Anita Mathias: Dreaming Beneath the Spires

Anita Mathias's Blog on Faith and Art

Christ Walking on the Waters, not of Gennesaret but Thames

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 Billy Bragg sings Jerusalem at Greenbelt 2011

 And did those feet in ancient time.

Walk upon England’s mountains green:
And was the holy Lamb of God,
On England’s pleasant pastures seen!

And did the Countenance Divine,
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here,
Among these dark Satanic Mills?

Bring me my Bow of burning gold;
Bring me my Arrows of desire:
Bring me my Spear: O clouds unfold!
Bring me my Chariot of fire!

I will not cease from Mental Fight,
Nor shall my Sword sleep in my hand:
Till we have built Jerusalem,
In England’s green and pleasant Land .

                                                                           William Blake

Blake refers to the pleasing apocryphal tradition that the young Christ visited Glastonbury with his uncle, Joseph of Arimathea.

It is thrilling: the notion that those feet, in ancient time, walked upon England’s mountains green, that the Holy Lamb of God was upon England’s pleasant pastures seen, and the Countenance Divine shone forth among our clouded hills.

What is no less thrilling but actually true is those feet still walk upon England’s mountains green, that the Holy Lamb of God can still be among England’s pleasant pastures seen, and that the Countenance Divine still shines forth among our clouded hills.

We just do not slow down enough to see or recognize him walking beside us.

Who is the third who walks always beside you?

When I count, there are only you and I together

But when I look ahead up the white road

There is always another one walking beside you

Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded

I do not know whether a man or a woman

—But who is that on the other side of you?

T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land

 

Visionaries and prophets can always see the one walking beside. Always another walking beside us. Can see the hills around us ringed with angels in chariots and fire. Can see Jacob’s ladder between heaven and Charing Cross, as Francis Thompson saw it, or between Heaven and Oxford. Can see Christ walking on the water, not of Genesareth but the Thames.

 

Here’s one of my favourite poems by a Christian mystic, Francis Thompson.

The Kingdom of God

1

“IN NO STRANGE LAND”

O world invisible, we view thee,

O world intangible, we touch thee,

O world unknowable, we know thee,

Inapprehensible, we clutch thee!

5 Does the fish soar to find the ocean,

The eagle plunge to find the air—

That we ask of the stars in motion

If they have rumor of thee there?

Not where the wheeling systems darken,

10 And our benumbed conceiving soars!—

The drift of pinions, would we hearken,

Beats at our own clay-shuttered doors.

The angels keep their ancient places—

Turn but a stone and start a wing!

15 ’Tis ye, ’tis your estrangéd faces,

That miss the many-splendored thing.

But (when so sad thou canst not sadder)

Cry—and upon thy so sore loss

Shall shine the traffic of Jacob’s ladder

20 Pitched betwixt Heaven and Charing Cross.

2

Yea, in the night, my Soul, my daughter,

Cry—clinging Heaven by the hems;

And lo, Christ walking on the water,

Not of Genesareth,

3

but Thames!

 

May we always see Him walking beside us.

Prophets, Deserts and Alternative Power

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Prophets, Deserts and Alternative Power Sources


I was thinking last evening of prophets. It is interesting how many of them had to go out into the Judean desert to hear the word of God.


Why? I used to wonder. Why did one need to go into the desert–outside, often in opposition to the traditional power structures of the day–why did one need to be powerless, lonely, quiet, possibly hungry and thirsty, and sensorily deprived to hear God?


I now realize that, of course, one has to. It is the best, if not the only, way. The voice of God, a well-bred, considerate, gentle voice for the most part–a gentle whisper, Scripture calls it–is not easily heard amid the noise and clamour of popularity, friendship, social life–all good things, all good things. Except they do militate against the solitude one needs to hear God. Almost to a man, prophets don’t choose the desert. They are only human. God has to call–sometimes push–them into the desert.  Because it is in the desert that a prophet develops his greatest and priceless gift: his ability to hear the voice of God. 


Let’s consider Moses. An interesting part of his story is that he did not choose to go into the desert, nor does he go there in obedience to the voice of God. He is pushed there by his own sin. He loses his temper, takes the law into his own hands, kills a man, and flees to the desert in terror when this is discovered.


