Once while I was tuned into a Christian radio station I listened as a minister of the gospel read off a number of prayer requests. Then he announced that he was going to present the requests to the Lord, asking his radio audience to join in with him. To be straight and to the point I was very surprised in the way that the man prayed over these needs. For all intents and purposes all that he did was to read them off again, and in the same rather lifeless tone of voice. But someone may wonder where the problem lies in this. My answer would be that according to his manner I highly doubt that he bled as much as a drop. But I do not judge him. Possibly his way is just a peculiar one and his heart was in fact in the right place. Whether that was the case or not is irrelevant. The point is this. There are swarms of believers who speak to God on behalf of others every day while carrying not even a splinter of their burden or having not an ounce of compassion. They pray as if under law and not under grace. A scenario may go something like this: Someone has asked if we’d pray for their need in our time with the Lord. We agree to, but is it more because we’ll feel a sense of guilt if we don’t intercede? And so we pray to escape the weight of guilt. Our objective is not so much for God to intervene – comfort, set at liberty, heal, etc., as it is to meet the obligation, ease our conscience, and rid ourselves of the thing lest it become a haunt. And in this we pray under law and not grace. Such prayers are like clouds without rain, mere formalities; they are vain exercises; they are doing the rule for the sake of the rule. Does God hear such prayers? If He looks upon the heart as we know that He does, then how can He hear them, for the heart is the very thing that is absent when we pray in this manner. But when we pray under grace and not law it is altogether different.
All those who have resigned themselves from law, from the works of the flesh, and have taken upon themselves the grace of God, who have captured it forcefully with both hands and have robed themselves in it, not with merit but with the free gift, the same are those who pray according to Spirit and Truth. There is also this wonderful feature about them. Their eyes have been opened and they have come to love those made “in the image.” They look upon people, especially those in need, at times even in rags, and in them they see the Saviour. Since they have learned to love Him, they now can love “the image.” Some may even behold shades of glory about the image that once they could not detect. And so they beseech the Holy One for them with the fervency of the inner man, with passion and delight, though also with a burden.
Does it all sound too emotional? Can we read of such intercession in the scriptures? I believe so. There is an incident in the book of Genesis when Jacob wrestles with God by way of an angel. I’m sure it is uncontested among all theologians that this is a picture of prayer. And one cannot read of this happening without realizing that every fiber of Jacob’s being was intensely at work in the encounter of his life. Next it is all but impossible to not imagine David as very emotional in his many petitions to the God whose heart he was in constant pursuit of. And I’m sure that the same mood can be detected in some New Testament prayers. Emotions will come when we bleed the crimson flow. And bleed we will when we’ve come to love “the image” as we lift it up to God. But is there any labor at all involved in our requests when we so matter-of-factly present them to the Lord? Shouldn’t prayer cost us? If not, why is it that we speak of its sacrifice? If virtuous energy doesn’t go out from us then what have we spent when we speak with Him before His throne? There He watches the output of our hearts. He takes note of the strength of its flow. Yet the spending is never in vain, and what is lost He replenishes even as the blood of the flesh. He replenishes so that we can spend and spend and spend without ceasing. Such is the practice of the one who makes war against the armies of hell and of evil.
Once in speaking with a friend he shared with me a secret about himself. He told me that he had come to the point that when he prayed for others he would in turn feel the weight of their trial. If their problem was depression, he felt that depression. If their problem was loneliness, he felt their loneliness. And so on it went. While in prayer for his brothers and sisters he felt the weight of their doubts, their fears, their confusion, worries, temptations, and we know that the list is endless. The weight that he felt was the weight of the burdens they bore. Not that it need be this way for us, but that’s how it was for him. By his sacrifice of prayer he was drawing near and taking some of their load upon himself. He was easing their pains and relieving their spirits until the day that they put their burdens down. And I’m sure that the putting down of those burdens along with the hand of God’s deliverance was the very thing that he sought his Lord for. This man knew about prayer. Sad indeed it would have been if none were helping him along his rugged path. But I do not mean by way of a quick and painless intercession, through a vain exercise or mere formality. He deserved nothing short of the spent blood of the inner man, and even as he let it flow for others.
Our heavenly Father calls us to do for one another what Christ did for the world. The cross that Jesus bore He bore for the people of the earth, for it was to us that the cross belonged, and not to Him. And His intercession to God for us while being crucified was anything but a vain exercise, costing nothing. It had cost Him untold suffering and the shedding of blood, rich to overflowing. Calvary was His interceding to the Father for a world filled with sin, and this by the sacrifice of His life. Likewise our intercession for one another must be of the same sacrifice; the bearing of each others burdens, the losing of our lives, and the flowing crimson streams; not the blood of the flesh, but that of the invincible spirit man.
As I was driving along one day, and thinking on this subject matter, the Lord gave to me a proverb: “For those who sow in blood and tears, the blossoms come up singing.”
J. Pecoraro
Monday, October 26, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
The Wild Stallion
A wild stallion once was I,
Running the grasslands, spirits high.
And though my life was filled with ease,
A greater one I could not please.
This greater one, a son of man,
Desired to put me on his land.
To break my will, and to break my heart,
And require of me my every part.
So why did I take to such a notion
Of boundless loyalty and devotion?
Had I become witless, or did I merely need change,
For life had grown wearisome on that range?
One brisk autumn morning a rider drew near,
But somehow I knew there was nothing to fear.
Unlike other times when I’d just run away,
I willfully laid down my freedom that day.
There were hard times ahead and stubborn was I
For the ways of the free do not easily die.
But my master was gentle and loving and kind
And when the task was complete there was newness of mind.
I no longer run for my own foolish pleasure.
I’ll reveal you a secret, an invaluable treasure.
A horse of the wild may run freer and faster,
But the horse that’s fulfilled is the horse with a master.
J. Pecoraro
Running the grasslands, spirits high.
And though my life was filled with ease,
A greater one I could not please.
This greater one, a son of man,
Desired to put me on his land.
To break my will, and to break my heart,
And require of me my every part.
So why did I take to such a notion
Of boundless loyalty and devotion?
Had I become witless, or did I merely need change,
For life had grown wearisome on that range?
One brisk autumn morning a rider drew near,
But somehow I knew there was nothing to fear.
Unlike other times when I’d just run away,
I willfully laid down my freedom that day.
There were hard times ahead and stubborn was I
For the ways of the free do not easily die.
But my master was gentle and loving and kind
And when the task was complete there was newness of mind.
I no longer run for my own foolish pleasure.
I’ll reveal you a secret, an invaluable treasure.
A horse of the wild may run freer and faster,
But the horse that’s fulfilled is the horse with a master.
J. Pecoraro
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The Fountain
Back in the late seventies I drove for a company located just west of Chicago’s downtown area. It was probably for a good year or two that my quitting time was somewhere between eight and nine p.m. There was one summer during those days that was as hot a summer as any I could remember. Most nights, instead of going straight home from work, I’d take a ride to the lake. There I’d usually do one of three things. Sometimes I’d just take a stroll through Grant Park. At other times, being as hot as it was, I’d simply jump in the lake and go for a swim. Yes, it was illegal to be in the water after dark, and that also meant no lifeguard. But I wasn’t always in the habit of exercising a lot of sense back then, and being a rather new Christian I still had much to learn. There was a third thing however that I use to love to do. That was to just go and hang around Buckingham Fountain for a while. Of all the attractions Chicagoland has to offer, it has always been my favorite, even from the time I was a young boy. I think that fountains in general can render a sense of peace, and even joy. But none brighten my spirit like Buckingham.
One night as I stood before the fountain something happened that I’ll never forget. If my years surpass those of Methuselah’s, even then I’d remember the night of which I’m about to tell. It began like many nights there. I was having an enjoyable time. I watched while children ran and played; listened to sounds of delight from those nearby as the fountain’s color schemes changed; then there was always the gentle lake breeze to cool and refresh. Everything was pretty much the norm, except for what would occur in just a few short minutes. It all began with the loss of water pressure which would commence each night somewhere around ten o’clock. It would take some time for the flow to come to a complete stop. Still, in the meanwhile, the crowd would begin dispersing while at some point in the shutdown the fountain’s lights would go off. But on this particular evening I suddenly had a peculiar notion. Of all the times I had been to the fountain, I thought, never was I the very last one to leave. I was determined to stand there before it until there wasn’t a single solitary soul left but me. It probably took a good fifteen to twenty minutes before that happened, though for a short time I could still hear their voices, the last of the stragglers making their way out of the park. Their sounds grew more and more faint until finally I stood before the fountain in a silence and a darkness that were unlike any I had known. It was a silence and a darkness that seemed to want to speak. As I continued gazing upon the rather sizeable structure it began to take on a very sad appearance to me. Then it was but moments and I actually began feeling like I was no longer beholding the fountain, but the fountain was beholding me. I was now starting to think that this was more than what I’d bargained for when I decided to be the last to leave. Then it happened. I heard no voice, yet it was as though the fountain spoke. It was as if it had said to me, “Where are they now? Where did they all go? When my waters flowed, how they all gathered around me. When my colors were shown to them, how they were amazed, and wanted always to remain with me. And how much I loved them. And how I loved for the children to run and play before me. But now that my waters have ceased they have all gone their own way. And now that they have witnessed my shining colors turn to darkness, amazement has left them, and they have all returned to their former states. And what about you? Will you go also?”
Immediately following this, I am to this day certain that the Spirit spoke. And what He said to me was that I had just witnessed the three year ministry of our Saviour upon the earth. He began bringing to mind how the ministry of our Lord started out with a bang - an eye-opening miracle in a town called Cana. From there it was one powerful phenomenon after the other. Soon, and great works of wonder couldn’t be counted. It was a display of heaven’s love and mercy like the world had never seen, nor has seen since. The Fountain’s springs gushed forth with a fury, and by His Father was He cloaked with all the colors of the rainbow. Surely healing was in His hands, and deliverance upon His lips.
