The Feathers of God

“For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” Colossians 3:3

I heard the pack of dogs long before I saw them. Howling viciously, barking as if they were on the trail of big prey. They raced past me the first time—beasts that had long since lost any form of domestication. Their eyes were glowing with intent, teeth bared and snapping, saliva dripping down their muzzles as they imagined tearing into the feast of their prey. I trembled at such a terrifying sight, and breathed a sigh of relief as they passed. But then terror gripped me once more as their cries, which had been growing fainter, began to grow louder as the pack circled around to my direction again. A dawning realization sent shivers of fear and anxiety down my spine—I was the prey, they were after me.

The savage snarling grew even louder until the sounds became almost deafening—suddenly, they were standing close enough to me that I could see their crazed eyes and their fangs dripping with lusty drool. Everywhere around me there were snapping jaws of greed, lust, envy, covetousness, seeking my flesh to bite into, to consume, to maim my life in a way that would steal all joy and satisfaction. I could feel a breeze stirring around me as their jaws anxiously snapped the air. They were so close—how is it that they couldn’t see me, find my flesh with their teeth?

All of a sudden, I became aware of the soft presence of feathers around me, and I looked around to see I was in a nest woven of the strongest and finest materials the earth had to offer. The nest was hidden deep in the forest, and the materials were strong enough to repel the pack’s teeth and strength. When my eyes were opened to see this, I felt myself relax, and fall back into my hidden place, into the comfort of the feathers. I was not alone, my sense of self was safe here in its home, protected by the Creator.

The pack grew weary of its empty pursuit, and eventually set off again, looking for other, easier prey. And I sank into the abundant silence that spoke everything I needed to know.

Wisdom and Presence

“So it was continuously; the cloud would cover it by day, and the appearance of fire by night. Whenever the cloud was lifted from over the tent, afterward the sons of Israel would then set out; and in the place where the cloud settled down, there the sons of Israel would camp. At the command of the LORD the sons of Israel would set out, and at the command of the LORD they would camp; as long as the cloud settled over the tabernacle, they remained camped.” Numbers 9: 16-18

“The LORD possessed me at the beginning of His way, before His works of old…Then I was beside Him, as a master workman; And I was daily His delight, rejoicing always before Him, rejoicing in the world, His earth, and having my delight in the human race.” Proverbs 4: 22, 30-31

Today I read this first passage and mused on the mystery of it. God’s tangible presence—either as a fire or a cloud— rested on the tabernacle as a sign that the Israelites were supposed to set up camp and stay awhile. How long? No one knew, and it wouldn’t be until the cloud would lift that they would know it was time to start packing up the camp. It seems that it could be as short as two days and as long as a year—time and schedule are not the driving force or theme of this story. Rather, it is the people living with God as their provider and leader. For what reasons would God decide to move the people on? Did the people ever try to analyze the situation and guess as to different factors? I was struck by the mystery of this, and the wholehearted trust that would require the people to live moment by moment, ready to stay or leave with short notice.

Later, on my morning walk, I listened to a passage on wisdom, personified in the above Proverbs passage. Wisdom hovers with God over creation, delighting in God’s world. God’s wisdom can also be quite mysterious—sometimes it might seem to counter logic or common sense. If all the resources of a campsite are used up, isn’t it time to move on? If the Presence hasn’t lifted, then the answer is ‘No,’ despite the visible circumstances.

Dwelling with God requires attentiveness to his daily guidance, a recognition of the gap between God’s wisdom and my understanding, an embrace of the mystery of these intertwined three—presence, wisdom, guidance. Wisdom is both God’s presence dwelling on the tabernacle, and the removal of the presence, indicating the need to pack up camp. Seeking wisdom is something we are encouraged to do, and God gives it to us both as a gift and also something to foster through a life orientated and open to God’s presence.

The ‘felt’ presence of God is something many of us long for—but it is something that we can neither control, conjure, nor predict. From across the ocean, I have been so moved by the reports of what they are calling the ‘Outpouring‘ at Asbury University. God’s presence suddenly resting on a physical space—confirmation of the Spirit within us and also a foretaste for when God’s tangible presence will dwell with us continually in our material space. Miroslav Volf refers to this in his new book as the time when the a new world becomes the ‘The Home of God.’

I’m not spending much time reading analysis or others’ thoughts on the ‘Outpouring’. Rather, I am allowing myself to be filled with hope at the reports of the students attentively feasting on God’s presence. When the cloud will lift, no one knows. As it is, Asbury is bringing to an end the open door policy for the campus—it seems that the leadership is seeking wisdom about how to live with this fresh experience of God’s presence. The wisdom of God that hovers over the campus, delighting in God’s people, will also guide the students to discern the next steps on their journey.