If you think blogging is an important form of free speech, you might
want to help sign a petition for a recently arrested Egyptian blogger.

http://freealaa.blogspot.com/

This is one of the more postive things I’ve read about developments among Islamic moderates. Dr. Ahmed Abaddi, the Director of Islamic Affairs in Morocco, has been in Washington explaining to America’s leaders how Morocco is fighting militant Islam. I know many Christians have used the Koran to suggest that Isalm is not a peaceful religion and that there can be no moderation. But I have to believe we should respect their voices of moderation just as we expect them to respect ours. One could misquote our Bible to paint Judeo-Christianity as a mighty violent religion, and couple that with our less than perfect history, and it would not be difficult to reverse the same arguments we use against Islam and apply them to Christianity.

Yet Christians will be quick to object and say this is not what Christianity is about, and when people act ways ways antithetical to our faith, we do not acknowledge that as Christian. And I agree. I just think we might give the same respect to moderate Islamic voices who say that radical Isalm does not reflect their faith. If we are to live in peace, we must find some places of dialogue and mutual respect.

For the last few weeks, I’ve been ruminating on the following passage:

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. 7 This man came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all through him might believe. 8 He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light. (John 1:6-8)

John the Baptist was sent to bear witness of the light. What does it mean to bear witness? In the fundamentalist churches of my youth, bearing witness clearly meant handing out gospel tracts and learning methods to convince people why they need Jesus. Like a faithful soldier, I attended all the witnessing training programs and learned the models for presenting the gospel.

On Saturday mornings, a group of the faithful would hit the streets, knocking on doors and taking “religious surveys” that would never be collated. These were just a front for getting people to talk to us, so that we could then show them why they need Jesus. I learned a variety of techniques and methods of asking questions and even body language that might help draw the potential converts.

By the time I was out of college, all of this seemed a little suspicious to me. Sharing the gospel seemed a bit like selling Kirby vacuum cleaners (which I also attempted). Our whole approach felt like Jesus was simply a product we were trying to convince people that they couldn’t do without.

Me, like many others in my generation, watched far too many mean-spirited people beat up their listeners with the gospel. I couldn’t help but think that these people don’t look anything like the Jesus I see in the gospel.

So many of us began to think that the best way we could bear witness to Jesus was to live like him: to respect people, to be faithful in the little kindnesses of everyday life. For many of us, St Francis of Assisi’s word became our motto: “Witness all the time and when necessary use words.”

Witnessing shifted from proclaiming a truth in words to living a truth through our lifestyle. I still believe this is profoundly important because our faith, if is real, will be embodied in our actions. But there is a danger to this idea as well. And this what has been on my mind lately.

If we reduce witness primarily to a series of non-verbal acts that reveal our life of faith, it might be easy to reduce Christianity to a form of ethics. And that is one step away from suggesting that aren’t all religions really same: they’re about how we treat people, about living right, and so on.

But Christianity is not primarily about ethics it is about a person.

Call me crazy, but I believe Jesus has been challenging and convicting me personally about this idea of bearing witness. I went to sleep last night and dreamed and dreamed and dreamed all night about a strange series of little pictures that would not make sense to others and I could not even fully replicate here. But the dreams awoke me, and I knew a person was speaking to me (Jesus) and I responded by getting up from bed and writing. So here are a few thoughts on being a witness to a person, the person of Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, the Son of God.

Paul says that if Jesus really did not rise from the dead, we are of all men most miserable. In Christianity, we’re making the absurd claim to know a person intimately who lived over 2000 thousand years ago. The focal point of Christianity is not ethics, theology, or rituals. It is a person. We claim that Jesus of Nazareth, the man who lived at a particular place and time, was crucified at a particular place and time, and then overcame death and resurrected at a particular point in time. The resurrection was a vindication of Jesus’ claim to be more than just a man but to actually be God.

Jesus made claims about relationship within God (between himself, the Father and the Spirit), which altered the world’s understanding of God and over time radically reinterpreted the meaning of person for humans as well (that’s another essay).

We actually believe that the man Jesus is actually God and is actually alive right now and is actually capable of speaking to us and entering into relationship with us. We claim that his act in the cross directly addressed the problem of sin and evil in this world and made a way for humans to enter into a relationship with God that had never been possible.

