Route 90: Poor in Spirit

Route 90
3ci is on our third week of a ninety day reading plan through the New Testament. It has been exciting to open my Bible and know that what I'm going to read is the same thing everyone else in the church is reading that day. We are together listening to God, getting deeper into a knowledge of Him through the power that is His word.

The law of your mouth is better to me than thousands of gold and silver pieces

Psalm 119:72

We are learning to value, enjoy and absorb the things He has said to us!

The Sermon on the Mount
Today we read Matthew chapters 5 - 7 - known as Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. (Holla at my Red Point peeps who are doing a whole series through the Sermon on the Mount.)
When Mahatma Gandhi was asked what text he would carry with him if he could only carry one written piece, out of all of literature Gandhi replied, the Sermon on the Mount. I would like to reflect on one verse out of these very potent 3 chapters.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, minister of Westminster Chapel, taught through the Sermon on the Mount and these preaches were transcribed into a book of 600 pages. One of my favourite chapters was on Matthew 5:2:

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for their's is the kingdom of heaven.

Two things first:
1. The word "blessed" in the Amplified version of the Bible is expounded like this:

"happy, to be envied, spiritually prosperous, with life-giving joy and satisfaction in God's favour and salvation regardless of their outward conditions."

and this may be read the same for all of the Beatitudes (verse 2 - 11 beginning with 'blessed').
2.Sometimes when reading through the Beatitudes, it's easy to ascribe them to someone else - ag shame, that one mourning, she will be comforted. Actually, the Sermon on the Mount is Jesus' painting of the ideal Christian, with the Beatitudes being 8 descriptions that should always and increasingly apply to us. (This is such a good thing; I would like the meaning of 'blessed' to apply to me!)

Poor in Spirit
Poor in spirit in the Amplified version of the Bible is expounded as:

the humble, who rate themselves as insignificant.

I'm not sure why this picture is here.
 But it is cool like you.

The following are quotes from Martyn Lloyd-Jones about this verse:

• it at once condemns every idea of the Sermon on the Mount which thinks of it in terms of something that you and I can do ourselves. It condemns at the very outset the view which regards the Sermon on the Mount as a program for man to put into operation immediately, just as he is.

• What are Lord is concerned about here is the spirit: in other words, it is ultimately a man's attitude towards himself.

• If one feels anything in the presence of God saw an utter poverty of spirit, it ultimately means you have never faced Him.

• to be 'poor in spirit' does not mean you were born like that.

• The man who is poor in spirit need not worry so much about his personal appearance and the impression he makes, he always gives the right impression.

• Jesus became a man, He took upon Him, 'the likeness of sinful flesh.' Though He was equal to god, He did not clutch at the prerogatives of His Godhead. He decided that while He was here on earth He would live as a man, though He was still God, and this was the result. He said, "I can do nothing of myself." It is the God-man speaking. "I can do nothing of myself." He said also, "The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does His works." i.e."I can do do nothing, I am utterly dependent upon Him. That is it. And look at His prayer life. It is as you watch Him praying and realize the hours spent in prayer that you see His poverty of Spirit and His reliance upon God. ...

• That then is what is meant by being poor in Spirit. It means a complete absence of pride, a complete absence of self-assurance,of self-reliance. It means a consciousness that we are nothing in the presence of God.

• If we are truly Christian, we shall not rely upon our natural birth...we shall not believe in and rely upon our natural position in life... we shall not rely on our own morality and conduct and good behaviour. We shall not bank to the slightest extent on the life we have lived or are trying to live,

• How does one become poor in spirit? The answer is that you do not look at yourself or begin by trying to do things yourself.

• The way to become poor in spirit is to look at God...read His law ... contemplate standing before Him.

In light of what God is wanting to do with 3ci, for us to wait and receive the Holy Spirit, I would ask us to go on our knees and let Him make us poor in spirit.

Please add your thoughts!

