good information from an inspiring author

Margaret Thatcher has called Malloch a "global sherpa." As I skimmed through Malloch's list of accomplishments and involvement in non and for profit organizations, the title seemed accurate. I was intrigued enough to download a free copy of "Doing Virtous Business" from Booksneeze. The book explains how Malloch's Christian faith served as the guiding spiritual principle in business.  This enabled him to pursue enterprise as a life mission.  He discusses specific principles of spiritual enterprise, beginning with the foundation of faith.  I particularly enjoyed the faith, hope,and charity story of the Domino's franchisee, Rumi Verjee. In fact, the specific examples of business owners who maintained spirituality in the market place kept me reading.  The book tends towards textbook prose, or lack of, at times.  As noted by other reviewers, the book can be dry and slow.  And repetitive. However, I,was encouraged by the real life stories of those who made faith-filled choices inmate marketplace.  

Snapshot of Chesterton

I received "The Quotable Chesterton", By Kevin Belamonte , from Booksneeze. Having heard of this literary giant for years, I was ready to tackle the "wit and wisdom" of a man who stood alongside Shaw and Kipling as one of the foremost authors of the early 1900's. G. K.'s musings are listed in alphabetical order by subject. We learn his feelings on everything from "Beer" to "Real Love." I enjoyed learning about his interests, philosophy, and spiritual background. I did not read the book in one sitting, but picked it up from time to time to glance at different quotes. I will use it as a reference for speeches and essays. It is an intellectual shot in the arm. I enjoyed Belamonte's book and will read more of Chesterton's works as the quotes have whet my appetite.

Hound of Heaven

I fled Him down the nights and down the days I fled Him down the arches of the years I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears I hid from him, and under running laughter. Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fears From those strong feet that followed, followed after But with unhurrying chase and unperturbe d pace, Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, They beat, and a Voice beat, More instant than the feet: All things betray thee who betrayest me. I pleaded, outlaw--wise by many a hearted casement, curtained red, trellised with inter-twining charities, For though I knew His love who followe d, Yet was I sore adread, lest having Him, I should have nought beside. But if one little casement parted wide, The gust of his approach would clash it to. Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue. Across the margent of the world I fled, And troubled the gold gateways of the stars, Smiting for shelter on their clange d bars, Fretted to dulcet jars and silvern chatter The pale ports of the moon. I said to Dawn --- be sudden, to Eve --- be soon, With thy young skiey blossoms heap me over From this tremendous Lover. Float thy vague veil about me lest He see. I tempted all His servitors but to find My own betrayal in their constancy, In faith to Him, their fickleness to me, Their traitorous trueness and their loyal deceit. To all swift things for swiftness did I sue, Clung to the whistling mane of every wind, But whether they swept, smoothly fleet, The long savannahs of the blue, Or whether, thunder-driven, They clanged His chariot thwart a heaven, Plashy with flying lightnings round the spurn of their feet, Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue. Still with unhurrying chase and unperturbed pace Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, Came on the following feet, and a Voice above their beat: Nought shelters thee who wilt not shelter Me. I sought no more that after which I strayed In face of Man or Maid. But still within the little childrens' eyes Seems something, something that replies, They at least are for me, surely for me. But just as their young eyes grew sudden fair, With dawning answers there, Their angel plucked them from me by the hair. Come then, ye other children, Nature's Share with me, said I, your delicate fellowship. Let me greet you lip to lip, Let me twine with you caresses, Wantoning with our Lady Mother's vagrant tresses, Banqueting with her in her wind walled palace, Underneath her azured dai:s, Quaffing, as your taintless way is, From a chalice, lucent weeping out of the dayspring. So it was done. I in their delicate fellowship was one. Drew the bolt of Nature's secrecies, I knew all the swift importings on the wilful face of skies, I knew how the clouds arise, Spume d of the wild sea-snortings. All that's born or dies, Rose and drooped with, Made them shapers of mine own moods, or wailful, or Divine. With them joyed and was bereaven. I was heavy with the Even, when she lit her glimmering tapers round the day's dead sanctities. I laughed in the morning's eyes. I triumphed and I saddened with all weather, Heaven and I wept together, and its sweet tears were salt with mortal mine. Against the red throb of its sunset heart, I laid my own to beat And share commingling heat. But not by that, by that was eased my human smart. In vain my tears were wet on Heaven's grey cheek. For ah! we know what each other says, these things and I; In sound I speak, Their sound is but their stir, they speak by silences. Nature, poor step-dame, cannot slake my drouth. Let her, if she would owe me Drop yon blue-bosomed veil of sky And show me the breasts o' her tenderness. Never did any milk of hers once bless my thirsting mouth. Nigh and nigh draws the chase, with unperturbe d pace Deliberate speed, majestic instancy, And past those noise d feet, a Voice comes yet more fleet: Lo, nought contentst thee who content'st nought Me. Naked, I wait thy Love's uplifted stroke. My harness, piece by piece, thou'st hewn from me And smitten me to my knee, I am defenceless, utterly. I slept methinks, and awoke. And slowly gazing, find me stripped in sleep. In the rash lustihead of my young powers, I shook the pillaring hours, and pulled my life upon me. Grimed with smears, I stand amidst the dust o' the mounded years-- My mangled youth lies dead beneath the heap. My days have crackled and gone up in smoke, Have puffed and burst like sunstarts on a stream. Yeah, faileth now even dream the dreamer and the lute, the lutanist. Even the linked fantasies in whose blossomy twist, I swung the Earth, a trinket at my wrist, Have yielded, cords of all too weak account, For Earth, with heavy grief so overplussed. Ah! is thy Love indeed a weed, albeit an Amaranthine weed, Suffering no flowers except its own to mount? Ah! must, Designer Infinite, Ah! must thou char the wood 'ere thou canst limn with it ? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust. And now my heart is as a broken fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank thoughts that shiver upon the sighful branches of my mind. Such is. What is to be ? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ? I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds, Yet ever and anon, a trumpet sounds From the hid battlements of Eternity. Those shaken mists a space unsettle, Then round the half-glimpse d turrets, slowly wash again. But not 'ere Him who summoneth I first have seen, enwound With glooming robes purpureal; Cypress crowned. His name I know, and what his trumpet saith. Whether Man's Heart or Life it be that yield thee harvest, Must thy harvest fields be dunged with rotten death ? Now of that long pursuit, Comes at hand the bruit. That Voice is round me like a bursting Sea: And is thy Earth so marred, Shattered in shard on shard? Lo, all things fly thee, for thou fliest me. Strange, piteous, futile thing; Wherefore should any set thee love apart? Seeing none but I makes much of Naught (He said). And human love needs human meriting --- How hast thou merited, Of all Man's clotted clay, the dingiest clot. Alack! Thou knowest not How little worthy of any love thou art. Whom wilt thou find to love ignoble thee, Save me, save only me? All which I took from thee, I did'st but take, Not for thy harms, But just that thou might'st seek it in my arms. All which thy childs mistake fancies as lost, I have stored for thee at Home. Rise, clasp my hand, and come. Halts by me that Footfall. Is my gloom, after all, Shade of His hand, outstretched caressingly? Ah, Fondest, Blindest, Weakest, I am He whom thou seekest. Thou dravest Love from thee who dravest Me. Francis Thompson

