Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

The Joy of Christian Writing: Writing with the Whole Orchestra

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I went through the Sonship course about 15 years ago with one of its authors, Paul Miller. I remember listening to the tapes his dad, Jack Miller of World Harvest Mission made as I walked the dog.

He talked with such intimate fellow-feeling of Spurgeon, Wesley, Whitfield, theology. He loved these guys; theological concepts were real and exciting to him. He got really, really excited talking about theology and Scripture–as I do!!

I was then working on a big secular book.  My eyes filled with tears as I listened to Jack Miller, because theology so excited me, the things of the Spirit so excited me that I wanted to spend all day splashing in the waves of God. But I believed my calling and my training was to secular, literary writing.

Besides, Paul who was then discipling me said, rightly or wrongly, that I hadn’t progressed enough in my discipleship to write a Christian book with integrity. And so I plugged on with my secular writing, with the fire dying down.

(I wish I had discovered blogging then. Christian blogging is not about having the answers. It’s about recording the journey.)

* * *

 On Sunday afternoons, we used to take the girls to the splendid Williamsburg Regional Library. I noticed my interests had changed when instead of picking up the “New Yorker,” “Atlantic” or “Harpers,” and fretting about when I would get there, I found myself picking up “Christianity Today” because, actually, the theological essays were what interested me.

My Oxford degree in English, my Masters in Creative Writing, the Ph.D work in Creative Writing—I am sure I still subliminally use that knowledge and skills in my blogging and Christian writing.

Annie Dillard said that moving from writing poetry to writing creative non-fiction was like moving from playing a single instrument to playing with an entire orchestra.

I felt like that while moving from secular writing to Christian writing.  I am now writing using my whole mind, spirit, heart and strength. I am no longer smuggling my faith on board, like a stowaway, but am having her captain the ship instead. The captain is not always on duty; Christian writing is not always about faith, but faith does set the course for the work.

* * *

I have long been inspired by song-writers like Matt Redman, Michael Card, and Rich Mullins whose music flows out of their devotional life. I longed to be like that, for writing to flow out of my spiritual life.

In blogging, I have found that place.

If my spiritual life is flat and dull; if I am consumed by distraction and ignoring Him; if I am persisting in something I recognise as sin by ignoring the whispers of conscience; if I am running from God, if I am refusing to forgive–there is no fun in writing a spiritual blog. It takes longer; it’s flat and wooden; there is not much life in it, and, interestingly–it often falls flat with readers.

The fun blog posts flow out of my spiritual life. And then there is such joy in expressing something dear to me, that I don’t hugely care about page views, I have so enjoyed writing it. Rilke describes this in his Letters to a Young Poet.

“You ask whether your verses are any good. You ask me. You have asked others before this.   Now I beg you to stop doing that sort of thing.

Write about what your everyday life offers you; describe your sorrows and desires, the thoughts that pass through your mind and your belief in beauty. Describe all these with heartfelt, silent sincerity.

And if out of this turning within, out of this immersion in your own world, poems come, then you will not think of asking anyone whether they are good or not, for you will see them as your dear natural possession, a piece of your life, a voice from it. 

Growing Younger Day by Day

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May Christ be rooted and grounded in our hearts through faith

Ann Voskamp writes in One Thousand Gifts

I know it in my veins, and viscerally: life is loss.
What will I lose? Health? Comfort? Eventually, I am guaranteed to lose every earthly thing I have ever possessed.
When will I lose? How much time have I got before the next loss?
Who will I lose? And that’s definite: I will lose every single person I have ever loved. Abruptly or eventually. All human relationships end in loss.
Carol Shield’s elegiac novel The Stone Diaries tracks her heroine, Daisy Goodchild, through blossoming and flourishing, wealth, marriage, a huge house and garden, to her old age in a single room.
When I lived in Williamsburg, Virginia, and attended a multi-generational church, I noticed this pattern in my older friends’ lives. They had once had large houses with swimming pools, tennis courts, but their life first shrunk to a small retirement home, and eventually, sometimes, a single room in the posh retirement communities in Williamsburg.
The way of all flesh. The inevitable arc of life unless you are lucky in your health, mental health, and bones. (A single fall, or a series of fall, with broken bones, can so hamper mobility that one can no longer live alone! As does the slow creep of Alzheimers or dementia)
             * * *
We blossom and flourish like leaves on the tree.
We wither and perish, but nought changeth thee.
The arc of life, save for the luckiest.
          * * *
And you know what? That’s okay.
We can grow old happily as Christians. While we might exercise, and eat healthily and keep mentally healthy against the dying of the light, continuous spiritual growth is possible through all the seasons of life.
Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day, 2 Cor. 4:16.
While chronologically, we grow older, spiritually we can grow younger, renewed by the presence of Christ increasing in us.
·      * *
He must increase, I must decrease. (John 3:30)
How do I provide fertile soil for Christ to increase in me?
1)   Our first resort when we want to get something done in our spiritual or actual lives is actually the simplest.
We pray to. We ask Christ to spread his taproots deep and wide in our spirits.
2) Paul prays for the Ephesians, “That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”
When faced with worries—I myself have a daughter applying to university next year, for instance–ask, What is the faith-filled way of looking at this?
3) We read the Gospels again and again, listen to them while driving in the car, listen while we sort laundry, listen while we tidy rooms until we know them pretty much by heart. (Have I practised what I am preaching? Yes, as far as I know, I do know them nearly by heart, after decades of repeated reading, listening, and study).
We do this to get to know how this very distinctive, unique, amazing and spectacular person Jesus thinks, to know what he values.
4) And then, in the hour of testing, we choose what he values.
In little decisions, in big, in matters of scheduling, of spending money, whatever, we consider Jesus. We ask him, “What would you have me do?”
(The answers may well surprise us. He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, and clothes the lilies better than Solomon. His will, for each of his children, takes wonderfully diverse forms.)
·      * *
He must increase, I must decrease. May Jesus so spread his tap-roots in my heart that there may be ever more of him, and less of me.
Every now and again I spend time with a really Christ-like Christian, my good friend, Paul, for instance, or my friend and mentor Lolly Dunlap, or Dick Woodward, and am startled to see Christ flame out, like shining from shook foil.
And I find these glimpses of Christ so attractive, that I want his life to live in me more largely, more hugely.
Oh wind of the spirit,
Blow away the chaff in me,
Let there be less of me, and more of Jesus
Oh Holy Spirit, tongues of fire,
Burn away the dross in me,
Let Jesus shine forth,
Oh Holy Spirit, streams of living water,
Wash away the dreary dust from my spirit,
Let the light, the radiance of Jesus shine forth.
Am I willing for this hurricane of the spirit,
this deluge, this consuming fire
these necessary acts of God to shake my soul
so that I may henceforth dwell in the high
and holy places of joy with Jesus?

