What is Sacred? By Robert Fullarton 2015- Christian apologetics

What is Sacred?

By Robert Fullarton

2015

What is Sacred?

By Robert Fullarton
2015



As the bible has stated in Corinthians 1..what we call wisdom..the world calls nonsense and while the world exalts the proud, loves the strong and the bold...God exposes and shames such men and in response he lifts up what the world calls "weak" and "unworthy".

The supernatural cannot be measured by instruments of human science and understanding..it cannot be scrutinized merely by rationalistic and reductionist thought,...it is measured, weighed and examined by the spirit of God...that is the instrument for which you will discover what is unseen, what is of a spiritual nature and what is Holy.

Remember what is supernatural- what is out of the ordinary- does it come from all the texts of scientists and philosophers?

If it did then would'nt it really be the work of ordinary men...giving mere human analysis and statistic to a sphere, a state, existence and reality that is not holy but human. All things are measured by the soundness of the testimony.

The testimony is given by a revelation from the one who wants to give it to us. I suppose it is a bit like one person passing a message of utmost importance to another..there is intention behind the message and we can even learn something on the nature of the person from the message. There is meaning that touches all and touches heart. There is a voice of love and not just reason in the great deep beyond.

When we look at the stars we gaze at the fixed points of creation and the measures of space, the utilities of gravity and the universe which is bounded in matter in common laws and currents that help sustain us in the jungle of a chaotic creation. We look in sheer dread at the colossus of the stars and fail to know what mind comprehends them..and what life dwells within these “ant observers of the universe.”

On the small and personal there are matters of love and conscience and there are stories and revelations from God that speak of a sacrifice so great that can cancel the debts of the warring and hating human race. As far as I can see this ordinary life before us, this society which we engage in and even this civilization itself is the engagement of desires- of base passions, crude developments which have lead us to ruin, to reach temporal indignity as we like Roman’s clutch the garments and seize the goblets of our own gluttonous want.

The Roman philosophy of hedonism/Epicurianism is rife these days because people have bought the lie told them by the powers of the world/society that they do not matter in the scheme of life..that life has no meaning other than the pursuit of making money and fitting in.

No deep tunnels of truth are reached…no heights ascended..real love needs to be felt against what has become an unbelievably cynical and selfish society.

.The sacred life is laughed at…its works of faith..its vocal aspects..its charity and selflessness because it is viewed to be weak in the face of a socially Darwinian society..that in fact does not know what it even wants!

And as I said before what is sacred is different from what is normal/secular and certainly what is illegal.

It is not for scholarly and scientific dispute..it is what the philosophers call noumenal meaning..that which comes from its own source but outside the sphere of the ordinary. However God’s incarnation as Christ..with the works of miracles and revelations- not only are they evidence to attest to the claim by the messenger- they are as C.S Lewis stated “not merely fulfillments of nature but a breaking of nature to fulfill the purpose of the one who created nature". I would state that miracles are extra-ordinary measures, inferences and interventions by a God that comes from outside spatial spheres and measurements to reveal himself in time and space to those who live and are bounded in natural law, weakness, entropy and frailty.

 He is both in time and outside time..he is in space and outside space...and he can reveal himself to those who WANT to know him...and this path begins with a thread of confessional choices from the heart to know him...out of and away from the ordinary world we live in.

It is a shame that conventional churches and conventional Christians believe that miracles were mere vestiges of archaic life…which have perhaps “served their purpose” and are no longer relevant to this age of science, skepticism and technological supremacy. As I have heard before the Christian faith stripped of the belief in miracles loses power to convince, to show and explain what is extra-ordinary, what is measured by a spiritual means and compass and cannot be ordinarily measured by those who use mere tools and works of human intellect. It is a shame that the pursuit, and interest, the credibility and nature of the Holy is being denigrated by theological surgeons and scientists that dabble in the philosophy of monism and materialism over what is scientific. They often teach that which is not even scientific but merely reflecting the zeitgeist of the times we live in.

A message to a Christian woman in a time of need

A message to Christian woman in a time of need

I Myself have gone through everything..been hospitalised twice and have stuggled to work and even wonder whether I can work at all. I was diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome and Chronic anxiety. I was struggling to leave the house and go down to the local shop...it was that bad. I have been praying for healing for years but I am not going to give up. In the past I wrote books...had a brilliant mind, read much philosophy and could debate and write essays. I also had profound experiences of peace, ecstacy and joy...I myself have studied for years on religious philosophy, apologetics and of course the Bible itself. Remember the reasons why you became a Christian..why you believed or were even attracted to the faith in the first place. Rediscover the grounds and reasons for it taking root..for why it was attractive or immense in your life. I heard one time from a friend that your course of belief in Jesus is like a Marriage...at first we court and there is a sense of romance..a sense of joy..with something new as we leave behind an old life and start to change in ways we cant imagine..there is a honeymoon for the first 1-3 years and then as in my case there is a crisis...and I was hospitalized and nearly lost my mind in a series of tragic situations. It has been a battle to keep the ship afloat...I highly recommend that you go meet regularly with Christian friends/fellowship for guidance..dont keep these fears to yourself..and dont let yourself doubt what you were once certain of and loved once before. Either way we will have to face trials and tribulations...but why not take a step forward..a radical step forward towards the goal and desire that you once deemed impossible. Dont forget that we believers know and believe we are dealing with the supernatural and that processes of faith of those little and grand occurrences...can go beyond the ordinary. I myself had nearly lost my faith.. for years I was angry and in pain...because I was very angry with God...but please consider that these seasons of suffering build character and serving God even throughout the storm..we can rediscover our joy in our determination to keep this love alive. It is a marriage that has to go through the rocky paths of disillusionment to reach the shores of joy. There are states of joy that make the unbeliever look on...but he can only look through the window..he cannot come in until he makes the choice..the cry of faith in the darkest night (and believe me I have had many, many of these over my years and I am only 28!) 
God bless

The Man who wasn’t there- Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

The Man who wasn’t there

Like moles

In those dusty

Holes

Were lost in musty

Bars

He sat upon the stool

Playing wise man, playing fool

The jack, the joker

The ace of spades for the smoker

He raised the silver coin to the sky

And held the moon to his eye

Drunk upon a lonely night

He looked into a lady’s sight

And was immersed in pavement stone

And he was soon to be alone

Once again in the last chance saloon

Never getting out

And never giving in

What is this madness?