And in the desert, outside the court  to which he had once belonged, and its power and pomp, he experiences God, and in a dramatic way that could only have happened in the desert. A fire that steadily burned and was not consumed. Continually renewed energy. A manifestation of infinite Power. And with it, a simple new name for God, I AM WHO I AM.


And in contradistinction to the power of Pharaoh, Moses is given power, a shadow of God’s power. He can turn sticks to snakes, turn the Nile bloody, summon locusts and frogs and pests, turn the land dark at noon. He is a man to be listened to–and he finally is. 
                                                                      * * * 


Elijah also operated outside, and in opposition to, the normal centres of power–Kings, who were anointed, but who, continuing in sin, had lost their ability to hear the word of God. Ahab interestingly calls him, “You troubler of Israel.”


He is given power of his own. He can command the rain. He can command fire. He can do what 400 false “prophets” could not.


David, Daniel, the list goes on. Men formed in the desert, operating outside normal locii of power, often in opposition to them, yet gifted by God with such extraordinary and startling power that people had to sit up and pay attention. 




Because power eventually comes from God. Comes from the Lamb who has all “power and wealth and wisdom and strength and honour and glory and praise.” Comes when the Holy Spirit comes upon us.


And, interestingly, looking at prophets from both Old Testament and the New (John the Baptist, and later Paul and John who both had amazing Christophanies) this divine power always, I think, falls on the powerless who operate apart from and often in opposition to the normal locii of power. It falls on those who have learnt to hear God’s voice in the solitude and loneliness of the desert. 

Prophetic activation and fire tunnels with John Arnott of Catch the Fire

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My daughter Irene,11, was very excited when I told her I went through a two hour session on prophetic activation and fire tunnels today. It sounded like something out of Harry Potter or science fiction.

It is, in fact, an invention/practice from the famous/notorious Toronto Airport Fellowship (now Catch the Fire), home of the Toronto Blessing. The participants make a tunnel, facing one another, and then take turns to run through the circle (as in the child’s game, Oranges and Lemons). As they walk, run, stagger through it, the other participants lay their hands on them, and pray for them, bless them, or prophesy over them.

It is very intense. One does feel love for all these sweet Brits as you pray for them again, and again. As you strive to see people as Jesus must have seen them, you do begin to feel love for them–to, in fact, see them as Jesus might have. It’s amazing to do nothing but try to see people, and pray for them.

Receiving prayer yourself from hundreds of people is an intense experience. You feel a bit weak, shaken and exhausted, as if receiving a million small doses of electricity.

I went through it three times, then stepped out of the circle. Enough, no more. It’s lovely, but I’m exhausted!!

The Holy Spirit Defends and Comfort; Satan Accuses and Attacks

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“When the Counselor comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who goes out from the Father, he will testify about me.”

Whereas the etymological meaning of Satan, Diabolus, is the Accuser, the Slanderer, that of Paraclete, is the Advocate, the Counselor, the Helper.

That underscores what I have been thinking.

Accusation, criticism, slander–all these stem from the spirit of the enemy of the brethren, the one who “accuses God’s people night and day.” The Holy Spirit, on the contrary, is the advocate, the helper, the one who intercedes on our behalf.

And in a world of exaggeration and white lies, it is important to be truthful in all things, so that we might increasingly experience the presence of the Spirit of Truth within us.
———————————————————————————————

NIV footnote, The Paraclete is a Counselor or Helper. It is a legal term, but with a broader meaning than “counsel for the defence.” It referred to any person who helped someone in trouble with the law.

Rene Girard, a Christian anthropologist / philosopher, argues that paraclete ought to be translated as the defense attorney who is defending human beings against the assaults of Satan (the Prosecuting Attorney, the Accuser, the fomenter of violence).

Henry Liddell (father of Alice in Wonderland) says the word “paraclete” is an antonym for diábolos.  The former is a defender and the latter is an accuser. (Greek διάβολος or diávolos = slanderer or ‘accuser’).
Paraclete comes from the Koine Greek word παράκλητος (paráklētos, “one who consoles, one who intercedes on our behalf, a comforter or an advocate”).  The word “Paraclete” is derived from the Ancient Greek παράκλητος (paraklētos, “called to help, helper”) from παρά (para, “beside”) + καλέω (kaleō, “I call”). It is passive, and literally means etymologically signifies “called to one’s side”.

