Gentle Reader,
Gentle piano music weaves its way in and out of my ears. Maltbie D. Babcock wrote a hymn over a century ago. It’s become one of my favorites in recent days.
This is my Father’s world,
And to my listening ears
All nature sings, and round me rings
The music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world:
I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas–
His hand the wonders wrought.
We’ve been talking about holiness. Want. Freedom. Gifts.
Today, imagination.
Do you think imagination plays a role in both our desire for holiness and our cooperation with God in becoming holy?
I do.
We have to imagine what the world and us in it would be like if Genesis 3 never happened. Note that I said imagine. I am not an advocate for denying reality. Sometimes life plain sucks. Faith is God is not an escape from suffering, nor is it an invitation to don rose-colored glasses. Imagination and denial are not the same.
So, imagine. Think about what it would be like to sit beside still waters on a clear day. There’s no time limit restricting your sitting. There’s no pollution clouding the skies above. What do you see? What do you hear? How do you feel?
This is my Father’s world:
The birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white,
Declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world:
He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass,
He speaks to me everywhere.
A life of holiness is one that dares to imagine. One that dares to believe that God will be faithful to God’s promise to redeem and restore all of creation. That this is not how it’s supposed to be, and that there is better. More. And that better and more is not found in accumulating money, possessions, power, influence. It’s found in God. Not what can do, although God certainly does much for us. The presence of God. The fact of God being here and now in this moment, enabling you to see beyond reality – again, not denying it – and to catch glimpses of what will be.
This is my Father’s world:
O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong,
God is the Ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world:
Why should my heart be sad?
The Lord is King: let the heavens ring!
God reigns; let earth be glad!
The wrong does seem strong. In fact, the wrong is strong. But can you imagine a day when the wrong no longer is? When children don’t go to bed hungry? When cancer is erased from memory? When women are no longer abused?
Imagine it.
What do you see? What do you hear? How do you feel?
It’s probably a little fuzzy, your imagination. Even on our best days, we have trouble really picturing a world of true peace and unending beauty. Part of us is always waiting for the other shoe to drop. That’s part of being human.
For now we see only a reflection, as in a mirror, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known.
– 1 Corinthians 13:12 (NRSV)
But don’t stop imagining. Don’t stop picturing it. Don’t stop reaching for it. Holding onto the vision of that peaceful, beautiful, God-lit world is part of holy living. We believe that that world will be. We get to be signposts pointing the way to that world right now as we work to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, create space at tables for those who have been left out, and whatever else it is that the Spirit of God prompts us to do each day.
And when it’s hard to imagine, because the diagnosis came or the relationship ended, ask God to help you keep imagining. Ask a friend to imagine for you for awhile, until you can again. Just don’t give up your imagination entirely. Let yourself think of the restored and redeemed world. See yourself sitting beside the still waters.
Christ is right there beside you.
One day, it will be reality.
And you won’t even be able to imagine anything else.
GRACE AND PEACE ALONG THE WAY,
MARIE
Image Courtesy of Wren Meinberg