My name is Aashik Rao and I am branded with the name of Christ. I count it a great privilege and blessing to join my dear brother JM in writing some articles for this blog.
Through God’s gracious Providence, I came across this site last summer – and to that day I give God much thanks and praise! It was here, through the preaching of Paul Washer, that I was first exposed to the biblical gospel. It was here, that I came across Reformed theologians, who presented truth that was doctrinally sound. But more than anything else, it was here, that I first began to behold God as the sovereign King, the Holy Judge, the gracious High Priest that He was – and that sight burned upon the depths of my heart has left me mercifully changed.
And so, to contribute what my feeble hands may bring, is my heart’s desire and joy. My vessel is empty and my strength is null, yet my hope is “that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him, having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe” (Ephesians 1:17-19).
Now without further ado, my reasons for taking up this task, I tell:
I saw, for countless days and weeks,
Within my soul a scene so bleak,
My heart so cold and colorless,
So hard to melt and to confess,
The grave offenses to my King,
A Lord so gracious and forgiving.
Oh what darkness and despair,
Canst my poor soul, my Lord repair?
So I cried out a while ago,
Lord, Lord, destroy my foe!
The enemy that lies within,
Who casts me down in monstrous sin.
And so, I shed some crocodile tears,
Till hypocrisy swept away my fears,
And once again, I did return,
To pride and sin; His love I spurned.
But oh, my Father, loving and kind,
His rod, once more I soon did find,
And grief persisted day by day,
In great despond, my soul did lay.
In this wretched, grievous pain,
I waited for His grace to rain,
And quench the fires of blazing sin,
Yet, soon my patience grew so thin.
And so, for counsel did I seek,
From a friend, so low and meek,
A godly lady, advanced in grace,
Years of affliction had she faced.
In all her distress and woeful pain,
She rejoiced and said, “Christ is my gain!”
And to her, whose wisdom came from Him,
I thought to share my pain so grim.
To her, I told my pitiful plight,
Asked how I could this evil fight.
And words that like a bell did ring,
The Lord through her did say these things:
“Hark! My dear and piteous friend,
Have confidence in Him who mends!
Bear with words I have to say,
Ponder them; do not dismay!
Hear me, friend, and feel no dudgeon
Hear me first, and judgment save:
Shall you hope in darkly dungeons,
Or look for light in deepest caves?
If not, why do you seek for joy,
When within yourself you look?
Do you think it humble and coy,
To ignore your Savior’s brook?
Look up, behold His majesty!
And let His glorious light cleanse thee
By the Law, you have no hope,
So then cling tight to Christ’s strong rope!
Rest in Him and there abide,
Within His righteousness, go hide,
For nowhere else will you find
Refuge for heart and soul and mind!”
And so I did thank her for this,
Sound counsel that was not amiss,
And on my knees I fell and wept,
My soul felt bleak and so bereft.
Yet as my heart became contrite,
I looked and saw a glorious sight,
Of my Beloved beckoning me,
To come and sup and dine with He!
In but a moment His love did flood,
My thirsty soul, which long was dry.
A glimpse of glory and His blood,
In joy and gladness my heart did cry!
For days on end, I walked as one,
Who’d heard anew His Savior’s voice,
I looked upon what He had done,
And dull became the world’s vile noise.
A month has passed since that sweet day,
And I still long to walk that way,
Full of Him who took my hell,
Till joy o’erflows like a well.
But alas, within me lies,
A wicked monster in disguise.
His name is Flesh, and he desires,
To rob my joy and make me dire.
To have him gone and burned in fire,
It is my heart’s great desire.
To have him mortified and dead,
To slaughter him and have his head.
He takes from my precious joy,
In Christ and His heavenly things,
He exalts my heart o’er my Lord,
So, with all I have, him, I despise.
Thus, my heart spoke and speaks still. I see within me sin, burning as embers softly lit, yet so quickly and easily provoked to outward manifestations of evil. It is as if a cavern of rottenness lies within, which though destroyed by the strike Christ made in Calvary, fills my soul with a noxious stench. My indwelling sin and utter depravities sicken me ~ especially so, when my heart is so ignorant of their existence.