Bride of Christ

She is getting ready for the wedding and Jesus said she must have the most beautiful dress and nothing less. It is a glowing, bright white. A huge ballgown skirt - we exclaim, it's too much! but he insists also on a dazzling crown, studded with many jewels and a necklace dripping with diamonds. He's paying for it, so He insists. She is purity and she is dignity, she walks straight-backed down the aisle and she cannot look away from the groom's eyes, He waits patiently in His fierce love. His eyes are a mesmerising fire, the Lion of Judah awaiting His bride.

The Great Sanctification

"First clean the inside of the cup, then the outside will also be clean."

This past holiday saw me doing some very deep spring cleaning in my bedroom. It began with a thought of file organizing but my heart was soon sinking in recognition of the task as a proverbial iceberg: I was out of storage space.

Clutter is inconveniently claustrophobic, and I do not like the constant visual reminders of my disorganized state of living. So I put the mess where I cannot see it. A friend once watching me tidy my room, said: "You know, shoving it in your cupboard does not count as tidying." This was a startling revelation since shoving things out of sight was my cleaning method of choice. My cupboards were consequently bulging open, I had to use an elastic band to keep the doors in a simulated state of closure. Another friend, who is particularly vocal about his dislike of uncleanliness - the topic comes up at least three times a visit - had a glimpse once into that black hole and burst out with a shocked remark on its despicable state, to which I cringed, "Don't look!". I respected both of my more disciplined friends' opinions but it was only when I visited a third friend and saw the inside of her cupboards hat I realised where I fell in the greater scheme of personal organization.

I was curious as to what I would find in the stomach of that beast, behind the voluminous gaping jaws of my cupboard.  There are things that I need and use everyday so what could be using that space? It took me 7 hours to sift through the admittedly small cupboards as well as my two bookshelves and desk. The turning out of junk sent me into an absolute cleaning frenzy, tossing the useless poppycock into piles and into the bin. In the end a vast pile of paper was to be recycled - including writing books from grade one?! - and a box and a large carry-bag of donations to be taken to Hospice. All of that I have retained despite three house moves in the past. What exactly was it made up of? I still cannot say. I did however find some gems, the best of which was a diary I had kept when I was thirteen.

What I did not expect from my adventure was the spiritual high and emotional elation of getting rid of useless stuff. Actually knowing what is in my cupboards: kick of dopamine. Being able to stand against my cupboard door and spread my arms flat: I almost began to cry. Every time I look over at my newly organized bookshelf, I feel a neat and pious thrill of satisfaction piercing my heart... Now I understand.

*

The sun shields us from the strangeness of the stars with her bright blue joy
I agonise until the sky blackens over with night's relief
Remorse: I lie awake to greet their peak - but sleep blurs my mortal vision from their splendour,  I'll never know it.

And you: elusive, waking dream, too strange/wonderful for me.
You are the sun too bright to see,
You are the stars too subtle.

5a.m. Haiku

The morning sky is
Lightening at her edges
Like blossoming hope.

Lucid Dreaming

Inspired by William Faulkner's stream of consciousness writing.

we rolled down down down down the grassy banks when

 we got to the bottom we were in a pool and the pool was deep and the 

pool had navy blue water so we splashed each other for a 

while we were soaked we lay belly-up floating until we

 looked too long at the shifting sky and our eyes became

 the sky and we could see everything the sky could see

 the whole world and we wanted to cry because the world

 was terrible we held each others' hands then we blinked

 we heard something we stood up out of the pool the pool

 had become navy robes heavy around us with trains and

 waterfall sleeves and we had rose-gold filigree circlets on

 our foreheads that sang when we moved. Then we look and

 saw an antelope watching us sniffing the air it came close we

 greeted it with our fingertips another one came we climbed

 onto them and we rode into the stars which spangled and

 cascaded and spun around us and we galloped further past

 the stars into the bitter darkness of the universe and we began again.

Morning

Once I again I make a stab at my life dream of netting the beauty and wonder of morning into words. Sigh...'tis not possible.