Now there came a day quite unexpected by the people. Suddenly it seemed that waters that were once vivacious were beginning to lose their strength, while the light of the Fountain was also starting to dim. Then it wasn’t long before His healing springs flowed no more and darkness had settled in upon Him. The night had come, even as the Fountain said it would. And little by little all the people began departing from His presence. The Fountain was alone. Never was a man so alone as He was on that day. But in truth this had always been His lot, for there were none that really understood Him. However now there came to Him a forlornness that was unlike anything He had ever experienced, a heaviness of soul such as He had never felt. And what was the cause of it? It was because the time had arrived for even His Father to abandon Him. Going back to before the dawn of the worlds, He had not known the absence of the Father. But more than this it had now behooved His God to lay upon Him the rod of His chastening. This was for the great load of men’s rebellions that was put upon Him, in which He Himself took no part. Yet for this He was grievously stricken, battered and bruised, until a great debt was fully paid. And in the midst of deep sorrow, and forsaken by all, judgment was carried out until His spirit was released.
It was not the nails nor the spear, not the thorns nor the lashes. It wasn’t the beatings with fists. It wasn’t the slow and suffocating death. Neither was it the shame and humiliation which no doubt took a terrible toll on Him that day. As much as all these things made for unspeakable sufferings, they were not the cause of His deepest pain and anguish. His greatest travail stemmed from something more spiritual in nature, something far beyond what the Roman soldiers could ever inflict upon Him. It was the fact that He was cut off from His God, turned out by the Father. He who is Light and lights up all creation shined not on the Son, but gave Him over to darkness, while all heaven and earth fled from His presence. It was in this state of utter abandonment that He hung upon the tree. Still, He believed that in the end His spirit would ascend to the highest heaven, and this in fullness of glory.
Our Lord and friend, despite all that He suffered, never ceased being God incarnate. Sin then, though it was able to be set upon Him, could never be found within Him. It was therefore not possible for any grave to hold this Champion of Adam’s seed. And so three days after His expiration, He simply took up His life again. The Fountain was flowing once more. His followers saw it and were beside themselves with gladness –joy springing from hearts that as of late had grown dark. The Fountain had come back to them, and overflowing with Life. But He did not come to stay; it was only until He could inform, encourage, and speak to His people of the things that He saw His Father doing. Then one day, and before their very eyes, He lifted up His hands to bless them, and while doing so began ascending from the earth. He was seen no more.
Today is a New Day. Today the Fountain flows from the right hand of the living God. From there His waters surge forth in far greater ways than when He walked the earth. For now they move through you and through I, even through a countless number who have been born from above. From us they go out to a lost and dry and weary world, carving out their paths as they are directed from on high. Still there is a question that all who are of faith must ask themselves. Have we ceased abandoning Him? Are we so unlike the people who followed the Saviour two thousand years ago? If the lights seem to dim some, and the flow of the waters seem to lose their strength for a season, do we begin to wander from the Fountain? If the trial grows darker, and it’s hard to see a light, even at the tunnel’s end, do we stray further still? And what if we begin to notice that mere trickles are all that’s coming from the Fountain? What then? Is it time to just vacate His presence altogether? Well, that may be the natural thing to do at a fountain in a park, as I once saw happen, but it shouldn’t be so where it concerns the only true and living Fountain. Yet often times this is the choice we make. But why have the waters stopped in the first place? Is it because a time for testing has come? Or perhaps we played with sin until the cup overflowed. Or maybe it is for no other reason but that we’ve entered a dry season in the Spirit realm. No matter the cause, to remain on the straight path is imperative at this point, lest our difficulty grows more dire still, according to “Hebrews 12:12-13.” And so if we should begin cutting short our communion times with Him, or putting away our bibles when it pleases us, or if we cease gathering together with other believers, then these decisions will eventually prove tragic. For when the darkness comes, and those living waters stop, this is not the time to abandon the Fountain. It is in fact during such times that Jesus looks for some fellowship with us, not in power, nor in joy, nor in gladness of heart; but in weakness, and in tears, and in brokenness of spirit. To put it another way, it is during these dark days that He longs to fellowship with us upon a cross.
When Christians hear the word “fellowship”, we normally connect it to social activities, or maybe just getting together to shoot the breeze a while, but always we imagine a good time. And nothing is wrong with that. But this is not the only fellowship that our Saviour beckons us to. Sometimes He bids us to what the scripture calls “the fellowship of His sufferings.” This is when a believer comes to know the crucified Christ in all His distress, while in turn Christ eases the pain and affliction of the one who has joined himself to Him. In this a bond forms between the two that is as strong – if not stronger – than anything that would have united them through joyful circumstances. Think of it. It is a people who have suffered oppression at the hands of others that are most likely to band together. Normally they become supportive of each other and grow to be close-knit. But this is not so true among groups whose troubles have hardly been worth mentioning. And so to know Him in His sufferings, while He also shares in ours, is to bond with Him in a very special way. It is a mistake to abandon the Fountain when the waters stop and the lights go out. It is then that He presents to us the greater treasures. And it doesn’t matter if we don’t see or feel them right then and there. Such are the desires of the anxious and the unbelieving – of those whose walk is for the most part in the natural. But our Father in heaven longs to behold in us things of a higher nature, these being faith, trust, and a journey in spirit and in truth.
Jesus’ followers, prior to His crucifixion, lived their lives in the natural. And so they assumed that nothing of any real value could come from Him anymore since He suddenly appeared ineffective. But o how they were wrong. They missed it. The reason I know this is because on a steamy summer’s night in Chicago’s Grant Park, while I stood before a fountain engulfed in darkness, o how the Lord did speak. I heard in the darkness what He reserves only for those who hold no contempt for it, and have learned to not fear it. But those who despise it care just for the things that the Fountain does in the light. I claim no super spirituality if that’s what it seems. For He was only unfolding to me a spiritual truth by way of an analogy. But it is the real that I must fully come to grips with on my way to becoming complete in Him. After all, most grown men can stand in a literal darkness before a dead fountain. But can I abide in a greater darkness before a Fountain who for all intents and purposes seems to be dead, but in fact is very much alive? Can I learn to trust Him there, not fearing my surroundings? Moreover, can I even enjoy a transcendent fellowship with Him, though I cannot clearly behold Him? It is the one who can achieve these things that is complete in Christ.
Hear the words once penned by the apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippians: “…that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.” It is more than just knowing Him in His power and in His light. He calls us also to know Him in weakness, even in the darkness of great pain and anguish. He bids us to feel the weight of a cross, the agony of a crucifixion. Then in all this He desires to form with us a perfect union where He has been stretched out between heaven and earth – a fellowship that cannot be broken. And this becomes a power indeed – a power of another kind. It is no doubt why our brother Paul also wrote, “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
But all these things will run their course and then the morning will come. The psalmist’s words will be fulfilled: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” And on that morning the Fountain’s waters will flow with a purity and strength not known to the first creation; each cup, as it is lifted up, will overflow with the life of God. Also the Fountain’s lights will shine with an indefinable brilliance, leaving those who behold Him enraptured. Once He was abandoned, alone like no man was ever alone; but now His praises shall be greater than any man’s praises ever were, or will be again. The children will run and will play and will have great joy in His presence once more. And all the people will never cease expressing their unspeakable delights. But now He will continue in this way for ages unending. For no more will the Light of the Fountain be extinguished. Neither will the people walk away from Him in the night hours again. For the night has passed and a New Day has dawned, a Day eternal – lavishly poured out upon us by the Fountain.
J. Pecoraro
One night as I stood before the fountain something happened that I’ll never forget. If my years surpass those of Methuselah’s, even then I’d remember the night of which I’m about to tell. It began like many nights there. I was having an enjoyable time. I watched while children ran and played; listened to sounds of delight from those nearby as the fountain’s color schemes changed; then there was always the gentle lake breeze to cool and refresh. Everything was pretty much the norm, except for what would occur in just a few short minutes. It all began with the loss of water pressure which would commence each night somewhere around ten o’clock. It would take some time for the flow to come to a complete stop. Still, in the meanwhile, the crowd would begin dispersing while at some point in the shutdown the fountain’s lights would go off. But on this particular evening I suddenly had a peculiar notion. Of all the times I had been to the fountain, I thought, never was I the very last one to leave. I was determined to stand there before it until there wasn’t a single solitary soul left but me. It probably took a good fifteen to twenty minutes before that happened, though for a short time I could still hear their voices, the last of the stragglers making their way out of the park. Their sounds grew more and more faint until finally I stood before the fountain in a silence and a darkness that were unlike any I had known. It was a silence and a darkness that seemed to want to speak. As I continued gazing upon the rather sizeable structure it began to take on a very sad appearance to me. Then it was but moments and I actually began feeling like I was no longer beholding the fountain, but the fountain was beholding me. I was now starting to think that this was more than what I’d bargained for when I decided to be the last to leave. Then it happened. I heard no voice, yet it was as though the fountain spoke. It was as if it had said to me, “Where are they now? Where did they all go? When my waters flowed, how they all gathered around me. When my colors were shown to them, how they were amazed, and wanted always to remain with me. And how much I loved them. And how I loved for the children to run and play before me. But now that my waters have ceased they have all gone their own way. And now that they have witnessed my shining colors turn to darkness, amazement has left them, and they have all returned to their former states. And what about you? Will you go also?”
Immediately following this, I am to this day certain that the Spirit spoke. And what He said to me was that I had just witnessed the three year ministry of our Saviour upon the earth. He began bringing to mind how the ministry of our Lord started out with a bang - an eye-opening miracle in a town called Cana. From there it was one powerful phenomenon after the other. Soon, and great works of wonder couldn’t be counted. It was a display of heaven’s love and mercy like the world had never seen, nor has seen since. The Fountain’s springs gushed forth with a fury, and by His Father was He cloaked with all the colors of the rainbow. Surely healing was in His hands, and deliverance upon His lips.
Now there came a day quite unexpected by the people. Suddenly it seemed that waters that were once vivacious were beginning to lose their strength, while the light of the Fountain was also starting to dim. Then it wasn’t long before His healing springs flowed no more and darkness had settled in upon Him. The night had come, even as the Fountain said it would. And little by little all the people began departing from His presence. The Fountain was alone. Never was a man so alone as He was on that day. But in truth this had always been His lot, for there were none that really understood Him. However now there came to Him a forlornness that was unlike anything He had ever experienced, a heaviness of soul such as He had never felt. And what was the cause of it? It was because the time had arrived for even His Father to abandon Him. Going back to before the dawn of the worlds, He had not known the absence of the Father. But more than this it had now behooved His God to lay upon Him the rod of His chastening. This was for the great load of men’s rebellions that was put upon Him, in which He Himself took no part. Yet for this He was grievously stricken, battered and bruised, until a great debt was fully paid. And in the midst of deep sorrow, and forsaken by all, judgment was carried out until His spirit was released.
