The Doe of the Dawn: A Christian World View . . .

Restoration Review · 1983-84
(Volumes 25, 26)


PREFACE

This volume containing two years of Restoration Review launches me the fourth decade of my editorial efforts, being the thirty-first and thirty-second years of my tenure as an editor. It somehow seems appropriate that these years be symbolized by the Doe of the Dawn, or the lonely deer who has lost its way during the night only to find hope of rejoining his friends with the coming of dawn.

Being an editor, especially a libertarian editor, is not unlike the chastened doe standing on a craggy summit, half lost and half found, looking hopefully to the break of light beyond the vast stretches of the eastern hills. The commingling of anxiety and hope seems apropos, just as a realistic ,-jew of our troubled world is defensible when it is balanced by radiant optimism. It is to the credit of the wandering deer that however dark the night became he did not forget that after awhile the dawn breaks for those who wait.

And waiting is all too rare a virtue, just as "Blessed are those who wait upon the Lord" is a neglected beatitude. Artist Tom Farr, a member with me of the Church of Christ of Denton, has captured in his drawing the blessedness of waiting. Even if the doe cries out "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me" (Ps. 22:1), and even if in the dark night he finds no rest (verse 2), still he waits for the break of day. And at last she can sing I will praise thee! and invite all others who reverence God to do so (vss. 22-23). It is noteworthy that those who might be led to wonder if God has forsaken them, including the Christ himself, are often the ones who go on to praise Him most gloriously. It is possible that Jesus in his agony on the Cross not only quoted the first verse of this psalm of the Doe of the Dawn, but the whole of it.

Study David's psalm and Tom's drawing with care, for they point up the grace of waiting on God. Here we have the hardest and most rewarding lessons of life to learn: to attune our impulsiveness to God's time; to accept His methods, which seem slow to us, rather than our own; to keep pace with the patience of God and to reject the arrogance of man's haste.

Isaiah (30: 18) joins the psalmist in calling upon the people to wait upon the Lord's deliverance rather than trust in the strength of Egypt, which the prophet exposed as "worthless and empty." He calls for quietness and trust, and he warns against relying upon a plan that is not God's. Blessed are those who wait ... We can imagine that if there had been a press in Isaiah's time such a policy would have been ridiculed as madness.

The Doe of the Dawn relied upon Isaiah's kind of trust. She saw God as holy and enthroned on the praises of His people (Psa. 22:3), as well as the God in whom her people trusted. God takes LIS from our mother's womb (vs. 9) and we stand in awe of Him (vs. 23). Finally she affirms with the great prophets that "God rules over the nations" (vs. 28). We therefore do not wait for His purposes in vain.

Tom's drawing and the spirit of the psalms suggest still another imagery as we think of all this in terms of a Christian world view: "As the hart pants after the water brooks, so pants my soul after thee, 0 God" (Ps. 42: 1). Our view of things from first to last is a matter of attitude. It is like the man who was told that he must accept the fact that suffering colors life, who responded that while that was true he could choose the color. If in our earthly sojourn our mission is to find God and to build His kingdom on earth, however slowly, then our world view will have the right hue. To hunger for God like the hart longs for water, that is the issue of life.

And that is the essence of my world view. Like the Doe of the Dawn I believe that God is in control and like Luther I believe that we are on the winning side. I accept the night of life and like the Lord himself I sometimes cry out My God, why … And like the doe I go on praising Him, believing that it will all come out right. The dawn will break and I will find my way.

They say The Doe of the Dawn was sung by an ancient tune that no one now knows. Was it a dirge or an idyll, a song of sorrow or one of mirth? We choose the tune we will; we select the color that life takes. And yet there is wisdom and balance in Shakespeare's insistence that

There's a divinity that shapes our ends,
Rough-hew them how we will.