The paraclete is often translated as to pneuma (the spirit) to hagion (the pure one)  the Holy Spirit.

 

In Which God sends Ravens and Meat in the Wilderness

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Sermon on Elijah at St. Aldate’s  (1 Kings 17)

A mixture of the sermon notes and my thoughts

Elijah Fed by Ravens

1Now Elijah the Tishbite, from Tishbea in Gilead, said to Ahab, “As the LORD, the God of Israel, lives, whom I serve, there will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years except at my word.”
The Prophetic in the old-fashioned sense. God gives his servants a foreknowledge of what he is going to do. “Surely the Sovereign LORD does nothing without revealing his plan to his servants the prophets.” Amos 3:7

2Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: 3“Leave here, turn eastward and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan.4You will drink from the brook, and I have ordered the ravens to feed you there.”

God’s way of dealing with his servants.
At one moment, enormous power, and exaltation to the courts of princes.
And then, “Hide in the Kerith Ravine.”
Without the hiding, they would burn out in the prince’s courts.
One might need to eschew visibility to find God. 
The downward mobility that is often part of God’s call.
 Downward mobility to prepare you for upward mobility.
Turning from visibility to the formative desert–AT and AFTER moments of high visibility.
If you are currently invisible, be comforted, be comfortable, rejoice, hide yourself in God.
If you are currently visible, make sure you hide yourself in God.
We are never invisible to God, and that is enough.
” A good man is never less alone, than when he is alone with God.”
In obscurity with God, life- and world changing encounters happen.  
5So he did what the LORD had told him. He went to the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, and stayed there. 6The ravens brought him bread and meat in the morning and bread and meat in the evening, and he drank from the brook.

 From visibility to hiddenness. From the courts of princes to being hidden.
The Prophetic comes at a cost. Neither dew nor rain for both Israel and Elijah himself.
Elijah was commanded by God to go the most barren and inhospitable place with no normal food supply to get food and water.
We talk so much about our needs, “the healing power of social support,” our needs for friendship, for community, and all these are valid needs.
And yet, what do we make of Elijah sent off to be alone in a desert place?
For sustained dialogue with God, the kind of sustained dialogue which leads to breakthrough and transformation of one’s life, one needs to be alone, one needs, perhaps, to be lonely, to have the sort of inner quietness within oneself in which one can hear God’s voice.
And so in our bleak seasons we’d do well to remember this prophet summoned to the wilderness, to a shortage of food and friendship, and approbation and attention.
And he was not the first person who discovered angels in the wilderness, in his case, ravens.
The Widow at Zarephath. Elijah challenges the woman close to death from inanition and starvation to first feed him. Come on, Elijah!!
She senses something of God in him, and does so (despite being a “pagan” woman).The law of the tides. When we give from our poverty of time, energy, resources, money, creativity, good ideas, God multiplies our resources.In fact, the best way to get more creativity, energy, time, resources is to generously give what you have.

Elijah is sent to the least of these in a foreign land.  “That is the Gospel, That God CARES about the penniless, lonely, forsaken and poor,” and about YOU and me.

And here is my response to the sermon, written that afternoon as I was mulling over it.