If in our witness we fail to ever mention Jesus, there is something wrong. The woman at the well did not run back to the village and then act out a lifestyle that attracted people to follow her back to the well. She used words. She said “Come and see!”

The problem is that we live in a world that distrusts words and experiences. We fear using words for personal embarrassment or because we don’t want to force ourselves on other people.

But if I go with my wife to a party of my peers, she would appreciate if I introduce her. If I ignore her all evening and hope people will know how important she is by my actions, it is unlikely anyone will walk away knowing how I feel about her. On the other hand, if I talk about her, tell stories about her, show her picture, and reveal her to others then they will begin to meet her long before she is physically present. This is the same with Jesus.

The hang up of course is physical presence. We are used to meeting persons with physical bodies. So to build relationship with a person is not limited by their physical body seems hard to understand. While Jesus has a body, his primary means of entering into relationship now is not through that body but through his Spirit. This seems too far out for some people.

But in truth we meet and interact with many people beyond their physical body: letter writing for example. When a person writes a letter, they are present somehow in the words of their letter. And reading their letter (especially when it is written to us) is like being in their presence. I’ve read books by many authors who’ve been dead for many years, yet I feel as if I know them in their words.

Today we have telephones and emails. We can talk, tell stories, share our lives with people and never actually physically meet them. And yet, it feels as if we know them. And in some ways, we may know them better than the people we know physically. I’ve personally built some friendships online (with people I have never physically met) where I have come to know people on a deeply intimate level. (Of course one might argue, how do you know those people aren’t lying? And my response is trust. Just as I trust the person who is physically present is not lying as well.)

Just as letter writing, emails and telephones use words to convey the presence of persons and bring us into relationship, Jesus is present to us in the reading of his words: primarily the words of the Bible. Instead of reading it like some ancient musty text, we listen for Jesus the person speaking to us. This is not to deny the physical, concrete situations that led up to the writing of each Biblical text, but it is to suggest that the spirit of God inspires this same text and this same spirit reveals Jesus and has chosen to reveal Jesus in and through the text.

When I speak words, I impact you in ways that go far beyond simply acting. Acting, living, modeling may in fact give me a right to speak to you, but non-verbal is incapable of communicating specifics. If I want to meet someone, at some point, I am going to use words. Words pass through the outer world and somehow pierce our inner world in a profound and dramatic way. Words can incite anger. Words can bring tears. Words can surround us with good feelings. Words can bring hope. Words can clarify our feelings.

Words are fundamental to our expression as humans. The word passes through the ear to the mind and ultimately to the heart. Christians make the claim that Jesus does the exact same thing through his Spirit. He uses words, inspired words. The words in the Bible have inspired countless generations and touched people in their hearts with the person of Jesus. Before we discount this as some over emotional fluke, we must come to terms with those who have claimed such an experience: many hardcore rationalists like Thomas Aquinas and CS Lewis.

Some of the greatest thinkers in history have made such a claim. They claimed to meet and form relationship with the person of Jesus. The rich and poor, the intellectual and the simple minded, the educated and the illiterate—all make claims to know Jesus and experience his presence through prayer, reading the Bible, meditation, preaching, fellowship, dreaming, and even journaling.

We won’t meet him in quite the same way the woman at the well did, but the impact is just the same. And if he has not impacted us to the core of our being, then the question is have we truly met him? If he seems completely intangible and more like a concept than a person, then we should ask the Holy Spirit to make him known to us, to speak to us, to open our hearts to his presence. And we should set aside time to listen.

I fear we rarely acknowledge him, when he is speaking. We reduce our faith to ideas or feelings or actions, but his Spirit centers our faith on a person who entered history and yet lives now and is present to us.

Christianity can easily be equated with great ideas, beautiful rituals, personal improvement, ecstatic experiences, and while all these can be present, the heart and soul of it is the person of Jesus. We may perfect our ability to defend the faith through a variety of philosophical arguments, we may become exemplars on service to the poor and needy, we may have visions and see angels and have all manner of dramatic experiences, but we could have all these things and still never meet the person of Jesus.

And yet this is the great claim of Christianity. We believe he speaks to us personally. We believe he is present in the midst of his church. We believe he is transforming us through his presence. May the Spirit of God have mercy on us and open our eyes and hearts to Jesus, the Messiah, the Son of God. May we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

As we encounter the Lord and Savior of our souls, may he become so real to us that bearing witness will become much more than a systematic method or technique, may it flower beyond simply non verbal pantomime and eventually, we might not be ashamed to acknowledge him but like the woman at the well, joyfully exclaim how Jesus has blessed us beyond measure.

