In Cloud and Shadow
i In Cloud and Shadow
I In Cloud and Shadow This opening selection of George Matheson's prayers, poems and meditations reflects a theme to which he came back again and again in his writings and which was obviously closely related to his own blindness. They speak of finding God in the darkness of clouds and shadows and provide a striking contrast to the more conventional portrayal of the Almighty as light.
Matheson himself clearly found God in the darkness of his own blindness and he was attracted by those Biblical texts, particularly in the Old Testament, where the Lord is compared to a cloud or shadow. He found this imagery highly suggestive in a number of different ways.
Most obviously it underlined the fact that the _ Lord was present in the bad times as well as the good..It also sounded a note of universality about the human encounter with the divine. As he puts it in '"The Medium of the Spirit'': ''We do not all meet under the sunbeam, but we all meet under the cloud''. The cloud could also be interpreted more positively as the shadow of God's wing, as it is in the poem ''The Fire and the Cloud''. For Matheson it also hinted at something better to come — he felt with the proverb that "'The darkest hour is that before the dawn''. This sense of expectancy and promise strongly underlies the last three extracts in this selection.
The Dark Things of Life "He discovereth deep things out of darkness, and bringeth out to light the shadow of death.''
Job ¥2°22 My soul, do not despise the shadows of life. Do not say that they are exceptions to the proof of Divine Intelligence; do not exclaim when they are passing over thee that thy way is hid from the Lord. These shadows are sent to thee, not as hidings, but as revelations of the face of God; they come to thee as messengers of light. They tell thee what thou couldst not know without them — that there is a life stronger than the natural life. How couldst thou learn that, if the natural life never failed thee? How could faith begin if sight were perfect? How could trust exist if there were no darkness? It is the darkness that lights thee, it is from the shadows that thy spiritual nature is illuminated. From the sense of human emptiness thou reachest that prophetic hunger which is certain to be filled; thy life rises, phoenix-like, from the ashes of thy dying, and out of thy deepest darkness God says,
'"'Let there be light''.
Moments on the Mount
The Medium of the Spirit "The Lord came down in a cloud, and spake unto him, and took of the Spirit that was upon him, and gave it unto the seventy elders."'
Numbers 11:25
God often speaks to me in a cloud — reveals Himself through that which seems an absence of revelation. The hour of sorrow becomes my hour of communion, and the silence of earth is vocal with songs of heaven. But the great advantage of my cloud is that it breaks my solitude. It seems beforehand to be a source of solitude. It threatens to be something which will hide me from the eyes of my brother man and drive me within the temple of my own soul. In reality it has the opposite effect. The message which comes to me through the cloud comes to me as a message for humanity. It first clothes me in the spirit of peace, and then it takes the spirit it has put upon me, and puts it on my fellow-labourers. It enables me to feel that I have one common burden with those who work by my side. It tells me that I am never so little alone, never so near to the mass of mankind, as under the shadow of the night. We do not all meet under the sunbeam, but we all meet under the cloud. The cloud is the true conductor of the electric spark of love. It carries my life into your
_ life, my thought into your thought, my heart into your heart. It finds an entrance through the walls which prosperity has reared between man and man and unites the soul of David to the soul of Jonathan.
Son of Man, let Thy cross be my medium of human brotherhood. Under the shadow of Thy cloud let me meet face to face with the soul of my fellow-man. May we be bound together in the unity of Thy Spirit — the spirit of sacrifice, the spirit of self-surrendering love. May we be united by the fellowship of the mystery — the mystery of suffering. We have failed to be united by the fellowship of prosperity, the participation in a common joy. Join us by Thy cross, O Son of Man; unite us by Thy sacrifice; connect us by Thy cloud. Bring our hearts into sympathy by the contact of a kindred experience, by the touch of acommon cross, by the pain of a united. martyrdom. Let us walk through the furnace not one by one but three by three and seeing ever the form of a fourth in the likeness of Thyself.
It shall be worth while to have met Thee in the cloud if the spirit which Thou there shalt give me shall be the spirit of humanity.