It was not the nails nor the spear, not the thorns nor the lashes. It wasn’t the beatings with fists. It wasn’t the slow and suffocating death. Neither was it the shame and humiliation which no doubt took a terrible toll on Him that day. As much as all these things made for unspeakable sufferings, they were not the cause of His deepest pain and anguish. His greatest travail stemmed from something more spiritual in nature, something far beyond what the Roman soldiers could ever inflict upon Him. It was the fact that He was cut off from His God, turned out by the Father. He who is Light and lights up all creation shined not on the Son, but gave Him over to darkness, while all heaven and earth fled from His presence. It was in this state of utter abandonment that He hung upon the tree. Still, He believed that in the end His spirit would ascend to the highest heaven, and this in fullness of glory.
Our Lord and friend, despite all that He suffered, never ceased being God incarnate. Sin then, though it was able to be set upon Him, could never be found within Him. It was therefore not possible for any grave to hold this Champion of Adam’s seed. And so three days after His expiration, He simply took up His life again. The Fountain was flowing once more. His followers saw it and were beside themselves with gladness –joy springing from hearts that as of late had grown dark. The Fountain had come back to them, and overflowing with Life. But He did not come to stay; it was only until He could inform, encourage, and speak to His people of the things that He saw His Father doing. Then one day, and before their very eyes, He lifted up His hands to bless them, and while doing so began ascending from the earth. He was seen no more.
Today is a New Day. Today the Fountain flows from the right hand of the living God. From there His waters surge forth in far greater ways than when He walked the earth. For now they move through you and through I, even through a countless number who have been born from above. From us they go out to a lost and dry and weary world, carving out their paths as they are directed from on high. Still there is a question that all who are of faith must ask themselves. Have we ceased abandoning Him? Are we so unlike the people who followed the Saviour two thousand years ago? If the lights seem to dim some, and the flow of the waters seem to lose their strength for a season, do we begin to wander from the Fountain? If the trial grows darker, and it’s hard to see a light, even at the tunnel’s end, do we stray further still? And what if we begin to notice that mere trickles are all that’s coming from the Fountain? What then? Is it time to just vacate His presence altogether? Well, that may be the natural thing to do at a fountain in a park, as I once saw happen, but it shouldn’t be so where it concerns the only true and living Fountain. Yet often times this is the choice we make. But why have the waters stopped in the first place? Is it because a time for testing has come? Or perhaps we played with sin until the cup overflowed. Or maybe it is for no other reason but that we’ve entered a dry season in the Spirit realm. No matter the cause, to remain on the straight path is imperative at this point, lest our difficulty grows more dire still, according to “Hebrews 12:12-13.” And so if we should begin cutting short our communion times with Him, or putting away our bibles when it pleases us, or if we cease gathering together with other believers, then these decisions will eventually prove tragic. For when the darkness comes, and those living waters stop, this is not the time to abandon the Fountain. It is in fact during such times that Jesus looks for some fellowship with us, not in power, nor in joy, nor in gladness of heart; but in weakness, and in tears, and in brokenness of spirit. To put it another way, it is during these dark days that He longs to fellowship with us upon a cross.
When Christians hear the word “fellowship”, we normally connect it to social activities, or maybe just getting together to shoot the breeze a while, but always we imagine a good time. And nothing is wrong with that. But this is not the only fellowship that our Saviour beckons us to. Sometimes He bids us to what the scripture calls “the fellowship of His sufferings.” This is when a believer comes to know the crucified Christ in all His distress, while in turn Christ eases the pain and affliction of the one who has joined himself to Him. In this a bond forms between the two that is as strong – if not stronger – than anything that would have united them through joyful circumstances. Think of it. It is a people who have suffered oppression at the hands of others that are most likely to band together. Normally they become supportive of each other and grow to be close-knit. But this is not so true among groups whose troubles have hardly been worth mentioning. And so to know Him in His sufferings, while He also shares in ours, is to bond with Him in a very special way. It is a mistake to abandon the Fountain when the waters stop and the lights go out. It is then that He presents to us the greater treasures. And it doesn’t matter if we don’t see or feel them right then and there. Such are the desires of the anxious and the unbelieving – of those whose walk is for the most part in the natural. But our Father in heaven longs to behold in us things of a higher nature, these being faith, trust, and a journey in spirit and in truth.
Jesus’ followers, prior to His crucifixion, lived their lives in the natural. And so they assumed that nothing of any real value could come from Him anymore since He suddenly appeared ineffective. But o how they were wrong. They missed it. The reason I know this is because on a steamy summer’s night in Chicago’s Grant Park, while I stood before a fountain engulfed in darkness, o how the Lord did speak. I heard in the darkness what He reserves only for those who hold no contempt for it, and have learned to not fear it. But those who despise it care just for the things that the Fountain does in the light. I claim no super spirituality if that’s what it seems. For He was only unfolding to me a spiritual truth by way of an analogy. But it is the real that I must fully come to grips with on my way to becoming complete in Him. After all, most grown men can stand in a literal darkness before a dead fountain. But can I abide in a greater darkness before a Fountain who for all intents and purposes seems to be dead, but in fact is very much alive? Can I learn to trust Him there, not fearing my surroundings? Moreover, can I even enjoy a transcendent fellowship with Him, though I cannot clearly behold Him? It is the one who can achieve these things that is complete in Christ.
Hear the words once penned by the apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippians: “…that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead.” It is more than just knowing Him in His power and in His light. He calls us also to know Him in weakness, even in the darkness of great pain and anguish. He bids us to feel the weight of a cross, the agony of a crucifixion. Then in all this He desires to form with us a perfect union where He has been stretched out between heaven and earth – a fellowship that cannot be broken. And this becomes a power indeed – a power of another kind. It is no doubt why our brother Paul also wrote, “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
But all these things will run their course and then the morning will come. The psalmist’s words will be fulfilled: “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” And on that morning the Fountain’s waters will flow with a purity and strength not known to the first creation; each cup, as it is lifted up, will overflow with the life of God. Also the Fountain’s lights will shine with an indefinable brilliance, leaving those who behold Him enraptured. Once He was abandoned, alone like no man was ever alone; but now His praises shall be greater than any man’s praises ever were, or will be again. The children will run and will play and will have great joy in His presence once more. And all the people will never cease expressing their unspeakable delights. But now He will continue in this way for ages unending. For no more will the Light of the Fountain be extinguished. Neither will the people walk away from Him in the night hours again. For the night has passed and a New Day has dawned, a Day eternal – lavishly poured out upon us by the Fountain.
J. Pecoraro
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
The Place Above All Others
“Jesus, when He had cried out again with a loud voice, yielded up His spirit. And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised; and coming out of the graves after His resurrection, they went into the holy city and appeared to many.”
Exciting that the earth quaked at the very time that Jesus expired upon His cross; exciting that the graves were opened and the dead were raised; and so exciting that those who were raised went into the holy city, actually appearing to the living, who knew for certain that those upon whom they looked had once died and were buried.
Personally speaking, as moving as the raising of the dead had to be, and as spectacular as the earthquake also must have been, neither of these is what thrills me most. Yet what sends a real jolt into me is the very first thing that Matthew records: “And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.” Why that, you may ask? It is because of the fact that this precise moment marked the end of a religion by which just one man would appear before God on behalf of an entire nation, and this but annually; still at the same time it signified the beginning of something far greater. In fact, just a simple “far” could never really capture the distance that God would catapult a people of faith upward. This is because the distance is immeasurable; the place to where He’d bring them - into an entirely new dimension, to the kingdom of the Son of His love. He would take us from the practice of a religion “by which nothing could ever be made perfect,” as pens the writer of Hebrews, and translate us into an inexpressible kingdom of light, where we may come to know and love the Saviour in Spirit and in Truth. It is there that perfection would be all about the God who we walk with, and the kingdom whose citizens we’ve become. To we the people that same perfection is imputed, though in us it has not yet been made wholly manifest.
There once was a time when the people of God lived o so distant from what we can enjoy today. The ordinances of the Most High were stated very clear and to the point. Once each year would His high priest go beyond the veil, and never without blood. He would enter a very feared and sacred sanctuary past the holy place. There in the holy of holies, he would for himself and for every descendent of Abraham, offer up the blood of a slain animal to the Almighty One of Israel. This would cover all the transgressions of an entire nation for the year past. And year after year this ceremonial act needed to be repeated, along with numerous others. Over a span of many centuries did Israel serve Jehovah God in such a manner. The endless repetitions were only saying that all of these activities could never be enough. And why? It was because they were not the real thing. They fell short. They were imperfect. In fact, they would serve only as types and shadows of the Real. They were adequate simply to the point of shielding the sins of the people from their Creator, and that just from one year to the next. But in the fullness of time God sent forth His Son. He, the Substance, and not the shadows, was what all of the former rituals pointed ahead to for well over a millennium. His was the true blood of the covenant. It was this blood and no other that the Father waited to receive in the holy of holies that is not of this world. And on the day that He saw its crimson flow cover the earth from where man was once taken, two great hands descended to part the veil with a terrible rending. Yes, amidst the earth quaking and the graves opening up, the Father had along with these split the veil, making clear the way to the holy of holies for every soul born of faith. No longer would it be that a single priest enter in one time yearly (at least this was not recognized any longer in heaven). But now we have heard from John the revelator that our God has made of all His children an entire nation of priests, and not only priests, but kings, a change of infinite proportions from how it had formerly been.
The ways of the Almighty transcend the imaginations of men, looming large even in the heavens. For when He had rent the veil it was no small statement He was making, since along with this occurrence go marvelous blessings: Now, instead of only the high priest of Israel accessing the most holy place but one time each year, every son and daughter of God can enter as often as he or she desires. To add, there would be no ritualistic duties to be carried out, and this in great fear of an error being made. But our communion with Him there, would be strictly from the heart, His words to us being fear not. Also we wouldn’t have to leave this sacred place at an appointed time, as is the nature of ritual. On the contrary we can remain with the Triune God as long as we have a mind and a heart to remain. And certainly there would have to be more than one holy of holies, as was so in the old world. Then there was but a single high priest to perform his duties there, and so there would be no need to have more than one sanctuary set apart for the occasion. But in the day in which we live our Heavenly Father has begotten a countless number of sons and daughters, all His ministers. Each He calls to intimacy with Him. But how can there be intimacy unless He has designed for every one their own sacred room in which to meet with Him, a secret place, a personal dwelling for every believer to speak with the God of heaven and earth? Consequently these rooms are now beyond number, as I’ve already stated that His changes are of infinite proportions, not only in this, but in all of His works from the Old to the New.
