Reading at the Wade

Time and Place: Saturdays, 10 - 11 a.m. meeting room, The Marion E. Wade Center, corner of Washington and Lincoln, Wheaton, Il.

Texts: Dorothy Sayers: Letters to a Diminished Church. Nelson
J.R.R. Tolkien: The Return of the King. Del Rey.
__________: The Tolkien Reader. Del Rey.

Description: The Return of the King is the third of three volumes that compose Tolkien's famous The Lord of the Rings trilogy. It presents the epic battles that finally defeat the forces of Sauron, the heroic struggle of Frodo to destroy the ring, and the party's return to the shire. "On Fairy Stories" is Tolkien's famous and provocative essay offering penetrating insights into his thought and intentions in his writings, and "Leaf by Niggle" is a mythic exploration of end-of-life issues.

In Letters to a Diminished Church Dorothy Sayers startles her readers into considering afresh the central doctrines of the Christian faith, developing a perspective upon Christian truth which is uniquely hers.

Readings:
September 24: Overview of first two volumes of The Lord of the Rings

October 1: Return of the King, Book V, Chapters 1 - 3

8: Book V, Chapters 4 - 10
15: Book VI, Chapters 1 - 4
22: Book VI, Chapters 5 - end.
29: Reader, "On Fairy Stories"

November 5: "Leaf by Niggle"
12: Sayers, Letters, pp. 1 - 33
19: Pp. 35 - 71
26: No Session

December 3: Pp. 73 - 107
10: Pp. 109 - 146
17: Pp 147 - 201.

Underhill.Part II. Chapter 4

In her chapter "The Illumination of the Self" Underhill presents this phase of mystic experience as "a form of mental life, a kind of perception, radically different from that of 'normal' men, which is peculiar to mystics" and, she claims, some artists. For the Christain mystic, illumination is an exalted state of consciousness in which the individual enjoys a period of loving and joyous relation with God. In the chapters that follow she discusses the various ways in which illumination occurs: receiving visions, hearing voices, and so forth.

Mystic experiences seem to be cyclic. From the initial awakening discussed in Chapter Two the individual passes through successive periods of purgation and illumination, spiraling upward, as it were, to ever more complete states of union with God.

When the soul is normally "absorbed in the illusions of sense" the "eye which looks on Eternity is idle." But, quoting Plotinus: "when we do behold Him, we attain the end of our existence and our rest. Then we no longer sing out of tune, but form a truly divine chorus about Him; in which chorus dance the soul beholds the Fountain of life the Fountain of intellect, the Principle of Being, the cause of good the root of soul." Underhill remarks, "Such a beholding, such a lifting of consciousness from a self-centred to a God-centred world, is of the essence of illumination (160).

Achieving a more vivid consciousness of God than is enjoyed by the average Christian is a matter of perception, of seeing what is normally hidden but is truly there. One is reminded to Christ's remarks in the Sermon on the Mount, "The eye is the lamp of the body. So, if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light, but if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light in you is darkness, how great is the darkness" (Matt. 6:22,23). The context in which Christ said this suggests that a person's darkness is occasioned by concerns with wealth and daily cares.

Underhill includes in the chapter several quotations taken from the writings of those mystics who have recorded some of their experiences, and I will not try to copy many here. The quotation from William Blake on p. 161 gives his commitment to communicating something of his visions in his engravings and his exceedingly demanding poetry. Blake insists that "the doors of perception" must be cleansed in order to see all things as they are, infinite. For the mystic this cleansing involves the purgation which was treated in Chapter Three.

Underhill remarks: "It is in these descriptions of the joy of illumination--in the outpourings of love and rapture belonging to this state--that we find the most lyrical passages of mystical literature. Here poet, mystic, and musician are on common ground: for it is only by the oblique methods of the artist, by the use of aesthetic suggestion and mystical rhythm, that the wonder of that vision can be expressed. When essential goodness, truth, and beauty--Light, Life, and Love--are aprehended by the heart, whether the heart be that of poet, painter, lover, or saint, that apprehension can only be communicated in a living, that is to say, artistic form" (163). That musical utterance is essential to any attempt at communication suggests why, in the Book of Revelation, for instance, the redeemed are so often represented as singing.

On p. 167, St. Bernard, in the lengthy testimony of his experiences, insists upon their ineffable quality. One is reminded of St. Paul saying that, on the occasion of his mystical experience, he "heard things that are not to be told, that no mortal is permitted to repeat" (II Cor. 12:4).

