God

 

 

God is not a conclusion

Resulting for man’s intrusion,

Neither is He some religious illusion

Out of our confusion.

 

God is not our narrative

Thus, our creation or idol,

Neither is He some three-wish genie

We call on when in trouble.

 

God is not the figment

Of some insane imagination

Or of some mega church apostle

To woo his congregation.

 

 

No creature can cage up God

No matter who or what,

This Universe is not big enough

To build for Him a box.

 

Nothing can contain God

Except a believer’s heart

And such by God’s own initiation

From the very start.

 

For He dares to indwell

The heart of the born-again

Not entrapped like a fairy genie,

But therein to reign.

 

 

A human body, His temple

Unlike the temple of old

Which once designed for His worship

Became an object of gold.

 

A replacement for God,

An idolatrous albatross

By which, all seeming to be gain,

Was eventual loss.

 

Stone cannot contain God

Or the gold of the world,

Only His eternal infallible Truth

Aka, the Living Word.

 

By God’s own allowance

A house was built for God

But for men it became a Babel,

Only not as tall.

 

 

Soon this temple had to go

As Jesus himself predicted

And like an errant unpaying tenant,

Old Israel was evicted.

 

To rubble and to stone

It was razed to the ground

Such that even up to the present,

No Jew is temple bound.

 

There’s news about one

To be rebuilt in the future

But any such endeavor, I dare say,

Misses the bigger picture.

 

God lives not in houses

Or church or edifice grand

But in the hearts of His children

That dare to take a stand.

 

A stand against all wrong

Regardless of the source,

A stand against every injustice

That the lawless enforce.

 

 

God is not the end result

Of some Socratic syllogism,

Neither of logical deductive reasoning

Nor human mechanism.

 

But, the Alpha and Omega

Without beginning or end:

Not the beginning, but the Beginner,

As the Scriptures contend.

 

 

God is our Saviour,

The Saviour of the World,

Indwelling every believer’s heart

That harkens to His Word.

 

Stewart Russell © March 21, 2025

 

Faith and Science

 

Faith and Science!

What have they in common

And is their assumed contrast

Just one’s imagination?

 

The assumed perception

That they don’t go together:

Science is rational and natural,

Faith is another matter.

 

Faith is irrational

A construct of the mind

And cannot truly be trusted

At any given time.

 

Science has an answer

For everything that exists,

Scientism as this is called

Surely tops the list.

 

It’s observable and testable

Its evidence is clear

And over time uncertainties

Must gradually disappear.

 

Faith on the other hand

Is frustratingly uncertain

Causing its adherents to differ

Over many questions.

 

 

But it appears to me

That both are aimed at truth

And must therefore be verified

By evidence and proof.

 

On this basis let me start

With a truth before science

And suggest in this first cause

This truth is self-reliant.

 

For it surely must be

There is an uncaused cause

Or else there can never ever be

Any order or natural laws.

 

Such as gravity I mean

And of energy and the like,

Be it that of natural sources

Or of artificial light.

 

I would rather believe

Science and faith dovetail

And together furnish answers

On what is actually real.

 

 

If truth and reality

Is the removal of all doubt

Then reality must be what is left

When all else is weeded out.

 

Think of a garden bed

With all the weeds removed

Leaving a picturesque splendour

That the gardener approves.

 

Think of back in Eden

That evolutionists call a myth,

Faith on the other hand determines

It was really God’s gift.

 

A habitat for humans

Prepared for Adam and Eve

But the willy and cunning serpent

Had Eve deceived.

 

Adam followed suit

In solidarity with his wife

And out their sin of disobedience

Came disorder and strife.

 

I’ve always wondered why

Weeds grow so easily,

Crops and flowers would struggle

But bush would have a spree.

 

 

 

Genesis 3 verse 17

Tells of the curse of the ground

In which thorns and thistles

Are always around.

 

Unlike the valued plants

Weeds do not need any care,

Once there is the slightest neglect

They will abundantly appear.