For those of you living nearby, we have a band called Wake the Grace playing
at Spring of Light for Saturday night. The concert starts at 8 pm and you’re
welcome to come. Here is a little info on Wake the Grave:

Hailing from the mean streets of Claxton, Tn, Wake The Grave combines heavy,
pummeling riffs with melodic, heartfelt singing and screaming to make a
unique and pleasurable experience for your ears. We sing about our life and
a huge part of our life is our relationship with our Lord and Savior Jesus
Christ. He is the driving force behind this band and we thank him for
gifting us in what ways he has. Things are just going to get better and
better!! Come check us out!!!

http://www.myspace.com/wakethegrave

If you want your ears pummeled with joyous sounds, feel free to join us!

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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The clouds softly enclose the sky on this sleepy Saturday morning. For some
reason, I’ve always loved cloudy gray days. They seem a little like my
personality, relaxed and gently ambling along without a driving need to be
anywhere in particular—just happy to be. Today I’m happy to be reclining and
writing, and as I write, my blood enjoys a cleansing through the miracle of
dialysis.

Just above my right breast two small valves or ports connect to two tubes
running to and from the dialysis machine. My blood flows out one tube into
the machine through a series of twist and turns down through a filter and
into another tube that connects back to my chest. In the process,
potentially harmful chemical levels are readjusted and if I have too much
liquid in my system, it is removed.

If I had this same condition less than 100 years ago, I would probably be
dying as the toxins continued to build with no means of adjusting them. God
in His unfathomable goodness choose that I might live at this point in time
and thus enjoy the benefits of a machine.

There are a variety of people sitting in this room with me. Most are at
least 30 years older than me. One man holds his head and softly moans with a
grimace of pain clenching his face. He recently had surgery on both feet as
a result of bone problems associated with kidney disease.

According to one of the patients, this man made a fortune out West. I don’t
know what he did for living but apparently his hard work and ingenuity paid
great dividends, and he enjoyed great wealth. Here’s a man who once could
have anything he wanted, and now someone decides what he can do, where he
sits and even how much he can drink. He cannot even stand up by himself. Two
emergency workers must help him into a wheelchair. I feel sorry him and pray
for him some days because he always seems quite miserable.

As I look around the room, I notice one common thing about each person in
here. We’re all a bit helpless. All of us rely on machines to keep our
bodies working properly. All of us depend on nurses and doctors to take care
of us and in one sense keep us alive.

As the human body ages and when serious physical ailments require medical
assistance, the illusions of independence are stripped away. This state of
helplessness can be just as difficult and maybe more so than the actual
physical problem.

I grew up in a John Wayne world. As tough, self-reliant cowboy, he could
face any difficulty with guts and gusto. His character Rooster Cogburn was
crippled in one leg and had a patch over one eye, yet he was still tough as
nails. The world did not intimidate Rooster and he boldly confronted every
challenge with fierce resolve.

This independent, rough and ready cowboy fed the American myth of the
self-made individual who is unshakeable and can conquer the world through
vim and vigor.

And it is simply not true. All of us stand helpless before the world.
Regardless of wealth, education, and physical prowess, we’re not really that
different. Everyone one of us is completely helpless and every one of us
will die. Helplessness is just more obvious in some people than in others.

In a given day, every one of us relies on probably hundreds, if not
thousands, of other people for survival. When I awake to an alarm clock, I
rely on the engineers who designed that clock, the factory workers who built
that clock, the truck drivers who transported that clock, the sales person
who sold the clock and most likely the electric company who powers the
clock. In reality, this is just of few of the people who helped assure that
clock would wake me up on time for work.

As I take a shower, I rely on the persons who invented indoor plumbing, laid
the water lines, installed the plumbing, and work at the water company. By
the time I reach breakfast, I’ve already depended on a wide range of people
to get my morning started, and as the day progresses, I will rely on a host
more of unseen, unnamed people who will provide my essential needs and make
my life more comfortable.

But what about the hermit in the mountains or the person on the desert
island? They could actually live alone for years with relying on one other
human being, eating directly from the land. Aren’t they self-sufficient?
Think about it, they cannot possibly generate the food or water that will
sustain them. They get water from springs or wells and food from the land.
They are still totally dependent on the land, the sun, the air and the
water.