Now a question may arise. Where exactly can all of these holy sanctuaries be found? Where is it that the children can meet with the One whose very name is Holy? One may say that his study is where he meets with God; another may tell of how she loves to go to the garden of a nearby park and pray; still another may like the nicely furnished room in the attic, constructed just for this purpose. It is okay to recognize a certain location as our own personal meeting place with the Lord. I however believe that all such places serve more as symbols and representations of the real sanctuary where we enter God’s presence. For I am convinced that the true sanctuary is the same place for all of us, yet each person’s is different. It is the heart - the very center of our being; the unseen man. From there we communicate with the Lord. And so we may speak with Him wherever we go. We do not need to be in this location or that, for He has done a marvelous thing. He has built these inner tabernacles into His people. Even as He had instructed Moses in how to build the tabernacle in the wilderness, so has He designed man after the pattern of that same tabernacle, we however being the real and the true living temples. The Old Testament tabernacle was only the shadow of the real, which was yet to come. The real would be of materials alive and not dead, fashioned by God and not man. The real - it is we the church, the heirs of the kingdom.
In the tabernacle in the wilderness there was the holy place, and still further in there was the holy of holies. So it is today with His people. We are told that our bodies have become temples of the living God, and holy they must be kept. Still, as true as this is, the eyes of the Lord are more upon that inner chamber, that quiet place beyond the veil of the flesh. That place is the heart. For as our knowing of Him is there - in the sanctuary hidden away - so will it eventually become with the whole man. Therefore His eyes are on the heart, where intimacy must ever grow with the Father and the Son. For this reason we have become acquainted with words such as these: “For man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts… ” “Let the peace of God rule in your hearts…” And Jesus Himself said, “The kingdom of God is within you.” The sanctuary of the heart is where we abide with the God of the highest heavens. It is why so many passages in scripture admonish us to keep the heart clean. And so God has undoubtedly created man as a temple in which He could abide. Holy - the body - and most holy - the heart - are His tabernacles in every believing son and daughter.
Jesus, the eternal Son, also needed to become a living temple unto His Father upon entering our world. But before He could enjoy eternal life, love, and peace in that temple, it was first necessary for it to undergo utter destruction. Therefore He spoke these words to the One who He ever sees: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body You have prepared for Me. In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin You had no pleasure. Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come - in the volume of the book it is written of Me - to do Your will, O God.’”
It is the writer of Hebrews, however, who as I see it, draws the clearest parallel between the human body and the outer and inner tabernacles of the Old Testament. Moreover he skillfully achieves this in two short verses: “Therefore, brethren, having boldness to enter the Holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He consecrated for us, through the veil, that is, His flesh…” The only conclusion to be drawn here is that through the veil, which is our flesh, lies the true inner tabernacle of the believer; it is greater than any sanctuary; it is our own secret place where we come to meet with, and ever know the Father and the Son. Not only this, but it is a quite special knowing that takes place here, for it happens through the Spirit, and not by the flesh. He has opened up a way for us to come to Him. And from there our God reigns; and it has become a living place, alive by and through His Spirit.
When a man and his wife join hands together to pray, I’m sure this is precious in the sight of the Lord. And no doubt He desires this in every marriage. Nevertheless, this kind of communion doesn’t rise up from out of one’s secret place. When we come together with a brother or a sister to agree upon something before the Father, once again He looks upon it with great delight. But neither do these words ascend into heaven from that intimate sanctuary. If we should be one of a dozen or so people, who have come to unite in one Spirit, to bring before the Lord many needs, no doubt the Almighty is again well pleased. But as in the other cases such prayer does not occur within that personal and sacred tabernacle. For whenever the high priest met with the God of Israel in the holy of holies, never could a second man enter along with him. Surely it would have been unthinkable. And from the Old to the New this has not changed. Therefore it is only when we meet with Him alone, and only then, that we enter what has been set apart just for us. There we will at times speak to Him concerning things of a private nature, things we may have never spoken much about to anyone - not a spouse, child, or best friend. Here seclusion and nearness to Him create an atmosphere that totally envelops the Father and His child, making it to be a meeting unlike any other.
Speaking for myself, I believe that it is in this inviolable chamber that we become born unto Him. I believe this is so due to the very personal nature of the moment. Who does it really belong to but the one being birthed, and He who has now become Abba Father? Who else has any real part in the earnest petition that makes us His? The answer is none but the one who has presently bowed before Him. It is here that our life with Him begins - life eternal as a child and heir of a kingdom that will never pass away. In that room it begins, and it should always be that place that we hold more dear and more sacred than anywhere else. It is ours forever, to be with Him alone.
When we are abiding in the holy of holies it is altogether different than being in any other place. There we belong just to Him and never to another. We are not our wife’s or our husband’s, not our son’s or our daughter’s, not a friend’s or a relative’s, when we are shut in alone with He who has fashioned us according to His knowledge and desire. There we are His solely, for Him to know and to love. He likewise belongs only to us, and for the same purpose. That time can become transcendent. In such a case it may be necessary to remove far from our hearts and minds all that is of this earth, whether it be people, places, things, or anything that may diminish the strength of perfect union between the Potter and His vessel. There may arise an instance when we will feel moved to not just spiritually but physically escape to an environment alienated from things worldly in nature. Doing so will always prove conducive in preparing the heart for a meeting with the Triune God.
Once in watching an old movie I became a bit swept away by one of its scenes. A young couple had just gotten married and they hurried away to a solitary place. They seemed to be in the midst of a magically serene woodland. As the woman overlooked it from a high point she spoke poetically of its charm, its loveliness and its beauty, and of a stillness that defied description. Then as if in a trance she said these words: “It’s like the end of the world here.” It was sometime later that I thought about that scene; now a question arose. If such a place, being of this earth, could offer all the wonder of which the young lady spoke, then how much more should our quiet place with God, since it is above this world? Once we truly become established there, and have learned to settle in, how much more peace and comfort, joy and bliss, should our secret place with Him afford, since it is beyond the earthly plane? Is it not the place above all others? While in my thoughts of this I began to put these words to a poem.
Fly To The End Of The World
When the terrors and troubles and trials of life
Swiftly at me are hurled,
Then will my spirit sprout wings like a dove
And fly to the end of the world.
At the end of the world is a wilderness
Where all is beautifully still,
And nothing is heard but silence
So that I may learn His will.
There is no place like the end of the world
For the Spirit meets you there,
And you and He in a fellowship sweet
Know never a load of care.
Upon His holy bosom
At ease He sets your soul,
As He sings a song of glory
That makes all within you whole.
And when I leave that sacred place
I am given a fresh new start,
Hope in a new beginning,
A willing and steadfast heart.
Then into the battle once more I ride
Wielding a powerful sword,
To fight for what’s right and for glory,
To fight with the risen Lord.
J. Pecoraro
Exciting that the earth quaked at the very time that Jesus expired upon His cross; exciting that the graves were opened and the dead were raised; and so exciting that those who were raised went into the holy city, actually appearing to the living, who knew for certain that those upon whom they looked had once died and were buried.
Personally speaking, as moving as the raising of the dead had to be, and as spectacular as the earthquake also must have been, neither of these is what thrills me most. Yet what sends a real jolt into me is the very first thing that Matthew records: “And behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.” Why that, you may ask? It is because of the fact that this precise moment marked the end of a religion by which just one man would appear before God on behalf of an entire nation, and this but annually; still at the same time it signified the beginning of something far greater. In fact, just a simple “far” could never really capture the distance that God would catapult a people of faith upward. This is because the distance is immeasurable; the place to where He’d bring them - into an entirely new dimension, to the kingdom of the Son of His love. He would take us from the practice of a religion “by which nothing could ever be made perfect,” as pens the writer of Hebrews, and translate us into an inexpressible kingdom of light, where we may come to know and love the Saviour in Spirit and in Truth. It is there that perfection would be all about the God who we walk with, and the kingdom whose citizens we’ve become. To we the people that same perfection is imputed, though in us it has not yet been made wholly manifest.
There once was a time when the people of God lived o so distant from what we can enjoy today. The ordinances of the Most High were stated very clear and to the point. Once each year would His high priest go beyond the veil, and never without blood. He would enter a very feared and sacred sanctuary past the holy place. There in the holy of holies, he would for himself and for every descendent of Abraham, offer up the blood of a slain animal to the Almighty One of Israel. This would cover all the transgressions of an entire nation for the year past. And year after year this ceremonial act needed to be repeated, along with numerous others. Over a span of many centuries did Israel serve Jehovah God in such a manner. The endless repetitions were only saying that all of these activities could never be enough. And why? It was because they were not the real thing. They fell short. They were imperfect. In fact, they would serve only as types and shadows of the Real. They were adequate simply to the point of shielding the sins of the people from their Creator, and that just from one year to the next. But in the fullness of time God sent forth His Son. He, the Substance, and not the shadows, was what all of the former rituals pointed ahead to for well over a millennium. His was the true blood of the covenant. It was this blood and no other that the Father waited to receive in the holy of holies that is not of this world. And on the day that He saw its crimson flow cover the earth from where man was once taken, two great hands descended to part the veil with a terrible rending. Yes, amidst the earth quaking and the graves opening up, the Father had along with these split the veil, making clear the way to the holy of holies for every soul born of faith. No longer would it be that a single priest enter in one time yearly (at least this was not recognized any longer in heaven). But now we have heard from John the revelator that our God has made of all His children an entire nation of priests, and not only priests, but kings, a change of infinite proportions from how it had formerly been.
