[Vision2020] Yet Do I Marvel !

[keely emerinemix]

The ongoing insistence on the part of Kirkers that the "moles" in their 
midst are mere cowards, creeps, and cancers dismays me, and I join those of 
you who have wondered aloud why on earth a heaven-bound church would need 
private congregational emails, much less why some folks therein would feel 
compelled to secretly leak them to outsiders.

Any group that large, of course, has people in it who disagree with its 
leadership; when that group is a church, however, they shouldn't feel the 
need to do so in fear.  They either speak their peace -- and leave or stay, 
or they keep quiet -- and leave or stay.  What I've never seen in 24 years 
of church involvement is the phenomena of "keep quiet, stay, and send up 
flares from the bunkers to get the attention of someone on the outside."

I have left every church I've ever attended, except for the one I'm at now 
(the sheer simplicity of that truth requires a "duh!", but bear with me . . 
. ).  Sometimes I've left because Jeff and I couldn't countenance bad 
doctrine or pastoral misconduct; more often, we've left because we moved.  
We've been as open for the reasons in the former as for the latter, because 
painful as it might have been, we knew we had to, and our spiritual, 
economic, and social well-being wasn't tied up in any one congregation.  No 
group of people should have that kind of power, and no believer should ever 
feel held hostage by it.

Freedom in Christ, yes.  Fetters in church, no.  I'm glad I worship a God 
who set the captives free, even if they often again find themselves in 
captivity.

I, too, love the works of Countee Cullen, and dedicate this poem to those 
League of the South members with their fawning affection for the social 
order and hierarchy of position:

"She even thinks that up in Heaven
Her class lies late and snores
While poor Black cherubs rise at 7
To do celestial chores . . ."

keely emerine mix





From: DonaldH675 at aol.com
To: vision2020 at moscow.com
Subject: [Vision2020] Yet Do I Marvel !
Date: Sat, 3 Sep 2005 02:58:34 EDT


Visionaries:

Many, many years ago I discovered the poetry of Countee  Cullen.  His work
had a profound influence on my  life. I noted this evening that Doug Wilson
blogged (in part) on a  brief conversation we had at the last P & Z meeting. 
  My
response to  his understanding of our chat is best summarized by the 
following
poem.

Yet Do I Marvel - Countee Cullen
"I doubt not God is good, well-meaning, kind
And did He stoop to  quibble could tell why
The little buried mole continues blind,
Why flesh  that mirrors Him must some day die,
Make plain the reason tortured  Tantalus
Is baited by the fickle fruit, declare
If merely brute caprice  dooms Sisyphus
To struggle up a never-ending stair.

Inscrutable His ways are, and immune
To catechism by a mind too  strewn
With petty cares to slightly understand
What awful brain compels  His awful hand.
Yet do I marvel at this curious thing:
To make a poet  black, and bid him sing!"

In short, Doug, I never blame the victim.


Rose  Huskey
"And he took his staff in his hand, and chose him  five smooth stones out of
the brook, and put them in a shepherd's bag which he  had, even in a scrip;
and his sling [was] in his hand: and he drew near to the  Philistine. "
1 Samuel 17:40



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