More from Grafton's "My Life in Christ"
Grafton’s comment about the prodigal son comes at the end of his consideration of the “Parable of the Tares.” His diagnosis (of my current mindset) is both astute and accurate.
He writes: “The formation of Christian character is a slow process. Think what it ought to be. Our Christian life is a supernatural life. It has a supernatural end, a union with God in glory. Now a supernatural end can only be attained by supernatural means. No man, by the cultivation of a mere natural virtue and by principles of philosophy, can attain heaven. Christians are the adopted sons of God. They have been made partakers of the divine nature. They have been incorporated into Christ. It is promised that they should be filled with all the fulness of God. They are to go on from strength to strength and attain a perfection in Christ. But look at thyself, O soul. Why these cares? These little mortifying sins? These daily imperfections? These interior disquietudes? These faults of speech? These little irritations? This gloominess or despondency? Why is not thine interior always calm, quiet, peaceful, resting with God? Some of these faults may come from our own selves, but also it is true that the enemy hath done this. Hating us with malignant hatred, and plotting against us with a tremendous experience in the art of ruining souls, Satan attacks the Christian with little and subtle temptations. If he tempted them to commit great sins, he is aware they would repulse him. But if he can only get them to commit a number of little ones, these will harden into habit, or the poor soul be thrown into a state of despondency. But Satan, with all his craft and knowledge of man, is ignorant of grace, and grace continually baffles him. Let it ever be remembered that God is never discouraged with us, because He knows His own power. And all those spirits, despondency, melancholic feelings, come either from physical causes or from Satan.”
Disquieted, irritated, gloomy — busted, in our lingua franca. As my mom used to say, my biorhythms have been down. But it’s more insidious than just that. My eyes have been on self, but, as Grafton says, it’s time for my soul to look at itself. Who am I in Christ?
But he doesn’t leave it there. But God. What perspicuity: “Let it ever be remembered that God is never discouraged with us, because He knows His own power.” Whew. I need to just sit with that for awhile. Christ in me, the hope of glory.
We are “partakers of the divine nature.” The word often calls a favorite Communion hymn to mind, Winkworth’s translation of Franck:
“Sun, who all my life dost brighten,
light, who dost my soul enlighten,
joy, the sweetest heart e'er knoweth,
fount, whence all my being floweth,
at thy feet I cry, my Maker,
let me be a fit partaker
of this blessed food from heaven,
for our good, thy glory, given.”
So,
“Deck thyself, my soul, with gladness,
leave the gloomy haunts of sadness;
come into the daylight's splendour,
there with joy thy praises render
unto him whose grace unbounded
hath this wondrous banquet founded:
high o'er all the heavens he reigneth,
yet to dwell with thee he deigneth.”