May I never ensky You as Lord
Without embracing You as Lover
May I never know You as companion
Unless I'm willing to kneel before You as King
May I never call forth Your power
as the Lion of the Tribe of Judah
Without weeping
over the Lamb that was slain
and seeing the blood on my own hands
Oh, God, forgive me for reducing all You are
into small manageable trinkets
that fit in my pocket
I repent of treating the vastness of Your deity
like a buffet,
where I can pick and choose
what to taste
and what to leave behind.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Rescued Ones
"Turn your gaze to heaven and raise
A joyful sound
The sound of salvation come
The sound of rescued ones . . ."
When I sing those lines about salvation and rescue, I get an image of prisoners in a concentration camp. Having heard the sounds of battle getting closer each day, they line the fences looking to see who will reach them first. When the first vehicles pull into view, they rejoice to see the flags and emblems of their liberators.
How much more have we been rescued from! The beating down of our hope, the torture of our own guilt, the malnourishment of our souls, the theft of our inheritance. The casualties all around us and the very stench of death and dying; the endless atmosphere of impending doom.
Because of this barren environment, we have been reduced to mere biology--so focused on just surviving that our humanity has been lost. We are victims, but we have also become thieves and deceivers, looking out for ourselves. Survival of the fittest, right? And of the craftiest and those who keep their wits about them and don't give in to sentimentality.
So the first glimpse of that cross symbolizes more than just an opened gate.
It means redemption of all we have lost.
It means restoration of all that has been destroyed.
It means rescue from the dominion of a defeated captor.
It means a rebirth and recognition of our identity.
It means a new life. My old debts are done away with. Some of my old relationships are gone. But the deepest and most enduring are with those who know. Who have shared the same experience of suffering, shame and salvation. Who bear the tattoo of their previous imprisonment, but also the remembrance of rescue. We don't talk about the prison much, but we have a common appreciation for the rich goodness of simple things. There is a bond, a brotherhood of salvation, that gives us a depth of gratitude beyond gladness for food and shelter.
We are the redeemed.
We are the restored.
We are the rescued ones.
A joyful sound
The sound of salvation come
The sound of rescued ones . . ."
When I sing those lines about salvation and rescue, I get an image of prisoners in a concentration camp. Having heard the sounds of battle getting closer each day, they line the fences looking to see who will reach them first. When the first vehicles pull into view, they rejoice to see the flags and emblems of their liberators.
How much more have we been rescued from! The beating down of our hope, the torture of our own guilt, the malnourishment of our souls, the theft of our inheritance. The casualties all around us and the very stench of death and dying; the endless atmosphere of impending doom.
Because of this barren environment, we have been reduced to mere biology--so focused on just surviving that our humanity has been lost. We are victims, but we have also become thieves and deceivers, looking out for ourselves. Survival of the fittest, right? And of the craftiest and those who keep their wits about them and don't give in to sentimentality.
So the first glimpse of that cross symbolizes more than just an opened gate.
It means redemption of all we have lost.
It means restoration of all that has been destroyed.
It means rescue from the dominion of a defeated captor.
It means a rebirth and recognition of our identity.
It means a new life. My old debts are done away with. Some of my old relationships are gone. But the deepest and most enduring are with those who know. Who have shared the same experience of suffering, shame and salvation. Who bear the tattoo of their previous imprisonment, but also the remembrance of rescue. We don't talk about the prison much, but we have a common appreciation for the rich goodness of simple things. There is a bond, a brotherhood of salvation, that gives us a depth of gratitude beyond gladness for food and shelter.
We are the redeemed.
We are the restored.
We are the rescued ones.
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