The glory of God and of Kings

Yesterday morning awoke with misty eyes. We had picked up Hannah from Dulles Airport in DC and drove a short way to retreat in a friend's W.Va. mountain home. The Shenandoah valley at one point was simply filled with fog. From my view in bed I could barely distinguish a single tree in the early morning mist. But I knew the landscape was filled with early spring green and the river curled past the view point. An hour or so later the breeze had blown away the clouds and made even the distance seem near.

So with a hot cup of coffee in hand, Debbie and I waited for Hannah to arise out of her jet-lagged sleep. As I peered over the tree tops and allowed my heart to settle in the beauty of the majestic mountainside, Deb read from Proverbs 25. "It is the glory of God to conceal a matter, and the glory of kings to search it out." At first that seemed odd and hard to understand. Why would God conceal a matter? Even more, why would that reflect glory to him?

We thought of our own life journey and those we have known and in whom we have sought to sow the seeds of the Kingdom. So many matters of our own lives remain a mystery. With us so many have sought God's face and mercy to intervene at our point of need. We have sought wisdom to understand and choose the right way forward. We have sought strength to accept the things we could not change. But even now we peer into the circumstances of our lives and see only mist and fog. Of course "why cancer?" has an understanding in the nature of a fallen world and the existence of evil and sickness. We thought about people we have known and loved who have chosen to leave Africa or Asia or some other global point of need to find employment in the U.S.A--a land of plenty. We are puzzled as to why God would have us of all people working out of this country. I thought of the thirty boxes of books that just left our house last week to start their journey to Sri Lanka. It represented the finest of two lifetimes of theology and pastoral library collection. The fog is ever so thick.

But I know that beyond the fog is the beauty of the River of Life even when I can't see it. I didn't create the roads, I only followed the map given by Someone Who Knows. I can only observe trees that are planted and grown by Someone Who Creates. And so the glory of God is seen when the questions are too big for me. God conceals the matter not out of some mean spite to hide understanding from me, but because the matters are beyond my comprehension. Can I fathom the pathway of the kingdom among the nations? Am I able to understand why God uses some people in magnificent ways and others in common ways to forward His reign of righteousness? Am I really able to comprehend even the pathway of my own life and know where my voice should be heard or my feet tread so to nurture seeds of life that He has planted? Can I know in advance the lessons that he has for me to learn through pain or loss? Would I choose the painful pathway even if I knew I would see His glory more clearly on that pathway? Certainly not.

So His glory is the greatness which conceals the smallness of my moment. And my glory? My glory is in seeking out some small part of that greatness.

We took a walk on the Appalachian Trail. For the first time I saw what I knew was true for much of my life. In the middle of the trail was a small acorn, it had sprouted and its tiny two-inch stem was reaching from the acorn toward the sunlight above in the midst of the mighty oaks all along the trail. Its glory was to stretch out its arms and absorb the light.

If I am that acorn, my glory is not to know that one day I will be sawed into pieces to make a grand banquet table for the king. My glory is to reach for the Light and allow the miracle of life to be seen in me.

It is that simple I guess. Cancer. Surgical removal of treasured body parts. Being pulled like a weed out of the garden of Africa. Books that represent aspirations of understanding and learning just heaped onto a truck and shipped half the earth away. Perceived opportunities to impact people and nations that get struck from the travel schedule because of economic realities. Visions of accomplishments quickly eclipsed by other's agendas.

I could feel sorry, or angry, or ashamed, or depressed. But this weekend I saw an acorn in the midst of the mighty oaks. It simply reached up for the Light.

Me too. How about you?