Posts filed under: Pursuing Christ

There is something astonishing to me – and, I now see, thrilling – whenever the Scriptures say that Jesus “marveled” over something. That God the Son should be filled with wonder, or astonishment, or surprise is in itself a marvel.

He marveled at the Centurion’s faith. This Roman soldier’s faith, a Gentile, was greater than any He had seen in Israel. Why? Because, unlike the Jewish elders, whose argument for Jesus to come help him was his worthiness, he knew himself to be unworthy. And he understood the power of word/command and Jesus’ authority to accomplish His will by them.

So the slave is healed. Luke gives us no other response from Jesus other than His expression of wonder. There is no healing command mentioned. The messengers go home, and find the slave in good health.

I think I am more like the Jews than the Roman soldier.

Now when Jesus heard this, He marveled at him, and turned and said to the crowd that was following Him, “I say to you, not even in Israel have I found such great faith.”

Luke 7:9

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Praying that, if ever I begin to more fully tell of the Primary Teller, I never, ever mistake the telling for the thing told.

Every poet and musician and artist, but for Grace, is drawn away from love of the thing he tells to love of the telling till, down in Deep Hell, they cannot be interested in God at all but only in what they say about Him.C.S. Lewis

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“All flesh is grass,” Isaiah says. Or God says.

All flesh is grass, and all its loveliness is like the flower of the field.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
When the breath of the Lord blows upon it;
Surely the people are grass.
Isaiah 40:6-7

We whither. We fade.

“As summer flowers we fade and die / Fame, youth and beauty hurry by /But life eternal calls to us / At the cross.” **

Yet, look at this purple coneflower hanging out in my garden. Is it so bad to be compared to something like this? Or this 20160805-172726_22hosta blossom?

In one fell swoop, one simple, raw, and natural image, the testimony of Scripture is of both the tender fragility and unspeakable beauty of human life.

** “My Worth Is Not In What I Own”, by Keith and Kristyn Getty and Graham Kendrick


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