The ways of the Almighty transcend the imaginations of men, looming large even in the heavens. For when He had rent the veil it was no small statement He was making, since along with this occurrence go marvelous blessings: Now, instead of only the high priest of Israel accessing the most holy place but one time each year, every son and daughter of God can enter as often as he or she desires. To add, there would be no ritualistic duties to be carried out, and this in great fear of an error being made. But our communion with Him there, would be strictly from the heart, His words to us being fear not. Also we wouldn’t have to leave this sacred place at an appointed time, as is the nature of ritual. On the contrary we can remain with the Triune God as long as we have a mind and a heart to remain. And certainly there would have to be more than one holy of holies, as was so in the old world. Then there was but a single high priest to perform his duties there, and so there would be no need to have more than one sanctuary set apart for the occasion. But in the day in which we live our Heavenly Father has begotten a countless number of sons and daughters, all His ministers. Each He calls to intimacy with Him. But how can there be intimacy unless He has designed for every one their own sacred room in which to meet with Him, a secret place, a personal dwelling for every believer to speak with the God of heaven and earth? Consequently these rooms are now beyond number, as I’ve already stated that His changes are of infinite proportions, not only in this, but in all of His works from the Old to the New.
Now a question may arise. Where exactly can all of these holy sanctuaries be found? Where is it that the children can meet with the One whose very name is Holy? One may say that his study is where he meets with God; another may tell of how she loves to go to the garden of a nearby park and pray; still another may like the nicely furnished room in the attic, constructed just for this purpose. It is okay to recognize a certain location as our own personal meeting place with the Lord. I however believe that all such places serve more as symbols and representations of the real sanctuary where we enter God’s presence. For I am convinced that the true sanctuary is the same place for all of us, yet each person’s is different. It is the heart - the very center of our being; the unseen man. From there we communicate with the Lord. And so we may speak with Him wherever we go. We do not need to be in this location or that, for He has done a marvelous thing. He has built these inner tabernacles into His people. Even as He had instructed Moses in how to build the tabernacle in the wilderness, so has He designed man after the pattern of that same tabernacle, we however being the real and the true living temples. The Old Testament tabernacle was only the shadow of the real, which was yet to come. The real would be of materials alive and not dead, fashioned by God and not man. The real - it is we the church, the heirs of the kingdom.
In the tabernacle in the wilderness there was the holy place, and still further in there was the holy of holies. So it is today with His people. We are told that our bodies have become temples of the living God, and holy they must be kept. Still, as true as this is, the eyes of the Lord are more upon that inner chamber, that quiet place beyond the veil of the flesh. That place is the heart. For as our knowing of Him is there - in the sanctuary hidden away - so will it eventually become with the whole man. Therefore His eyes are on the heart, where intimacy must ever grow with the Father and the Son. For this reason we have become acquainted with words such as these: “For man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts… ” “Let the peace of God rule in your hearts…” And Jesus Himself said, “The kingdom of God is within you.” The sanctuary of the heart is where we abide with the God of the highest heavens. It is why so many passages in scripture admonish us to keep the heart clean. And so God has undoubtedly created man as a temple in which He could abide. Holy - the body - and most holy - the heart - are His tabernacles in every believing son and daughter.
Jesus, the eternal Son, also needed to become a living temple unto His Father upon entering our world. But before He could enjoy eternal life, love, and peace in that temple, it was first necessary for it to undergo utter destruction. Therefore He spoke these words to the One who He ever sees: “Sacrifice and offering you did not desire, but a body You have prepared for Me. In burnt offerings and sacrifices for sin You had no pleasure. Then I said, ‘Behold, I have come - in the volume of the book it is written of Me - to do Your will, O God.’”
It is the writer of Hebrews, however, who as I see it, draws the clearest parallel between the human body and the outer and inner tabernacles of the Old Testament. Moreover he skillfully achieves this in two short verses: “Therefore, brethren, having boldness to enter the Holiest by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way which He consecrated for us, through the veil, that is, His flesh…” The only conclusion to be drawn here is that through the veil, which is our flesh, lies the true inner tabernacle of the believer; it is greater than any sanctuary; it is our own secret place where we come to meet with, and ever know the Father and the Son. Not only this, but it is a quite special knowing that takes place here, for it happens through the Spirit, and not by the flesh. He has opened up a way for us to come to Him. And from there our God reigns; and it has become a living place, alive by and through His Spirit.
When a man and his wife join hands together to pray, I’m sure this is precious in the sight of the Lord. And no doubt He desires this in every marriage. Nevertheless, this kind of communion doesn’t rise up from out of one’s secret place. When we come together with a brother or a sister to agree upon something before the Father, once again He looks upon it with great delight. But neither do these words ascend into heaven from that intimate sanctuary. If we should be one of a dozen or so people, who have come to unite in one Spirit, to bring before the Lord many needs, no doubt the Almighty is again well pleased. But as in the other cases such prayer does not occur within that personal and sacred tabernacle. For whenever the high priest met with the God of Israel in the holy of holies, never could a second man enter along with him. Surely it would have been unthinkable. And from the Old to the New this has not changed. Therefore it is only when we meet with Him alone, and only then, that we enter what has been set apart just for us. There we will at times speak to Him concerning things of a private nature, things we may have never spoken much about to anyone - not a spouse, child, or best friend. Here seclusion and nearness to Him create an atmosphere that totally envelops the Father and His child, making it to be a meeting unlike any other.
Speaking for myself, I believe that it is in this inviolable chamber that we become born unto Him. I believe this is so due to the very personal nature of the moment. Who does it really belong to but the one being birthed, and He who has now become Abba Father? Who else has any real part in the earnest petition that makes us His? The answer is none but the one who has presently bowed before Him. It is here that our life with Him begins - life eternal as a child and heir of a kingdom that will never pass away. In that room it begins, and it should always be that place that we hold more dear and more sacred than anywhere else. It is ours forever, to be with Him alone.
When we are abiding in the holy of holies it is altogether different than being in any other place. There we belong just to Him and never to another. We are not our wife’s or our husband’s, not our son’s or our daughter’s, not a friend’s or a relative’s, when we are shut in alone with He who has fashioned us according to His knowledge and desire. There we are His solely, for Him to know and to love. He likewise belongs only to us, and for the same purpose. That time can become transcendent. In such a case it may be necessary to remove far from our hearts and minds all that is of this earth, whether it be people, places, things, or anything that may diminish the strength of perfect union between the Potter and His vessel. There may arise an instance when we will feel moved to not just spiritually but physically escape to an environment alienated from things worldly in nature. Doing so will always prove conducive in preparing the heart for a meeting with the Triune God.
Once in watching an old movie I became a bit swept away by one of its scenes. A young couple had just gotten married and they hurried away to a solitary place. They seemed to be in the midst of a magically serene woodland. As the woman overlooked it from a high point she spoke poetically of its charm, its loveliness and its beauty, and of a stillness that defied description. Then as if in a trance she said these words: “It’s like the end of the world here.” It was sometime later that I thought about that scene; now a question arose. If such a place, being of this earth, could offer all the wonder of which the young lady spoke, then how much more should our quiet place with God, since it is above this world? Once we truly become established there, and have learned to settle in, how much more peace and comfort, joy and bliss, should our secret place with Him afford, since it is beyond the earthly plane? Is it not the place above all others? While in my thoughts of this I began to put these words to a poem.
Fly To The End Of The World
When the terrors and troubles and trials of life
Swiftly at me are hurled,
Then will my spirit sprout wings like a dove
And fly to the end of the world.
At the end of the world is a wilderness
Where all is beautifully still,
And nothing is heard but silence
So that I may learn His will.
There is no place like the end of the world
For the Spirit meets you there,
And you and He in a fellowship sweet
Know never a load of care.
Upon His holy bosom
At ease He sets your soul,
As He sings a song of glory
That makes all within you whole.
And when I leave that sacred place
I am given a fresh new start,
Hope in a new beginning,
A willing and steadfast heart.
Then into the battle once more I ride
Wielding a powerful sword,
To fight for what’s right and for glory,
To fight with the risen Lord.
J. Pecoraro
Monday, April 20, 2009
The Old Woman and the Devil
I was born in an old, inner city neighborhood, just outside downtown Chicago, where I lived until I was eight years old. In those days none of the residents of that area had any real money to brag about, as is not the case today. And so I guess you can say that I made a rather humble entrance into the world, that being in the first year of the baby boom which immediately followed World War II. Consequently the streets were full of kids when I was growing up. My neighborhood was one largely dominated by Italian-Americans. Though there was no shortage of children on any given block then, there was one boy in particular that I loved being with more than all of the rest. His name was Charlie LaCoco. I guess you can say that he was my first and closest friend. I lived near to the west end of 24th place, between Wentworth and Princeton, and Charlie lived on the east end of the street, but on the same side as me. Almost all of the buildings on the block were three flats. They were what both Charlie and I called home. However it was the way in which his building and my own were situated that led to one of my earliest and most unpleasant memories.
At the time I was only about four years of age, but surely no older than five. In a small bungalow, about midway down the street, there lived an old woman and her husband. No doubt they had come over from the old country, as did all in our community who were elderly. Their house was one that I could not help but pass whenever I would go to call on Charlie. Almost always, when the weather was favorable, the two could be found sitting on their front porch. I was afraid to death to pass that house when they were outside. And considering my tender age I feel that the reason for my fear was well-founded. For as I would approach the old woman’s house, never did she fail to start down the stairs. Then pointing her finger at me, she would tell me in her broken English manner of speech that she would catch me some day and make soup out of me.
I’m sure that one’s initial response in hearing this would be to have a bit of a laugh, thinking that the old lady was just having some fun. But even then I was aware of how older folk would joke with little kids in this way. However it was usually when they knew them well, and then there would always follow a smile or some laughter. At least the first couple of times this occurred I remember waiting for the smile to come, or maybe a few pleasant words signifying that it was all in fun. A smile never came. Nor were there any further words ever spoken. She would only turn slowly back toward the house with the same evil expression that she left her porch with, and start up the stairs again. She’d then take a seat beside her husband who only watched on with a rather blank stare. The little bungalow was set back from the sidewalk a short distance, so that normally she didn’t advance right up to where I was. But on one or two occasions, being bold, she came up to the sidewalk, forcing me to hurry into the street in order to pass her house. This was a woman who was not out to innocently have a bit of fun with small children because she loved them. This was a disturbed human being, possibly even engaged in the black arts, as many were who came over from Italy in those days. And let me tell you, that when a four year old boy is threatened by an old wrinkled, wretched looking woman, wearing the same black and shabby, full-length dress each day, and appearing like a witch from a children’s fairy tale, he will believe whatever he’s told. I actually felt that if she ever got her hands on me, that I would become dinner. I was petrified.