Morning / Perfect View

The sky is wearing the prettiest pale blue 

The trees are yawning out of shadow 

Wakened by silken light and those hooligan morning angels:

Shrieking, giggling, gibberish birds.

 The grass is drenched in tears of the Moon, 

She left them as a sensible morning tonic for the sun.

 One star lingers to watch you open your eyes,

Begin again.

Spring Haiku

Spritely Spring came up
Startled us with green and green,
And boisterous flowers.

The Entire World

"He will quiet you with His love" - Zephaniah

The Entire World

The whole world is a dream, except you.

My Love, sometimes, 

Half-crazed by demons I pull away from you,

Run to the ocean tidal pools.

The rumoured tides begin to grow unheeded

Until they rage in ruthless passion:

I am dashed again and again against the rocks,

Wasted by agony until the days waken wisdom -

Fool! - I crawl to you

Battered and bruised fall at your feet, only to hear you say

"Beautiful!" - your voice chases out head-spiders 

You wash the salt from my hair

Your smile is a crown of flowers for my head.

The entire world was a dream until you.


.

Summer Haiku

The sun again, with 
Her passionate kiss drawing 
Colour from our cheeks.d

Christmas 2014: Another Major Disappointment

Well we've seen the side of Christmas that is a paganised celebration of materialism, training the next generation in the mystical magic of spoilt brattiness...

It is odd to me that my perfectly reasonable demands on my gift wishlist, neatly penned onto scented and flower-bordered paper, given to my parents (exactly a month beforehand) was entirely left unmet.

I must, as tradition so calls for, lament my losses appropriately to the empty abyss that is the online world where I expect a full stream of sympathy from both friends and strangers alike - Let us stand together in a true Christmas spirit of selfishness.

Following is a list of things that I (again) did not receive for Christmas -and have hence forwarded to the Christmas 2015 list.

• Silk Yoda onesie
• 500 pack of fireworks
• Solar-powered hairdryer
• Pen with a strap so that you can hang it around your neck
• Glow-in-the-dark nail polish
• Butterbeer
• An Amazing New Skill (or Talent)
• An emergency yield roadside triangle like Kim Kardashian's
• Hat made out of toilet paper
• Hello Kitty themed yacht
• Set of crutches with matching moonboot
• Fake ninja throwing stars
• An orrery
• Glasses that let you see into the future
• Vanilla lipbalm
• Guitar Hero that you can install in your car and play while driving

I have hope that the second half of my life will make up for my annual disappointments. I have a lifeplan of breeding enough children and paying them enough monthly allowance for them to save up and buy me everything on the wishlist. Hope you also had good backup plans for your unmet requests.

On Our Way Home Today

Driving home the other day, the sky was overcast but the clouds ended in a jagged edge a finger's breadth above the horizon. Someone had had a good day, I think, and they tore off a piece of the sky to fold up and put in their pocket, to remember the day by. And underneath, the sky was wearing that dizzy-dazzling white-gold that took my breath away for a perfect second.

Driving past Pretoria's people encased in cars: where are they all going / what are they thinking about / are they in love / did they laugh today / do they ever count all their toes like I do, just to make sure they're all still there. Maybe they are wondering like I am and our thoughts are parallel. I think all our number plates in order could be stringed together to get a perfect recipe for the DNA of the universe.

Or maybe they are rewind-playback-ing their day, mourning monstrous and stubborn smudges of imperfection. Maybe they see the ghost ballerinas, black and tight-rope walking the telephone lines home. Or maybe the jabberwocky demons, sleepily watching us from the Jacaranda trees. Maybe they are looking at the robots and thinking about them later changing colour to an empty road, red-green-oranging over and over on a tired Tuesday 1a.m.

Kaleidoscope

For SammyK.

Kaleidoscope

My favourite memories of you I collected as shards in a kaleidoscope,
Pressed to my eye -
Pieces collect and scatter, stories brief and rainbow-brilliant,
Tripping, skipping into one another, pieces
Falling and rising,
Light flirts through merging colour bonanzas,
Multiplied infinitely until we were
Something transcendent.