 

It is an evidential reality

This is the nature of things

And science is not the explanation

But the Genesis beginnings.

 

“The heavens declare!”

Speaks to the powerful witness

Of Almighty God’s creative power,

His glory and awesomeness.

 

Faith is not irrational

But rather a reasonable belief

Derived from a truthful reality,

Oh, what blessed relief!

 

It is God’s omniscience

That scientists can do science

With minds fine-tuned for order

With results that are reliant.

 

No wonder most early scientists

Were by this captivated

Unlike others whose experiments

Were prevaricated.

 

Science answers some things

But definitely not all

For morality and love and justice

Are due to an all-wise God.

 

Faith and science complement,

They are not at odds

And where science invariably fails

Right at this point is God.

 

It requires language

To express the truths of science

And the thought humans engage

Speaks of God’s existence.

 

Created in God’s own image

Humans are one of a kind,

Faith is facilitated in their DNA

Via Almighty God’s design.

 

 

Created with a capacity

To engage reality and truth

God Himself, as the Creator of all,

Supplying the essential proof.

 

Creation reveals His design

In all we see and observe

And this is made even clearer

In the advent of the Word.

 

Jesus, the incarnate Word

And the embodiment of truth

Whether of faith or of science

Jesus is the proof.

 

 

 

Truth is essentially a person

Synonymous with the Word

The Lord Christ, God’s only Son,

That came into the world

 

By him all things were made

And of him they consist

Yet the Lord Christ transcends then all

Though in him they exist.

 

He is above and beyond

Anything that science can tell

And this same Creator God causes

Faith and science to gel.

 

Stewart Russell © April 25, 2024

 

The Invisible Man

 

 

I saw the invisible man

And this is the way he looked:

No head, no body, no thighs

He didn’t have a foot.

 

I know you think I’m crazy

As crazy as they come

But I saw him with my eyes,

I even saw him run.

 

Who else saw this man?

I cannot tell you that,

All I know is that I saw him

And this I know is a fact.

 

What was it he was wearing?

That I was not able to tell

But I have a very strong feeling

He was stark naked as well.

 

If so he showed no shame

At least, none that I could see

And how I could deduce this?

He moved unashamedly.

If he knew I could see him,

It certainly didn’t show

So, I followed him more eagerly

Everywhere he’d go.

 

He walked in and out of doors

Never bothering to knock,

It mattered not to this man

Whether locked or unlocked.

 

I could not do likewise

So, I would just stand outside,

Until he came back out again

I wouldn’t even hide.

 

He didn’t seem to care,

I guess because he was invisible

And if he had taken anything

That too was not visible.

 

I saw him board a bus

And I followed him there too,

He paid no fare and rode for free

But the driver never knew.

 

He entered a cafeteria

But all he did there was sit,

He swallowed not a single thing

Not even his own spit.

 

I marveled at this man

And wondered what was his plan,

He was surely a mystery to me
And I had become his fan.

 

I was particularly privileged

To see this invisible man

No hat, no clothes, no shoes.

Nothing upon his hands.

 

I could tell he was very tall

Judging from his stride

And a very pleasant fellow too,

As soon as I saw him smile.

 

Yes, I saw a man

That nobody else could see,

This invisible man

Could only be seen by me.

 

How I knew he was around?

As a matter of fact, I just knew,

It’s difficult to explain

Especially to you.

 

You’d just have to trust me

Believe you me, you must!

For, after all, you weren’t there,

There’s no need to fuss.

 

I saw the invisible man

Just like I am seeing you

And if you grew up when I did

You probably saw him too.

 

 

  

All it took was imagination:

The kind most children had

But if you did not pass that way

That, my friend, is too bad.

 

Stewart Russell © March 8, 2022      

 

Imagination

 

 

Sometimes I find myself wishing

That I could talk to the animals

To be able to find out from them

If they are like regular people.

 

Sometimes my mind goes wild

And I have a vivid imagination

When I wonder about other creatures

And the measure of their limitation.

 

In what ways are they like man?

And in what ways are they different?