Voices of the Spirit
The Fire and the Cloud "In the day-time also He led them with a cloud, and all the night with a light of fire.'' Psalm
78:14
Lend me, O Lord, Thy softening cloud When sunshine makes a heaven below, Lest in the desert I be proud, Forgetful whence the sunbeams flow!
2 Lend me, O Lord, Thy fire Divine When darkness hides Thee from my soul, Lest in the desert I repine, Forgetful whence the shadows roll!
3 Be Thou the shade on my right hand When in my strength I stand alone; And when in night I lose the land, Be Thou my star, my guiding One!
4 Cloud of the Cross, Light of the Crown, With eve and morn my path beset; Let pride on Calvary's steep lie down, Let faith arise on Olivet!
5 Thy cloud that meets me in the day Is but the shadow of Thy wing, Concealing from my sight the way, That faith alone may homeward bring.
6 Thy fire that meets me in the night Is the full brightness of Thy face, Revealing through my tears a light That leads me to Thy dwelling-place.
Sacred Songs
God's Promise of the Cloud "The shadow of a great rock in a weary land."'
Isaiah 32:3
God is commonly represented as a light to the soul; here He is represented as a shadow to the soul. This latter experience is one which we do not often think of. We are quite familiar with prayers for the sunshine. We say constantly,
''Rise upon our night, Thou better Sun, and let the clouds melt before Thy glory!' But we are not in the habit of saying, ''O Thou Divine Cloud, grant us a moment of Thy Shadow; come and shade us from the glare and glitter of the garish day!' Such a prayer would be deemed very original, perhaps very unsuitable. And yet there are times in which man needs nothing so much as a withdrawal of light. There are times in which the only chance for a human soul is the pulling down of the window-blinds.
We pray, ''Enlighten our eyes!'' but often we can only get our inner eye enlightened by having the outer eye shaded. Is the soul never to get moments for repose — for meditation, selfreflection! Is it never to have an hour all to itself
— an hour when its doors are shut, when its windows are covered, when its outside voices are hushed, when it is untouched by the heat of the day! God says, ''Yes, it shall have such moments''; and He prepares a place for it in the wilderness. He stops me midway in the race. He lays His hand upon me, and I fall. He bears me into the silence, into the solitude. He puts the multitude all out, and locks the door. He closes
the shutters of the casement. He interrupts the music in the street; He forbids the dancing in the hall. He says, ''Your nerves are weary with excitement; in this desert place you shall rest awhile."'
O Lord my God, have I ever thanked Thee for the shadow; have I ever said with the Psalmist,
''The Lord is the shade on my right hand, therefore the sun will not smite me by day, neither the moon by night''! Alas, my Father, mine has been the opposite fear; I am afraid of being smitten by the absence of the sun, by the absence of the moon. I have never realized the healing power of the shadow. I have been praying, ''Lead, kindly light!' all the time Thou wert giving the command, ''Lead, kindly Shade!"'
In my day of darkness Thy light broke. I never knew my immortality till, behind the curtains drawn, I felt my sin. It was the shadow taught me immortality.
The sunshine said, "'The building is complete; why look for a tomorrow!"'
But the shadow said, ''You are unfinished; there is a tower wanting; there is something to come."'
The sunshine cried, ''You are satisfied on earth; earth is your portion.''
But the shadow murmured, ''Your powers are unfilled here; you wait a wider field''. The sunshine sang, "'This is the day the Lord hath made''. But the shadow whispered ''The end is not yet; there remaineth a rest to the people of God''. Thy shadow, O
Lord, has been better than man's light.
Rests by the River
The Shadow of God "The children of men put their trust under the shadow of Thy wings'' Psalm 36:7
There is a shadow that calms our cares, There is a curtain that brings us light,
There is a cloud that the Father wears When His love is too strong for sight; When the fire of His presence draws too near
He brings me down to the valley's shade, And His glory is hid from eye and ear In the cloud that His love has made.
2 I thought at first when my sorrow came It proved that my Father was far away, And in all the world there was no name To whom my soul could pray; But when, ere ever the cloud passed by, I felt a strength in the midst of gloom,
I knew that my Father must be nigh, And my heart burst into bloom.