I am not one who puts much trust in modern day psychiatry. Although a lot of it seems to just be common sense. For instance, I feel sure that the experiences of our formative years, depending on their impact, will shape the person we grow to be. I see this to be a solid truth. I have reason to believe that the encounters that I had with the old woman on 24th place played a big part in implanting fears in me that remain today, fear that comes by way of the lie, through the art of deception. Of course I long ago did away with the notion that people may be heating me up on their kitchen stove one day. You see, the lies change as we grow and mature, but the liar remains the same. And so I can become very afraid at times, when I know that my enemy is knocking on the door, with a well planned strategy to deceive and unnerve me. The temptation is to open the door quickly and get on with it. But I must be still. I must not react. For he is prepared and I may not be quite suited for what he has conjured up. I must calm myself. I must not let myself be drawn out to him. It could be devastating. The effects may last for days. I need to meet him at the moment that I choose, and not at the time set by him. It is wise first to strengthen myself in my God, to become robed in His Spirit, and to decide tactics and a strategy of my own. Then I will sense when he has grown frustrated and discouraged, his strength beginning to leave him. Now I am the one filled with power and might and wisdom. I open the door to meet my enemy. He proves to be no match for the one whom the Lord has prepared. There are times however when I hear the awful knock, and I do not resist my first inclination, which is always to step outside. Though I am afraid, I want nothing more than to get it under way and over with. Almost always I am brought to my knees by devilish lies and human fears. Now subject to torments, I’ll remain so until the arrival of the Saviour, who none beneath the highest heavens can ever hope to war against.
It was some months ago that I was driving down Lake Shore Drive while on my job and I acted hastily against the demon who knows me well, though not as well as my God and Maker. I stood in need of being rescued from the lies which he had bound me up with. The Captain of my soul came to me quickly that day. And these were His words: “Joe, oh Joe; remember the old woman on 24th pl.? It’s only her all over again.“ He went on to tell me how that all of the lies that the dark ones have ever fed me were simply the old woman again. She was the one who long ago was used of them to lay a foundation for what they would later build upon. These were their orders from the one whom they serve. My eyes became more opened that day. I learned a little something more of just how the powers of darkness operate. After I had finished my next delivery in the downtown area of Chicago, I read the signature of the man who accepted the package. Upon reading his name it confirmed to me that surely it was the Lord who had spoken just a short while earlier. He had signed his name, “Eddie Paul.” This was a name that I hadn’t heard in many years. Eddie Paul was a young boy about five years older than myself, who if my memory serves me right, lived only a couple of buildings before the old woman’s house. When I read the man’s signature I was amazed that this name was now appearing before me. Eddie Paul, you see, was a boy who was the very antithesis of the old woman. Possibly even more than being with my friend Charlie did I love just being in the presence of Eddie Paul. Most of the boys on the block who were of Eddie’s age were at least a bit on the troublesome side, but Eddie was a genuinely good kid. Often he’d call me up to where he’d sit out on his front steps and he would talk with me awhile. Most of the time he would tell me stories. They were usually based on the popular fairy tales of that era, but with a lot of his own imagination thrown in. Eddie Paul was never anything but good, kind, and encouraging to me, not to mention entertaining. Whenever I was with him I’d feel like I could easily spend the entire day just listening to what he had to say. For beyond being a good storyteller, he seemed to have wisdom, and a knowledge of things that other kids his age lacked. I remember always hating to leave his house to go home.
As in disbelief I continued looking at his name on the delivery ticket. Then the Lord spoke again. He was reminding me of how love and kindness, of how goodness and light, always rule over fear, darkness, lies, and Satan’s entire domain. He was saying that when the evils of Satan and his lawless forces seem to rise up before me, and cause me to fear, that I should consider the Eddie Pauls of this world. He was telling me of the many such as Eddie who are with me, and not against me, who support me in prayer, as I do them. He was bringing to mind His warring angels, who know who I am, who stand beside me to defend me and deliver me. And all this was to say nothing of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. When they are for us, wrote the great apostle of God, who can be against us?
What is our problem then? Why is it that the enemies of heaven seem to so easily defeat us at times? It is because the devil, and all who rally together under his banner, are good bluffs. They are like mad dogs, but without teeth. In fact, that is pretty much how I remember the old woman. If she had any teeth, they must have been only a few, and surely not healthy enough to really take a bite into solid food. No wonder it was soup that was on her mind. Satan is a lot like she was. He knows the milk Christian from the meat Christian. He’d have quite an easy time with those who can only take in milk if God’s protective hand wasn’t upon His babes. But His elder sons, who being more mature feed on meat, always give the old serpent a rough go of it. And why? Because we all know that gums by themselves cannot do much of a job with meat. And gums is all that he has. For one day, on a mount called Calvary, all of his teeth were pulled; three days later he was declawed; and sometime after he was forced to surrender the keys of hell to the King of kings. No keys, no claws, no teeth. But here’s what he does have. He is an excellent con; a very believable bluff; and the greatest of all liars. Consequently, if he should succeed in persuading us, though they be but gums, they sure can hurt. And so, for the time, Jehovah gives him room still. This is to test us, so the Lord can show us where we stand, and if we have learned anything as of late. I cannot count the times that I was left not only defeated, but downcast, discouraged, and heavy hearted, after discovering I was not the person I thought. However the main thing is to never give up. This the Lord finds honorable. It is better to go home to be with the Father while in the process of still looking for the victory, than to return to Him without the towel used for wiping away the blood, the sweat, and the tears, since it had been thrown into the ring, possibly long ago.
Once I worked in a Christian rehabilitation center. It was a program for believers with addictions, only for adult males. For seven years I held bible studies with the men, men who over the course of my stay there I grew to love like my own brothers. And this in fact was what they were. These were sons of God and soldiers of the Most High, but who once were mislead, lied to, and deceived, until they were at their wit’s end. Many of them saw me as one wise and strong, as somebody to pattern themselves after. But they did not know of the many times when I had thrown my sword to the ground, and with tears streaming went running for the bosom of the Father. Never did I tell them of it, lest they would only wonder of what chance there could be for them. And concerned for them as I was, I was afraid of stripping away the small hope that many had, by highlighting all my defeats. But it was not for me to judge myself before these men anyway. Only the Almighty knows this vessel of His, and how I have fared in encounters with demons. Before Him alone I have stood or I have fallen. And I believe He has caused me to stand. But even inside the greatest of warriors there yet remains the young and tender boy, who from time to time is found weeping by God when he feels the battle has grown too difficult for so long.
There is a Day however that every man and woman of faith looks ahead to. It is called “the Day of the Lord.” I can only imagine that its high point will be when Christ our King sets down upon this world with an innumerable heavenly army following behind. It will be then that He will subdue all the nations and bring them under His rule, a rule long envisioned and dreamt of by all who love the Son of man, and the righteousness of God. Now is the great victory of our God and Saviour. I firmly believe that though the Day of the Lord will belong solely to the Lord, it will also be every believer’s Day, all who have followed Him. It will be the Day in which all of our humiliating encounters, discouraging defeats, and darkest hours, will be swallowed up in one great victory. Not so much our victory as His, but we are all of one Body together. And from this time on, whether it be faith or whether it be love, whether it be life or whether it be light, whether it be power or whether it be victory, they shall never elude us again.
J. Pecoraro
At the time I was only about four years of age, but surely no older than five. In a small bungalow, about midway down the street, there lived an old woman and her husband. No doubt they had come over from the old country, as did all in our community who were elderly. Their house was one that I could not help but pass whenever I would go to call on Charlie. Almost always, when the weather was favorable, the two could be found sitting on their front porch. I was afraid to death to pass that house when they were outside. And considering my tender age I feel that the reason for my fear was well-founded. For as I would approach the old woman’s house, never did she fail to start down the stairs. Then pointing her finger at me, she would tell me in her broken English manner of speech that she would catch me some day and make soup out of me.
I’m sure that one’s initial response in hearing this would be to have a bit of a laugh, thinking that the old lady was just having some fun. But even then I was aware of how older folk would joke with little kids in this way. However it was usually when they knew them well, and then there would always follow a smile or some laughter. At least the first couple of times this occurred I remember waiting for the smile to come, or maybe a few pleasant words signifying that it was all in fun. A smile never came. Nor were there any further words ever spoken. She would only turn slowly back toward the house with the same evil expression that she left her porch with, and start up the stairs again. She’d then take a seat beside her husband who only watched on with a rather blank stare. The little bungalow was set back from the sidewalk a short distance, so that normally she didn’t advance right up to where I was. But on one or two occasions, being bold, she came up to the sidewalk, forcing me to hurry into the street in order to pass her house. This was a woman who was not out to innocently have a bit of fun with small children because she loved them. This was a disturbed human being, possibly even engaged in the black arts, as many were who came over from Italy in those days. And let me tell you, that when a four year old boy is threatened by an old wrinkled, wretched looking woman, wearing the same black and shabby, full-length dress each day, and appearing like a witch from a children’s fairy tale, he will believe whatever he’s told. I actually felt that if she ever got her hands on me, that I would become dinner. I was petrified.
I am not one who puts much trust in modern day psychiatry. Although a lot of it seems to just be common sense. For instance, I feel sure that the experiences of our formative years, depending on their impact, will shape the person we grow to be. I see this to be a solid truth. I have reason to believe that the encounters that I had with the old woman on 24th place played a big part in implanting fears in me that remain today, fear that comes by way of the lie, through the art of deception. Of course I long ago did away with the notion that people may be heating me up on their kitchen stove one day. You see, the lies change as we grow and mature, but the liar remains the same. And so I can become very afraid at times, when I know that my enemy is knocking on the door, with a well planned strategy to deceive and unnerve me. The temptation is to open the door quickly and get on with it. But I must be still. I must not react. For he is prepared and I may not be quite suited for what he has conjured up. I must calm myself. I must not let myself be drawn out to him. It could be devastating. The effects may last for days. I need to meet him at the moment that I choose, and not at the time set by him. It is wise first to strengthen myself in my God, to become robed in His Spirit, and to decide tactics and a strategy of my own. Then I will sense when he has grown frustrated and discouraged, his strength beginning to leave him. Now I am the one filled with power and might and wisdom. I open the door to meet my enemy. He proves to be no match for the one whom the Lord has prepared. There are times however when I hear the awful knock, and I do not resist my first inclination, which is always to step outside. Though I am afraid, I want nothing more than to get it under way and over with. Almost always I am brought to my knees by devilish lies and human fears. Now subject to torments, I’ll remain so until the arrival of the Saviour, who none beneath the highest heavens can ever hope to war against.