30 Shekels

      As I labor through Leviticus, reading details on menstruation, mildew, and construction, I am struck, once again, by my lack of understanding.  How does re-plastering a mildewed wall become a two-edged sword, penetrating soul and spirit?  Leviticus leaves me pondering the vast and mysterious nature of my health-conscious God who dismisses the death of a slave with 30 shekels. (Exodus 21:32).

     I can't reconcile this in human terms.  He is extraordinary to me, but not safe.  Clinically speaking, the health, housekeeping, and food regulations enabled Israel to thrive while pagan cultures imploded, mainly due to violence and pestilence.

     For Yahweh, 30 shekels resolved the death of male or female slave gored to death by an domestic animal.  Slavery must have been the pits back then, to have one's life count for so little.  But Judas bargained to betray Christ for 30 coins.   “How much will you pay me to betray Jesus to you?” And they gave him thirty pieces of silver. Matthew 26:15.


  There is something to this God - you who are intentional about health and household practices, must also be speaking of more about slaves, shekels, and me.... This mystery, I pray, you would unfurl as a banner of understanding that speaks love, truth, and reconciliation to my heart.  
   

Puritan Glasses

Yesterday, I stumbled upon Thomas Goodwin (1600-1680 A.D.), the Puritan who served as Oliver Cromwell's chaplain.  His writings are filled with an ocean of ponderous sermons with regard to the state and maintenance of the soul.

Here is my favorite so far:  "The indwelling of Christ by faith… is to have Jesus Christ continually in one’s eye, a habitual sight of Him. I call it so because a man actually does not always think of Christ; but as a man does not look up to the sun continually, yet he sees the light of it… So you should carry along and bear along in your eye the sight and knowledge of Christ, so that at least a presence of Him accompanies you, which faith makes.”


Having just finished a discussion on Oscar Wilde's, "The Importance of Being Earnest", which is actually a farce on love and verity, I wondered how Goodwin would review this piece; or would he even take the time to read it?  More and more I am drawn to the self-sacrifice and singular focus of Puritan believers.  Their time, energy, and resources were poured out to the saving work of the Gospel.  I feel challenged and inspired to take stock of my own time, my own energy, and my own resources and soldier forth anew while paring down excess.  

God's mouthpiece

     At various times, God has intersected history to do the extraordinary:  Make Himself known to humans thru humans.  Moses, the stutterer was chosen, over the more polished and less violent of the Israelites, to lead three million people to freedom. He, as yet uncircumcised and estranged from his own kind received the message of the burning bush reluctantly.

Exodus 4:11-12 (English Standard Version) ¹¹Then the LORD said to him, "Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? ¹²Now therefore go, and^(A) I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak."

Though I have never killed someone with my hands, I know I have slayed them with my tongue.  Though I do not stutter, I fumble mindlessly and doubt the power of God, whose burning bush dwells inside of me.  Yet I know that He will be my mouth and teach me to speak.  With his power, I can lead slaves to freedom. but I must choose, as Moses, to stop and see the burning bush.  I must listen to "I AM."  And I must obey.

Burning Bush

Exodus 3:2  There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a blazing fire from the middle of a bush. Moses stared in amazement. Though the bush was engulfed in flames, it didn’t burn up.


  As believers, we are to be consumed by a holy fire.  This fire is the same flame that engulfed a bush and captured the undivided attention of Moses; He "stared in amazement."  


Tonight, my prayer for my family is to be that bush- that is engulfed and consumed, but not incinerated.  The flame didn't destroy the bush and that caused Moses to stare in wonder.  As believers, the flames of our faith can capture the eyes of those around us.  Hopefully, the searing light directs the hearts of others, to great, " I AM."