Whether we acknowledge it or not, all of us are completely dependent. To
survive we depend on other people, on the earth and on God. This dependence,
this helplessness is not a curse at all—it’s a gift. This gift teaches us
that we are not alone and have never been alone.

If we were alone, we could not exist. We are created for relationship. The
varied web of relationships that sustain each of us is far larger than most
of us ever imagined. It circles the world. It extends back in time to
ancient ages. It is bigger and more mysterious than anything we could
observe or chart or fully grasp. And yet it is so easy to fall into the
arrogant illusion of self-sufficiency.

If we but grasped our helplessness, we might fall on our knees in gratitude:
to the sun above and earth below, to the countless people seen and unseen
that meet our continual needs, and most of all to God who sustains all
things and all people (saint and sinner alike) by a love beyond measure.

So as I sit here connected for four hours to a dialysis machine, I can only
respond in thanksgiving for those who’ve made this possible. I invite you
into my helplessness. Not into a sickness or physical malady but into a
realization of our total dependence upon one another. And with that mindset
into a continual stream of thanksgiving for the blessings that overtake us
each moment.

Instead of continually wondering why our lives are not better, we might
cultivate a mindset that wonders why our lives have been so good, so
blessed, and so overwhelmingly wonderful. In so doing, we might begin to
acknowledge the treasures that surround. Instead of complaining for slow
service at restaurant, we might thank the server for their time and effort
in meeting our need. We might thank the clerk in the store, we might thank
the boss who employs us, we might thank the officer who protects us, we
might thank the teachers who instruct us, we might look around with fresh
eyes at the innumerable blessings surrounding us each moment.

And most of all, we might thank God who owes us nothing and yet blesses us
continually whether we are good and evil.

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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I am so blessed to have friends who have encouraged and prayed for me in the
midst of my kidney challenges. I have not experienced the stress associated
with such a physical condition, but rather I’ve felt the joy and peace of
being surrounded by loving people.

Some of you have asked about updates on my situation, so I thought I might
take a moment to share my current condition. This week is the third week of
dialysis. They put a catheter in my chest to serve as a temporary access
point. Next week I will have surgery on my arm to get a fistula for a more
permanent access.

I go to dialysis three times a week for four hours at a time. While a bit
time consuming, it gives me opportunity to read and write. The first couple
hours are not usually too bad but sometimes the last hour or two can get a
little tiresome. That’s when my blood pressure might drop or I might
experience a bit of cramping. While there are a few physical effects, I
cannot complain. This whole experience has been saturated in grace and
peace.

My doctors are cautious, and that’s why they sent me to ER last week. They
wanted to make sure my catheter was causing any serious problems.

In a couple weeks, Kelly and I will begin training to do home dialysis. To
help prepare, we’ve been overwhelmed with people volunteering to help
convert our basement into a suitable clinic area. Everywhere I turn I have
been blessed and I can only extend thanksgiving to the Lord and to the many
wonderful people he has placed in my life.

Thank again for your thoughts and prayers and may the Lord overwhelm each of
you with His goodness.

Grace and Peace,

Doug Floyd

http://www.springoflight.org/

“You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they find
rest in You.”
St. Augustine

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Here are few unrelated tidbits.

Jeremy Floyd has some interesting comments on China and the rise of the creative class in America.

I’m reading a new book by NT Wright called Simply Christian. This is sort of a popular synopsis from some of his scholarly works on Jesus and Paul. In one sense it is an apologetic for Christianity much like CS Lewis’s Mere Christianity. Wright uses many of the question circulating in our culture today to discuss his faith. He weaves his discussion of faith through four primary topics: Justice, Beauty, Spirituality and Relationships. Along the way, he demonstrates how these interwined longings all disappoint. We fail in our quest to realize perfection in each of these areas. I would hand this book to anyone to introduce my faith. I highly recomend it and encourage Christians and non-Christians alike to read to see how some Christians might articualte their faith in ways that avoid some of the typical categories.

Still on a quest to discover indie Christian aritsts. If anyone has any reocmendations, send them my way. Here is another one I’ve been checking out:

16 Horsepower – The brainchild of David Eugene Edwards. Folk, appalachian, fiere and brimestone rock. Interesting. Makes me kind of think of the intensity of the Call.