It was some months ago that I was driving down Lake Shore Drive while on my job and I acted hastily against the demon who knows me well, though not as well as my God and Maker. I stood in need of being rescued from the lies which he had bound me up with. The Captain of my soul came to me quickly that day. And these were His words: “Joe, oh Joe; remember the old woman on 24th pl.? It’s only her all over again.“ He went on to tell me how that all of the lies that the dark ones have ever fed me were simply the old woman again. She was the one who long ago was used of them to lay a foundation for what they would later build upon. These were their orders from the one whom they serve. My eyes became more opened that day. I learned a little something more of just how the powers of darkness operate. After I had finished my next delivery in the downtown area of Chicago, I read the signature of the man who accepted the package. Upon reading his name it confirmed to me that surely it was the Lord who had spoken just a short while earlier. He had signed his name, “Eddie Paul.” This was a name that I hadn’t heard in many years. Eddie Paul was a young boy about five years older than myself, who if my memory serves me right, lived only a couple of buildings before the old woman’s house. When I read the man’s signature I was amazed that this name was now appearing before me. Eddie Paul, you see, was a boy who was the very antithesis of the old woman. Possibly even more than being with my friend Charlie did I love just being in the presence of Eddie Paul. Most of the boys on the block who were of Eddie’s age were at least a bit on the troublesome side, but Eddie was a genuinely good kid. Often he’d call me up to where he’d sit out on his front steps and he would talk with me awhile. Most of the time he would tell me stories. They were usually based on the popular fairy tales of that era, but with a lot of his own imagination thrown in. Eddie Paul was never anything but good, kind, and encouraging to me, not to mention entertaining. Whenever I was with him I’d feel like I could easily spend the entire day just listening to what he had to say. For beyond being a good storyteller, he seemed to have wisdom, and a knowledge of things that other kids his age lacked. I remember always hating to leave his house to go home.
As in disbelief I continued looking at his name on the delivery ticket. Then the Lord spoke again. He was reminding me of how love and kindness, of how goodness and light, always rule over fear, darkness, lies, and Satan’s entire domain. He was saying that when the evils of Satan and his lawless forces seem to rise up before me, and cause me to fear, that I should consider the Eddie Pauls of this world. He was telling me of the many such as Eddie who are with me, and not against me, who support me in prayer, as I do them. He was bringing to mind His warring angels, who know who I am, who stand beside me to defend me and deliver me. And all this was to say nothing of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. When they are for us, wrote the great apostle of God, who can be against us?
What is our problem then? Why is it that the enemies of heaven seem to so easily defeat us at times? It is because the devil, and all who rally together under his banner, are good bluffs. They are like mad dogs, but without teeth. In fact, that is pretty much how I remember the old woman. If she had any teeth, they must have been only a few, and surely not healthy enough to really take a bite into solid food. No wonder it was soup that was on her mind. Satan is a lot like she was. He knows the milk Christian from the meat Christian. He’d have quite an easy time with those who can only take in milk if God’s protective hand wasn’t upon His babes. But His elder sons, who being more mature feed on meat, always give the old serpent a rough go of it. And why? Because we all know that gums by themselves cannot do much of a job with meat. And gums is all that he has. For one day, on a mount called Calvary, all of his teeth were pulled; three days later he was declawed; and sometime after he was forced to surrender the keys of hell to the King of kings. No keys, no claws, no teeth. But here’s what he does have. He is an excellent con; a very believable bluff; and the greatest of all liars. Consequently, if he should succeed in persuading us, though they be but gums, they sure can hurt. And so, for the time, Jehovah gives him room still. This is to test us, so the Lord can show us where we stand, and if we have learned anything as of late. I cannot count the times that I was left not only defeated, but downcast, discouraged, and heavy hearted, after discovering I was not the person I thought. However the main thing is to never give up. This the Lord finds honorable. It is better to go home to be with the Father while in the process of still looking for the victory, than to return to Him without the towel used for wiping away the blood, the sweat, and the tears, since it had been thrown into the ring, possibly long ago.
Once I worked in a Christian rehabilitation center. It was a program for believers with addictions, only for adult males. For seven years I held bible studies with the men, men who over the course of my stay there I grew to love like my own brothers. And this in fact was what they were. These were sons of God and soldiers of the Most High, but who once were mislead, lied to, and deceived, until they were at their wit’s end. Many of them saw me as one wise and strong, as somebody to pattern themselves after. But they did not know of the many times when I had thrown my sword to the ground, and with tears streaming went running for the bosom of the Father. Never did I tell them of it, lest they would only wonder of what chance there could be for them. And concerned for them as I was, I was afraid of stripping away the small hope that many had, by highlighting all my defeats. But it was not for me to judge myself before these men anyway. Only the Almighty knows this vessel of His, and how I have fared in encounters with demons. Before Him alone I have stood or I have fallen. And I believe He has caused me to stand. But even inside the greatest of warriors there yet remains the young and tender boy, who from time to time is found weeping by God when he feels the battle has grown too difficult for so long.
There is a Day however that every man and woman of faith looks ahead to. It is called “the Day of the Lord.” I can only imagine that its high point will be when Christ our King sets down upon this world with an innumerable heavenly army following behind. It will be then that He will subdue all the nations and bring them under His rule, a rule long envisioned and dreamt of by all who love the Son of man, and the righteousness of God. Now is the great victory of our God and Saviour. I firmly believe that though the Day of the Lord will belong solely to the Lord, it will also be every believer’s Day, all who have followed Him. It will be the Day in which all of our humiliating encounters, discouraging defeats, and darkest hours, will be swallowed up in one great victory. Not so much our victory as His, but we are all of one Body together. And from this time on, whether it be faith or whether it be love, whether it be life or whether it be light, whether it be power or whether it be victory, they shall never elude us again.
J. Pecoraro
Monday, March 16, 2009
Faith –High Into The Blue, and Beyond
Faith is more than just believing in God for a miracle. Over that it is our residence in the Spiritual realm. An article: Faith-high into the blue and beyond.
Always do we underestimate the unsurpassable greatness of faith, that which soars high into the blue, and then beyond. How far beyond? Further than we may realize, since it ascends into infinity. It meets God where He lives, and there the unthinkable happens; the unspeakable clears for itself a path. But we His people ever sell it short. We begin to contemplate the evil we have done, the darkness yet present within us, and transgressions that inevitably lie in the future. Then in all this we condemn our soul. We forget, or worse, have never understood, that faith far overrides every past, present, and future infraction of the believing child of God. Faith totally obliterates every work of darkness spawned from out of our hearts and minds, and moreover, eliminates every righteous work born of the light, when they rise up in attempts to justify us. Every work of darkness, more evil than we can imagine, and every labor of the light, no matter how great, are neutralized together, brought to nothing, and in the eyes of God stripped of all power and influence, when they are set up against the heart whose journey is by faith. Faith transcends both the good and the evil. Faith moves God. It moves Him from His place. When we take hold of Him through faith He is suddenly surprised; He is impressed. When we grasp His heart and wrench it, He is stirred, and amazed, and wonders over us. He is moved from His place, yet to His delight.
But just how great is our faith towards Him? Does it wrestle with Him until the dawn is awakened, so that His cry to us is “Let Me go for the day breaks!”? How mighty is the working of our faith? Do we overcome Him by it like Jacob of old? Not that we are greater than He, but He allows for Himself to be jostled by the heart that believes all things. He lets Himself become seized and shaken as a father who play wrestles with his young one, for he loves him so. Yes, faith is the thing that can stand alone and yet give pleasure to the King of the universe. He is not awestruck by the worst evils or the highest good, whether they be of men or angels, for He knows the works that every created soul is capable of. But it is by faith that He is disengaged from where He stands fixed; and it is when we move into the sphere of faith, and take up residence there, that we interact with Jehovah God as a full grown son with his father, a son who brings great pleasure.
Faith is a language; it is the language that the Almighty understands. He shares the innermost things with the one who lives there. As those upon a high mountain peak look down at the foothills, so does faith look upon the doings of men. Faith enters into secret places and truly sees that “all things are possible with God,“ for faith knows that “His understanding is infinite,” that “His judgments are unsearchable, and that His ways are past finding out.” Faith is the key that unlocks the door that leads back to beyond the beginning, when all that existed was light and truth and eternal Spirit. Faith sees God face to face and lives, though not in the flesh. Faith moves the mountains that are truly of old, those which were established by the morning stars on the day that they chose their allegiances. Faith has no limits as do deeds; its grounds of operation are infinity. There it sees all things; there it lives where it desires; there it loves and meets every need; there its joy is light inextinguishable; its peace is eternally flowing rivers; and its praises are forever; they are forever and forever; they are forever without end.
J. Pecoraro
Always do we underestimate the unsurpassable greatness of faith, that which soars high into the blue, and then beyond. How far beyond? Further than we may realize, since it ascends into infinity. It meets God where He lives, and there the unthinkable happens; the unspeakable clears for itself a path. But we His people ever sell it short. We begin to contemplate the evil we have done, the darkness yet present within us, and transgressions that inevitably lie in the future. Then in all this we condemn our soul. We forget, or worse, have never understood, that faith far overrides every past, present, and future infraction of the believing child of God. Faith totally obliterates every work of darkness spawned from out of our hearts and minds, and moreover, eliminates every righteous work born of the light, when they rise up in attempts to justify us. Every work of darkness, more evil than we can imagine, and every labor of the light, no matter how great, are neutralized together, brought to nothing, and in the eyes of God stripped of all power and influence, when they are set up against the heart whose journey is by faith. Faith transcends both the good and the evil. Faith moves God. It moves Him from His place. When we take hold of Him through faith He is suddenly surprised; He is impressed. When we grasp His heart and wrench it, He is stirred, and amazed, and wonders over us. He is moved from His place, yet to His delight.
