The Art of Crying Holy

 

I’m not an emotional Christian. While there are a few songs that might bring me to tears in a worship service, I’d rather experience such intimacy in a private moment. When I observe a friend—in the terminology of modern Christianese—getting her worship on, I consider she must be more spiritual than me, more attuned to God. An all-around better Christian. Then I chuckle under my breath. She’s not that good of a Christian. Of course, neither am I, or my eyes wouldn’t wander during worship and I wouldn’t judge my extroverted friend.

A while back, I quit worrying that I’d ever be able to change from introvert to extrovert. I decided I was okay reading in the far corner of the room while others engaged in conversation. God knew when He made me how I’d turn out. Then he married me off to an extrovert and provided a good balance.

My propensity for quiet retreat gives me insight perhaps unknown to the overt worshiper. But still, I wonder sometimes if I’m missing out. The closer we get to the return of Christ, the more I sense my natural disposition bubbling near the edge of the supernatural.

In the past, when I considered the return of our Lord to gather His Church, I would often gaze upward to the clear blue sky. I’d breathe in God’s wonder. And I’d think, no, not yet. And God would ease my mind into a holding pattern. Not so any longer.

Maybe it’s because I’m older. Or because the world is getting nuttier. Or because, while I’m not always demonstrative, I do feel things, and I feel that my Deliverer is coming. I no longer view the pleasant sky as a sign. I sometimes hold my breath to listen for His call. But I’m not afraid. It might seem to others that I’m unenthusiastic. But that’s just me. Without spectacle, void of anxiety, I await the soon-coming King.

I’m glad for the whooping from my brothers and sisters. I’m happy for their raucous verbal acknowledgement of King Jesus. Their cries echo in the hushed well of my soul.

           Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty.

                      You are holy, Lord. Holy.

There’s an art to crying holy. Like the painter’s stroke, the poet’s verse, the singer’s refrain, or the musician’s skill, the cry erupts from deep inside. Like the builder’s monument or the engineer’s design, it carries great benefit for the whole community. The art of one is unlike the art of all the rest, and yet it arises in the same Spirit. It’s original. It’s true. It’s beautiful. And God delights in it.

When I'm standing before the Throne, I might join the celebration with a loud voice. If it happens that way, I won’t fret. How could I resist in the presence of my Savior? Or perhaps there will be an introvert section in the choir, where I can blend in. But I doubt we’ll remain quiet for long. Our cry of holy, holy, holy will surely resonate in glorious tribute to fill Heaven.

After such personal revelation, can I remain still and subdued in the here and now? Sure I can, and I won’t fret over that either. But the day is closer, the art more devoted, and maybe I’m crying holy just a little bit louder. 

The Day the Conversation Died

 In memory of Charlie Kirk

Of course, a conversation only dies when the participants stop talking. That has not happened. Now everybody’s talking. The motivator died, but the motivation became amplified. The initiator is gone, but the gut-wrenched souls, once they caught their collective breath, began to speak with no muddled voices. The detractors spoke up too, and some of them must regret their rush to blabber because it cost them their jobs. Mixed feelings about free speech and all that? Me too. But if opinion can end a man’s life, perhaps the setback of a career is not so terrible. They can learn a lesson in civility and move on.

It's not the first conversation to take a hit. And it’s not the first celebratory response to an assassination. People who resist the establishment and stir up the public are always met with cheers and jeers. When I was a child, a great American voice was extinguished by evil. The months that followed brought riots, blame, hate, political unrest, the deployment of the national guard, another assassination, great upheaval, and eventually, necessary steps in the direction of change. But in the first moments of darkness, some people who didn’t approve of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s mission shouted for joy. And that was, and is, disgraceful.

You may say that I should not dare compare that man to this one, and I’m not. But MLK’s infamous speech is one of my favorite writings of all time. It still speaks loudly to me and to anyone who listens. And so, for me, comparison is instinctual. A man died for a cause and the world took notice. As for the words of Charlie Kirk, I didn’t follow his interactions with college students closely. But I do now. I’ve never read any of his books. But I will now. The conversation lives on.

I understand that some of his quotes, taken out of context, may provoke some people who live angry lives to speak angry words. Again, the conversation lives on. Whether or not everything he ever said was clearly understood, whether or not his ideology was acceptable, ending his life was wrong. The killer said that some hate can't be negotiated out. End of conversation. Nothing left to do but silence the voice in the most heinous way possible. That. Is. Wrong. Can't we just agree on this one point? 

I think I heard Charlie say something once that I didn’t like, but I don’t remember what it was. He didn’t speak perfectly and I don’t listen perfectly. He did address our culture, the indoctrination of young minds, the role of government, the responsibility of parents, and other issues that many, many of us care about. 

Above all else, he followed Christ. He carried the Gospel to the stage of the world. I can only accept the challenge of this man’s example and continue to proclaim the truth.

 No Charlie Kirk quote here, only this…

“If any earthly institution or custom conflicts with God’s will, it is your Christian duty to oppose it. You must never allow the transitory, evanescent demands of man-made institutions to take precedence over the eternal demands of the Almighty God.”                                                                               –Martin Luther King, Jr.

The conversation must live on. Evil snuffed out the flame of one voice, but watch out, there’s a fire burning.