Month: April 2017

To imagine there’s no heaven . . .

To imagine there’s no heaven
but one on earth, it isn’t hard to do . . .

Think of all the good
that you have ever known,
all the joy, peace, happiness, pleasure, delight, and beauty.

Imagine all the good times, friends, grace-filled family reunions,
banquets and feasts, and all the fabulous places, sunsets, paintings, crescent moons.

Recall the many aqua summer evenings of pure bliss
sitting out under the stars with friends around a fire of embers.

Remember all the moments of shimmering wonder at the sea
and how we marveled at God’s awe-filled universe.

Consider the times of laughter
that made us roll on the ground in fitful abandon.

Bring back to mind the incomparable joy of first knowing
that Jesus is the King of creation,

suddenly to see this world as it is
with eyes and heart open to love its glories.

In other words, picture life as you know it now
without any consequence of corruption.

Yet, even more, consider “heaven” as the eternally creative life
we have now begun in this world to its very fullest extent
before his glorious presence.

Then, it isn’t hard to imagine a brotherhood without “religion”
when the world will be as one,
with no greed nor hunger,

the peace of perfect shalom,
no death nor destruction when all the kingdoms of the earth
become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ.

Saturdays

tiel 2Saturdays
We would sit and wait
for the dust motes
to settle like the soft moss
under the old tire swing
hanging from the oak in the pasture
on the western side of the barn
that seemed perched in time
like the planets and stars at dusk
in conjunction
when the barn swallows
would swirling dance above us
before the bats would charge
into the dark to catch their fill
and the fire-flies would heat up the misty fog
rising through the tall grassy fields
when no-one is rushingtiel 2
to this or that
matter of great consequence.

The air is liquid tiel and calm
as crickets sing with the bullfrog
drumming in the pond a deep rhythm
like pearls that shimmer a sound
so translucent it feels like words
new words rising up with force
of blooming light
birthing beauty
and the day gives out
its gifts of rest.

It is an ancient Sabbath
the promise
we await.

Does the heart

  1. Does

Does the heart ache
for itself
for fear of missed options,
or longings unrequited,
as age forms into the agony
and pith of tears?
Does your heart break now
into rivulets
of sounds, words, and faces,
of the decades remembered,
as in so many hours
of regret to recall
the moments of care
missed in haste
and concern with things
of consequence?

  1. Was

My father was
a good man,
he came to cry
at the chords of sorrow,
unexpectedly,
Hiroshima or Nagasaki,
missed longings
of another age
that cut into the present pain
of anguish for others unidentified
sadness for them
missed in love
unaccounted for.

Revelation from God and the limits of the canon of Scripture (and the question of continuing revelation)

Does revelation communicated from God continue today? If so, is it inspired? And, if it is inspired, should we consider it infallible (since God cannot lie)? And, if it is infallible revelation from God should we not have it written down and included in the canon as inerrant Scripture?

To consider an answer to these questions, see illustration and brief discussion here:

Revelation and the limits of the canon of Scripture

Codex_Sinaiticus_open_full