3 I have reared in shadow my flower of love, It has bloomed, O Father, by night to Thee;
It has opened its petals to hopes above, To a day it could not see; And in time to come I shall fear no foe,
Though the sky be dark and the air be chill, For I know that the flower of love can glow
When the sun has set on the hill.
— Sacred Songs
The Unexpected Door of Revelation "A voice came out of the cloud'' Mark 9:7
If you had been standing on the Mount of Transfiguration you would have said, ''Here at last I shall have a revelation from the silent heaven.'' You would have felt in looking round that there was hardly a single door through which that revelation might not come. You would have expected it from the glittering garments. You would have looked for it from the shining face. You would have anticipated it from the two celestial visitors. You would have been prepared to receive it from the audible words of communion between the two worlds. You would have said, '"There is only one little corner where I expect a shut door; I see a tiny cloud covering a bit of the blue.'' Now, what is the real state of the case? In the whole of that mountain scene there was only one object which became the avenue for revelation — it was the tiny cloud! None of the likely things became a medium. The white garments said nothing. The shining countenance revealed nothing.The celestial visitors brought nothing. The converse of heaven and earth explained nothing. But the cloud — the despised cloud — the rejected cloud
— the cloud that seemed to throw a damper on the scene — that-was the thing which spoke, that was the thing which revealed the glory of the Son of Man! Nobody would now deny that it is the cloud which has revealed Christ's glory; our watchword is not the shining of His countenance, but the shadow of His Cross. Yet
not of Christ alone has the symbol proved true; the voice to you and me has come from the cloud. What reveals our higher birth? Is it the shining garment of our mountain moments — the triumphs of reason, the discoveries of science, the achievements of art, the advances of music?
Not these. Is it the increase in the power of human converse — the marvels of steam and electricity? Not these. Is it the possession of tabernacles of gold — the trappings of wealth, the homes of luxury, the gardens of pleasure?
Not these. It is our cloud that reveals our origin.
It is our wants that prove our birth. It is our thirst that betrays our aristocracy. It is the rent in our garment that shows how we in the body are not at home. We have torn our garb because it is too small for us; our cloud has made our parentage clear.
I thank Thee, O Lord, for the void places in my heart; they reveal more than does the furniture.
I see Thee nearest where I am not filled; it is the empty air that gives me wings. All my treasures have come from the shadow. My faith needs the fog. My prayer needs the precipice. My trust needs the tempest. My sympathy needs the sacrifice. My mercy needs the miserable. My truth needs temptation.
My pity needs painfulness. My peace needs powers opposing.
My spotlessness needs contact with a stain. How could I hope if there were no haze!
— hope would be lost in certainty. How could I be patient if there were no perils! — patience would melt in fruition. How could I be charitable if
there were no cheerless! — charity would fade in wastefulness. How could I feel immortal if there were no insufficiency! — earth would be then my fitting rest.
It is on the wings of weakness I fly to Thee. It is in the days of darkness I cry to Thee. It is in the sense of sinfulness I sigh to Thee. My gem lies in my conscious degeneracy; I discern my origin when
I recognize the dust. The ring and the robe may welcome me back, the music and the dancing may greet my return; but it is the famine that tells me I am wandered, it is the sense of the swine-husks that brings me home.
Rests by the River
Il Now We See Through a Glass Darkly
IT Now We See Through a Glass Darkly One of the effects of George Matheson's blindness was to heighten his sense that in this world we only glimpse a tiny part of the glory that is one day going to be revealed to us. He had a great sense of the beauty that lay hidden not just from those like himself who were without the use of their eyes but from all of us because of our spiritual imperfection and blindness. This theme is vividly explored in his poem, ""The Hidden Beauty"' and it lies behind all the writings in this section.
Matheson felt strongly that it is only in the light of God's ultimate plan and our eternal destiny that the present world, with its joys as well as its sorrows, will be explained and made clear.
This is the central message of his meditations ''In the Light of Eternity' and ''How to Search for Truth''. All that we can do here and now is to make the leap of faith that must precede knowledge (''Faith and Knowledge''), let our imaginataion soar up to the hills rather than keeping our eyes cast down on the prosaic plains (''The Beginnings of Salvation'') and follow the orbitless star (''Man's
Premonition of Christmas Bells'').
