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The Shining Ones A quiet meditation "Though ye have lien among the pots yet shall ye be as the wings of a dove covered with silver, and her feathers with yellow gold." (Psa.68:13) This little gem appears to be out of place in a song of David which seems full of superlatives ascribing to God power and salvation on behalf of a nation, even a world, held in captivity. From among its stirring sentiments peeps this homely vignette of the dove among the pots, those broken fragments of earthenware flung carelessly upon the flat house‑top after the Eastern fashion. The poet‑king may have been sitting upon his own royal roof, thoughtfully plucking the strings of his instrument while seeking inspired words in which to express his unbounded confidence and praise to "him that rideth upon the heavens." (v.33) His mind may suddenly have been arrested by a flight of doves from some humbler roof, a common enough sight, their wings gleaming in the sunlight. If so, he was led to include it in the colourful imagery by which he described God’s ways with man. It is the theme of the obscure brought to beauty from unlikely places by unlikely methods. As David’s eye followed the track of the gentle, domesticated dove, the flashing wings became a flash of insight. Although the bird of peace had made her nest and reared her brood among discarded household rubbish, yet she and her young ones spread wings of silver and gold as they soared untrammelled into the clear air. Some of the world’s finest and most useful people have come from obscure corners and humble homes to shine in the affairs of men like knights in silver armour with breastplates of gold presented to all the fiery darts of a malicious opposition. David himself was one chosen from the sheepcote to be anointed king of Israel. Sallying forth in his shepherd’s tunic, armed with sling and pebbles, he was the knight of God, battling with giant opposition, planting a victorious foot on a loud‑voiced, bragging foe. God’s choice of men, women and circumstances rarely coincide with those of human choice. History has proved how wise and fitting are his arrangements, far above and infinitely better than those thought out by man’s wisdom. God nothing does, nor suffers to be done As Jesus remarked, "They that wear soft clothing are (live) in kings’ houses." (Matt.11:8) When God was preparing a herald for his Son he did not choose a prince from a royal court but a young man bred in the solitude of the wilderness, clad in a coat of camel’s hair. John the Baptist is a far more arresting figure than the cunning, self‑indulgent Herod who put him to death. His place in history is assured for all time as a hero of faith, a prophet of God and much more than a prophet; he prepared the way for the Son of the Highest. Had human wisdom chosen the birthplace of that Son, nothing less than a golden crib in the palace of earth’s mightiest ruler would have satisfied a fastidious choice. But God chose a stable with the manger of the tired donkeys for a cot and that lowly place of birth has captured the imagination of the world. Pilgrims of all nations find their way to Bethlehem, there to bend the knee, to bow head and heart upon that unlikely spot from which emerged the Light of the World. Artists have employed their finest talents endeavouring to depict the scene, when men and angels adored the birth of One who has left an indelible mark upon the history of humanity. Yearly the scene of that humble nativity is enacted in song and story, the theme vaguely understood but closely connected with the life and hopes of humanity. "Arise, shine; for thy light is come, and the glory of the LORD is risen upon thee...Gentiles shall come to thy light, and kings to the brightness of thy rising...Thy light (shall) rise in obscurity." (Isa.60:1,3; 58:10). The prophets of Israel understood the mind of God. They had grasped his purpose. That He was no respecter of persons, that He passed by the pomp and vanities of this world, seeking and finding his gems, his shining ones, where no one else would look for them, was a facet of Divine character with which they became familiar. There were proud matrons in Israel who would have been prouder still to have mothered their long‑awaited Messiah, but the choice fell on an obscure village maiden, descendant of an obscure branch of David’s royal line. Humility, meekness, tenderness and affection, qualities seen in the little dove of the house tops, shone radiantly in her as they did in all fullness in Jesus who exhorted his hearers to "learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart." (Matt.11:29) On his way to Calvary women cried out their envy of the woman who had borne him, who had nourished his childhood and cherished his youth, who had stored in her heart so many unspeakable memories as yet untold. But it was she who stood at the foot of his cross, the sword of anguish through her soul, her sorrow like that of the mourning, forsaken dove. From the obscurity of a despised Galilean village, from a humble carpenter’s bench, emerged that light which shone upon the darkness of the world, a light men would not or could not accept, because "men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil." (John 3:19) The Gentiles saw and recognised that light. Many in the western world in turn rose from obscurity, sending out a light where none had been expected. David foresaw his own small nation, emerging from the obscurity of Egyptian bondage, rising again and yet again as did the dove, from the shattered remnants of other civilisations, educated, disciplined, humbled, but covered with the silver and gold of a dearly bought wisdom, to become the head instead of the tail of many nations; an agent of blessing according to an ancient oath‑bound promise. The Apostles followed the prophets with the vision of a still higher creation, a still brighter light risen from the obscurity of human weakness to shine with the bright glory of God. Still following this theme in his letter to the Corinthians, the inspired apostle