March 20, 2015
Temples of the Living God
As we ascend the mountain, the winding road leads upward through the pines,
close-dotted with quaking aspens which
have changed their dresses of summer
green to autumn’s gold. Beholding the lavish Beauty which nature has
bestowed on every hand, one thinks of God, and feels that surely, truly, these
are the Temples of the Living God.
Each pine tree, straight and tall, pointing surely
toward the Heavens, reaches upward that all who will may know the Joy of the Ascending Spirit that refuses to remain earth-bound: each gentle
aspen tree shimmering in the breeze, speaks of the gentleness of God, and
surely here, on every hand, one finds the Temples of the Living God.
In the valleys and on the mountainside, beside the stream or along the rock-strewn trail, each step we take unfolds new Beauty, and tells
anew the story of the Temples of the Living God.
The creatures of the wild, the birds flitting through the trees, the rippling rill from melting snows, the shrubs that grow on the
rocky wall, all tell the story of the
Temples of the Living God.
The barren rocky
peaks, reaching high above timberline, are mute evidence that there is a Power greater than all the powers of
man, and drawing near, one truly feels the spirit of the mountain, and that
Spirit tells a story of the Temples of the Living God.
And so the restless spirit feels the calm, and the flitting mind is stilled; the quietness and
peacefulness of majestic mountains begin to fill the heart of man, and there
comes a certainty that here are the Temples of the Living God.
But dusk is falling, and soon the last rays of the
sun rest for a lingering caress upon
the highest mountain crag, and in the stillness
of the evening, in the cool of the day,
with all this Beauty shut from view, there lingers still the realization that the Temple of the Living God is near: a
loneliness for the God of the Temple
begins to fill the heart, soul and mind,
and, if, by friendly darkness shut out, memory’s vision of the mountains
and of the trees still holds the attention too vividly, the story of the
valleys, of the shrubs and the creatures of the wild has not yet been truly heard, even though all these things
were speaking of the Temples of the Living God.
If, in the peace and quietness, welcoming the friendly dusk, the cool of the day finds the Responding One relaxed and still, there
comes assurance that the Living God is
nearer than the air we breathe, and though the mountains and the trees, the
valleys and creatures of the wild are Temples of the Living God, they are truly
but the Temples of the Temples of God Most High.
For untold ages man has wandered to and fro on earth, seeking to find the place where he might
know fulfillment’s keenest joys. The miserable tales of history reveal the failures
that mar the age-long record, and as
the musing spirit rests quiescent in the
eventide, he comes to know that God is here below, waiting to enter in and
abide in the long-lost Temples of the Living God.
All things on earth God created for the pleasure of man, but man He created for His own pleasure. Behold, the majesty of the mountains,
the beauty of the valleys, the wonder of the trees, the lakes and streams, and the creatures of the wild. Who has the ability
to view that majesty? Who has the qualities that comprehend the beauties of the
valley, to see and name the creatures of the wild? That which thus can
comprehend is greater than all else that man beholds. Consider the symmetry of
form, the blended parts, the qualities of mind and heart, by which the things
of God may manifest on earth. Surely this, the crowning creation, was not made
for itself, any more than the mountain was made for itself, the tree for itself,
or the valley for its own enjoyment alone. And so it is that humankind, awaking
from a long, sad dream, begins to know that truly man, as God created him, male
and female, is the Temple of the Living God.
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