The Hidden Beauty "The earnest expectation of the creation waiteth for the manifestation of the sons of God"' Romans
8:19
Lord, Thou hast spread o'er earth and sea A beauty yet unknown to me, All buried from my view; I have not seen one half the charms That nature folds within her arms, Ancient but ever new.
2 Creation doth not yet command A meed of justice from my hand For all that Thou hast given; If I had but another sense, Her beauties would be so intense That earth would be my heaven.
3 I do not need to soar above To find in dwellings of Thy love A lovelier scene than earth; One dormant lens revived to power Would kindle tints in every flower That would renew my birth.
4 Creation waits as ages roll, Expectant of the perfect soul To look upon her face — Expectant of the glorious day When man with powers of larger ray Shall see Thy hidden grace.
5 Thou keepest for the coming eye A thousand colours in the sky Unpainted in my dream; Thou keepest for the future ear A thousand notes of music clear That now all-voiceless seem.
6 'Tis not in change of earth or air I seek a paradise more rare, More beautiful to see; 'Tis only by my widening mind I hope a fairer world to find — Increased in wealth to me.
7 Before my soul Thy beauty waits, And entrance seeks at fastened gates That no response return; Thy flowers are left beside each door, And there they lie the long year o'er For every foot to spurn.
8 But when my doors shall open wide, I shall behold a sight outside That shall inspire my praise; For, in the meanest forms below, The light of all Thy worlds shall glow With ever-varied rays.
9 Praise waits for Thee in nature, Lord; It waits till human life has soared To its appointed height, When Thou shalt end Thy work in man, Then only shall we hail the plan That said, ''Let there be light!"'
Sacred songs
In the Light of Eternity 'In thy light shall we see light'"' Psalm 36:9
"The lamb is the light thereof'' Revelation 21:23
Nothing is seen in its own light — not even a visible thing. A landscape is not seen in its own light; it is perceived very much in the light of yesterday. How little of what you see is mere perception! Every sight of nature is tinged with the light of memory. The poet looks from the bridge at midnight upon the rushing waters; but what he sees is not the flowing tide, it is a tide of memory which fills his eyes with tears. You listen to the babbling of the brook; but what you hear is not the babbling, it is the utterance of a dear name. You visit Rome, you visit Jerusalem, you visit Greece; do you see any of these by its own light? No; they are all beheld by the light of yesterday; there is their glory, there lies their gold! ''Even so,"' cries the Psalmist, "'it is with this world; if you want to see it, you must look at it by the light of another world — God's coming world. He does not mean that when we quit the scenes of earth we shall have a bright light in heaven.
It is more than that. It is for the scenes of earth he wants the heavenly light. He says you cannot interpret your own skies without it. We often say that in the light of eternity earthly objects will fade from our sight. But the Psalmist says that until we get the light of eternity earthly objects will not be in our sight.
It is by the light of the Celestial City — the City which has no need of the sun — that alone
we can tell what here is large and what here is small.
Thou Lamb, slain from the foundation of the world, Thou art the Light thereof! When God said, ''Let us make man!'' He meant not Adam, but Thee. Thou art the plan of the great building; to Thee all things move. By no other light can
I understand the struggles of this earth. Not by nature's light can I understand them; I have seen the physical sunshine sparkle on my pain, and I thought it a cruel thing. Not by philosophy's light can I understand them; I have seen the great thinker impeded by poverty and I thought it an unseemly thing. Not in beauty's light can
I understand them; I have seen the artist lose his eyesight and I thought it an unrighteous thing. But if the world is being woven for Thee,
I understand. If Thy type of sacrifice is the plan of the Architect, I understand. If Thy cross is
Creation's crown, I understand. If the Celestial City is a home for hospital training, I understand.
If Thine angels are all ministering spirits, I understand. If the purest robe is not the white
- robe but the robe washed white, if the goal of man is not Eden but Gethsemane, if the glory of Thy Father is the sacrificial blood of love, then have I found the golden key, in Thy Light I have seen Light!