For some, illuminations take the form of having an altered view of the natural world; that is, one's eyes are opened to see that the goodness and glory of God permeates the natural world and everyday life. "The world is charged with the grandeur of God / It will flame out, like shining from shook foil . . . ." Gerard Hopkins exults in his fine sonnet, "God's Grandeur." Thomas Traherne in the 17th Century wrote: "Your enjoyment of the world is never right till every morning you awake in heaven; see ourself in our Father's palace; and look upon the skies, the earth, and the air as celestial joys. . . ." (from Centuries of Meditations).

Such perception is motivated by love for God and in turn increases one's love for him. Underhill remarks: "By that synthesis of love and will which is the secret of the heart, the mystic achieves a level of perception in which the whole world is seen and known in God, and God is seen and known in the whole world. It is a state of exalted emotion: being produced by love, of necessity it produces love in its turn" (180).

George MacDonald: Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood

Annals of a Quiet Neighborhood, published in 1867, is the first of three novels by George MacDonald about the fictitious Rev. Harry Walton, a parish priest of the Church of England. After the remarkable success of such early novels Scottish novels as David Elginbrod (1863) and Alec Forbes of Howglen (1865), MacDonald, now well established in London as a rising young novelist, turns to write a story with a purely English setting.





The prevalent theme in MacDonald's early novels is that of acquiring an education and proper orientation to life, and here he concerns himself with a cleric who is learning how to become an effective minister. Written in the first person, the story presents Rev. Walton, now aged, recalling his learning experiences in his first full-fledged pastoral charge. "I had formerly officiated as curate in a proprietary chapel," he recalls (that is, he acted as a chaplain to a family of sufficient means to have their own curate). "Alas, I had now to preach . . . to a company of rustics, of thought yet slower than of speech, unaccustomed in fact to think at all. . . ." He has considerable lessons to learn of the quality of ordinary people.





One cannot but ask why MacDonald, who as a Scottish Presbyterian was raised in the dissenting tradition, educated at Highbury Congregational Seminary in London, and served for three years as pastor to a Congregational flock in the southern coastal town of Arundel, would undertake to write about a cleric in the Church of England. Why not write about a dissenting pastor?





It is true that, attracted to the ministry of F. D. Maurice in London, he joined the Church of England in 1866, no doubt while he was writing this novel, so he can now presume to speak as a member of that denomination. But, alas, he has a quarrel with the priesthood. "For the priesthood passes away," Walton remarks," "the brotherhood endures. The priesthood passes away, swallowed up in the brotherhood. It is because men cannot learn simple things, cannot believe in the brotherhood, that they need a priesthood. . . . And I, for one, am sure that the priesthood needs the people much more than the people needs the priesthood (22)." The priesthood, in other words, however necessary, is not in itself desireable.





One has but to consider the role of the priest in MacDonald's time to understand his sentiment. The priest was too often simply a sort of social leader. From the upper classes, trained at Oxford, a young man, choosing from among the professions, could see the priesthood as a desireable choice: acting as a role model of the English gentleman, his presence would be expected at dinner parties and balls, and his duties amounted to little more than reading Sunday services and preparing short, anemic homilies. The nineteenth century English novels, such as those of Jane Austen or of Anthony Trollope, afford one notable examples.





MacDonald wants to speak to this situation, illustrating what a priest should be. The tact and winsomeness with which he undertakes his task, attempting to recommend a very different model, is fascinating. Note how he gently begins in the opening paragraph of the first chapter. Having supposed himself "a mere onlooker" to life, Walton recalls how "the compulsion of my office," "the leading of my heart," and "destiny" drew him into "the very vortex of events."


He identifies his "destiny" is the engulfing love of God which "to us is known as an infinite love, revealed in the mystery of man." The concept of the love of God being revealed in the mystery of man is profound and beautiful. Why did God create man? Simply to bestow his love upon him. This is the destiny of all peoples: all are objects of the passionate love of God. To express this truth is the compulsion of his office and the reason for his undertaking to speak from his heart to that of his readers. The calling of the priesthood is to secure the recognition and acceptance of that love by individual hearts.



Rev. Walton has learned to make a firm distinction between describing externals and speaking "heart to heart." The former constitutes a "vision"; the latter a "revelation." The former speaks only to the intellect, and the intellect but considers and judges. It is the heart that receives, and receiving is transformed into a new creature in Christ. Revelations to the heart preclude all deceiving appearances and impact one's innermost being with truth.



Walton learned the importance of this distinction from early experience, for in his former position as "curate in a proprietary chapel" he "had been inclined to exalt the intellect at the expense of the heart" (7). In his writings GMD often makes this point: it is in the threefold relationship of God, others, and self that a person encounters reality and the truths of life are grasped, rather than supposing that the intellect is autonomous and the abstract systems of thought it devises are authoritative.



