panels were removed, and they broke into several pieces. Instead of throwing them out, however, he glued them into a new pattern on the walls of his now larger studio. He used the broken mirrors to create light and beauty– different from before, but with new meaning and renewed purpose.
And it reminded me of what Jesus does for us. We were created to reflect the light of God’s love, to bring light into a dark world. But often, we feel shattered and useless. Sometimes, God is trying to move us into a different space; different circumstances; a different outlook. From our perspective, it looks like failure. We might even try to glue ourselves back into the same old pattern, but without success. And often, we expect God to see us as just so many shattered pieces, ready to be swept up and thrown out. Or something so broken that we no longer have the power to reflect His light.
But God is an artist. He delights in rescuing those of us who are broken. God redeems our purpose and our worth, giving us new and abundant life. He finds beauty in the broken, and a message in our mess. The prophet Jeremiah speaks to this through the artistic metaphor of the Potter and the clay. (see Jeremiah chapter 18) God molds us and shapes us; He has the power and authority to reshape us for new beauty and usefulness. God was speaking to Jeremiah about the nation of Israel. They had broken their covenant with God, and He was about to punish them. But God still had plans for their renewal and their future– including their ultimate redemption at the hands of His Son! God doesn’t give up on us. Of course, God’s message through Jeremiah is not only about renewal, but about submitting to His design and purpose for us. We cannot reshape ourselves– whether clay pots or shattered mirrors. Only God has the power to shape our purpose.
But more than that, God can reshape our outlook, so that WE too can see the beauty around us, in spite of the brokenness. We see people differently; we see situations differently. We see possibilities where we used to see only problems. We see hope, where there used to be despair. And we are empowered to reflect that hope to those around us. Even though we have been broken, we can still fulfill our God-given purpose of reflecting light and love and beauty.
God has been preparing me for a big move lately. After several years, David and I will be closing our shop at the end of this year. Someday, another renter or owner may remove the lovely mirrors that line our north wall. And part of my heart feels broken at the thought of “moving on” and starting a new chapter. But my artist neighbor reminded me that there is often great beauty in the broken– if we have the eyes to see it. God isn’t finished with me– I will find a meaningful way to serve and share and reflect His love. It may be in a different way or a different place. And our shop will go on to be used for another purpose at some point. And even if the lovely mirrors are no longer in place, the north wall will have beauty and purpose for someone else.
(This post is an updated version of one that first appeared three years ago, during the COVID pandemic. I have updated a few of the references to reflect the change. There is still a lot of darkness and confusion in the world, but some of the sources have changed a bit.)
The past few days have been a dark place for me. I don’t mean that something horrible has happened, or that my life has been upended. But things seem dim and indistinct. Some things I took for granted turn out to be less than sure. Events have been chaotic and tinged with evil and sadness. The present economy seems far from certain, and rumors swirl around the upcoming elections. Many places around the world are at war, and there is violence, unrest, crime, and uncertainty nearly everywhere. Even traditionally “safe” institutions like the family and the Church are under constant attack. It is difficult to know who or what to trust– everything seems shadowed and indistinct.
I read a novel a while ago, set in the early days of World War II in London. Because of the threat of air raids from Germany, the people were required to “black out” their windows at night, and drive with no headlights. People who had driven or walked around the streets of London with confidence just weeks before were being injured or even killed because they could no longer trust the once familiar streets. Craters and rubble from bombing raids, or hastily built ditches and barricades; hidden dangers filled neighborhoods. And people could not count on streetlights, headlights, or lights in windows to guide them safely home. At the same time, thousands of people, fearing that the Germans would use deadly gas, were carrying around gas masks (just in case!), and leaving them on buses or at pubs or train stations, because they were unused to the extra responsibility. Suddenly, the gas mask they were depending on was lost, and all the extra preparation turned out to be useless, anyway.
It reminds me how often I would see people just a couple of years ago, getting ready to enter a store, only to return to their car for their required mask. Many people wore them “the wrong way:” others wore them for months longer than necessary. Still others wore the same mask for several days but failed to wash their hands. Some people stayed in their homes for weeks, even when they could have spent some time getting fresh air at a park or one their porch or stoop. Others took great risks going to stores where other customers were sick. And many workers had no choice but to report to work, knowing they would be exposed to COVID. Many people refused to get the vaccines once they became available, while others were demanding that everyone had to get the vaccine or be charged with a crime. No one was sure if they were “safe”– even with masks, vaccines, and other protocols. It was a very dark time.
Hard times and difficult situations can cause us to shift our focus and have to learn new routines–even new vocabulary! At certain times, life almost seems “normal.” At others, we seem to be tossed by every new wave that comes along. It can be easy to lose one’s way in the fog and darkness of chaos and changing times.