Leaves for Quiet Hours
The Beginnings of Salvation "How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of Him that bringeth good things!"' Isaiah 52:7
Christ in the soul descends from the mountain to the valley. Divine knowledge follows the opposite course to human knowledge. Human knowledge rises from earth to heaven; the boy learns geography before he studies astronomy.
But Divine knowledge descends from heaven to earth. Its first influence is exerted on the high places, the places nearest the sky. The feet of Christ are first seen on the mountains. The beginning of the Divine life is high aspiration.
You have seen the tops of the hills aflame with morning gold while the plain and the valley were in shadow. Even so is it with the life of the soul.
If you want to know a man's spiritual prospects, it is to the hills you must lift up your eyes. You must judge his morning hours not by what he does but by what he thinks. You must measure him by his aspirations. You must seek the feet of the coming Lord, not in the man's deeds, but in his desires to do. That is why at the beginning we are said to be justified, not by works, but by faith. It is a great kindness in our
Father to make the test of us, not what we do, but what-we dream of. In the absence of our good actions our Father will impute to us our good dreams. He will accept Christ's footprints while as yet they are only on the mountains.
And that is my comfort, O my Father. My deeds are far behind. Neither on the plain nor in the valley do I yet reveal Thy footprints. But the mountains are already in a glow. I have dreams of Thy Christ, aspirings after His beauty, longings for His love. Though not yet do I follow
Him, He stands upon my highest hill. He is the climax of my hopes, the acme of my wishes, the height of my ambitions, the ideal of what I should like to be. On the mountain of my heart.
His feet are already beautiful. Keep Thine eye upon the mountain, O my Father! Behold my dreams of Him, my dreams of Thee! Look not yet on my plain! Gaze not yet on my valley!
Expect not yet the footprints of Thy Christ on the beaten path! My walk is still imperfect, but I have learned to soar.
Judge me by my soaring!
Receive me by the rising of my wing! Accept my cry for Thy Christ! Open Thy gates to my dreams of Thee! Unbar Thy heavens to the mere sigh of my spirit! Meet me on the mountain — on the places paved as yet only with my good intentions! Come to me with the ring and the robe and the welcome while for Thee I have only the resolve, ''I will arise and go to my Father''!
Behold in that desire the feet of Thy Christ upon the hill!
Rests by the River
Man's Premonition of Christmas Bells '"'We have seen His star.'' Matthew 2:2
The star was a thing for which Nature had no use.
It served no physical purpose.
It was superfluous so far as secular need is concerned; there was no place for it in the merely natural sky. That is the reason the wise men believed it to be supernatural. Its light gave no help to the present world; they said, ''It must have a function in some other world.'' And this is precisely how we reason in our moments of premonition. We see something very beautiful for which we can find no earthly purpose; and we say, ''It must have a purpose elsewhere; we have seen the light of an undawned day.''
What, for example, is the mundane use of poetry! Does it help the development of the world! To the business man it is rather a hindrance; it tends to make him unpractical.
To the schoolboy it is a retardation; it makes him dream when he should be studying; you cannot see the beauties of ''Paradise Lost'' at the same time that you are parsing it. To the dispenser of charity it is a barrier — real sorrow seems so prosaic compared with ideal sorrow.
Whence then has it come — seeing that earthly need has not created it! It is not an evolution; it is a premonition. For any time-purpose it might be called a useless organ; but its use is coming. It tells us that we are preparing for something ideal — for a Christ who is ''fairer than the children of men,'' for an ''Altogether
Lovely,'' for a presence ''without blemish and
without spot''; in poetry ''we have seen His — star.''
