I will give thee rest

“The letter killeth, but the Spirit giveth life.” (2Cor. 3:6).

I’d like to put this verse to a little different application than what I’ve used before. It seems to apply to the way we think.

I am arousing to consciousness in the morning, the darkness of early day still surrounding me in my bedroom. I am fully rested, and before even opening my eyes, my thoughts roam through the Bible. Thoughts of Jesus, thoughts of love, connecting precepts that form a chain of ideas which move from one slight deviation to another, yet each moving in the same general direction of some particular subject in mind. I try to remember it all so I can write it out on my blog, but invariable some of it gets lost in the fog of forgetfulness.

Those are beautiful mornings. I never want them to end. I don’t want to wake up and start moving around. Because when I start my morning routine, that wonderful restful mood of surrender under the influences of biblical beauty too often evaporates. Even if I can retain most of the thoughts and put them into written words for this blog, the mood is largely gone. This makes me sad and long for the return of the earlier disposition.

Return, O holy Dove, return, Sweet messenger of rest! I hate the sins that made thee mourn, That drove thee from my breast.

But is that too much to ask for. Is it wrong to desire a temperament of perfect surrender all day long, every day? Isn’t that what Jesus had? What we know of Him as a man we know during His ministry. But was He different before His baptism of the Holy Spirit? What was He like as a carpenter?

“I must work the works of Him that sent Me, while it is day: the night cometh, when no man can work.” (Jn. 9:4). This apparently was His motto as a common worker. He was perfectly faithful as a carpenter as He was during His ministry. But, what was His frame of mind when He was working on that yoke or the chair or perhaps a cross providentially commissioned by the ruling governor? He must have had to stop meditating in order to put in some mind to hand coordination as He accomplished His mundane tasks.

The same happens for me. As I begin moving around, the day’s tasks take over my thoughts, and especially my mood. My work mind kicks into gear and my communion mind dies away. Is this the way it is supposed to be? Must the two minds be mutually exclusive of one another?

We are commanded to work. Work is good and essential, even for our spiritual growth. Not just useless work like a monk scraping lightly at the ground in his cloister’s garden, but useful, difficult work that accomplishes something. But as the day’s work drives away the rest received during the night of sleep, so the work mind often drives away the wonderful meditations of the early morning.

But this need not be. The letter killeth only if the spirit of the letter is missing; and the work mind killeth only if the Holy Spirit of work is not present. So long as the Spirit is there, whether in His communal or His practical role, we will find rest unto our souls. He will blend the early morning thoughts into the day’s tasks, holding that holy mood of His presence in place, keeping our feet on solid rock.

The six days of labor only grind us to powder if we’ve forgotten the blessing of the previous Sabbath of rest and communion or have no hope of a coming Sabbath of rest and communion, and many, many more. With hope and warm memories, the six laboring days become an easy yoke, a light burden.

Likewise, the rest of soul we receive in the early mornings may carry us through each laboring day. As the Bible states that the holy couple in Eden met with their Creator Friend in the cool of the day (Gen. 3:8), so may we.

“My presence shall go with thee, and I will give thee rest.” (Ex. 33:14).