Do they think like man thinks?

Or, do they have a different bent?

 

What are their thought processes?

Do they also have a mind?

And concerning the matter of imagination

Are they thus inclined?

 

 

I would find it difficult to accept

That animals have an imagination,

This would make them very human-like

And beyond my wildest expectation.

 

Imagination, as it occurs to me,

Is one of God’s many gifts to man

And meant to focus and facilitate our thinking

In relation to God’s remarkable plan.

 

Imagine a world that just happened

As some would want us to believe,

That imagination as far as I am concerned

Must be dead set to deceive.

 

 

Imagination can run away with us

And lead us down a wrong path

Or, like many of the playwrights and authors

Cause us to have a huge laugh.

 

All the master pieces in the arts

Were the result of somebody’s imagination

And some master mind in provocative thought

Was responsible for every innovation.

 

The wheel, the gear, the engine,

The buggy, the bus, the train,

Bungalows, skyscrapers and condos,

Ocean going vessels and passenger planes.

 

 

From a vast world to a global village

Via the telephone, cable and internet,

From bartering to cash and automatic tellers

To super lotto winners on a single bet.

 

From theatrical dramas to a movie stage

From vinyl to tape to iTunes,

Audio and video cellphone calls

And more recently video conferencing on Zoom.

 

 

Artificial intelligence and virtual meetings

Buying and selling on the internet,

Visa Card, Master Card and Debit Card

Of course, not to mention, deficits and debts.

 

All of these innovations began in the mind,

Somebody simply thought “What If”

And with this came an assemblage of thought

The origin? Imagination, if you catch my drift.

 

Imagination sees what the end could be

From the very origin of the thought,

Every idea, every process, every innovation,

Look around and see what imagination brought.

 

Some good, some bad, some indifferent,

Some an improvement and some a waste,

Some a good fit, some a no fit

And some were absolutely out of place.

 

Imagine the guns and tanks and scuds,

The nuclear and chemical warheads,

And imagine the carnage that can be had,

I wonder who would count the dead.

 

 

Animals come with defense mechanisms

Man’s imagination invented his own,

And when it comes to killing without reason

That is strictly in the human zone.

 

My imagination is running out

But I trust you have gotten my drift,

Humans have imagination, the animals do not

But with humans there is a greater rift.

 

Far more confusion among humans

Than there is among the animals,

I wish that we could use our imagination

To create more unity among all peoples.

 

Stewart Russell © February 3, 2021

 

Commonsense

 

 

Good sense and gumption

Reasonableness and judgment

Horse sense and mother wit

Sagacity and discernment

 

Commonsense is basic sense

As in the case of a horse

So that a human being without it

Is an indication he/she is lost.

 

To sink below a horse

In the manner of our reasoning

Is a very dangerous proposition

That is quite disheartening.

 

The fact of its very name

Indicates it should be common

But here it gets most interesting,

It is sadly lacking quite often.

 

Due to stark shortsightedness

It was contrasted with education

But education without commonsense

Is lacking information.

 

In commonsense is education

And education in commonsense

And to separate the two of them

Should be an unlawful offense.

 

Commonsense is now outlawed

And replaced with a pseudo education,

An education that only makes sense

To those with a warped imagination.

 

You may think that I am going mad

Given the argument that I bring

But it seems there is a competition

 

For thinking up the most stupid thing.  

Education is about progress

It is about using our commonsense

But the direction in which it is going

Is absolute nonsense.

 

Which says it is not education

But a horrible lack of commonsense

And so-called educated people

Are rushing to its defense.

 

Commonsense and education

Walk hand in hand always

And if what we do does not improve life

Then the two have parted ways.

 

I am tempted to be specific

But I am urging you on to think

Of the many so-called bright people

Who are leading us to the brink!

 

Commonsense is becoming extinct

And nonsense is taking its place,

Many line at stupidity starting point

To compete in the nonsense race.

 

It’s like the advent of virtual reality

Is of far more significance that the real

And what has been long established

Is now becoming quite stale.

