You write beautifully and with a great command of theological terms. I would that such depth could be rendered more accessible to those people who might find it hard to grasp your meaning for lack of the educational and intellectual background. That being said, I find your work so helpful personally that it will inspire and deepen my own, which will, as is my constant prayer, reach those others. I thank God for you - go well!
Thank you for such a generous and thoughtful reflection, your words are both a kindness and a challenge worth holding close. You’re right, of course: the tension between depth and accessibility is a tightrope every theological writer walks (or stumbles across). I confess I’ve often erred on the side of density, not out of disregard for the reader, but because some truths resist simplification without betrayal. The parables themselves were hardly transparent. They demanded, and rewarded, a second glance, a willingness to sit with the discomfort of their edges.
But your point is a sacred one: the deeper the well, the clearer the water ought to be for those who come thirsty. I’ll carry that reminder with me, not as a rebuke but as a compass. And I’m deeply moved to know these musings nourish your own work, and that, perhaps, is the hidden economy of grace. What I write in my register, you may translate for the pew, or the kitchen table, or the quiet heart alone with its doubts. Together, we’re stitching a patchwork liturgy for the lost and found.
So thank you, truly. Keep me honest. And pray I don’t mistake obscurity for depth, or worse, forget that the Word became flesh, not a footnote.
That is one of the most gracious and loving responses anything I have said has ever received. I agree with all you have written, especially grateful that you understood my intentions. I am struggling at the moment to find inspiration and frankly just to keep going with Substack, so to read your article and receive this response have helped greatly. Maybe we could talk together sometime on WhatsApp or Zoom?
Is the separate and always separative fear-saturated ego-"I" or the intrinsically Godless sinner capable of transcending itself, or is he and she actively at war with its own Grace Given help
Thanks for the kind endorsement Mike, but I think you’ve put your finger on the wound, and the wonder. The deepest truths always seem to travel quietly, like bread crumbs dropped for the hungry rather than banners raised for the crowd. I trust the words that matter find the ears that need them, in their own strange time. And look at you, “trying”, which is just another word for faith in motion. Keep scattering the crumbs. The sparrows notice. Grace isn’t measured in metrics, thank God.
You really went into the ‘depth’ of this parable in a manner I have never heard nor read. Utterly beautiful to ‘see’ the truth of what Christ said to the man, and how the man replied unable to say the name Samaritan. I never ever thought of that. Again, I sit in sacred silence. This one is a beaut! God Bless You.
Isn’t it just like Scripture to hide its fiercest truths in the silences? You’ve named the heart of it: Christ doesn’t just answer the man’s question, He ambushes his pride. And now you’ve gone and ambushed me with your kindness. Thank you and God bless!
You write beautifully and with a great command of theological terms. I would that such depth could be rendered more accessible to those people who might find it hard to grasp your meaning for lack of the educational and intellectual background. That being said, I find your work so helpful personally that it will inspire and deepen my own, which will, as is my constant prayer, reach those others. I thank God for you - go well!
Thank you for such a generous and thoughtful reflection, your words are both a kindness and a challenge worth holding close. You’re right, of course: the tension between depth and accessibility is a tightrope every theological writer walks (or stumbles across). I confess I’ve often erred on the side of density, not out of disregard for the reader, but because some truths resist simplification without betrayal. The parables themselves were hardly transparent. They demanded, and rewarded, a second glance, a willingness to sit with the discomfort of their edges.
But your point is a sacred one: the deeper the well, the clearer the water ought to be for those who come thirsty. I’ll carry that reminder with me, not as a rebuke but as a compass. And I’m deeply moved to know these musings nourish your own work, and that, perhaps, is the hidden economy of grace. What I write in my register, you may translate for the pew, or the kitchen table, or the quiet heart alone with its doubts. Together, we’re stitching a patchwork liturgy for the lost and found.
So thank you, truly. Keep me honest. And pray I don’t mistake obscurity for depth, or worse, forget that the Word became flesh, not a footnote.
That is one of the most gracious and loving responses anything I have said has ever received. I agree with all you have written, especially grateful that you understood my intentions. I am struggling at the moment to find inspiration and frankly just to keep going with Substack, so to read your article and receive this response have helped greatly. Maybe we could talk together sometime on WhatsApp or Zoom?
To realize eternal life one must thoroughly and deeply Understand one's situation in Truth & Reality.
Hence http://www.consciousnessitself.org
http://beezone.com/adida/jesusandme.html
Is the Living Divine Reality in any sense absent (or in the ditch)
http://beezone.com/adida/god-is-not-elsewhere.html
Is the separate and always separative fear-saturated ego-"I" or the intrinsically Godless sinner capable of transcending itself, or is he and she actively at war with its own Grace Given help
http://beezone.com/ego-fear/index-47.html
Thanks Zippy.
🤔
You forget the punctuation on the last two ~ (?)
Thank you Steve - "incarnational descent" is a term that I'll walk with from now on.
....an eschatological deposit: The Innkeeper.
Lord, have mercy....
The profoundness of your gift makes me lament that it isn't related to the masses, both in and outside the Church. I'm trying.
Thanks for the kind endorsement Mike, but I think you’ve put your finger on the wound, and the wonder. The deepest truths always seem to travel quietly, like bread crumbs dropped for the hungry rather than banners raised for the crowd. I trust the words that matter find the ears that need them, in their own strange time. And look at you, “trying”, which is just another word for faith in motion. Keep scattering the crumbs. The sparrows notice. Grace isn’t measured in metrics, thank God.
I am deeply grateful for your post. I'm on hallowed ground when I read it. Thank you.
Thank you Diana for the kind words and feedback, I truly appreciate it! But I am most grateful that you continue to abide in Him.
You really went into the ‘depth’ of this parable in a manner I have never heard nor read. Utterly beautiful to ‘see’ the truth of what Christ said to the man, and how the man replied unable to say the name Samaritan. I never ever thought of that. Again, I sit in sacred silence. This one is a beaut! God Bless You.
Isn’t it just like Scripture to hide its fiercest truths in the silences? You’ve named the heart of it: Christ doesn’t just answer the man’s question, He ambushes his pride. And now you’ve gone and ambushed me with your kindness. Thank you and God bless!