Somewhere in mid-sermon last Sunday morning, Ray brought up an analogy (I can't remember who he said he was quoting), which was something to this effect:
You could stay indoors your whole life, studying the sun as a theoretical object in enormous detail, and you could even write the definitive work on the subject. But imagine what a book you could write once you'd actually gone outside one day and felt the sun's heat for yourself!
I happened to be sitting next to a window, with some bright patches of sunlight across my left arm.
For some of us (a lot of us, even?) in the West, faith is much like the study of the sun from indoors. And before anybody else thinks I'm pointing the finger at them, I should point out that I'm only writing this to point it at myself. It took more than 24 hours for the realisation to sink in, but it struck home on Monday evening: I could write a magnificent book on the sun, metaphorically speaking, but I suspect it'd be somewhat on the cold side. Which is not a good feeling.
For me, it seems, spiritual sunburn is still very much in the offing.
- The Colclough