 

Let us accommodate everyone

Regardless of what he/she believes,

And though it be void of commonsense

Let us embrace its appeal.

 

 

It’s like fake news and the factual

Both of these are publicizing the truth,

And what is tremendously amazing…

Both supply undeniable proof.

 

You can now have an exact copy

Of what a person did not say,

Word for word and comma for comma

That’s the new commonsense way.

 

My commonsense is not yours

And your commonsense is not mine,

But both of them are commonsense

Though commonsense of a different kind.

 

We have commonsense that is madness

And commonsense that is not common,

It is high time we define the term

To include the ridiculous and the wanton.

 

Then commonsense would be anything

That the weirdest weirdo would do:

In which case the only commonality would be

It has to be somebody's view.

 

Stewart Russell © October 2019

 

A Mysterious Happening

Andrea turned in her bed and fluffed the pillow for about the tenth time.  She was experiencing a rather restless night for it had been hot and sticky.  It was one of those summer nights when it would have been better to sleep with the top window open but she would have none of it.  Several times she had awakened from bouts of intermittent sleep to turn and fluff the moist pillow then stared at the ceiling before drifting off to sleep again.  This was one of those nights when morning appeared to take extremely long to come.

While staring at the ceiling she thought she had heard a voice.  The first time she ignored it, telling herself that it was her active imagination attempting to get the better of her.  She rolled over on her side to face the wall of her bedroom.  She covered her head with her pillow and tried to drift off.  “There’s that voice again,” she thought.  “It sounds so real and familiar.  But it can’t be Antoine.  She has been dead for over a year.”

It was not the first night that Andrea had heard her sister’s voice.  She had told her mother of the other instances.  On each occasion she was informed that she had been dreaming.  Andrea had countered that she could not have been dreaming on those occasions since she had found it difficult to sleep in the first place.  Her mother had told her that it was perhaps the result of a very active imagination.

There was the voice again.  This time there was no mistaking.  It was Antoine’s voice.  With the pillow still over her head, Andrea felt a very strong presence in the room.  She dared to remove the pillow from her face.  What she saw was the most startling sight that she had ever seen.  At the foot of her bed sat her twin sister, Antoine.  She appeared as real as ever, dressed in the same white outfit in which she was buried on that sunny Saturday afternoon.  How could she ever forget that dress!  She had chosen it.  She had remarked then that it was so much like Antoine, with its broad collar falling behind and in front of her shoulders complemented by the lily-white frills with lace on their edges.  As she reflected on the event then Antoine did not appear to be dead but only asleep.  At the time there appeared to be the faintest of smiles on her face.  She had always like playing tricks and planning pleasant surprises.  Could this have been one of them?

Antoine was a pleasant, fun-loving ten-year old.  She lived as if she knew that she had but a short earthly sojourn.  She was not only Andrea’s identical twin sister but she was also her best friend.  They were so alike that even their parents encountered difficulty telling one apart from the other.  You could well imagine the confusion they caused among their teachers as well as their peers at school.  Fortunately for all concerned, they were very well behaved children.  All was not well however, with the twin.  They were not only alike in resemblance and behaviour but both of them suffered with asthma.  Often one of them, and on occasions both of them, would experience extreme discomfort from asthma attacks.  Often too, they would have to be rushed to the hospital’s asthma bay in an effort to procure the relief that even their inhalers were unable to supply.

It was on one of those occasions when Antoine encountered her tragic experience.  She was walking home from school in the company of her sister when she complained that she was having difficulty breathing.  Her inhalers were of no use to her then.  Rushing to the home of a neighbour, Andrea persuaded him to take Antoine to the hospital.  The doctors had tried their utmost to save her but their efforts were in vain.  Remarkably, though, Antoine had remained conscious up to the very end.  It was as though she had planned it that way.  She had held on to her precious life until her mother and father arrived at the hospital.   With a weak attempt at a smile she had told them not to weep for her because she was going to a place where there would be no asthma and she would see them all again some day.  With that she closed her eyes and was gone.

