The Weight Beneath The Water/G.L. Pease Quiet Nights

Intro:

"Hidden Past" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)

Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Outro:

"Galway" Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)

Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 4.0 License

http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:00

Good Friday morning, dear friend, and welcome once again to the Parson Piper Podcast. We are again here at Week's End. We gather together in the quiet, with pipe in hand and scripture before us to walk the old paths again. We'll set our mind upon the stories of holy writ, trace the faithful footsteps of Christ's church through the ages, and consider that call to return, simple, true, and steadfast. And as the ember glows, we will speak a word or two of good leaf and honest blends, and also of the fine folk who keep the craft alive in shops near and far. So settle in now, take a breath, and let us begin. Now, if you will, come in a moment, good friend, and sit with me here again in this quiet room. I shall speak with you of something not often seen, yet often felt. The morning has come softly once more. Light falls through the window and long pale lines resting across the shelves, as though it had always belonged there. The books stand where they were left, unchanged. The chair is set as before. You may take a seat. The pipe is lit without hurry, the smoke rises slow, then fades just as quietly, and for a moment nothing is said. Because what we speak of today is not something a man noticed at first glance. It must be considered. If you have a pipe near at hand, you may take a moment if you so choose. Pack it slow, camp it down, and light it if you're so inclined. Not because the pipe matters in itself, but because the slowing down does. For some things are only understood when a man is willing to remain still. Come now, sit a spell. There was once a man who went down to the water, not for labor, not for trade, but for the quiet of it. A place was known to him, a wide stretch where the surface lay claim in the early hours. Still enough that a man might look across it and think nothing lay beneath. Now this man was not unfamiliar with the water. He had entered it before. He knew its surface, its temperature, its appearance. But there are things about water that are not known from the surface alone. And on that morning he went further. He stepped in slowly. The water rose around him. Ankle, then to his knees, and then up to his waist. And then he pushed forward and slipped beneath the surface. Now at first there was nothing troubling. He water held him. It felt almost weightless and free. And if he had remained near the surface, he might have believed that was all there was to it. But he did not remain there. He began to move downward, and as he did, something changed, not in the water itself, but in what he felt. There was pressure, subtle at first, and then more noticeable, and then something else. A pull, not from above, but from below. Now here is something a man does not always expect. Water can appear calm on the surface and still hold weight beneath it. And the deeper one goes, the greater that weight becomes. Now the man had not noticed it at first, because it had not announced itself. It revealed itself gradually. And that is how such things often work. Now let us think carefully, for this is not merely a story of water. It is a truth about something else. Because sin does not always present itself as something heavy. At first it feels light, manageable, at times even unnoticed, but it does not remain so. Now the scripture speaks plainly on this matter. Consider Hebrews, the twelfth chapter, the first verse. Let us lay aside every weight and the sin which doth so easily beset us. Notice the words carefully weight, not merely action, not merely event, but burden, something that presses, something that hinders, something that holds a man back from moving as he should. Now return for a moment to the man in the water. As he moved deeper, the pressure increased. His movement slowed. What had once felt easy began to require effort. And yet he had not done anything sudden. He had only continued. And that is where many misunderstand. They expect that danger must appear all at once. But often it is continuation of what seemed harmless that leads to what becomes heavy. Now there is more. For not only was there pressure, there was also pull, something drawing downward, and the man feeling it now more clearly, began to understand. This was not a place to remain. Now consider another word. Now that is not merely an outcome at the end, it is a direction, a pull, something that moves a man away from life and towards something else. Now here's where clarity is needed. Sin is not only what a man does, it is what a man carries, and what a man carries will affect where he can go. Now the man in the water began to move upward again, not in panic, but with effort. Because what had once felt easy now required strength. And this is where many find themselves, not at the beginning, but somewhere beneath the surface, feeling the weight, sensing the pull, and realizing this is not where they were meant to remain. Now here is the question. How does a man rise? Not by ignoring the weight, not by pretending it is not there, but by recognizing it and leaving it behind. Now scripture speaks again. Turn with me to Psalm thirty eight four, for mine iniquities are gone over mine head. As a heavy burden, they too are heavy for me. Now that is plain, too heavy, meaning this a man is not meant to carry it, and yet many do, at times for longer than they should. Now here is where the word of God becomes necessary, because without it a man will not recognize the weight correctly. He will call it something else, a habit, a preference, a very small matter. But the word names it clearly, and what is named clearly can be dealt with rightly. Now return again to the surface of the water. From above, it appeared calm, untroubled. And yet beneath there was pressure, there was pull, and the same is true in life. A man may appear settled, and yet carry something that is weighing him down. Now, some of you listening this morning, you know this, not in theory, but in experience. You feel the weight, you sense the resistance. Things that once were easy are no longer so. And the question is not, is this serious? The question is, what is this doing to me? Because weight does not remain neutral, it changes direction. Now here is the answer. Not complicated, but not easy. Lay it aside. That is what the scripture says, not manage it, not carry it more carefully, lay it aside. Now that requires something, honesty and clarity, and a willingness to leave behind what has become familiar. Now here in this quiet room, it is easy