So much time has passed that some wondered if the ark would ever return. Layers of ancient history clouded its disappearance, some said it disappeared after Solomon, others said it was taken by the Babylonians. The ark of the covenant was gone and only a miracle could bring it back.

The ark served as a continual reminder of God’s presence among his people. Inside this golden chest lay the tablets God gave to Moses, a jar of manna from the wilderness and Aaron’s rod that budded. All served as reminder of the great Exodus when God took His people out an empire and into a covenant.

The tablets contained the “ten,” that is the commands that defined this covenant people. The manna was the wondrous bread that sustained the ancient Hebrews as they crossed the wilderness. And the rod budded as an indication that Aaron was chosen to be high priest on behalf of the people.

These sacred objects stored in this sacred box all pointed to the God that kept covenant with His people. Considered holy, the ark was not to be even touched by human hands. Everywhere they went, the Levites carried the ark before the people on rods.

The ark led them across the wilderness. The ark led them through the Jordan river. The ark even led them in victory against Jericho. The ark always led the way as a continual reminder that the Hebrews were “a people in covenant with God.” The ark rested in the Holiest room of the tabernacle. This room was likened to the third heaven.

Once the Philistines captured the ark, but after one failed attempt, David restored it. He brought it back to Israel in grand procession with singing and dancing. The victorious king vanquished their enemies and restored the ark back to the holy mountain. But not Sinai. David put the ark on Mount Zion and forever established it as God’s holy mountain.

But those days of promise were so long ago. The glory days faded, and all that remained was a dull tarnish of dashed dreams. Israel broke the covenant again and again and again. The nation was divided, attacked captured and eventually led into exile.

Somewhere along the way, the ark vanished. And with it, the sense of God’s presence had left the people. Forced to serve under various oppressors, the Hebrews lived in an endless twilight, awaiting deliverance, awaiting for another David to return. Then their oppression would be cast off, their exile would end and the temple would be fully restored with the ark of God’s presence.

Three times a year, the people made festal processions up the mountain to celebrate God’s delivering hand. Three times a year, they reenacted the ark’s journey across the wilderness and the procession up the Holy Mountain. Three times a year they remembered the covenant God struck with their forefathers. They times a year, they dreamed and hoped of another day.

The time for their Passover procession approached, but this year, another procession was already in motion. The ark had returned and was traveling through the city and up the Holy Mountain. Instead of war stead, this warrior king rode a donkey. But he had come to claim the Davidic promise. He had come to end the exile. He had come to break the rod of the oppressor. He had come to restore the temple. He had come to put the ark back on the Holy Mountain.

But where was the ark? He didn’t lead a band of Levites with the ark on rods. Where was the ark?

He was the ark. Jesus was the ark of the covenant.

Jesus entered the city with shouts of Hosanna and crowds cheering in a festal procession. He was the ark for he himself bore the presence of God in the midst of the people. He himself bore the covenant in his body. He spoke as one having authority for He was the living law of the covenant. He came as sustenance for the soul because He was the living manna. He came bearing Aaron’s rod, for he was the true High Priest of Israel.

But just as David learned, the ark could only be set in place with sacrifice, so Jesus also brought the sacrifice required to restore the ark to its proper position. He became the sacrifice. For He himself was the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. Jesus the great High Priest offered Himself the Lamb of God as sacrifice and then Jesus the living ark of the covenant was restored to Mount Zion.

Only Mount Zion had changed. It was no longer a city in old Jerusalem but a city in the new Jerusalem, the city of the firstborn, the faithful in Christ Jesus, the people called out to worship God—not in a place but in spirit and truth. With ark of God’s presence set among his called out people in Christ Jesus, we are the mountain to which all nations will stream. For out from his people flows the living water that brings healing to the world.

As we proceed through Holy Week, we fix our eyes on the joy before us: the presence of God among His people in Christ Jesus. This is not simply a yearly celebration, but in reality every week we make the festal procession. Each Lord’s Day, we celebrate the ark being restored to Mt Zion with songs of rejoicing, and we encounter the law of the covenant, the heavenly manna and the great High Priest—all embodied in Jesus Christ.

Let us rejoice this Holy Week, for we are traveling to the Holy City to rejoice once more in the joyous presence of God, resting among His people.