 Elijah

Now Elijah the Tishbite, said to Ahab,
“As the Lord, the God of Israel, lives,
Whom I serve,
There will be neither dew nor rain in the next few years
Except at my word.” 1 Kings 17
The Lord exalts his prophets to the court of princes,
He tells him what is to happen,
Giving him power one cannot fathom.
Which can make him seem crazed.
And how does he equip his prophet
To deal with the electricity
Of the knowledge of what is to come,
The burden of being thought a fool
Which can belong to those who hear the word of God?
After seasons of great visibility,
He moves him to hiddenness.
Then the word of the LORD came to Elijah: 
“Leave here, turn eastward
and hide in the Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan.
“The Kerith Ravine, east of the Jordan, Lord?
But I heard you call me to the court of the King
I thought that was my vocation.”
“You did.
I did.
It was.
But I now call you to something different.”
“But the  Kerith Ravine is barren,
It has no food.
No one lives there.
I have heard men tell of the healing power of social support
I have read that it is not good for man to be alone.
I have heard that iron sharpens iron,
That you show each man a slightly
Different diamond-facet of your face,
So that in community, the jigsaw
Of your revelation of yourself is complete
‘Go alone to the Kerith Ravine.’
I might be lonely there.”
“You might, Elijah, you might.
But I will meet you there,
Teach you there,
Comfort you there.
Can I be heard amidst the pomp of Ahab’s court,
The adulation of the people of Israel
The laughter, warmth and happy
 after-echoes of friendship?
When you talk all the time
When people talk to you all the time
When conversation echoes in your ears
And you leave head whirring with yeasty talk,
Can you still hear my voice,
My gentle whisper?
It is more difficult.
You might well be lonely.
But I who created you
And know the secret roots within you
Which neither you nor the world has guessed,
I will be your friend.
I will nourish you,
Teach you of the joy of my presence,
Fill you with laughter as I draw near,
Flow through you in waves of liquid love,
Make you drunk with the wine of my spirit.
I will teach you that though I am a giver
And love to give you the good things I have created
I am, in fact, enough.
And you will know that for sure
When all you have is me.
I am enough.
I am even practical.
You will drink from the brook,
And I have ordered the ravens to feed you there.
Providing for you though what your people reckon unclean.
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  So Elijah went to the Kerith Ravine,
and the ravens brought him bread and meat
and he drank from the brook.
 Some time later, the brook dried up
 Because there had been no rain in the land. 
“Lord, did I not hear you command me to drink from this brook,
And it is now dry.
Lord?  Lord?”
“You did, Elijah,
I did.
And it is indeed now dry.
But, though you may not suspect me of it,
I am, in fact, intensely practical.
When necessary, I speak new words.
Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there.
 I have commanded a widow to supply you with food.
Yes, I know it is the centre of Baal worship.
But I will again provide for you through the least
Of those you reckon unclean
Blessing them and you
In the circle of blessing in which I delight. ”
“But I had heard you call me to be a hermit by the brook.
I have grown to rather like it here.
I thought that was my vocation.”
“You did.
I did.
It was.
But today is a new day,
And I come to you with a new word.
As I will keep coming as long as you live
Shaking you with new wisdom, new challenges,
And mercies new every morning.”
So Elijah went to Zarephath.

The Sweet Coming of the Holy Spirit–“When the Spirit Comes”

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“Which of you fathers, if your son asks forf a fish, will give him a snake instead? 12Or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? 13If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” Luke 11

You know what I want more than anything?

Really, truly, it is coming and filling of the Holy Spirit, beautifully described by Charles Finney and others as “waves of liquid love.” I think I heard Dick Woodward use that phrase for his own spiritual experience, and googled it. It is amazing, and uncanny to see how many people have used the same phrase for this glorious experience.

The Holy Spirit guiding you, inspiring you, directing you has to be life’s best experience, and it is well-worth repenting of anything which might be a barrier or stumbling block in His path.

When Forgiveness Unleashes the River of Creativity

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Waterfall Over Rocks

About four years ago, I attended a prophetic training day at a large Anglican Charismatic Church in Oxford. I was taken aback when Rachel, the self-described “prophetess” leading it, asked us to give the person next to us “a word from God.”

I do hear from God, all the time, in images and directives, but they coalesce slowly. It seemed presumptuous to require that God give me a word on-demand for the woman next to me, so I did not ask, did not receive, and did not share.

* * *

However, the pretty, heavily made-up young woman (not your garden variety Old Testament prophet) seated next to me shared a prophetic vision she had received for me.

She said, “I saw you in a river, and you were swimming deep in it.”

I got tearful, and here’s why.

While driving on a spectacular road to Milford Sound, South Island, New Zealand the previous month, I had stood spellbound in front of a waterfall.  It’s like God, I thought, his power, his love, his freedom, and his energy.

And I saw rocks in the waterfall, and behind the rocks, sticks, leaves, little worms, stuck there, while the water rushed on.

Never let that be me, Lord, I thought, stuck somewhere, rotting, while your river of love and power and energy, and miracles rushes elsewhere.

Are there any barriers to the free flow of your love and power in me? Show them to me!

And God did.

* * *

 

I was going though “a great sadness” because of how I was treated in a toxic, abusive Anglican Charismatic church—lied about, slandered by a couple of women who wanted to run a ministry I was then running–and got to do so!! The rector’s wife, threatened by anyone she perceived as really gifted, lost no time in crushing giftedness in others. I should have been flattered that she perceived me as gifted and competition; instead I felt crushed by her abusive words and actions.