But just how great is our faith towards Him? Does it wrestle with Him until the dawn is awakened, so that His cry to us is “Let Me go for the day breaks!”? How mighty is the working of our faith? Do we overcome Him by it like Jacob of old? Not that we are greater than He, but He allows for Himself to be jostled by the heart that believes all things. He lets Himself become seized and shaken as a father who play wrestles with his young one, for he loves him so. Yes, faith is the thing that can stand alone and yet give pleasure to the King of the universe. He is not awestruck by the worst evils or the highest good, whether they be of men or angels, for He knows the works that every created soul is capable of. But it is by faith that He is disengaged from where He stands fixed; and it is when we move into the sphere of faith, and take up residence there, that we interact with Jehovah God as a full grown son with his father, a son who brings great pleasure.
Faith is a language; it is the language that the Almighty understands. He shares the innermost things with the one who lives there. As those upon a high mountain peak look down at the foothills, so does faith look upon the doings of men. Faith enters into secret places and truly sees that “all things are possible with God,“ for faith knows that “His understanding is infinite,” that “His judgments are unsearchable, and that His ways are past finding out.” Faith is the key that unlocks the door that leads back to beyond the beginning, when all that existed was light and truth and eternal Spirit. Faith sees God face to face and lives, though not in the flesh. Faith moves the mountains that are truly of old, those which were established by the morning stars on the day that they chose their allegiances. Faith has no limits as do deeds; its grounds of operation are infinity. There it sees all things; there it lives where it desires; there it loves and meets every need; there its joy is light inextinguishable; its peace is eternally flowing rivers; and its praises are forever; they are forever and forever; they are forever without end.
J. Pecoraro
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Great Spirit Ocean
Who is the Holy Spirit? There is more than one symbol used in the scriptures that tells us of who He is and what He’s about. There is for instance the Dove. The Dove speaks of the Spirit’s gentleness and His peace-like nature. There is fire. The fire conveys to the Christian a type of power, a power that at times overwhelms us. It burns in the very center of our being in accordance with our faith, and therefore can cause us to become great in word and in deed. We mustn’t forget the Wind. The Wind portrays the mystique of the Holy Spirit, and indeed He is mysterious. Jesus compared the Spirit to the mystery of the wind when describing to Nicodemus that holy birth given from above: “The wind blows where it wishes,” he said, “and you can hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.” The peaceful and gentle Dove, the all consuming Fire, the mysterious Wind. We call this imagery, and it is this imagery that gives us a glimpse into the nature of the One we call the Holy Spirit.
Yet the imagery that I have found to be my very favorite cannot be discovered in the scriptures. It is however certainly biblical. Though it would reveal the Spirit’s peace, its consummation of us, and its mystique, these are not its emphasis. Its emphasis is the Spirit’s infinity, yet all of the Spirit’s attributes are to be found in the picture. I believe that the imagery of which I speak was given me of the Spirit, and I have come to cherish it to this day. I once envisioned an infinite ocean – a sunlit infinite ocean of peace and love and joy, and really every good gift that comes down from “the Father of lights.” Not on the north, or the south, or the east, or the west, was there seen a shore. Likewise there existed no floor to the Great Ocean. It did however have one border. The Ocean ended at the top, I guess is a way of putting it. Yes, the Ocean’s only border was the surface. But the surface is needed since this is the Ocean that we are baptized down into when we are baptized into God’s Holy Spirit. It is much different than being baptized into water. When we are baptized into water, the water is physical and without life. Also it has borders, even if they are not within our view. But when we are baptized into the Holy Spirit of God the waters are spiritual and altogether alive. These are the living waters that we read of in the scriptures. To add, there are no borders, since this Ocean is God the Holy Spirit, and all who believe in Him and know Him also know that He is from everlasting to everlasting.
It is a very sad thing that the average Pentecostal believes that speaking in tongues signifies that the baptism of the Spirit has been made complete. But the fact of the matter is that this great baptism is never made complete. For what the first step of a never ending journey is to the remainder of the journey, so is the experience of speaking in other tongues to this Spirit baptism. It is only one of the very first things to occur, yet we make it to cover the length and breadth of our adventure. This I say because we use the terms “tongues,” and “baptism of the Holy Spirit,” interchangeably, as though there is no difference at all between the two. But I repeat, “tongues,” is only a small part of this experience. It occurs when we first go under the surface of the waters, being as I said, one of the very first things to occur. That is why we often hear it referred to as the “initial evidence of the baptism of the Holy Spirit.” However, from that point God wants to move us on; He wants to take us deeper under the surface. He wants us to come to know Him down in the depths of His Spirit – an intimate knowing of Him.
There are many Christians who speak with other tongues whose lives all but fall apart in times of trials. When the stormy tempestuous winds blow they are tossed to and fro. Why is this? It’s because they have never ventured very far down beneath the surface of the waters, where they had first received the gift of tongues. And don’t we all know how the waters at the surface get tossed about during the times of great gales? Since those waters are the spiritual lodging places of many, the many are tossed about. However, the waters far down under are not moved at all. When the fierce winds blow, the waters of the deep remain still and calm, and full of peace. Likewise, those who know their God in the depths of this Spirit Ocean are still and at peace during the dark and threatening days of their lives. This is why our Lord was so calm during the storm on the Sea of Galilee, as opposed to His disciples, who were frantic with fear. Their lodging places were on the surface of the waters in those days, and it was those very same disturbed waters that were actually symbolizing who they were.
There is a very important factor about this Ocean that makes it different than any ocean of our Earth. The further down you descend in any of the oceans of our world, the darker it becomes, for we are going further away from the sun. On the contrary, the further we go into the great Spirit Ocean, the lighter it becomes. For now we draw ever more near to the True Light of the world, of which the sun is only in some ways a type. Also we become engulfed in the “Father of Lights.” And do they not speak of the knowledge of Him? Oh the joy and the power of the waters made alive by His Spirit! And their length and breadth are from everlasting to everlasting. Praise Him; praise Him for the life eternal that He bestows upon those who call on Him, whoever descends to know the heart of the Father in the fullness of understanding. Other tongues? We’ve only just begun, as a lady once sang. We have only broken the ocean’s surface. And the surface waters will always afford us many wonderful pleasures in our God. But they should not become our lodging place. For the Ocean is great. And where can its boundaries be discovered? Let us not be afraid to know Him in the deep.
J. Pecoraro
Feb. 10th, 2009
Yet the imagery that I have found to be my very favorite cannot be discovered in the scriptures. It is however certainly biblical. Though it would reveal the Spirit’s peace, its consummation of us, and its mystique, these are not its emphasis. Its emphasis is the Spirit’s infinity, yet all of the Spirit’s attributes are to be found in the picture. I believe that the imagery of which I speak was given me of the Spirit, and I have come to cherish it to this day. I once envisioned an infinite ocean – a sunlit infinite ocean of peace and love and joy, and really every good gift that comes down from “the Father of lights.” Not on the north, or the south, or the east, or the west, was there seen a shore. Likewise there existed no floor to the Great Ocean. It did however have one border. The Ocean ended at the top, I guess is a way of putting it. Yes, the Ocean’s only border was the surface. But the surface is needed since this is the Ocean that we are baptized down into when we are baptized into God’s Holy Spirit. It is much different than being baptized into water. When we are baptized into water, the water is physical and without life. Also it has borders, even if they are not within our view. But when we are baptized into the Holy Spirit of God the waters are spiritual and altogether alive. These are the living waters that we read of in the scriptures. To add, there are no borders, since this Ocean is God the Holy Spirit, and all who believe in Him and know Him also know that He is from everlasting to everlasting.
It is a very sad thing that the average Pentecostal believes that speaking in tongues signifies that the baptism of the Spirit has been made complete. But the fact of the matter is that this great baptism is never made complete. For what the first step of a never ending journey is to the remainder of the journey, so is the experience of speaking in other tongues to this Spirit baptism. It is only one of the very first things to occur, yet we make it to cover the length and breadth of our adventure. This I say because we use the terms “tongues,” and “baptism of the Holy Spirit,” interchangeably, as though there is no difference at all between the two. But I repeat, “tongues,” is only a small part of this experience. It occurs when we first go under the surface of the waters, being as I said, one of the very first things to occur. That is why we often hear it referred to as the “initial evidence of the baptism of the Holy Spirit.” However, from that point God wants to move us on; He wants to take us deeper under the surface. He wants us to come to know Him down in the depths of His Spirit – an intimate knowing of Him.
There are many Christians who speak with other tongues whose lives all but fall apart in times of trials. When the stormy tempestuous winds blow they are tossed to and fro. Why is this? It’s because they have never ventured very far down beneath the surface of the waters, where they had first received the gift of tongues. And don’t we all know how the waters at the surface get tossed about during the times of great gales? Since those waters are the spiritual lodging places of many, the many are tossed about. However, the waters far down under are not moved at all. When the fierce winds blow, the waters of the deep remain still and calm, and full of peace. Likewise, those who know their God in the depths of this Spirit Ocean are still and at peace during the dark and threatening days of their lives. This is why our Lord was so calm during the storm on the Sea of Galilee, as opposed to His disciples, who were frantic with fear. Their lodging places were on the surface of the waters in those days, and it was those very same disturbed waters that were actually symbolizing who they were.
There is a very important factor about this Ocean that makes it different than any ocean of our Earth. The further down you descend in any of the oceans of our world, the darker it becomes, for we are going further away from the sun. On the contrary, the further we go into the great Spirit Ocean, the lighter it becomes. For now we draw ever more near to the True Light of the world, of which the sun is only in some ways a type. Also we become engulfed in the “Father of Lights.” And do they not speak of the knowledge of Him? Oh the joy and the power of the waters made alive by His Spirit! And their length and breadth are from everlasting to everlasting. Praise Him; praise Him for the life eternal that He bestows upon those who call on Him, whoever descends to know the heart of the Father in the fullness of understanding. Other tongues? We’ve only just begun, as a lady once sang. We have only broken the ocean’s surface. And the surface waters will always afford us many wonderful pleasures in our God. But they should not become our lodging place. For the Ocean is great. And where can its boundaries be discovered? Let us not be afraid to know Him in the deep.
J. Pecoraro
Feb. 10th, 2009
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