The Psalmist and King, David, had words of wisdom for times like these: “Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” (Psalm 119: 105 KJV)
Even when things seem dark and it feels like I’ve lost my way, God is right beside me. If I have no other “light” to see by, God’s word will be enough to guide me on. When I pray– even in the dark–God sees me clearly, and knows the way ahead.
(SPOILER ALERT)– this post is about The Lord of the Rings and contains many references to plot devices. If you have not read the books or seen the movies, you will be confused and the narrative will be spoiled..
It’s no secret that I am a big fan of the Lord of the Rings by J.R.R.Tolkein. I’ve read through the trilogy several times, and I love to watch the movie version, as well. Even though it is a fantasy story, many of the situations and lessons are “true.” We may not face orcs or dragons or undead ring-wraiths, but we do face difficult challenges, such as war, grief, confusion, and oppression. We WILL face difficulties in life; we need to face them with resolve, courage, wisdom, and action. We may not have to destroy the Ring of Power, but we may have to battle addictions, habits, and relationships that threaten to destroy us.
One of the elements of the Lord of the Rings that captured my imagination from the very first readings was the “fall” of the wizards, Gandalf and Saruman. Saruman, who is introduced as one of the council of “good” wizards, and a mentor/friend of Gandalf, seems like someone who will be able to help the Fellowship in their quest to destroy the Ring of Power. But Saruman has “fallen” under the thrall of the evil Sauron. Using one of the “seeing stones,” Saruman has seen into the Dark Lord’s plans, and has decided that his own wisdom and power are enough to equal those of Sauron. His “fall” is one of self-delusion and arrogance. And his fall is described in terms of color. Where once he was called Saruman the White (the color of light when all the colors come together), Saruman becomes a prism, reflecting all the colors, but broken up, diffused, and no longer giving a true light.
Gandalf’s “fall” in the chasm as he battles the demonic Balrog is both dramatic and unexpected. Coming on the heels of Saruman’s betrayal, it sends shockwaves through all of Middle Earth. It left me devastated. After all, Gandalf is wise, good, and powerful. Having read The Hobbit, it was comforting to have a familiar guiding force to lead this new “adventure.” It is his knowledge and encouragement that has provided leadership and stability for the Fellowship of the Ring. His sudden and tragic absence leaves a gaping hole and many questions. His is a literal “fall.” He falls into blackness– fire and shadow and utter silence.
It strikes me that the wizards of The Lord of the Rings are not unlike the gods and heroes we make for ourselves. We imagine God (and often human heroes, including pastors and other religious figures) as being benign old men, walking among us, offering just enough wisdom, power, and “magic” to entertain, enlighten, and encourage us. We listen for good advice (whether or not we actually take it!), and we take comfort in the fact that they seem to know all that is going to happen. Of course, the wizards in the books are not REALLY gods–they know many things, but they cannot see all ends; they have great power, but they cannot defeat Sauron on their own (nor successfully challenge him, as Saruman learns); they are not always where they say they will be when they said they would be there.
“You’re late, Gandalf!” “A wizards is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to.” (From the Fellowship of the Ring)
Not only is Gandalf “late” for Bilbo’s special party (according to Frodo), but he completely misses his meeting with Frodo and the other hobbits in Bree, due to circumstances beyond his control. And, when the company seems to need him most, he falls into the great chasm and they must flee to the Elves at Imladris. Galadriel offers some encouragement, but it is tinged with dire warnings. Saruman’s “fall” highlights his shortcomings– he can only “see” victory through compromise, deception, and the machinery of war. Everything about him becomes twisted and sullied. In the books, he ends up being a two-bit tyrant, defeated in his attempt to take over the Shire. In the movies, he “falls” from his tower of Orthanc and sinks into the stinking pools festering around his ruined ambitions.
What about our visions and expectations of God? Sometimes, it seems as though He is “late” or “absent” in the midst of our difficulties. We want Him to come in and save the day– tell us exactly what to do next, or make an obstacle disappear, or bring a host of warriors to fight our battles. Other times, it seems as though our vision of God is seen through a prism…if God is really good, how could He let _______ happen? If God is really just, why is there still so much injustice around us? And what about others who follow a different “God.” Which one is real? Which one is “Right?” How can we know? In fact, those who follow Christ are following a God who faced betrayal and death– and He seemed to be defeated. And sometimes, it seems as though He has left us to the mercy of the evil that surrounds us.
God sometimes seems to be “fallen into shadow.” He seems to be absent. Or at least distant and silent. Just as in The Lord of the Rings, we can be left like the Fellowship– shocked, dismayed, left feeling lost and hopeless. Where is God in those moments?
