The Abiding Presence
I’ve got a problem with books. I’ve always been an avid reader and I’ve derived a lot of spiritual nourishment through good books. However, for a few years I’ve struggled to find books that really engage my interest or feed my soul. It’s not that I know it all but sometimes I feel like I’ve heard (read) it all. Sometimes I feel that at this point in my life whatever I haven’t truly learned has to be learned by living it not reading it. But last week at the Seminary I “came across” a book I had never heard of that caught my interest. The book is titled, The Abiding Presence, by Hugh Martin.
He opens his book by quoting a verse from the beginning and the end of the gospel of Matthew. Matthew 1:1 begins, A record of the genealogy of Jesus Christ the son of David, the son of Abraham. Then, at the end of the gospel of Matthew 28:20 And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age. Martin points out that Matthew 1:1 sounds like the beginning of a biography or memoir of Jesus Christ. But when do we ever find a memoir ending with the words, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
He basically says people who are still alive don’t publish their memoirs. He was living in the 1800 and didn’t anticipate the self-absorption and narcissism that is so common in today’s culture, but I think his point holds up for the most part. On the other hand when we read the memoirs of famous people we usually do so because actually friendship and fellowship with them is not possible. He develops the uniqueness of these two truths that regarding Jesus we have both the stories of his life and the promise of his presence. The result is that in the combined revelation of the gospels concerning Jesus and the promise of his presence in our lives we have something unique and wonderful.
In an online review at Something to Say, Malcolm Maclean writes:
Christian Focus Publications have republished The Abiding Presence by Hugh Martin (1822-85), Martin’s book is concerned with how Christians should read the Gospels (they are more than mere historical records providing information). In order to read them correctly we need the presence of the Spirit to make the Gospel narratives personal and precious to us as we meditate on them. We need the Spirit’s help in order that the stories about Jesus becomes means of communion with Jesus. Martin takes several instances from the Gospels — the baptism of Jesus, the temptation of Jesus, his sermon in a synagogue in Nazareth, his work on the cross — and helps us regarding how we should read these accounts for our spiritual benefit. Such experiences by us reveal to us the divine origin of the Bible and also enable us to have what Martin calls ‘real religion’.
I haven’t read very far into this book so I hope it proves as good as it begins. Here’s a quote from the end of the first chapter:
“The biography then is not dead, the living one lives in it. The presence is not mysterious and vague; for he is present as in the mirror of the biography, and according to the well defined and reflected glory there. The biography is more than biography now, it is – the life of Jesus.”
I love being reminded of this crucial truth, and how appropriate at Christmas. I wish all of us at Christ Community, and to the ends of the earth could see and live in these truths. We have both the living story in Scripture and the real, REAL, spiritual presence of Immanuel with us. Is that not amazing?
Larry is the senior pastor at 
AMAZING indeed! Let us know how the rest of the book is….
Larry’s sermon on the Incarnation this morning reminded me of a passage I read on a retreat day last month while wading in crystal clear Rock Springs Run. It is in Henri Nouwen’s book entitled Compassion. After describing how true friends “show their solidarity with us by willingly entering the dark, uncharted spaces of our lives” with a ministry of compassionate presence, he asserts that “God is a God-with-us, a God who came to share our lives in solidarity. It does not mean that God solves our problems (darn!), shows us the way out of our confusion, or offers answers for our many questions. He might do all of that, but his solidarity consists in the fact that he is willing to enter with us into our problems, confusions, and questions.”
On the following page, 15, he describes how we reject consolation which comes from those who’ve not walked in our shoes, then says: “God wants to know our condition fully and DOES NOT WANT TO TAKE AWAY ANY PAIN WHICH HE HIMSELF HAS NOT FULLY TASTED. His compassion is anchored in the most intimate solidarity, a solidarity which allows us to say with the psalmist, “This is our God, and we are the people he pastures, the flock that he guides (Ps 95.7).”
In the ensuing pages, he expounds on the 12 instances in which Jesus is “moved with compassion”, a phrase “used exclusively in reference to Jesus or his Father”. “When Jesus was moved to compassion, the source of all life trembled, the ground of all love burst open, and the abyss of God’s immense, inexhaustible, and unfathomable tenderness revealed itself.”
The blind, the leper, the widow “moved him, they made him feel with all his intimate sensibilities the depth of their sorrow. He became lost with the lost, hungry with the hungry, and sick with the sick. In him, all suffering was sensed with a perfect sensitivity.”
Thanks for passing that on Evan. My heart longs to fully taste these truths.