Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label suffering. Show all posts
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Thursday, November 8, 2007
The River
" 'Have you ever been baptized?' the preacher asked.
'What's that?' he murmured.
'If I baptize you,' the preacher said, 'you'll be able to go to the Kingdom of Christ. You'll be washed in the river of suffering, son, and you'll go by the deep river of life. Do you want that?'
'Yes,' the child said, and thought, I won't go back to the apartment then, I'll go under the river.
'You won't be the same again,' the preacher said, 'You'll count.' . . .
[H]e tightened his hold and swung him upside down and plunged his head into the water. He held him under while he said the words of Baptism and then he jerked him up again and looked sternly at the gaping child. Bevel's eyes were dark and dilated. 'You count now,' the preacher said. 'You didn't even count before.' "
From Flannery O' Connor's story The River. I don't want to give the end away, but the story is about a neglected little boy who learns to hunger for the Kingdom of Christ, which he associates with the river. Its highly disturbing and its all about meeting grace. I especially love this section where he gets baptized...You count now...
'What's that?' he murmured.
'If I baptize you,' the preacher said, 'you'll be able to go to the Kingdom of Christ. You'll be washed in the river of suffering, son, and you'll go by the deep river of life. Do you want that?'
'Yes,' the child said, and thought, I won't go back to the apartment then, I'll go under the river.
'You won't be the same again,' the preacher said, 'You'll count.' . . .
[H]e tightened his hold and swung him upside down and plunged his head into the water. He held him under while he said the words of Baptism and then he jerked him up again and looked sternly at the gaping child. Bevel's eyes were dark and dilated. 'You count now,' the preacher said. 'You didn't even count before.' "
From Flannery O' Connor's story The River. I don't want to give the end away, but the story is about a neglected little boy who learns to hunger for the Kingdom of Christ, which he associates with the river. Its highly disturbing and its all about meeting grace. I especially love this section where he gets baptized...You count now...
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Accounting in Afghanistan
I don't know if anybody saw this, but for a while my profile said that I live in Afghanistan and my industry is Accounting. I don't even know how to spell Afghanistan. I guess if you don't specify these things your profile gives you the first industry and country in the alphabet. Well.
I've discovered this new Wednesday night TV show (LOST doesn't start up again till February :P) called Pushing Daisies. Strange little funny British show, people randomly dropping dead. But I really like it, we'll see where it goes from here.
Scary US history midterm is over, scary writing assignment is over (just in time to start the next one!). Trying to decide whether to do a scary taekwondo tournament which would probably be good for me, but would do nothing for my peace of mind.
I was thinking today about all the passages in the Bible that talk about sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and how, when I'm feeling anxious and fearful about what He might be asking me to bear next, I'm actually rebelling against a crucified God. Deep down I realize that I wish Jesus had torn the nails out of his hands, come down from the cross, called up a legion of angels, because then being united to him would mean being united to triumph without pain. Instead I'm united to a God who had to suffer for glory.
But then I think of the thief on the cross, a man who very literally shared in Christ's sufferings. In the midst of the pain and shame of his own crucifixion he recognized that Jesus' suffering was greater than his. He realized that Jesus was an innocent man, that Jesus was choosing every moment to not call down angels, to stay and die beside sinners. Instead of causing him to despair, this knowledge gave the thief the confidence to ask a really presumptuous question. Something in watching Jesus die, in dying with Jesus, gave him hope of eternal life.
I wonder if the thief knew about resurrection. I wonder if when he asked Jesus to remember him he still expected to have to go to hell for a time, to moulder in prison for a while like Joseph did, waiting for the cupbearer to remember his promise. I wonder what Jesus' face looked like when he answered the man's question, I wonder if he had to yell so his voice would be heard and the people standing below caught his words and scoffed like I would have been tempted to.
"I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."
Verily verily.
I wonder if anyone laughed bitterly. I wonder if the thief himself laughed, in joyous disbelief. He probably heard Jesus die beside him. Maybe fear took him near the end, maybe Jesus' words filled his head as death filled his body. What did his heart cry when they broke his legs?
Verily verily.
I wonder if he even remembers being crucified now.
And I know that this has to frighten away my fear, has to make me laugh in joyous disbelief.
Weighty stuff.
I've discovered this new Wednesday night TV show (LOST doesn't start up again till February :P) called Pushing Daisies. Strange little funny British show, people randomly dropping dead. But I really like it, we'll see where it goes from here.
Scary US history midterm is over, scary writing assignment is over (just in time to start the next one!). Trying to decide whether to do a scary taekwondo tournament which would probably be good for me, but would do nothing for my peace of mind.
I was thinking today about all the passages in the Bible that talk about sharing in the sufferings of Christ, and how, when I'm feeling anxious and fearful about what He might be asking me to bear next, I'm actually rebelling against a crucified God. Deep down I realize that I wish Jesus had torn the nails out of his hands, come down from the cross, called up a legion of angels, because then being united to him would mean being united to triumph without pain. Instead I'm united to a God who had to suffer for glory.
But then I think of the thief on the cross, a man who very literally shared in Christ's sufferings. In the midst of the pain and shame of his own crucifixion he recognized that Jesus' suffering was greater than his. He realized that Jesus was an innocent man, that Jesus was choosing every moment to not call down angels, to stay and die beside sinners. Instead of causing him to despair, this knowledge gave the thief the confidence to ask a really presumptuous question. Something in watching Jesus die, in dying with Jesus, gave him hope of eternal life.
I wonder if the thief knew about resurrection. I wonder if when he asked Jesus to remember him he still expected to have to go to hell for a time, to moulder in prison for a while like Joseph did, waiting for the cupbearer to remember his promise. I wonder what Jesus' face looked like when he answered the man's question, I wonder if he had to yell so his voice would be heard and the people standing below caught his words and scoffed like I would have been tempted to.
"I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise."
Verily verily.
I wonder if anyone laughed bitterly. I wonder if the thief himself laughed, in joyous disbelief. He probably heard Jesus die beside him. Maybe fear took him near the end, maybe Jesus' words filled his head as death filled his body. What did his heart cry when they broke his legs?
Verily verily.
I wonder if he even remembers being crucified now.
And I know that this has to frighten away my fear, has to make me laugh in joyous disbelief.
Weighty stuff.
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