I thank thee, O Lord, that there are things in this world which this world does not need. I thank Thee that there are things called unpractical — unusable. It is from these I get my hope; they are my ''star''. Other things give me earthly riches -— the gold and the frankincense and the myrrh; but the star gives me my Christ. My finest treasures are in this world bound in a napkin. My dreams disqualify me, my star-gazing strands me. I seem to be only on the road to a manger — a place where inferior intelligences dwell. So I am, if this world were all. Why hast Thou suffered the boy to see castles in the fire when he ought to be studying his map? Why hast Thou permitted the youth to see stars above his ledger when he ought to be studying his figures? Why hast Thou allowed the maiden to dream of romantic beauties which domestic life will never yield? Why hast Thou caused
Matthew to forget the count of his taxgathering in a vision of loveliness? Why hast
Thou made Peter drop his fishing-rod for a call that could bring no bread? Why hast Thou sent
Nicodemus a night dream that makes him less successful with the world by day? Oh! it is all the star — the star of Bethlehem! It is because in the great world to which I go these powers disused of earth will be all the vogue. It is to ripen me for Thy riches, to train me for Thy treasures, to fit me for Thy fulness, to leaven
(ae
me for Thy light. I thank Thee, O Lord, that, amidst the many constellations whose path I can trace, there is revealed to me at moments one orbitless: star.
Rests by the River
Faith and Knowledge "And we believe and are sure that Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.'' John 6:69
'""'We believe and are sure;'' more strictly it should be rendered, ''We have believed and are sure.'' The thought of the apostle is that there has been a development in his experience; he began by simple faith, and he has ended with assured knowledge. Such is ever the order of the Christian understanding; we first believe, and then we know. Faith is not the opposite of knowledge; it is the anticipation, the prophecy of knowledge. Faith is to knowledge what the swallow is to the summer — the messenger that sings its coming. Faith soars up to heaven in the morning and sees in advance the plan of the unfolding day. It cannot yet trace the plan, it cannot yet tell how the plan is to be unfolded, but it beholds what it cannot analyse, it trusts what it cannot verify.
So was it with the Master when He first said to His disciples, ''Follow me.'' Why should He have hoped that they would follow Him? They did not yet know Him. But He felt that they must follow Him before they knew Him, that they could only come to know Him through the experience of being near Him. And so He called upon another faculty than knowledge; He appealed to the power of their faith. He said,
Give me the prophetic trust of your souls.
Iam come to lead you by the green pastures and beside the quiet waters, to let you know by the walk of experience that the pastures of life are
green, and that the waters of life are quiet. But you can only come to know it by walking with me. You must come to me without knowledge, without proof, without experience; you must_ give me your faith. Pay me with your love in advance. I do not ask it without return; I will repay its value tenfold — in work, in sacrifice, but I cannot work for you unless you will first let me work through you. Grant me your sympathy beforehand. Grant me the mesmeric look of faith, that I may fill your life with my presence. Grant me the steadfast gaze of the eye, that I may transform you into my own image. Grant me the complete surrender of the will, that I may make your will my will. When
° I have made your will my will there shall be no more room for faith; faith shall be lost in sight, and ye shall know as ye are known. Trust me but one hour with the treasure of your hearts, and with rich interest I will give them back to you again; lend them to me with faith, and I will restore them to you with knowledge — that knowledge of me which is life eternal. In that hour you shall be able to say, ''Once we believed, now we are sure.''
Moments on the Mount
How to Search for Truth "God is light.'' 1 John 1:5
Light; what is it? It is not something to search for; it is something to search by. No man by searching can find out God; but, if he take God without searching, he will find everything else. My evidence for God is what He shews me. I must have a torch to begin with. The room is dark and I have lost something — the key to my own nature. I cannot find it till I have struck a light.
There must be light in my hand before I come in — light on the threshold, light at the very door.
My progress must not be from the dark into the clear but from the clear into the dark. God is His own interpreter; in God's light shall we see light.
My Father, come to me in life's dawn. Help me to find the lost key. All things without Thee are mystery, nay, they are impossible; how shall they prove Thee when Thou art needed to prove them?
The manger will not lead me to the star; but the star can lead me to the manger. If Thou art love, then, Thy best gift must be sacrifice; in that light let me search Thy world. It has pains wrapt up in every pleasure, and who shall explain them?
Only Thyself — the Spirit of sacrificial love. We make all things in our own image, and Thou hast made the world in Thine. It is not faultlessly fair; but its spots are from the plan of the Artist. Let me see the Artist ere I gaze on the picture. Be
Thou Thyself my light into every darkness.
Searchings in the Silence