Dark Times, Dark Places

by Corey Bjertness

“Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member
of the Jewish ruling council.  He came to Jesus at night…”
John 3:1-2

Years ago, I penned the words, “Dark Night of the Soul.” I do not know if I had ever heard the phrase before I first wrote it, but, learned later it has existed since the 6^th Century. I did not spend much time explaining it the first time I spoke about this dreadful season. But everybody in the room knew what I meant. It is the space between nowhere and somewhere on life’s journey marked with struggles, question marks, confusion, and often pain. THE DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL!

As a society, we are indeed in such a time. Perhaps, you are in such a time as an individual, also. If you are, I would like to offer you some spiritual guidance that has helped me through the years. Here it is. God’s love is greater than whatever you/we are going through. 

I think one of the greatest hymns ever written reminds us of this. Here are the first two verses.

The love of God is greater far
than tongue or pen can ever tell.
    It goes beyond the highest star
And reaches to the lowest hell.
The guilty pair bowed down with care,
and God gave His Son to win;
    His erring child He reconciled
and pardoned from his sin.

When hoary time shall pass away,
and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall;
    When men who here refuse to pray,
on rocks and hills and mountains call;
God’s love, so sure, shall still endure,
All measureless and strong;
    Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Frederick M. Lehman, a Nazarene Minister who was working at the time as a day laborer, wrote these words in 1917. Unfortunately, he struggled to finish the work. Lehman knew instinctively knew the song needed a final verse but came up with nothing. But, then he remembered the lyrics of a poem a fellow preacher had given. These lyrics were found penciled on the wall of a patient’s room in an insane asylum.  But, their origination is actually from a Jewish poem written in the 11^th Century. 

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
    Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
would drain the ocean dry.
    Nor could the scroll contain the whole, 
though stretched from sky to sky.

Some poor soul who found his/her mental health stripped away by tribulation or time reached back and remembered a great truth. I hope it brought our scribe from old the same peace it has offered the masses since. 

Let me close by reminding you again. 

God is greater.

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