In the desert, we learn the mystery of walking in joy in spite of hunger, thirst and any other perceived lack. For in the desert, we learn the dance of trust. We follow and the Lord leads us in a dance that world has never seen. Though we long to lead, we must learn to follow. He gently guides us through each step of the dance. And in the process, we become the music.

I’ve shared many times over the past year about the various challenges related to my 25-year battle with Chronic Kidney Disease. This next week, I begin a new step in the dance. Tomorrow I will have surgery for a temporary port to begin immediate dialysis. With the plans to eventually transfer that process to my arm.

This could and probably should be a time for concern, and yet even as the doctor made plans this last week, I felt a complete sense of peace. I realized then more than ever that I was being carried by the prayers of God’s people.

In this dance of joy that He has called us to, we encourage one another. We build up one another. We bear one another’s burdens. And we share in one another’s joy. The reality of this community of faith stuck deep in my soul, and I felt complete peace.

As one dear brother said, “a page is turning, same author, same book, just a new page.” So I rest in the goodness of God and in the collective prayers of His people. Instead of dread, there is expectancy. Our God is good and greatly to be praised. Thank you for those who prayed for me and I appreciate your continued prayers. God is a most faithful and loving dance partner.

Sitting in a coffee shop recently, I penned the following words. It’s not really poem, but it is something that expresses the wonder of humans moving across this earth.

We move across the face of the deep.
And as we move, music.

Wisps of words swirling and spinning in a gentle dance between lover and beloved.
Monstrous, giant shouting words, pounding hearts and souls like tempered steel.
Cackling, hackling, chuckling words giggling in playful chaos.
Crying, aching, groaning words beyond words leaking through cracked and crushed hearts.
Searching, grasping, longing words hoping that one small sound might echo back to the lonely yearning heart.

Gentle, caressing arms encircling and clasping two bodies as one.
Sure and strong arms holding steady day after day after day.
Throbbing, sweating working arms carrying the weight of this world.
Pounding, shaping, building arms erecting and repairing places and possibilities.

Scraping, clicking and clacking feet play the wooden floors and gravel lots, paved parking lots and mountain trails.
Tap, tap, tapping feet dancing in place to the silent tune that the heart endlessly pumps.
Walking, running, traveling feet heading from here to there and back again.
Stomping, jumping and thumping feet raging on innocent earth.

And Breathing.
Raspy, graspy breathing lusting for air and for life.
Steady breathing.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Oxygen and light filling soul with smiles and sunshine.

We move across the face of the deep.
And as we move, music.

We were made for joy.

for laughter
for songs
for dancing in the rippling streams
for gazing into the wondrous glory of sun-crowned mountains
for hearing earth’s perpetual plainchant, steadily drumming, “Holy, Holy, Holy”
for witnessing the wonder of rushing rivers crashing across ancients stones
for walking through tender spring grass glistening with morning dew
for harmony
for hilarity

We were made for light.

Sung into being by the breath of the Holy Lover, we awakened in an Eden of delightful bliss.

And yet the joystreams of our earthly journey evaporated in the desert’s soul-boring sun.

We still stumble across a wasteland of regrets and unfulfilled expectations looking for something that might give us even a glimpse of goodness and glory.

Desire drives us forward, as we seek to possess that joy, that unfailing happiness, that elusive longing that plagues our heart. We feed the yearning with movies and food and fun and cars and jewelry and sex and anything that can yield but a moment’s flash of possible delight.

Like Adam and Eve grasping for a fruit that was not a gift, our desire will possess anything and everything—including God. If we could actually possess God, we would devour him. Or possibly cage Him and make Him come out and satisfy our cravings. Plato thought we might even kill him. St. Stephen said we did.

There is a love greater than desire. There is a love that conquers desires. There is a love that cannot be possessed and yet cannot be resisted. There is a love that dwells in unapproachable light.

This supreme love, this supreme good is beyond all earthly good. It cannot be moved, drained, controlled or corrupted by human desire. This love entered human history in Jesus. Jesus’ love conquered human desire by yielding to it. He allowed the dark desires of humanity to kill him. But even in dying His love refused to let go.

And thus, we follow Him into death. Our desire, our Eros, our compulsion is crucified. Love wraps around the human heart and draws it to death. And in dying we live, and love. Love breathes freshly into the newborn soul, and we learn to dance again, to sing again, to play again. We grow back to innocence and wonder and, joy. Joy. Joy. Joy unspeakable.

We were made for joy.