The Flight from God

                           

​“I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years;

I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways

Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears

I hid from Him, and under running laughter.”

— Francis Thompson, The Hound of Heaven

Francis Thompson’s masterful poem, "The Hound of Heaven," is the ultimate literary expression of humanity's flight from God. The speaker runs ceaselessly from the divine presence—fleeing through time, through their own complex thoughts, and into fleeting worldly pleasures like ambition, love, and childhood innocence.

​He attempts to find happiness and safety everywhere except in the arms of the Pursuer. But no matter where he turns, he hears the relentless, echoing footsteps and the calm, insistent voice of the Divine Lover, a voice that calls out the heartbreaking truth: "All things betray thee, who betrayest Me."

​This desperate flight and the subsequent emptiness are the necessary prerequisites for understanding the depth of God's love, the love that is not content to let us be miserable in our self-made freedom.

​The Waiting Pursuit

​This is where the ancient wisdom of Isaiah 30:18 provides the beautiful answer to the poem's tension - "And therefore will Jehovah wait, that he may be gracious unto you; and therefore will he be exalted, that he may have mercy upon you: for Jehovah is a God of justice; blessed are all they that wait for him".

​The people of Judah, like the poem’s speaker, were running away—fleeing God's counsel and seeking help from Egypt instead of resting in His strength. They were choosing the labyrinthine ways of their own minds over the quietness and confidence God offered (Isaiah 30:15).

​But then comes the astonishing reversal: “Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion.”

​The "Hound of Heaven" is not a furious hunter, but a Patient Parent. The chasing is not done in anger, but in longing. The text says the Lord waits to be gracious.

• ​He waits for our self-reliance to crumble.

• ​He waits for the finite pleasures we pursue to turn to dust in our hands.

• ​He waits for us to exhaust our flight down the "nights and down the days."

​The moment we stop running, we don't find a condemning Judge; we find a compassionate Father who has been longing for us to turn around.

​The Peace in Surrender

​The verse concludes, “blessed are all who wait for him!”

​To "wait" for the Lord here means more than simply being patient; it means to stop running and to confidently rely on Him and Him alone. It is the moment the exhausted runner in the poem finally collapses, only to realize the pursuing footsteps halt right beside him, and the voice speaks a promise of final peace.

​The persistent love of the Hound of Heaven is not designed to terrify us, but to drive us to the only place where true rest exists: His presence.

Soon we will celebrate Christmas. What is it all about? We should realize it's all part of God pursuing us, to the extent of sending His Son, to endure pain, torture and human death, in the pursuit of our rescue. In the excitement of celebrations let us not forget that.

​Today, let's stop running. Consider what parts of our life we are currently using as a hiding place from God’s complete authority or intimate presence (e.g., control, busy-ness, self-sufficiency, ambition).