Home Again
Chapter Six in "How Lovely is Your Dwelling Place"
The challenges and trials of life are not anomalies; rather, though unwanted, they are an integral part of the fabric of time, that is, of the times of our lives.
A theological investigation can never be simply the application of ready-made, authoritative answers to human questions. It must be a real labor, moving always toward the light of Christ, but in that light wrestling with real darkness-with questions that truly dismay and perplex, questions that arise from the torments of existence, like the question of suffering.
— Arthur C. McGill, Suffering: A Test of Theological Method1
O that I could have been so wise and faithful to see with that far greater Milton’s vision. Or, I could extract the wisdom from George MacDonald’s poem, “A Hidden Life” (1864):
As years have brought me manhood's loftier mind
Able to see thy human life behind—
The same hid heart, the same revealing face—
My own dim contest settling into grace
Of sorrow, strife, and victory combined.2
But every man must learn his lessons his way. The wiser ones learn from others, but there are few of us. I am sadly not among that lot. Yet, Christ had mercy. Eventually, I could see the act in most, not all, of its scenes. However, it is always more challenging to see from the side of the stage, past the curtains, and through the ropes and props.
It took time. It cost tears. But I have discovered a profound spiritual strength in the splendid darkness where the stars are brightest. I remember being forced to relinquish my active role in the church. I remembered the sacred moments of seeking solace in Psalm 84—the Psalmist’s love of God’s house and the joy of belonging. In my heart, I carried the faces of the congregation I had served, those radiant souls I had loved with the Lord’s benedictions Sunday after Sunday. The images of their faces and the sensations from two thousand Sundays became my sanctuary, fortifying my Spirit, if not my body. If the interior of my soul was emptied of the congregation itself, each person I had shepherded became single stems and buds of beauty gathered by the Lord and arranged with others. God decorated the empty room inside with a bouquet of souls. I understood what Paul felt when he wrote: “For what is our glory and joy? Is it not even you” (1 Thessalonians 2:19-20)?
It took time. It cost tears. But I have discovered a profound spiritual strength in the splendid darkness where the stars are brightest. .—M. Milton
In this newfound weakness, I discovered the paradoxical strength of the cross. Psalm 84 was a living testament, not just an abstract hymn of ancient times.
The beast that sought to consume me now lay defeated, a casualty of a faith rooted in divine love and communal bonds. Yes, the scars from the attack are with me. But the infection is transformed.
I have written about my trials to relate God’s goodness to you. From the moment of my conversion, I sensed a calling to use my life as an example of what God could do for those who felt hopeless. I have no other reason to share these things but to seek to encourage you in your afflictions. Christ transforms our pain into praise when we receive His invitation:
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).
And we receive Him by surrendering our all to Him. We must die in self to live in Christ. That prospect may sound scary. Yet, I tell you that in yielding your life entirely to our Lord Jesus, you will find a long-sought-after rest. Following the motif of the cross, in Christ Jesus, your weakness becomes strength. Your defeat becomes victory. And death will become life. You are a part of the expansion of an unseen kingdom, a kingdom that is here and a kingdom that is coming.
Through our trials, the resurrection of Christ takes on an even deeper resonance. The truth of the resurrection and its vivid promise of new life shines more brilliantly against the dark backdrop of life’s inevitable tombs. And so, in our weakness, we find an incomprehensible strength—wisdom derived from a communion of saints past and present, the enduring power of sacred words, and most of all, spiritual healing for eternity from Christ alive in us. And we discover that the home we love, the safe nest under the altar, is the person David looked to. Our Lord Jesus is our home.
When we learn this truth, the creature that lurked in sinister stealth lies dead, stilled and stiffened by the inescapable powers of God’s unconquerable covenant of grace, never to rise again.
So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. ( 2 Co 12:7–10 ESV).
That is my story. And the truth is: it is very likely yours, as well. There always seems to be enigmatic trouble, crisis, loss, sorrow, or even deep inward pain of idiopathic origins fed by unseen and unknown blood vessels connecting the existential tumor to the spiritual realm. Yet it is there. “Why?” You say. Shall I give you an answer when Paul did not?
“So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited” (2 Corinthians 12:7 ESV).
