Spend all your time waiting for that second chance For the break that will make it ok
This is full of meaning for me - we all have problems in our lives, and we all try to work them out in our own way. But to hear it sung like this gives the whole notion a solid meaning for me. It seems we're always getting things wrong, and we're always picking ourselves back up, but we always fall back down. We tell ourselves to rely on God, to have faith, and we should. But we need to understand that idea from a different angle, instead of it being a hallow platitude. We have to learn by experience. That's the second chance the song speaks of. We're told that the reason we mess up is because we're not trying as hard as we could be; that if we just went that extra mile, if we just resolved to will that one thing, we'd get it right. That's the break that will make it ok. But we 'spend all our time waiting' for it. And it never comes. I need to realize that it's a combination of things. We try our hardest, of course; but we also have God's grace, which is an active power, given by the Spirit, to purify our spirits, bring us peace, strength, a Being that more and more mirrors Christ. It's just so hard to see, understand, or find this assurance.
There's always some reason to feel “not good enough? And it's hard at the end of the day
This speaks to me, because I like to use 'reason' alot. The above reasoning is what plagues spiritual progress - if you try harder, if you figure out the game of life, you'll be able to get ahead and win or win more often than you do now. But the point is that we have to fall back on the comfort God gives, and that baffles those who want a formula: it can't be a formula, since it's different for each individual. The formula is that which sooths the Reason - but Faith annoys Reason, and so it's hard at the end of the day, you can't figure the riddle out, and we're filled with anxiety. And we'll never satify our own expectations about what constitutes 'good enough', so we always feel inadequate, and we'll continue to feel that way unless we define our worth by Christ in us instead of some abritrary guideline we cooked up for ourselves. This is what starves the spirit, and this is what causes despair and ruin. But Christ is the bread of life.
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release Memories seep from my veins They may be empty and weightless, and maybe I'll find some peace tonight
The French philosopher Pascal speaks about 'distraction' alot in his Pansee's. It's how we deal with - almost unconsciously - our own despair, or what he calls 'our wretchedness'. Kierkegaard noted that everyone wants the poet to suffer because when he suffers, wonderful art is given birth. And this is what we fail to notice in ourselves. God's crucible, our pain, His compulsion, is not only our liberation, but the means whereby his divine workmanship is painted on the canvas. Of course it hurts, and that's the point - but we bear our crosses in faith, trusting that He who began a good work in us will carry it out until the day of completion, St. Paul says. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, King David sung. We are a divine work of art. This is the 'beautiful release', however that happens to manifest itself relative to our own individuality.
It seems that the 'memories seeping from her veins' are one of the primary fountains that come surging into our consciousness once the 'release' happens. We remember something, and it itself becomes the muse which the Spirit inspires, which eventually plants the seed of our own spiritual maturation. As a result, we grow, and unbeknownst to us, but known to God and His hosts, another stroke of God's paintbrush has just been added onto our visage.
It is hard to see now how much meaning there is in such inner struggle, and so they may seem empty and weightless, but we will find peace - maybe not right away, but in God's timing.
And then we get to the sublime chorus:
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
God carries us in our suffering and trevail. I use the 'hotel room' as a metaphor for any 'wondering in the desert' we happen to be in. You see the 'endlessness that you fear'? It seems to go on and on, with no answer in sight. But maybe we're not meant to find an answer. Why do I deserve an answer? What if I swell in pride at the fact that I have the answer? What if not having the answer is my answer? That the question itself is my answer, because it's not meant to have an answer, since the aim of the question is to change - in some mystical way - the one who questions, and the answer becomes that person one changes into.
I love the metaphor of 'wreckage', because it makes me imagine that our trials are undiscovered islands, and that our spiritual sanity is a ship which lost its way, and is now wreckage on the beach. We suffer a 'reverie', a delirium, since that's what sin does, but God swoops down and rips us from its clutches, and we see the island shrink as we soar higher and higher into the blue sky if His blessedness. That 'comfort' is a feeling beyond all rational analysis; it's a peace given to us through grace, and most definitely through the mysterious power of suffering.
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn There's vultures and thieves at your back
Perhaps the 'straight line' is the purely ethical way of life, which is good, but the Religious life is so much deeper and wider and richer; with the former, we have the risk of being a Pharisee. God doesn't want us to follow rules well, but to be transformed into little Christs. Suffering is the road to this transformative event. But we have enemies - vultures and thieves. And we all can relate to this. The world is full of selfishness, vanity, greed, and pride. Sometimes we get exploited, used, insulted, looked over, ignored, or even abused. But we have to press on, run the race, endure, perservere - if none of this happened to us, if we were pampered all our lives, who knows what snobbish creatures we'd turn into, and yet all of us have some of these traits. But the point is that alot of times our neighbor doesn't help or even hurts our journey. This is most dangerous, because the slightest bump or chink in our armor could send us down a path - without our even recognizing it - of eventual destruction. That is why 'loving our neighbor' is the second highest commandment. But this rarely happens. One day it will happen perfectly for eternity.
