A house that cannot stand – 7 June 2021

Here is a house that was once beautiful. It was built from clapboard and painted a soft pink, which would caused it to seem to shine against the green of the grass. The roof was pitched to allow for snow. The windows were large and well glazed, permitting good views in every direction.

And then the house began to slide on its meagre foundations, and the walls slipping away from each other. The inhabitants are long gone. Soon it will collapse completely, leaving not much beyond a pile of wood and rubble in the middle of a field.

Who once lived here? When was it abandoned? What is the story of good beginnings, a hoped for life in this location, dashed by neglect and decay?

As well as a home, this building is a metaphor, speaking of all that might built in life. Here the building has not been good, a warning to all who do not pay attention to foundations, or do not regularly repair the home in which they live – temporal or spiritual.

 

This photograph is of a house on Prince Edward Island.

 

 If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand.  If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand.

Mark 3:23-24

 

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

Matthew 7:24-27

The Props assist the House

Until the House is built
And then the Props withdraw
And adequate, erect,
The House support itself
And cease to recollect
The Augur and the Carpenter –
Just such a retrospect
Hath the perfected Life –
A Past of Plank and Nail
And slowness – then the scaffolds drop
Affirming it a Soul –

Emily Dickinson