I can only respond, “God is glorified in the paradoxes of satanic attacks,” I cannot offer more. Except I will ask, “What will be your response?” The devil sends thorns. God transformed them into gifts. But we must be clear: The pain is real. But so is the grace. The devil sought to stop Paul’s ministry with the thorn. The thorn was transformed into fuel for the mission in the catalytic converter of God’s sovereign grace. Europe was transformed. The Middle East, Africa. Then, the New World. The mission went to the ends of the earth and is now encircling the globe, resurrecting the faith in those lands where the Church was persecuted or forgotten: The Far East, back to the Middle East, and Jerusalem. The world was changed forever. Due to that thorn, many will join the triumphant assembly in the clouds when our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ comes again. O bless that thorn in Saint Paul’s flesh. Many will have eternal life in Christ because suffering produced those virtues necessary for Paul to carry the Gospel even to Rome. Truly, at his martyrdom, Paul’s thorn was deposited in the earth where the Empire stood. The Army of the Empire that stood watch over Paul’s death carried the soil with the seed of Paul’s religion to the ends of the earth, unwitting evangelists for Another Kingdom. All things have become His instruments to fulfill His purposes.
This is the promise. There is life in the thorn. There is a proleptic power growing in the proteins of the thorn, awaiting their bloom. And this is the peace God offers you in your life. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is more powerful than any foe, even death. So, the diabolical panthers of Hell, real or metaphorical, might snarl, but in the end, like Satan before Golgotha, they are crushed by the resurrection power of a God who loves us more than we could ever know.
Suffering may come. Death awaits us all. But the crucified Christ is alive. And that changes everything.
That is why we may pray the words of the Psalmist:
How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord of hosts! 2 My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. 3 Even the sparrow finds a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, at your altars, O Lord of hosts, my King and my God. 4 Blessed are those who dwell in your house, ever singing your praise! [Selah]
5 Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. 6 As they go through the Valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. 7 They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion. 8 O Lord God of hosts, hear my prayer; give ear, O God of Jacob! [Selah]
9Behold our shield, O God; look on the face of your anointed! 10 For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness. 11 For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor. No good thing does he withhold from those who walk uprightly. 12O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you!
— Psalm 84
He had found a home with God (verses 1-4). Then, the desert days came. But God transformed the valley of affliction into an oasis of divinely sent refreshment so that the Psalmist might continue the journey (verses 5-8). Thus, the Psalmist sees the blessing in the burden and the doxology in the darkness: “O Lord of hosts, blessed is the one who trusts in you” (verse 12)!
Verses 9-12 reflect the response of the Psalmist, who finds himself back in the courts of the Lord.
Through it all, “Home again.”
This is the Gospel of our God and Savior, Jesus Christ. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Consider using these questions as starting points for discussion and prayer.
1. Encountering the Divine in the Depths of Suffering:
Arthur C. McGill argues that theology is not simply a recitation of answers but rather a pursuit of understanding divine mysteries, particularly in the context of suffering. Consider the times when your own suffering or loss prompted you to grapple with profound theological questions. How did these experiences deepen your understanding of God's presence and purpose in suffering? Have you ever found that moments of "splendid darkness" revealed a more profound spiritual truth to you?
2. The Paradox of Strength in Weakness:
The narrative powerfully illustrates the paradoxical truth that in our weakness, God's strength is made perfect. Reflect on your own experiences where God transformed your moments of weakness, pain, or loss into opportunities for His power to be displayed. How has your passage through your personal "valley of affliction" demonstrated the power of the cross and the resurrection of Christ in your life? In what ways has this change impacted your view on suffering and the Christian faith?
3. The Homecoming of the Soul:
The profound message of Psalm 84 resonates through the narrative, highlighting the soul's longing and eventual homecoming to God's presence. Consider your spiritual odyssey in seeking your "home" with God. How has the journey—through desolate wastelands and deep ravines, through trials and hardships—molded your comprehension of what it truly means to abide in the Lord's presence? Reflect on how God has transformed your suffering into opportunities for renewal, bringing you closer to embracing the abundant life in Christ.
Arthur C. McGill, Suffering: A Test of Theological Method (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2007), 28.
George MacDonald, “A Hidden Life,” part II, lines 4-8, in A Hidden Life and Other Poems. Digital (Gutenberg.org, 1864), https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10578/pg10578-images.html.