From his two initial encounters in the village of Marshmallows he learns two foundational truths for his ministry. From Old Rogers he acquires the first lesson: it is of vital importance to the laity that the priest be the same person in the pulpit as he is out of it. And from the naive remark of a little child he learns the importance of seeing his office as one of working with God: ". . . if any man's work is not with God, its results shall be burned, ruthlessly burned, because poor and bad" (16). For everything that happens in life--not just occasional occurrences--is providential.

The chapter closes repeating the idea of the opening paragraph: that true meaning and worth in life arises, not from intellectual analysis, but from relationships. Providence presented Rev. Walton, on his first day in Marshmallows, with "an old man whom I could help, and a child who could help me; the one opening an outlet for my labour and my love, and the other reminding me of the highest source of the most humbling comfort,--that in all my work I might be a fellow-worker with God" (17).

After his first Sunday in the pulpit, in which he feels the intense scrutiny of this people, he ventures into the village to to make individual calls. As one would expect, each of those he meets--the woman of strange reserve in her shop, Old Rogers and those of his family in the mill, Weir the carpenter fashioning his sister's coffin, Mrs Oldcastle and her grand daughter, and Mr. Brownrigg the church warden--will all figure in the episodes that are to follow, as Rev. Walton continues to learn from his experiences what it truly means to be a faithful priest.

The Peace of God

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you . . . .Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid" (John 14:27). God intends that we rest in Him and are possessed by His peace. As Augustine famously observed, our hearts are restless until we rest in Him. How do we avail ourselves of this peace? The key is the commitment of complete trust. We receive God's peace as we realize afresh that we are completely in Him and engulfed in His love.

Again, one's self is the problem. To desire peace simply as a possession of the self--something we covet and want to own--is subtly but terribly to miss the point and remain in doubt and restlessness. As in all aspects of our relationship with God, complete surrender and trust are the indispensable elements. To place one's self afresh in the body of Christ and rest completely in Him ("abide in me," Christ commands) is the way into the peace that He bestows.

Garden Critters

These shots were taken by Mary Brown

More Garden Pictures

These shots were taken by Stephanie Larson

These shots were taken by Mary Brown:

George MacDonald: "Tell Me"

I was freshly struck by this poem of GMD"s, "Tell Me":

"Traveller, what lies over the hill?
Traveller, tell to me:
Tip-toe-high on the window sill
Over I cannot see."


"My child, a valley green lies there,
Lovely with trees, and sky'
And a tiny brook that says, 'Take care,
Or I'll drown you by and by!'"

"And what comes next?"--"A little town,
And a towering hill again;
More hills and valleys up and down,
And a river now and then."

"And what comes next?"--"A lonely moor
Without one beaten way,
And slow clouds drifting dull before
A wind that will not stay."

"And then?"--"Dark rocks and yellow sand,
Blue sea and a moaning tide."
"And then?"--"More sea, and then more land,
With rivers deep and wide."

"And then?"--"Oh, rock and mountain and vale,
Ocean and shores and men,
Over and over, a weary tale,
And round to your home again!"

"And that is all? From day to day,
Like one with a long chain bound,
Should I walk and walk and not get away,
But go always round and round?"

"No, no; I have not told you the best,
I have not told you the end.
If you want to escape, away in the west
You will see a stair ascend,

"Built of all colours of lovely stones,
A stair up into the sky
Where no one is weary, and no one moans,
Or wishes to be laid by."

"Is it far away?"--"I do not know:
You must fix your eyes thereon,
And travel, travel through thunder and snow,
Till the weary way is gone.

"All day, though you never see it shine,
You must travel nor turn aside,
All night you must keep as straight a line
Through moonbeams or darkness wide."

"When I am older!"--"Nay, not so!"
"I have hardly opened my eyes!"
"He who to the old sunset would go,
Starts best with the young sunrise."

"Is the stair right up? Is it very steep?"
"Too steep for you to climb;
You must lie at the foot of the glorious heap
And patient wait your time."

"How long?"--"Nay, that I cannot tell."
"In wind, and rain, and frost?"
"It may be so; and it is well
That you should count the cost.

"Pilgrims from near and from distant lands
Will step on you lying there;
But a wayfaring man with wounded hands
Will carry you up the stair."
--George MacDonald

Books Authored

I have authored or edited the following books:



(Ed.) Life Essential: The Hope of the Gospel. 1974. Regent, 2004.


(Ed.) Creation in Christ: The Unspoken Sermons of George MacDonald. 1976. Regent, 2004.

(Ed.) The Miracles of Our Lord. Harold Shaw, 1980.

The Harmony Within: The Spiritual Vision of George MacDonald. 1982, 1989. Rev. ed., Cornerstone of Chicago, 1999.

George MacDonald: Victorian Mythmaker. 1993. Johannesen, 1999.

