* Note to My Readers: Due to the busyness of the next month and a half, I'm making a few minor changes to my schedule of posting. All posts will continue to be made daily and will consist of material that has not appeared before on this blog. However, because my time will be taken up by my final thesis defense for my Master of Church History degree and by a trip to the Holy Land, several of my ongoing series will be on hold until May.

- On Wednesdays, I'll be posting some of my original poems from my college years, and then in May my "Evangeliad" poems will resume.

- On Thursdays, my series on "How to Be Miserable in Your Christian Life" will wrap up by the end of March. That will conclude that series for now; however, if you enjoyed it, please let me know, because I may add more to it at some later point.

- And on Fridays, my "Glimpses of Grace" series will be on hiatus until May. In the meantime, it will be replaced with a serialized, unpublished novella that I wrote back in 2005, "Worth It All." Beginning in the first week of May, "Glimpses of Grace" will return, this time in the Thursday slot, and a newly-composed adventure novel will be posted on Fridays.

Saturday, January 27, 2007

Old Wounds Run Deep

Old wounds run deep, my boy.

When I was your age,

The Church was not as it is now.

Ah! I can see the question in your eyes,

And I shall answer it.

We are all subject to the wrath of time, you see.

Some things we cannot see

Because we are not old enough to see,

And other things are changed by time,

So that now we see them differently

Than our fathers ever dreamed we would.

My fathers were good men,

Sons of God indeed,

But they never saw—nor wanted to see—

The unity that you and I have, my boy.

My fathers worshipped in wooden churches

Where the pulpit was in the center

And the Bible always open on that pulpit.

Your fathers worshipped in cathedrals,

With the altar in the center

And upon it the Beautiful Sacrament.

Both loved Christ,

But neither truly loved the other.

Ah! But fear not—

They shall have all eternity to learn that love,

And it will be a lesson rich in laughter.

Oh, it’s true! Do you doubt me?

There were many days when missionaries

Would plant only their own little churches,

Even if the soil was hard indeed,

And ignore the good work of the Spirit

Already begun by another church.

Another Church, you ask?

Can there be such a thing?

My boy, I am glad you live in an age

Where such questions seem reasonable.

True, we still have differences of opinion, don’t we?

We can’t all be right.

But that which divides us is not as important

As that which makes us one.

In my day there were men of fervent faith on both sides,

With righteousness as their raiment,

And grace in every word.

And I remember the joy of it all,

When we first began to realize

That we were no longer enemies.

It took a long time, it’s true.

But it was the Spirit who led us here,

He who convicted us of truth,

And He who made us one.

You see all these steeples, my boy?

These are the houses of your family.

Some things are worth fighting for,

And some things are not,

And we must discern carefully

Between the two.

But rest now, my young friend.

My ramblings have made you weary.


Oh yes, I shall see you tomorrow.

I am your neighbor after all,

And your brother

And your friend.

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