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies That you make up for all that you lack
The image of a storm is perfect - the waves of the sea toss our ships to and fro, the breakers crash over the sides of our frail little boats, the lightning flashes and we catch a glimps of the mountainous valleys that encircle us, the booming thunder deafens us, the whistling rain feels like needles, our rudder is broken, our sails have ripped, our mast is snapping - and yet it keeps on twisting. Who shall save us from this tempest? And we know how much of a reed we are. The only way to save face in front of our peers or anyone is to tell lies. A lie is a very mysterious and complex affair - it is a statement, it is heard by the listener, and depending on whether the listener is convinced, a contrived image or conception is formed in the listener's mind, which completely shrouds the truth that the liar concealed. We pack on layer after layer until we've built an identity of our choosing, an image that isn't anymore God's, but our own. And we're satisfied and at ease if we're skilled, but there comes that vexing time when we're alone, confronted with those defects we can't hide from ourselves, barring complete self-deception, which is what happens when sin runs its course. As long we are given the grace to realize the level of deception going on, we can still be redeemed, accept the truth of what we are, and the Truth shall set us free.
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time It's easier to believe In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness That brings me to my knees
And this is the last glorious step. I love this line. This is the leap of faith! To 'believe'. To just believe in Him, trust Him, and love Him. In the whole of the ugly predicament seen thus far, we can perfectly call it this 'sweet madness'. This sweet madness. Just ponder that notion. It's madness, as all the skeptics and Jobs would be quick to point out. But it's sweet, for it leads to our exodus; it is the dew that forms on the leaf in the morning because of the sun. The leap of faith is so rediculed because it's so contrary to Reason, but this faith has its own reasons (Pascal) that Reason doesn't have a clue about. It's the kind of reason that changes the person, rather than answers the mind. And there's a sweetness about this numinous feeling, which t
akes the form of comfort spoken of earlier. It's also a 'glorious sadness', a despair which leads to salvation, and salvation that wouldn't have been given a second thought if not for the prior despair. It is the curious pain in the back that leads you to the doctor, so you have the surgery in time before the growth turns into cancer. It is that 'awefullness' which bends the knee and receives the Spirit's treatment.
Job 42: 5-6: I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.
This is full of meaning for me - we all have problems in our lives, and we all try to work them out in our own way. But to hear it sung like this gives the whole notion a solid meaning for me. It seems we're always getting things wrong, and we're always picking ourselves back up, but we always fall back down. We tell ourselves to rely on God, to have faith, and we should. But we need to understand that idea from a different angle, instead of it being a hallow platitude. We have to learn by experience. That's the second chance the song speaks of. We're told that the reason we mess up is because we're not trying as hard as we could be; that if we just went that extra mile, if we just resolved to will that one thing, we'd get it right. That's the break that will make it ok. But we 'spend all our time waiting' for it. And it never comes. I need to realize that it's a combination of things. We try our hardest, of course; but we also have God's grace, which is an active power, given by the Spirit, to purify our spirits, bring us peace, strength, a Being that more and more mirrors Christ. It's just so hard to see, understand, or find this assurance.
There's always some reason to feel “not good enough? And it's hard at the end of the day
This speaks to me, because I like to use 'reason' alot. The above reasoning is what plagues spiritual progress - if you try harder, if you figure out the game of life, you'll be able to get ahead and win or win more often than you do now. But the point is that we have to fall back on the comfort God gives, and that baffles those who want a formula: it can't be a formula, since it's different for each individual. The formula is that which sooths the Reason - but Faith annoys Reason, and so it's hard at the end of the day, you can't figure the riddle out, and we're filled with anxiety. And we'll never satify our own expectations about what constitutes 'good enough', so we always feel inadequate, and we'll continue to feel that way unless we define our worth by Christ in us instead of some abritrary guideline we cooked up for ourselves. This is what starves the spirit, and this is what causes despair and ruin. But Christ is the bread of life.
I need some distraction, oh beautiful release Memories seep from my veins They may be empty and weightless, and maybe I'll find some peace tonight
The French philosopher Pascal speaks about 'distraction' alot in his Pansee's. It's how we deal with - almost unconsciously - our own despair, or what he calls 'our wretchedness'. Kierkegaard noted that everyone wants the poet to suffer because when he suffers, wonderful art is given birth. And this is what we fail to notice in ourselves. God's crucible, our pain, His compulsion, is not only our liberation, but the means whereby his divine workmanship is painted on the canvas. Of course it hurts, and that's the point - but we bear our crosses in faith, trusting that He who began a good work in us will carry it out until the day of completion, St. Paul says. We are fearfully and wonderfully made, King David sung. We are a divine work of art. This is the 'beautiful release', however that happens to manifest itself relative to our own individuality.