But when I re-read the books, or when I sit down to binge-watch the movies –again– I find myself seeing things from a different perspective. Gandalf and Saruman both “fall” before even the middle of the story. Saruman’s betrayal seems not just tragic, but nearly insurmountable. Gandalf’s absence leads (indirectly) to the breaking up of the Fellowship into smaller, leaderless factions. But here’s what I see clearly in reflection– the Shadows that seem to swirl around the wizards are just that. They are shadows. There is darkness in the Land of Mordor. But Frodo and the rest of the Fellowship carry their own light. (Frodo, in fact, carries a literal light in his gift from Galadriel). They stay true to one another and true to their quest. As Sam points out at Osgiliath, they have had many chances of turning back and giving up, but they hold on to the hope that Good will win over Darkness, and Truth will defeat oppression and deceit, and yes, even the Ring of Power. Gandalf’s absence, while shocking and discouraging, is not permanent, nor is it devastating. It only seems so in the shadow of uncertainty and the chaos of war and suffering. The other members of the Fellowship actually develop their character, their strengths, and their gifts when Gandalf isn’t there to make things easier. He has already given them the wisdom they need– even if they don’t realize it. Gimli and Legolas become a team as their unlikely friendship develops. Merry and Pippin mature into warriors and diplomats. Aragorn becomes the King he was always destined to be. Frodo and Sam–unaware of Gandalf’s victory until the very end, still face all their dangers, including betrayal by Gollum, and save all of Middle Earth!
And so it is with our difficulties. We are looking around for help, wondering how we will continue if God is in the shadows; if God remains silent. We want to see His hand moving the chess pieces, or hear His voice calling out our next step. When we don’t hear it, we can make bad choices– we can give up hope, compromise with the enemy, or trust in our own power to see us through–or we can stay true to His Word and keep running the good race (see 2 Timothy 4:7-8) God does not abandon us– unlike the wizards, He is omniscient and omnipresent– but sometimes He stays in the shadows, knowing that it is for our development and maturity. I don’t have certainty about my choices and my actions, but I have the Bible and I have the Holy Spirit.. I have prayer. And I have the people God sends into my life to give advice and encouragement. I may not know if I can trust even the advice of religious leaders, but I can compare their advice with what I read in God’s Word and what I see in their actions. When I read the Bible, I read about promises God made to the nation of Israel– promises He kept. I read in Ezekiel, and Daniel, and again in Matthew and Revelation about His promises for the end of the ages.
It may look dark for the characters in The Lord of the Rings as they battle their way through Middle Earth. But I DO know how the story ends! I know that Gandalf does not stay in the shadows– he comes back more powerful than ever! And Saruman’s army of orcs is defeated; Saruman’s poisonous plot to usurp the mind and will of King Theoden is discovered and the king restored to health. And the Fellowship (excepting Boromir) is reunited after Frodo and Sam are successful in destroying the Ring. And I may not know the next step in my own story, but I know how my story will end! God may seem to be AWOL or “in the shadows” during my current circumstances– in my grieving, struggling, and pain. I may not see justice and peace in my near future– I may not see them in my lifetime– but I can KNOW that God is never late. He is never too early. He will arrive precisely when He means to. No shadow will be able to hide Him; no darkness will be able to comprehend Him. He will come in the blazing light of His Glory– and He will come to make all things new!
Prayer is an exercise in juxtaposition–we seek to have intimate conversation with a mysterious and unknowable God. He INVITES us into this mystery. He pursues us, seeks us out, surrounds us with His Presence, yet He hides His face from us and shrouds Himself in light and cloud.
God is Spirit– He is Eternal, Omnipresent, and Invisible. Yet He chooses to reveal Himself– in the beauty of Nature, in the smile of a stranger, in His revealed Word, and through His Son. Everything we need, we can find in and through Him, yet we cannot say that we comprehend Him, because He is so far above and beyond anything we can imagine.
Prayer is a humbling experience– to approach the Throne of the One who holds the Universe in the palm of His hand; but it is also an intimate and very personal experience– to run into the arms of the One who knit us together and knows the very hairs on our head (or lack thereof!).
After a lifetime of praying and pursuing prayer, I still marvel at the complexity, majesty, mystery, and fragility of prayer. That God should desire to listen to me–whimpering, questioning, confessing, and even offering my best and inadequate praise– it astounds me. And yet it also sustains me, strengthens me, and stimulates me. This same God who holds the stars and planets inhabits the tiniest of atoms in the air I breathe. The same God who ordered the first sunrise, and has watched empires rise and fall, cares when I shed a tear and rejoices when I laugh. God who is perfect, has mercy on me when I confess my pettiness and offers forgiveness when I throw tantrums. The same God who bore the pain and agony of betrayal and crucifixion promises eternal life to those who have rejected Him– if only they will listen, turn, and follow Him.
Today, let the awe of Who God IS– both sovereign, unknowable, and mysterious, AND intimate, loving, and gracious–wash over you as you enter into prayer.
Pursuing Prayer 