Thursday, June 30, 2016


My thoughts on the intracomplementarian battles over the nature of the Trinity

"No Corrugated Iron"

My grandpa said that to me one day!  "No Corrugated Iron"

I was frowning and he was reproving me. The frowns on my forehead formed the shape of Corrugated Iron, and to an  old surly builder, he could not tolerate the thought that the furrows on my forehead reminded him of corrugated iron.


Frowns are unhelpful things in life and in theology, and in childhood they are just plain perplexing.


I wonder why the grass is green

And why the sky is blue,

I wonder why the Painter should

Have chosen just these two

Instead of all the other ones,

I wonder why-don't you?

I wonder why the stars are there

And why they don't fall down,

And why the moon some night will make

Queer faces like a clown,

And when I ask my Nurse these things

Why ever does she frown?


I do not understand the world,

For I am very new;

I only wish the People saw

Things from my point of view;

They must have had their nursery days

When they were babies too;

I wonder why they have forgot,

I wonder why-don't you?


They are difficult in life, and put up barriers between neighbours and friends.

And I went homeward to our quaint old farm,

And he went on his way;

And he has never crossed that field again

From that time to this day.

I wonder if he ever gives a thought

To what he left behind

As I start sometimes, dreaming that I hear

A footstep in the wind.

If he had said but one regretful word,

Or I had shed a tear,

He would not go alone about the world,

Nor I sit lonely here.

Alas! our hearts were full of angry pride,

And love was choked in strife;

And so the stile beyond the yellow grass

Stands straight across our life.

Sometimes they come through the unpleasantnesses of life. But that need not be.


You're beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that?

Come up with a smiling face;

It's nothing against you to fall down flat,

But to lie there, that's disgrace.

Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's ;

Or a trouble's what you make it,

And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that count

But only how did you take it?


My Theological friends : "No Corrugated Iron!"

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