It seems that the 'memories seeping from her veins' are one of the primary fountains that come surging into our consciousness once the 'release' happens. We remember something, and it itself becomes the muse which the Spirit inspires, which eventually plants the seed of our own spiritual maturation. As a result, we grow, and unbeknownst to us, but known to God and His hosts, another stroke of God's paintbrush has just been added onto our visage.
It is hard to see now how much meaning there is in such inner struggle, and so they may seem empty and weightless, but we will find peace - maybe not right away, but in God's timing.
And then we get to the sublime chorus:
In the arms of an Angel, fly away from here From this dark, cold hotel room, and the endlessness that you fear You are pulled from the wreckage of your silent reverie You're in the arms of an Angel; may you find some comfort here
God carries us in our suffering and trevail. I use the 'hotel room' as a metaphor for any 'wondering in the desert' we happen to be in. You see the 'endlessness that you fear'? It seems to go on and on, with no answer in sight. But maybe we're not meant to find an answer. Why do I deserve an answer? What if I swell in pride at the fact that I have the answer? What if not having the answer is my answer? That the question itself is my answer, because it's not meant to have an answer, since the aim of the question is to change - in some mystical way - the one who questions, and the answer becomes that person one changes into.
I love the metaphor of 'wreckage', because it makes me imagine that our trials are undiscovered islands, and that our spiritual sanity is a ship which lost its way, and is now wreckage on the beach. We suffer a 'reverie', a delirium, since that's what sin does, but God swoops down and rips us from its clutches, and we see the island shrink as we soar higher and higher into the blue sky if His blessedness. That 'comfort' is a feeling beyond all rational analysis; it's a peace given to us through grace, and most definitely through the mysterious power of suffering.
So tired of the straight line, and everywhere you turn There's vultures and thieves at your back
Perhaps the 'straight line' is the purely ethical way of life, which is good, but the Religious life is so much deeper and wider and richer; with the former, we have the risk of being a Pharisee. God doesn't want us to follow rules well, but to be transformed into little Christs. Suffering is the road to this transformative event. But we have enemies - vultures and thieves. And we all can relate to this. The world is full of selfishness, vanity, greed, and pride. Sometimes we get exploited, used, insulted, looked over, ignored, or even abused. But we have to press on, run the race, endure, perservere - if none of this happened to us, if we were pampered all our lives, who knows what snobbish creatures we'd turn into, and yet all of us have some of these traits. But the point is that alot of times our neighbor doesn't help or even hurts our journey. This is most dangerous, because the slightest bump or chink in our armor could send us down a path - without our even recognizing it - of eventual destruction. That is why 'loving our neighbor' is the second highest commandment. But this rarely happens. One day it will happen perfectly for eternity.
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep on building the lies That you make up for all that you lack
The image of a storm is perfect - the waves of the sea toss our ships to and fro, the breakers crash over the sides of our frail little boats, the lightning flashes and we catch a glimps of the mountainous valleys that encircle us, the booming thunder deafens us, the whistling rain feels like needles, our rudder is broken, our sails have ripped, our mast is snapping - and yet it keeps on twisting. Who shall save us from this tempest? And we know how much of a reed we are. The only way to save face in front of our peers or anyone is to tell lies. A lie is a very mysterious and complex affair - it is a statement, it is heard by the listener, and depending on whether the listener is convinced, a contrived image or conception is formed in the listener's mind, which completely shrouds the truth that the liar concealed. We pack on layer after layer until we've built an identity of our choosing, an image that isn't anymore God's, but our own. And we're satisfied and at ease if we're skilled, but there comes that vexing time when we're alone, confronted with those defects we can't hide from ourselves, barring complete self-deception, which is what happens when sin runs its course. As long we are given the grace to realize the level of deception going on, we can still be redeemed, accept the truth of what we are, and the Truth shall set us free.
It don't make no difference, escaping one last time It's easier to believe In this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness That brings me to my knees
And this is the last glorious step. I love this line. This is the leap of faith! To 'believe'. To just believe in Him, trust Him, and love Him. In the whole of the ugly predicament seen thus far, we can perfectly call it this 'sweet madness'. This sweet madness. Just ponder that notion. It's madness, as all the skeptics and Jobs would be quick to point out. But it's sweet, for it leads to our exodus; it is the dew that forms on the leaf in the morning because of the sun. The leap of faith is so rediculed because it's so contrary to Reason, but this faith has its own reasons (Pascal) that Reason doesn't have a clue about. It's the kind of reason that changes the person, rather than answers the mind. And there's a sweetness about this numinous feeling, which t
akes the form of comfort spoken of earlier. It's also a 'glorious sadness', a despair which leads to salvation, and salvation that wouldn't have been given a second thought if not for the prior despair. It is the curious pain in the back that leads you to the doctor, so you have the surgery in time before the growth turns into cancer. It is that 'awefullness' which bends the knee and receives the Spirit's treatment.Job 42: 5-6: I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear: but now mine eye seeth thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.
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