Closer Today Than Yesterday: Eyes of Faith

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Eyes of Faith

The Word is first...

Galatians 1:11-12

I want you to know, brothers, that the gospel I preached is not something that man made up. 12 I did not receive it from any man, nor was I taught it; rather, I received it by revelation from Jesus Christ.
The Holy Bible : New International Version. 1996 (electronic ed.). Grand Rapids: Zondervan.

Many people think of 'revelations' as some sort of wispy vision, dreams, appearances in the air or apparitions in the living room. It may be true that in some circumstances God does indeed choose to 'reveal' to people in this manner. But when I consider Jesus and the extraordinary manner in which he dealt with ordinary people, I believe that the vast majority of such 'revelations' are of a more common nature. By that I mean the 'revelation' is the revelation of Christ by the Spirit and the opening of the eyes of faith that we may see The Christ Jesus for whom He truly is.

As much as I long to gaze upon the face of the God-man who loved me so sincerely, as much as I long to linger upon his radiance, I am profoundly satisfied that I see Him clearly using my eyes of faith. And though my physical eyes ever search without seeing Him, I feel Him in my heart and know His power, presence, grace and glory. It is that revelation that brings about transformation, renewal and repentance.

So the story to which I testify is not one of folklore and fable, it shall not be found in the fiction section. Rather I shall live it out for it is my biography penned by The Spirit.

Peace,
Carl

1 comment:

Bill said...: And last night those of us who just happened to be at the BPM meeting in the Berry Patch had an encounter with God's presence/power much like that to which you were referring today. It was very real. But, at least by my weak writing skills, almost indescribable.

We had the "normal" devotional time; and then "as usual" I turned the meeting over to God's Spirit; but what happened then, as the men described their "week," was an outflow of God's presence like nothing I've experienced in over 10 years of doing BPM meetings.

It was "special," as the "Church Lady" would say. But I don't want to play it down with any levity. So, what you described in your blog today, Carl, is something which we should pray for and seek after; but who knows where God will show up to reveal Himself as He did last night.

I just want to be there as much as I can be as I live my life the way He intends for me to live it.

Nuff said ... but glad to have your blogging insights back here again ... Bill; February 17, 2010 at 8:29 AM

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So I Stand Near The Gate

I read the below poem at a critical point in my life and it's message resonated with me. My ministry, "Near The Gate" was named in homage to this poem. When reading this poem, feel free to substitute the word 'gate' for the word 'door' and you'll have a little glimpse inside my head.

SO I STAY NEAR THE DOOR

By the Reverend Canon Samuel Moor Shoemaker, Jr., D.D., S.T.D.

I stay near the door.
I neither go too far in, nor stay too far out,
The door is the most important door in the world–
It is the door through which men walk when they find God.
There’s no use my going way inside, and staying there,
When so many are still outside, and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where a door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind men,
With outstretched, groping hands,
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it - - -
So I stay near the door.
The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for men to find that door–the door to God.
The most important thing any man can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands,
And put it on the latch–the latch that only clicks
And opens to the man’s own touch.
Men die outside that door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter–
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live, on the other side of it–because they have found it.
Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him - - -
So I stay near the door.
Go in, great saints, go all the way in–
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics–
It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, or sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms,
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in,
Sometimes venture a little farther;
But my place seems closer to the opening - - -
So I stay near the door.
There is another reason why I stay there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them;
For God is so very great, and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia.
And want to get out. "Let me out!" they cry.
And the people way inside only terrify them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled
For the old life, they have seen too much;
Once taste God, and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving–preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door,
But would like to run away. So for them too,
I stay near the door.
I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not yet even found the door,
Or the people who want to run away again from God.
You can go in too deeply, and stay too long,
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him, and know He is there,
But not so far from men as not to hear them,
And remember they are there, too.
Where? Outside the door–
Thousands of them, millions of them.
But–more important for me–
One of them, two of them, ten of them,
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
For those I shall stay by the door and wait
For those who seek it.
"I had rather be a door-keeper . . . "
So I stay near the door

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Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Eyes of Faith

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Eyes of Faith

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