Andrea had never quite accepted that her twin sister had actually died.  She would still reached out her hand to hug her like she had usually done at nights as they slept together.  Only now there was no Antoine...or was there?

She gazed unbelievingly into the beautiful eyes of her sister afraid to blink less she spoilt this moment and lost it forever.  “Antoine is it really you or are you up to one of your tricks again?”  She was tempted to move towards her, to reach out and touch her.  She dared not, however, afraid that Antoine would leave and never return.  “Come on,” she heard herself insist.  “Is it you, or is this my overactive imagination?”

Antoine looked into her eyes and smiled.  “It’s me, Andrea.  I wouldn’t fool you like this.  Why, you know we never really fooled one another.  I noticed that you couldn’t get to sleep so I came to comfort you.  I wanted you to know that everything is all right but mostly that you must never be afraid to die.  You must remember that it is easier to die than it is to live.  The challenge is not to die but to live and let your life count for something.  See the window over there?  Open it! Let the cool night air in.  Don’t be afraid.”  

Andrea was certain now that she was not dreaming.  She was so happy to see her sister again and know that all was well with her.  Antoine continued, “I have one more thing to tell you but you must promise not to tell anyone except Mummy and Daddy.  Promise?”

“Yes, I promise,” Andrea replied with heightened expectation in her voice.

“When I tell you what I have to tell you then Mummy will know for sure that we talked.  Your wish has come true.  You have come tops in the Common Entrance Examination in the whole island.  I could tell you your scores too, but I will leave that part of the surprise until tomorrow when you get back the results.”

 

“You mean that I have done so well in my exam?  Why, I can’t believe it.  You mean I have actually, finally bettered Shelly and Timothy?  I don’t even know what to say,” Andrea said with delirious joy.

“I am happy for you my twin sister.  Say hello to Mummy and Daddy for me and always be the best that you can be, Sis.  A whole world out there is depending on you.  Bye for now.”

In a moment she was gone.  Andrea rubbed her eyes and stretched out her feet.  They were cramped.  It was only then that she realized how motionless she had been.  She crawled reluctantly to the foot of the bed where Antoine was sitting.  She reached out timidly and touched the place where she had sat. 

“Was it for real or was it just a dream?”

Dawn found her staring at the ceiling and reflecting on the event of the night.  By this time she had decided that she would honour her sister’s wish and share the good news with no one except her parents.  This she did while they sat at breakfast.   Needless to say though, they did not believe her. 

“You see, Andrea,” her mother informed her, “You have missed Antoine so much that you are still denying that she has gone.”

“That’s true, my dear.  We miss her too,” her father added.

“I saw her and she spoke to me.  Wait and you’ll see when you get the news later today.”  Andrea stated emphatically.

Her parents knew that she was an industrious student.  “But coming first in the Common Entrance Examination?  No way!” they both thought, unaware of what the other was thinking at that precise moment.

Mrs. Hoyte, the principal, began to address the Class Four pupils.  Among them were two ten-year old students who had taken the exam.  They all waited anxiously to hear how they had done in the just concluded Secondary Schools’ Examination.  None was more expectant than Andrea.  Her eyes caught a movement in the corridor.  It was a crew from the local television station.  Andrea’s name was at the top of the list. She had not only scored the highest at her school but had done so across the entire island.  The television crew wanted to have an interview with her.

Yes!  She had done it.  No one had done better than she in the examination.  She had aced the Mathematics as well as the English and had scored an “A” in the essay.  She had written on the topic, “An Experience I Will Never Forget”.  As you might have guessed, it was all about the evening when her sister encountered that fatal asthma attack. 

As she stood on the platform basking in all of the praise and accolades, she whispered, “Thank you, Sis.  You were so correct.  This is for us!”

One of the camera crew asked, “Are you saying something, damsel?”

“No, no, never mind,” she replied, gazing past all of them.

“And to think of it,” she heard the principal announcing as though in the distance, “She is the youngest of them all.”

                                                     

Stewart Russell  © 2013