 

Had I forgiven? Gosh, not then!

 

I wanted justice. Oh, how I wanted it!

 

And I froze. My spirit froze. My creativity froze. I was cold and hard and frozen as I waited for God to avenge me. This state of affairs had lasted for 20 months.

  • * *

 

And so I stood in front of that waterfall in New Zealand, and saw, as in a vision, my enemies moving on their lives, life moving on, while I remained stuck in a great sadness, waiting for God to execute vengeance, frozen, unable to settle down to writing.

 

And so I forgave them all, those rascals.  (At least, I began the process, which is almost complete five and a half years after those events!)

But God saw my desire to forgive, and no sooner did I make the herculean attempt to do so, than the writers’ block which had plagued me vanished. Words began to flow. Easily. Writers’ blocks, like depression, can be caused by unexamined grief and rage.

I began to blog, which changed my life.

And how did the pretty young girl know that what I was writing on that very week was on the river of God? She said, “I was thinking of Ezekiel 47.”

I read it. Wherever water from the sanctuary flows, it turned the salty and brackish water sweet. Fruit trees grew on both banks of that river, bearing fruit every month because the water from the sanctuary flowed to them. And that river provided all kinds of fish.

Creativity, life, blessing, abundance from the river of God, flowing from the sanctuary.

And another young lady sitting next to me said, “I see a river, and a log floating in it. I don’t know if it’s a dead log, or…”

I asked God to remove that log (what else can I do about the secret mysterious recesses of my heart, which I don’t full understand, but pray?) and make of it a chair to sit on, a table to write on, a fire to warm me as I write words which will bless many. for many years.

LIVING WATERS

 

A waterfall, crashing from the heights,

dazzling energy, like the Spirit

of God. I am but toe-deep

in your lovely waters, Lord,

mostly dry,  for most of the day,

but I want to wade, ever deeper

into your rivers of delight.

 

I want to live there, your waters,

cascading around me,

scouring out the ash in me,

irrigating my barren soul,

recalling me to life.

 

I want your waters,

to make the air iridescent around me,

bright, holy and full of joy.

* * *

I want to live in your waterfall, Lord.

I want your living waters to spring within me.

I want to dive through your torrents,

letting nothing hold me back.

Not sin, not sin.

Not unforgiveness, not bitterness.

 

I will let go of anger, once, twice,

and again, so I may not be a leaf,

rotting blocked by the rocks,

but a rainbow fish flashing free.

 

I will let go of my sadness. Let go

Of grief. For what men mean for evil,

you can turn to good.

 

So shall I swim in your great river, oh Lord,

And your great river shall swim within me.

 

The Healing Service which was a Turning Point in My Writing Life

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Our family went to a healing service at our church in Oxford yesterday, a couple of Americans from the deep South, Harvey and Callie Boyd

I was charmed by the seriousness and sweetness and undoubted integrity of the man. He had a low-key delivery, and when he told us of all the miracles he’d seen, we believed him!

Then he asked people to come for healing prayer, and offered to stay as long as necessary until he had prayed for everyone. Hey, that takes a lot of love and humility and a genuine love of people. I was in the first row (our family is still one which runs late a lot, and in these events, the last shall be first) and watched him pray with genuine passion for strangers. Wow!

Our family has been blessed in many, many ways, and one of those blessings has always been sturdy and reliable physical health, without really worrying about it, or trying to achieve it.

But it’s only in heaven that one will have perfect health in mind, body, soul and spirit.

I went up for prayer for a tired, burnt-out brain. And felt a surge like electricity go through me, found myself literally shaken and in tears. Amazing.

That night, I had a dream in which I lingered late after a church service, and someone prayed for me, laying his hands on my head, and something coursed through my brain, sweet as honey. I felt a deep sweetness and joy course through me, in my dream. I woke happy. Wow.

Yesterday, when the rector of the church, St. Aldate’s, Charlie Cleverly, placed his hands on my head,  as in my dream, and prayed for a revelation of divine love,  I felt the electricity and power surge me, and a powerful shaking.

And Harvey Boyd prayed beautifully that my writing would be restored to me, and would flow–something I had not even asked him to pray for. Thank you, God!
P.S. It was my first week as a blogger, and I believe that prayer has been instrumental in my relative success in blogging