Of empty houses

And lonely nights

Beneath the candelabra of the stars

Melancholy man

That’s what I am

To all the stars above

The sidetracked cars

That speed around

In the iron routine bound

Cardboard boxes

fixed in time

is that all we are?

Take us away

From television fantasy

And what society may sway

Day upon day

descending

For all that closes

In the final act

A stay on Rathlin Island- Robert Fullarton- Copyright 2015

A stay on Rathlin Island

By Robert Fullarton 

Copyright Robert Fullarton 2015

Across the the northern harbour of Ballycastle in Co.Antrim you will find the island of Rathlin.

The journey across on the car ferry takes in the ruggedness of many sea cliffs with the sight of the Mull of Kintyre -marking the geographic and also the ethnic  proximity between Northern Ireland and Scotland- this watery wilderness fills the lungs with sea air as the eyes feast upon a diversity of wonderful sea birds -including Gannets, Manx Shearwater, Guillemots, Little Auks and even the the sight of the odd Harrier or Buzzard cruising the coasts between Ireland and Scotland.

This island being the most northernly point on the island of Ireland happens to be a great place for wildlife watching. Upon my immediate arrival with my friend and his father I could see the colonies of Eider ducks and Harbour Seals that frequent and live upon the shoreline as our boat came in to dock. The locals are simple and humble folk, hospitable and traditional- very Irish and Celtic in my opinion, they seemed more interesting at times than the routine driven city dweller.

The island has its own unique species of hare -which has its own pigmentation- called the Golden Hare only to be found upon this island and it can be seen on rare occasions with the Brown Hare and the common Rabbit. Where there are rabbits, however you will find birds of prey in most cases and on this island I spotted Buzzards Galore swooping and gliding over the emerald hills of Rathlin, with Peregrine Falcons and Kestrels hovering through empty fields in search of some fast food.

I met a beautiful girl from Yorkshire, a student of English literature- an employee for the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds- and a avid lover of music and even Irish traditional music.
While she pointed out the Puffins to me and my friend, we talked about our mutual interests and passions. She stuck in my mind as one of the most wonderfully deep and beautiful people I had met in quite awhile. There was no hiding the fact to myself that I was very attracted to her and enamoured for the sort of air of mystery that surrounded her. She was a sort of breakaway hermit or what some might even call an environmental beatnik, spending most of the year in this windswept island fortress off the beaten track of both Ireland and Scotland, where she worked for the Society, and spent her time in both observation, study and habitation with a bunch of English ecologists. She played tin whistle in the pub..but I unfortunately never occasioned this happening and never laid eyes upon her again...she is like so much in life.. an obscurity that disappeared along with the jagged cliffs off the horizon into the mists of time.

I walked amid the bracken and the wild flowers of this Irish wilderness -and I felt immediately that Rathlin was something akin to the west of Ireland. Community spirit is forged in a landscape of cottages, stone ruins of past generations..history that spoke of legends and wars...from Robert the Bruce's flight and refuge in the caves bellow to the massacres carried out and conducted by Sir Francis Drake against the McDonnell clan on the hills above.

There were four of us..two by two..staying in different lodgings. Me and a friend shared a simple hostel, that was quaintly filled with bird books and pamphlets on the natural flora and fauna of Northern Ireland..one in fact was on the natural history of Rathlin. Our hostess a Mrs McCurdy was a member of one of the oldest families on Rathlin island a fact you will notice in the little Anglican Church of St.Thomas where many gravestones attest to the name and history of the McCurdy family. Tradition, simple living, a slow paced almost deadening pulse lives on in a land that comes to life in summer time and practically hibernates through the long Irish winter. Tourism is vital for the survival of the Rathlin community, the revenue keeps the stock and trade of the people alive.

We talked with a German couple, who were touring the Antrim coast, communing with them in the little living room of the cottage where we eat and chat, discussed plans and leisurely read to our hearts content.

On our final evening on the island we went for dinner at a local B&B where my friend's father was staying. We crossed various fields marvelling at the wild animals that scuttled and soared both beside and above our heads and then we began our ascent to the B&B -at the far end of the island- where we could gaze down on everything below us, including the harbour entrance to Rathlin. We spoke to our hostess about the changing times, about the changes in weather -how cold it was for May- and how even former visitors to this region -such as the Cuckoo- were becoming less and less common as the climate became harsher, as the winds increased and the temperatures dropped on average, the ecology changed over time. Man has been responsible on Rathlin for the extinction of the Corncrake, through loss of habitat and changes in agricultural practice...something which has become common process throughout most of the British isles.

My major grievance or reason to moan on that holiday, was that bad weather,  blighted much of our time and travel to and fro...but it did not engulf our sense of adventure nor dampen our spirits. Good rain gear, waterproofs and overalls are needed wherever one goes in Ireland-or indeed Scotland- come summer or winter. Good conversations...human kindness and community spirit can warm the coldest torso and fill the mind with repositories of confidence and assurance.