“Can a horse tell you what it means to be human? How can a horse get beyond the boundaries of being a horse and say what it means to be human? Why do we think a human being can say what it means to be God? And yet we’ve done that; we’ve done that and we said that we’ve got it so right that if you don’t believe it we’ll burn you at the stake. That’s a very strange idea.”
~ John Shelby Spong.

“I walked to-day in sheltered wooded valleys; and at one point, in a very lonely and secluded lane, leaned long upon a gate that led into a little forest clearing, to watch the busy and intent life of the wood. There were the trees extending their fresh leaves to the rain; the birds slipped from tree to tree; a mouse frisked about the grassy road; a hundred flowers raised their bright heads.

None of these little lives have, I suppose, any conception of the extent of life that lies about them; each of them knows the secrets and instinct of its own tiny brain, and guesses perhaps at the thoughts of the little lives akin to it. Yet every tiniest, shortest, most insignificant little life has its place in the mind of God.

It seemed to me then such an amazing, such an arrogant thing to define to describe, to limit the awful mystery of the Creator and His purpose. Even to think of Him, as He Is spoken of in the Old Testament, with fierce and vindictive schemes, with flagrant partialities, seemed to me nothing but a dreadful profanation.

And then all these anxious visions left me; and I felt for awhile like a tiny spray of seaweed floating on an infinite sea, with the brightness of the morning overhead. I felt that I was Indeed set where I found myself to be, and that if now my little heart and brain are too small to hold the truth, yet I thanked God for making even the conception of the mystery, the width, the depth possible to me; and I prayed to Him that He would give me as much of the truth as I could bear.”
~ From: The Thread of Gold, by A C Benson

The Mystery

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