says, "Not many mighty, not many noble, are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God has chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen; yea, and things which are not, to bring to nothing things that are." (1 Cor.1:26‑28). Indeed God’s ways and thoughts are not as man’s. When finally the curtain rises on a new Age with a great burst of light from the ascending Sun of Righteousness in the new Heavens, seen shining with him in that bright firmament will be some of those humble, foolish, weak, despised outsiders, who in their lifetime wore neither crown nor mitre, who occupied no important office, who played no central role in any assembly, who were not clever enough to be scholars, but who were wise and loving enough to be saints. "Though ye have lien among the pots" applies to goodness, wisdom, and beauty in whatever form they have been shrugged off and neglected by the short‑sightedness of the policies of self‑seeking peoples. The dove is the emblem of peace. With her olive branch she is part of the pictorial language of nations. Fidelity, purity, gentleness are essential parts of her nature. This home loving bird was used to carry messages to convey love from one absent friend to another. The tame, leaf‑carrying, letter‑carrying gentle‑eyed creature who readily came to rest on an outstretched hand, stirs in the responsive heart a sense of affection. When God would identify himself at Jordan with the well‑beloved Son, the Spirit, like a dove, descended upon him. The bird of the housetops became the bird of heaven, its wings clad in the radiant silver and gold of the Divine Spirit. Nations in their heraldry have chosen the eagle, the lion, the leopard, the bear, to carry upon their shields or emblazon upon their standards. These fearsome creatures, equipped with talons, beaks, claws and fangs, whose only function is the rending and tearing of flesh, "Nature, red in tooth and claw," (Tennyson) have in their way expressed the war‑like tendencies of man, the savagery by which men have exterminated men from time to time. There is something proud, arrogant, and ruthless about these emblems of national pomp. The dove of peace, so gentle by comparison, has fallen victim to the birds of prey. To fight is not her nature. Flight is her only weapon, nor will she feed on flesh. Her food is the clean grain, the wholesome fruit of the earth. The undefiled dove is the emblem of purity, quick to forgive and forget injuries, affectionate, faithful, mourning with deep sadness when forsaken, yet joyous in company, loving the haunts of men. So has peace haunted the minds of men, with a longing, a deep desire to be at rest, to be free, not only from the carnage of war but from the tumults and quarrels of social, political, and domestic life. Forever seeking peace and forever losing it in the brittle divisions of opinions, it remains only a name, an unattainable ideal, except to those rare few who have allied themselves in mystic union with Jesus, the Prince of Peace. The world can neither give peace nor get peace, nor will it ever know peace until that same Jesus rebukes its angry roar and nations bow in submission to his rule of love and justice. "He will lift up an ensign to the nations from far." (Isa.5:26) An ensign for the people, for the nations, is a rallying place, a standard, a banner, enlisting and uniting them in a common cause. It is a sign of challenge and of victory over opposing forces. When the King of kings and Lord of lords goes out to make final war against the forces of evil which have so long riddled society and destroyed the happiness of mankind, his banner will be unfurled above the fallen standards of this world. Not on his breastplate will leap the quartered leopards or the staff‑hugging bear; not on his spotless flag the lion rampant or the double‑headed eagle. If there is a natural emblem at all it will be the dove of peace, the emblem of love and goodwill, whose harmlessness he recommended to his followers. God’s ways are the opposite of man’s. In the new heavens and new earth where all things will be created new, the differences between his kingdom and those of this world will be in strong contrast. Righteousness, right living, right thinking, justice, and love will dominate and permeate the earth, for "He shall speak peace unto the heathen: and his dominion shall be from sea even to sea, and from the river even to the ends of the earth." (Zech.9:10). Neither the lion of the tribe of Judah, the star of David or the lamb bearing the cross, commendable though these emblems are, will so emphasise the spirit of the reigning Prince of peace, as that form of the dove which descended upon him at Jordan. When Jesus cleared the bustling merchandise out of the Temple he forbore to overturn the cages of the doves. Sheep and oxen he drove before him with a hastily made whip of rushes; the tables of the moneylenders he threw to the floor, caring nothing for the coinage rolling in all directions, but at the seats of those who sold doves he issued a command and that they should be carried out. The gentle emblems of purity received his gentle consideration. The will of God, the law of God, the word of God, the person of Jesus Christ and his gospel of peace and love, which have for so long lain among the broken pots of creeds, systems and vain philosophies, of stubborn rebellion, of doubts and careless rejection, will at last emerge in their truth and beauty, too evident to be denied and too bright to be unobserved. "Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit, saith the LORD." (Zech.4:6) Not by fire, storm, or earthquake, but by the still, small voice, will the human race be gentled into peace. Its evil regime may perish from its own violence but its reformation will be achieved under the shining banner of peace. As the early Christian religion overthrew the gods of the pagan world so will the peace of God under its Divine emblem subdue the nations, tame their savage impulses, and create in man a new and clean heart. Then shall all shackles fall; the stormy clangour TWW |
