Introduction
INTRODUCTION
There is not much occasion in America today to walk dark pathways with only a little lamp. It is a world filled with artificial light of many kinds—streetlights, traffic lights, headlights, floodlights, neon lights, flashlights, klieg lights, spotlights. But for all of man’s history, until this century, lamps were needed. In ancient times a tiny clay lamp was sometimes fastened to the thong of a sandal so that the pool of light cast was sufficient only for a single step. The traveler took that step and found light enough for the next. So the psalmist wrote, “Thy word is a lamp to guide my feet and a light on my path” (Ps. 119:105). Solomon exhorted his son to observe his father’s commands and not to reject his mother’s teaching, “for a command is a lamp, and teaching a light” (Prov. 6:23).
Approaching the age of 60, I think it is reasonable to admit that I am, by the biblical norm for life expectancy, old. In America today it is forbidden to use the word. We are “senior citizens,” “golden agers,” “keen-agers,” “mature,” anything but “old.” The assumption is that “old” equals “useless.” It has not always been so. In other times and places “old” has been a term of respect, because the old were assumed to have learned one or two things that could help to make the pathway of life a little clearer to those who followed. It was not thought that the old had learned all they could hope to learn, however. To me, old age is a gift. It is therefore a privilege. It is therefore a responsibility. I have a great deal yet to learn. I am sure of that, and by the grace of God I want to learn it. May I say with the psalmist, “I have thought much about the course of my life and always turned back to thy instruction. I have found more joy along the path of thy instruction than in any kind of wealth” (Ps. 119:59,14). To me, the commandments, that is, all that the Word of God comprises, are a lamp. This book is made up only of reflections—reflections of the true light (though the reflector may distort), written over a period of five or six years, indoors, outdoors, usually early in the morning in some solitary place but occasionally in an airplane or motel room. I have always been aware, ever since I was very small, of needing direction. I have gotten it—first from parents who were quite clear about what was right and what was wrong, what they wanted of us and what they didn’t want. I got it from teachers in public school (they were allowed in those unenlightened days to make what are now called value judgments) and from teachers in Sunday School. I got it from the Bible and from many books. Before I learned to read, I was read to—at least twice a day from the Bible and usually from another book or two as well. At family prayers my father sometimes read a children’s paraphrase of the Bible, but when he opened his own Bible it was the Authorized Version (King James Version). We heard it seven days a week, and consequently our minds were filled with thousands of phrases (effortlessly memorized) of flawless English and shaped by those majestic cadences. This was a priceless gift from our parents, which of course we had no appreciation for at the time. Growing up, I began to be aware of something far more important: My parents really believed that Book and honestly tried to live their whole lives in the light that it shed.
As soon as I learned to read, I was given a leather-bound Bible, inscribed by my parents, which I kept on my bedside table and carried to church. Occasionally I read it by myself, but not very much, so far as I remember, until I went away to boarding school. Homesickness drove me to seek comfort where I knew my parents had found it—in the Bible. My father had given me Deuteronomy 31:8 (KJV) to lean on: “The Lord, he it is that doth go before thee; he will be with thee, he will not fail thee, neither forsake thee: fear not, neither be dismayed.” Strong words for a 14-year-old, words originally spoken by Moses when he turned over to Joshua the staggering burden of leading Israel. It did not occur to me to question my right to claim them. It seemed reasonable to believe that the God who would lead Joshua and had promised not to fail or forsake him would most certainly not fail or forsake a lonely girl. If there was nothing for Joshua to fear in the face of a so much greater task, there was nothing for me to fear either. I confess I was still afraid, sometimes, and have been afraid since those school years. Far more often I have been dismayed, but the lamp has always been there, shining its light if only I would pay attention and walk where it shone, reminding me that there is, after all, no real reason for fear.
Many students ask me for help and direction for their lives. It is always heartening to know that there are those who are willing to receive the kind they know I want to offer, for I always go back to my source: “the path of thy commandments” (Ps. 119:35, KJV). And I desperately want them to find what I have found along that path: joy. So often they fear it will be something quite other than joy. “But look,” I say, “if we’re confused, we need somebody to show us the way and tell us what to do—in other words, we need a Master. He has been this way before. Wouldn’t a sensible person pay attention to what He says and conscientiously try to understand, to apply the truth and to obey the instructions? He’s leading us to our Promised Land! There will be fullness of joy there, and there is plenty of joy en route. Believe me.” So I offer these suggestions, which have helped me for more than half a century:
• Read the Bible. Buy one if you haven’t got one, because you need a copy you can mark. Today there are many excellent modern translations, for example, the New English Bible, the New International Version, The Living Bible and J. B. Phillips’s translation of the New Testament. Reading the Bible takes time, but it is worth more than gold. Figure out how much time you spend daily on things that are worth nothing; then decide how much you can give to Bible reading. My father used to point out that no matter how thick a book may be, it can be got through if you spend 15 minutes a day at it.
• Pray before, during and after your reading. Ask God to help you understand and obey. Let the words of Scripture shape your prayers. (I do not mean to suggest here that prayer books should not also be used. They are full of prayers shaped by Scripture, prayers that have stood the test of time, but it is good to learn to pray while we are reading.)
• Meditate. Learn to be silent. God has told us to be still and know that He is God. Think of that fact in the context of the passage you have read. Give the Holy Spirit a chance to enlighten you. Our prayer should be, “Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth,” not “Hear, Lord, for Thy servant speaketh.”
• Apply the truth. We need the Lord’s help here especially, to show us what these words mean in terms of our own obedience. Pray: “Whatever You show me, Lord, by Your grace I’ll do it.”
• Obey. Now. Today. Do the thing required. If you see nothing that is required, remember the most important thing that is always required: Trust God. Don’t be afraid.
This is a simple book, the fruit of some of my quiet times. As I have reread it, I find that certain themes recur, lessons I have been working on all my life: trust, obedience, the sovereignty of God, sacrifice, suffering, strength, succor, consolation, mystery and paradox. The recurrence of certain passages, certain applications of the Word, is evidence of how slow a learner I am and how often my Teacher needs to assign a review. If the tone sounds didactic, it is primarily because I have tried to take down the lesson as it applied to me, without argument, without equivocation, without pulling punches.
I do not mean to pontificate. You may find quite a different lesson in a passage I have cited. Let the Spirit of God teach you. I do not mean the book to be read at a single sitting, and I most emphatically do not mean it to be read in place of reading the Bible and meditating. It is only meant to be a help. If you have only five minutes, don’t read my book, read God’s. It will be a lamp unto your feet.
Magnolia, Massachusetts
February 1985