It has been a few weeks since I’ve posted, but I haven’t been ignoring the site. I made some cosmetic updates over the last week, and, more importantly, I’ve been…
It has been a few weeks since I’ve posted, but I haven’t been ignoring the site. I made some cosmetic updates over the last week, and, more importantly, I’ve been reading through Ezekiel, with an eye and an ear to whatever God has to tell me through that old prophet for today.
He has shown me, thus far, that iniquity is no new phenomenon, and that He is not ignoring it Himself.
But, it was through a different sort of prophet — a truth-teller of the sort with which I am more familiar, the writer H. Rider Haggard – that God revealed something about the nature of man in this season of apparent racial disharmony. Perhaps it is ironic that Haggard and his hero Allan Quatermain have been branded as racist themselves by the more modern intelligentsia, though perhaps it is a more primitive brand of racism than the kind decried today. Maybe not.
For whatever it is worth (and I am gathering lately that my opinion on the matter is not worth much), I never found the books racist. Unseemly, perhaps, in language to the modern reader, and a tad too brash in it’s Anglophilia, but the man who wrote, “…I say that as the savage is, so is the white man, only the latter is more inventive…but in all essentials, the savage and the child of civilization are identical,” saw more to the human heart than base racism.
So, looking to the New Thing breaching the frontier of tomorrow that is here and yet coming, I’ll leave this old thing recounting the adventures of a white man challenging the frontier of a dark continent and finding kinship among the natives. Here is to the hope that we will find kinship among the sinners on this dark continent and they will come to receive the inheritance that a Heavenly civilization has wrought and is working among us through the blood of our King.
“It seems to me very desirable that we should sometimes try to understand the limitations of our nature, so that we may not be carried away by the pride of knowledge. Man’s cleverness is almost infinite, and stretches like an elastic band, but human nature is like an iron ring. You can go round and round it, you can polish it highly, you can even flatten it a little on one side, whereby you will make it bulge out on the other, but you will never, while the world endures and man is man, increase its total circumference. It is the one fixed, unchangeable thing — fixed as the stars, more enduring than the mountains, as unalterable as the way of the Eternal. Human nature is God’s kaleidoscope, and the little bits of coloured glass which represent our passions, hopes, fears, joys, aspirations towards good and evil and what not, are turned in His mighty hand as surely and certainly as it turns the stars, and continually fallk into new patters and combinations. But the composing elements remain the same, nor will there be one more bit of coloured glass nor one less forever and ever.”