to see such things, but the test comes outside of it. When the day begins, when movement returns, and the question becomes, will I continue as I have been? Or will I leave what I now see? Now as you sit a moment longer, consider this carefully. What are you carrying that you were never meant to hold? What has become a weight that you have grown accustomed to? And what would it mean to set it down? Now, if you would understand that more clearly, if you would see what God has plain said plainly, you must return to his word, not occasionally, but steadily, because it is the word that reveals the weight, and it is the word that shows the way out of it. And if you would grow in that further, sit down, listen carefully, learn steadily, a place where the word is opened plainly, and where that what burdens a man is not ignored but addressed. And so, good friend, as the morning moves forward and the quiet begins to lift, I leave you with this thought. Do not remain with the weight, for you were not made to carry it. Rise, lay it aside, and walk in what is true. And before you rise, if you will allow me just a little longer, there is something else worth considering, not loud, not pressing, but steady. The pipe has remained lit here while we have spoken, not hurried, not forced, only tended. And this morning the bowl was filled with GLP's quiet nights, pipe tobacco. Now this is not a light mixture, it does not greet you with brightness. It carries something deeper. There is latichea in it, dark, smoky, something that lingers rather than press passes. Orientals as well, a quiet sharpness that does not overwhelm, but does not disappear either. And beneath it all a steady foundation that holds it together. Now if a man were to rush it, he would miss most of what it offers. It would seem heavy, perhaps even too much. But if he sits with it, if he allows it to burn slowly, he begins to notice something. It's not harsh. It's layered, and what seemed heavy at first becomes something understood. Now that, in its own way, is not unlike what we have spoken of today. Because weight is not always recognized for what it is. At first it may feel like nothing, or even something manageable. But over time it reveals itself. Now consider again the water, how calm it appeared from above, how little is suggested what lay beneath. And yet, once entered, once descended into, it became something else entirely, pressure, resistance, a pull that was not obvious before. Now the tobacco in this bowl burns in much the same way. It does not rush toward its end, it deepens, each draw revealing something slightly different, not louder, but fuller. And that is how many things in life are revealed, not all at once, but gradually. Now here is where we must think carefully, because what is beneath the surface is not always visible. But it is always present, and if it is not addressed, it does not remain still. It presses. Now the scripture we considered earlier, lay aside every weight. Hebrews 12, verse 1. The word weight is not accidental, it is chosen, because it describes something that hinders movement, something that makes progress harder than it should be. Now as I sit here and the bowl burns lower, now as I sit here and the bowl burns lower, there is a steadiness to it. No sudden flare, no sharp turn, just quiet continuation. And that too is worth noting. Because the things that shape a man's life most deeply are often not dramatic. They are consistent, repeated, carried. Now, if what is carried is right, it strengthens, but if what is carried is not, it weighs down, and over time it determines direction. Now some of you listening this morning, you feel that weight, not always in a way you can name, but in a way you cannot ignore, a resistance, a heaviness that does not leave when the day begins. Now the question is not, is it there? The question is what is it? And more than that, well, I continue to carry it. Now this is where many hesitate because what is carried often becomes familiar, and what is familiar is not easily set aside, even when it is harmful. Now here is where the word of God must be allowed to speak clearly. As a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. Psalm thirty eight and verse four. Too heavy, meaning this, a man was not meant to bear it, and yet he does until he recognizes it for what it is. Now consider again the pipe. If it is neglected, it burns poorly, hot, uneven, but if it is tended, given attention at the right time, it burns as it should, steady, and that is not because the pipe has changed, but because it has been handled rightly. Now in the same way a life is not corrected by ignoring what is wrong, it is corrected by addressing it, by setting aside what does not belong. Now here in this quiet room that is something a man can begin to see. But seeing is not the end, is the beginning, because what is seen must be acted upon. Now the morning has moved forward, the light through the window has shifted, what was soft before is now clear, and that is fitting. Because clarity often comes when a man remains long enough to receive it. So before you rise, consider this what lies beneath the surface in your life that you have not brought into light? What weight have you carried long enough that it no longer feels unusual? And what would it mean to set it down, not gradually, not partially, but fully? Because that is what the word calls for, not adjustment, but removal, lay it aside. Now that requires something, not strength alone, but willingness, a decision, a decision to leave what has been carried and take hold of what is true. Now if you would understand that more clearly, you must return to the word, not once, but continually. Because it is the word that reveals what is hidden, it is the word that shows what must be left behind. The day is waiting, and it is time to rise, but don't leave this moment empty. Carry something from it, not the weight, but the truth. That what burdens you need not remain. Until we sit again, keep your heart open, stay rooted and walk free from what would hold you down. This has been the Parson Piper Podcast, where we slow down, think deeply, and walk lighter in what is true. And so, dear friend, our time draws gently to its close. The fire burns low, the pipe grows quiet, the words we've shared linger just a while longer in the air. May the truths of Scripture walk beside you ever in the days ahead, and may your heart be ever drawn back to the ancient path, simple, faithful, and sure. We meet together here each week on Friday mornings, so I bid you return again, where story, church, and quiet reflection await thee once more. Until then, if so inclined, keep your pipe well tended, your mind set on good things, and your soul steadfast. This is the Parson Piper Podcast. Grace and peace be with you until we meet again.