The Heart of George MacDonald: An Anthology. 1994, Regents, 2004.

(Ed.) Lilith: A Variorum Edition. 2 vols. Johannesen, 1997.

Christian Mythmakers. Cornerstone of Chicago, 1998. Rev. ed., 2002.

George MacDonald: Images of his World. A pictorial biography, with pictures taken by Prof. Larry E. Fink of Hardin-Simmons University. Pasture Springs Press, 2004.

Growing with My Garden: Thoughts on Tending the Soil and the Soul. Cornerstone of Chicago, 2004.

As I See It

Christian experience is primarily relational, not simply intellectual. An individual self enters by faith commitment into a new relation with God and, as a consequence, an entirely altered relation to others.



Christian commitment begins with a total capitulation to the claims of God upon one's life. The individual confesses and determines with God's help to forsake one's sins, receives God's forgiveness, and is encompassed with his love. God, who was formerly ignored, avoided, or openly rejected, now takes residence in the individual's live, replacing the self as its value center. Other people, who were formerly resented, envied, opposed, hated, or at best viewed in terms of what contribution they could make to one's own life, now become objects of concern.



Note how Paul writes: "Put away from you all bitterness and wrath and anger and wrangling and slander, together with all malice, and be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ has forgiven you. Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us . . ." (Eph 4:31-5:2). "Imitate God. Live in love" says it all.



The Christian therefore finds oneself in a relational triangle of God, others, and self. All purpose and meaning in life derives from the dynamic of complete self-giving love. We are to imitate that.



To love as God loves is humanly impossible apart from the motivation and strength and grace which this relationship supplies. "Abide in me as I abide in you," Christ said. "Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me" (Jn 15:4). The true Christian goes in Christ's name, not one's own, draws upon the strength which God provides, and sees life become a profound adventure.

As I See It

Scriptural Symbolism



The Bible is first of all to be interpreted in its literal sense. The books of Scripture were not written primarily for "the wise and prudent" to give them license for sophisticated interpretations, but for ordinary people with common sense understanding. The Bible means what it says.



However, it does have symbolic levels of meaning, and it gives definite indications as to how its symbolism is to be understood. It is simply that images both speak themselves and also contain a significance larger than themselves, of similar spiritual import. (Charles Williams masterfully employs this same principle in shaping the symbolic significance of images in his novels.)



For instance, the Bible often refers to God as the God of Jacob. Jacob was a man, a man with severe shortcomings. The Lord changed his name to Israel, and the term Israel begins to designate something larger than Jacob, that is, all his offspring, who became the Jewish nation. Further, in the New Testament the term Israel is sometimes used to designate the entirety of redeemed humanity. The movement from the ancient Jacob with all his questionable dealings to the ultimate body of the Redeemed is a remarkable display of the grace of God. Similarly, the ancient shepherd poet David becomes the godly King in whose line Christ is born, the son of David, the Ultimate King who sits upon the throne of David, and who, at his Second Coming, will rule in righteousness and justice.



The principle can be applied to each Christian. Each one comes to Christ sincerely repenting of sin, some bringing a past laden with evil behavior and moral disgrace. God forgives, forgets the past, and the individual is given a fresh start. Then begins the efforts of grace which work to create a new individual, changing "Jacob" to "Israel." This process, which the Bible speaks of as sanctification, progresses as the individual obeys Christ's commands and tries earnestly to live daily in a manner that pleases God. Scripture teaches that as God has begun a good work in each individual Christian, he will bring it to completion in the day of Jesus Christ (Phil 1:6). Each Christian will one day be a glorious being, the same person as on earth but also very different, all imperfections which mark earthly exisitence having been removed.

Many Scripture passages foretell this glorious future, such as:

"For while we are still in this tent, we groan under our burden, because we wish not to be unclothed but to be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life" (2 Cor. 5:4).

"Beloved, we are God's children now, what we will be has not yet been revealed. What we do know is this: when he is revealed, we will be like him, for we will see him as he is" (1 Jn. 3:2).

C. S. Lewis writes: "The command Be ye perfect is not idealistic gas. Nor is it a command to do the impossible. He is going to make us into creatures that can obey that command. He said (in th Bible) that we were 'gods' [Psa. 82:6] and He is going to make good His words. If we let Him--for we can prevent Him, if we choose--He will make the feeblest and filthiest of us into a god or goddess, a dazzling, radiant, immortal creature, pulsating all through with such energy and joy and wisdom and love as we cannot now imagine, a bright stainless mirror which reflects back to God perfectly (though, of course, on a smaller scale) His own boundless power and delight and goodness. The process will be long and in parts very painful, but that is what we are in for. Nothing less. He meant what He said" (Mere Christianity, book 4, chapter 9).