I am willing.

Oh, but I am a cowardly lion, nervous
before the wild and good lion
who controls the wind and the waves.

I do not know what I ask.
Still, possess my heart completely, Lord Jesus,
and burn, blow, wash away the dross in me
with as tame
a hurricane, flood, and fire as possible,
so that you may increase, and I may decrease.

The world is charged with the grandeur of God

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The world is charged with the grandeur of God
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man’s smudge and shares man’s smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward springs–
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

Gerard Manley Hopkins

Coming up for air. Hello Blog and Blogpologies

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Well, I am slowly coming up for air after 17 days working on a project: sorting through 240 boxes, several thousand of books from a second-hand Amazon business I ran for a couple of years, deciding what to keep, and what to get rid of.
Sadly, I landed up keeping nearly 100 loosely packed boxes of books—books I might read, or browse, or refer to, and dozens of novels my children (or grandchildren, when they come) may enjoy.  A well-stocked library at home does lead to more impulse reading. But have got rid of 5000 books, and good riddance!!
So that’s done, and now back to blogging. I have been struggling to keep up with my blog, for over a month—retreat in Wales, Christmas, a week in London, and then big clear out, but now I am back for good. Hopefully, it won’t take long to reconnect with an inner and spiritual life.
I learned several things from the 17 days of sorting through books. The importance of praying and seeking God before you write so that your books don’t end up with the world’s detritus.
Another thing I learned was how much happier I was if I balanced work (sorting through books) with prayer, and exercise. I did 45 minutes of sorting, and then 45 minutes of prayer or blogging, or walking, and that kept me sane.  Perhaps, I’ll sign off now and write a separate post on this enforced introduction to the Benedictine ideal of ora et labora, prayer and workJ

A Memorable Audio-visual Sermon

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 Simon Ponsonby’s Butcher Sermon

(An archive post)
Gustav Caillebotte

Simon Ponsonby’s Butcher Sermon

Sunday 6th June, 2010

Here was the text, James 3. 1Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly. 2We all stumble in many ways. If anyone is never at fault in what he says, he is a perfect man, able to keep his whole body in check.

3When we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we can turn the whole animal.4Or take ships as an example. Although they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are steered by a very small rudder wherever the pilot wants to go. 5Likewise the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. 6The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell.
7All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, 8but no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.
9With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness. 10Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be.11Can both fresh water and salt[a] water flow from the same spring? 12My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.

Just before the reading, a young woman came up to describe an image she said she saw. It was odd, a lion with a heart in its mouth. Embarrassed, she guessed at an interpretation (but no interpretation can match the power of an image or metaphor.)

Simon Ponsonby was so overcome by this that he felt unable to preach his sermon, which, ominously for anyone foolhardy enough to pick the passage, began with “Not many of you should presume to be teachers, my brothers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.”

He preached with authority, sincerity, rhetorical power–and wow! (to go with the above)–brevity. He was a butcher, he said, and went on to prove it.

Leaning over, he pulled out a massive ox’s tongue, which he lovingly handled, caressing its cartilage, fat and gristle. An unbeautiful thing, black-streaked. Eee-ooh, the congregation gasped.

Ponsonby said, “You think this is ugly. But this is tongue that has never lied, never cut someone else down, never puffed itself up, never exaggerated, never praised God and then slagged off the vicar!!, never abused, never cursed, never deeply wounded another.”

“From the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks. Salt springs cannot bring forth fresh water.”  Dentists, he said, can assess an individual’s health by looking at the tongue.

He then went on to the lovely injunction in Col. 4:6 “Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt.”

Grace, in koine Greek was Charis–gifts, benefits, favours. So, let your speech be full of gifts, benefits, and favours. And seasoned with salt, savoury.

“Jesus was generous,” Ponsonby said, “when he opened his mouth, gifts came forth.”

He went on to say that we ourselves would be healed and blessed if our tongue spoke blessings.

The whole thing was over in 5 minutes max.

Visibly overcome, he sat down and asked us to use the 40 minutes to reflect and repent in silence on our speech and our hearts.

God willing, Simon Ponsonby’s multi-sensory sermon will stay with us for a while.

May it be so, Lord.