And so, I long to be broken.
I long to have my entire being laid open by the grand Surgeon that His scalpel may come and remove the grave and dangerous tumors that lie within the recesses of my heart. I long to have my entire being ground to the dust, nay beneath the dust, so that I would behold His power and glory from that lowly sanctuary. I long to have my entire being subject to His fatherly discipline and gentle rod, that He may then lead me with His staff to everlasting and green pastures.
Too often ‘repentance’ is a self-righteous thing. It is a shedding of tears without a breaking of the soul. And often, for a few days, it keeps the soul in restraint, before once more blazing forth in brazen sin.
So, I seek not tears from my eyes, nor sobs from my lungs. I seek the bloody tears of the soul and the heavy sighs of a broken heart. For there, and there alone, I know I can find the comfort promised to the mourning.
I have for so long contented myself with a form of religion, pleasing to my flesh. I have contented myself in defending true doctrine, in debating those in error, and in boasting in my theological knowledge. Yet, of the Christlike humility and lowliness, and the broken tenderness of heart toward God and man – I know very little of.
It is a tendency in me, and perhaps others in the Reformed community, to be thorough in my doctrinal precision and my systematic theology, yet forgetful that doxology that must flow forth from true theology. I fear that I know far more than I shall ever appropriate in faith ~ not because my knowledge is great, but because my faith is so little.
My longing is thus, not for a Christian intellectualism – neither is it for a mindless mysticism practiced by many. But like men of old, my heart craves for knowledge of truth that burns past the mind into the heart and sets ablaze an unquenchable zeal for God. I long to say with Jeremiah, “there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot” (Jeremiah 20:9).
Yet, this hunger – it is not one rooted in a desire for self-improvement or a form of righteousness that is filthy rags before God. Nay – it is simply a desire to burn away the smoky layers of sin which cloud the sight of my Savior’s glory. One of the greatest abominations of sin is the degree to which it obstructs our vision of heavenly glory.
How can we treasure the breadth and the height and the depths of His grace, if we have eyes polluted with the things of the world? How can the oceans of delight in His glory form if the rivers of tears from repentance have not first flowed? How can I truly behold the Lord of hosts, without first saying with Isaiah “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!” (Isaiah 6:5)?
So, upon this journey I did begin. And I count it a blessing untold that the Lord has brought me to join my precious brother, JM Vergara on this path. Together, we cry out to God that we would be taught the blessed lesson of lowliness, so that we would be clothed with a humility that comes from upon high.
In this season, we have begun to read and meditate together on the tale “Pilgrim’s Progress”, as we join the character young “Christian” on his path to the celestial city. It is our prayer that we may be as successful as he, for our hope is in the same sovereign God of grace and power to preserve us till that day.i
And so we are not without hope. Though we see the depths of our poverty, we know that abundant grace waits to heal us. Though we see that we are the most needy children of God in all the world, we know that He is most gracious even to the poorest and weakest of His children. And our hope thus rings as the prophet Micah’s for Israel:
He will again have compassion on us;
he will tread our iniquities underfoot.
You will cast all our sins
into the depths of the sea.
You will show faithfulness to Jacob
and steadfast love to Abraham,
as you have sworn to our fathers
from the days of old.—Micah 7:19-20
Upon that sure covenant sworn to Abraham and ratified by Christ’s blood, we stand confident that He who grows fruit on the branches of the Vine shall do so even upon us most unworthy servants.
Join us, then O reader – and keep us in your prayers. All profit that you may gain from our words is from God and Him alone, for we are as weak and sinful as you. So then, pray for us that our writing might instruct and change us, by the power of the Holy Spirit, as it does, Lord willing, with you. Accompany us then in this journey to see the mystery of faith and the paradox of our heavenward journey and let us pray together:
Let me learn by paradox that the way down is the way up, that to be low is to be high, that the broken heart is the healed heart, that the contrite spirit is the rejoicing spirit, that the repenting soul is the victorious soul, that to have nothing is to possess all, that to bear the cross is to wear the crown, that to give is to receive, that the valley is the place of vision.