Vox Lucens

I have struggled this week with the overwhelming amount of horrible international news from places and people I care about deeply. The extent of it all reminded me of Jesus’ dire warnings in the Scriptures…and there I was reminded of the hope that is at the end of all suffering in the Body of Christ.

I put my thoughts in today’s Weekly Reminder…

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The events of this week reminded me of the warning Jesus gave His disciples: “For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places.” (Matthew 24:7)

Doesn’t that sound like our world? You’ve heard about the cyclone in Burma, a natural disaster which has created a huge famine, and the hampered relief effort that is opening the door for unbelievable pestilence. You heard about the earthquake in China, killing thousands. And you may have even heard of the fighting in Sudan. Everything Jesus foretold has come to pass.

But as I read that passage and thought about the magnitude of the suffering each one of these disasters has brought forth, the next verse caught my eye. “All these are the beginning of sorrows.” (Matthew 24:8)

The beginning of sorrows? What could be worse than war, and famine, and plague, and earthquakes? The answer is simple.

Persecution.

“Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name’s sake.” (Matthew 24:9) Wow. Targeted, specific, deadly attack, leveled against the children of God, pouring out affliction so intense that even the biggest natural disaster is only the beginning of sorrows. So is there any hope for the children of God?

“But he that shall endure unto the end, the same shall be saved.“ (Matthew 24:13) Ah, friends, these words of Jesus are not idle. We see the proof of His warnings all around us and we have the proof of His promise inside us. That proof can give us strength to endure to the end, that we might be saved from the suffering.

I know what you’re thinking– “Whoa, two posts in one day…what is the world coming to?”

Well, that’s a good question, and it is actually what is prompting today’s second post. Let’s recap some recent news:

Bloated Corpses Pile Up in Myanmar

Clashes with Darfur Rebels Reported Near Sudan’s Capital

And as I worry about the impact this could have on our work, I can’t help but wonder what impact these stories would have if they were closer to home. Can you even imagine the outrage if our government stole international aid supplies? Can you imagine the fear if rebels attacked Washington, D.C.?

But reading these stories is very personal to me. When I read about Karen State, Burma, or Omdurman, Sudan, I have memories to go with it, mental images of the people and places now filled with suffering and death. It feels a bit like it would if the headlines had been different –

Corpses Line the Streets of Purcellville, VA

Rebel Attacks Reported in San Diego

I think that approaches the sort of personal impact we’re supposed to feel when the Body of Christ suffers. After all, when one part of the body feels pain, the whole body suffers with it. Does reading these stories, and knowing the impact they are having on believers, feel like you have lost a finger? Do you even feel a pinch?

So what is the world coming to? Nothing that we could not have expected as a result of sin. Dictators rule, storms and earthquakes cause suffering–and some of us, the “lucky” few, are blessed beyond all measure. But don’t let that make you forget that you are part of the Body, and must feel its pain. Without that pain, you will never know the joy of its fellowship.

But don’t stop with the pain…there is so much that you can do without ever getting up from your knees.

Remember Free Rice? I find it absolutely amazing what ad revenue can do in today’s Internet world. Here’s another one: Search Kindly.

If you’re going to search, why not Search Kindly?

On a windy Sunday morning…

I’m so grateful my silver Taurus is in one piece.

Right about now, I am dedicating a good deal of time to worrying about whether or not I’m on the list. Granted, it’s a list that probably doesn’t exist yet, but sometime soon, it will be finished, taken to some dungeon underneath a Los Angeles office building, and placed on the servers of the California State Bar for the world to peruse.

[Sidebar] I don’t know why it feels appropriate that CalBar should have their servers in dungeons. But I can’t shake that visual. [End Sidebar]

Whether or not I’m on CalBar’s upcoming list will have direct implications on my future and my life. It’s rather important. But wondering whether I’m on the list is the worst part of the whole process. It’s worse than studying for it, and worse than taking the test. It’s just waiting, and wondering…and in the wondering, I’ve begun to think about lists in general, especially lists that are important.

The first one that came to mind is far more important than the Bar pass list, as strange as that may sound. While the Bar pass list could affect the rest of my life, there’s a list that affects my eternity.

But there’s a very nice thing about this list: I don’t have to wonder whether I’m on it. In fact, I can be certain. I don’t have to worry about the subjectivities of my graders, or machines goofing up my little circles filled in with a No.2 lead pencil, a proctor losing my stuff, or data being corrupted in upload. There’s a very simple “in” or “out,” and there’s no subjectivity or chance of a mistake.

And I know that I’m on that list. As I tremblingly wait for the decision of some unknown graders, I am grateful for that certainty.

Are you on the list in the Lamb’s Book of Life?

The past couple of weeks have been highly busy, but wonderful from a number of different perspectives. One of those perspectives is that of concert-going. First, of course, was the artistry of Chanticleer, and this past weekend was another concert that I’ve been wanting to go to for a long time: Riverdance.

Ever since photography became a hobby a whopping, oh, six months ago or so I have grown accustomed to taking my camera with me more or less everywhere. Whenever I don’t have it with me, I generally find some way to wish I did, and concerts, where photography is disallowed, are no different. But in some ways, I’m very glad that I couldn’t attempt to take pictures of Riverdance; there’s no way my feeble attempts at photography could have captured even a fraction of the awesomeness of the concert.

I’m not normally a dance person. I love concerts of many varieties, so I wouldn’t dismiss, say, a ballet out of hand, but if I’m going to choose a concert it will almost always center around the music. And the music of Riverdance was superb. The fiddle, the bagpipes, the wooden flute, even the percussion got their well-deserved time in the limelight, and the fast-paced but cohesive structure of the program always left the audience hoping for more. Combine that with the ethereal vocals and the outstanding baritone soloist; well, I got far more excellent music than I bargained for.

But in spite of the quality of the music, it was overshadowed by the breathtaking dancing. I’m no expert, but I tend to be hard to impress - and “impressed” is far too small a term to describe what I thought. Not all of it was that superb, granted; they could have left out the Flamenco and Middle East ditties (both with an Irish flair, of course) and I wouldn’t have missed them, but the core of the program, the amazing Irish step dancing, was unbelievable. I wish I could describe it. The tap rhythms, the gymnastics, the passion and the humor, just never got old.

Great music, great dancing…great show.

At any rate, I also found a few things I could take pictures of…

Perhaps it was the Irish music, perhaps it was the gorgeous roses, or perhaps it was something else, but I couldn’t help but think of one of my favorite Irish love ballads from back when I used to sing this sort of thing regularly.

The Rose of Tralee

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea,
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain
That stands in the beautiful vale of Tralee

She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer
Yet ’twas not her beauty alone that won me.
Oh no! ’twas the truth in her eye ever beaming,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee…