Showing posts with label Easter Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Easter Reflections. Show all posts

Saturday, March 2, 2024

The Risen Life

        Easter is a season of joy and flowers-let it be also a time for spiritual awakening and the growth of faiths; it is a season when joyful chorals are sung on every hand - let it be also marked by generous charities and Christ-like ministries to those who now sit in the shadow of death, or who pine in the desserts of a religionless experience. Resurrection should not all of it be postponed until the last day - much of it may take place on earth in redeemed hearts and evangelized society. It should be remembered that the Lord is even now by his spirit converting hearts to the likeness of a higher life. Resurrection thus becomes a continual process, consummated at last in the skies, where it reaches the plane of a perfect life. The Lord, if we believe and are faithful, will perfect that which concerneth us. 

"Why Come Ye At Break of Morning?"

What Easter Owes to Good Friday

        I love Easter, with its tranquil certitude that death is vanquished. Easter! It is a brightness of the soul more beautiful than the brightness of the day, more evident than the sun. I would that I could carry into all hearts filled with shadow, veiled in mourning, a ray of that divine dawn.
       Why, then, do so many Christians fail to catch the vivifying secret of this royal day?
       It is because they do not know what Easter owes to Good Friday. The glory of Easter is not directly accessible to us. To conquer it we must pass through the "via dolorosa." Such is the meaning of the Scripture. Superficial man sees the spirit of God only in the miracle that reads the rock of the tomb into fragments, and he stretches out his hand to grasp the miracle; but his hand remains empty. The Christian soul throughout the ages is not thus deceived. It says, "From the Cross, the Crown."
       Thou tellest me, brother, that thou canst not believe in the Easter message. Thou dost not astonish me beyond measure. Didst thou see the Christ die? And those who, like Him, die for love of others? Hast thou felt the greatness of those vanquished for God, for justice? Hast thou wished to be able to die like them? If these things are unknown to thee, how canst thou discern the Easter message? Thou hast not the eyes to bear the light.
       The crucible of life is terrible. In our nights, in our dungeons, in our supreme struggles, show us not the Risen, but the Crucified One! It is from His dead eyes that the eternal dawn of Easter is kindled. To die as He died, to die with Him, is to spell the unknown Verb of the true life. There is no other school to liberate men from the hideous chains of all their slaveries, and from the most awful of all--their slavery to death. There is no other school that does this but the school of the Cross.
       If, then, thou wouldst bathe thy soul in the victorious brightness of Easter, know this: Easter is the supernatural daylight: Good Friday the night of anguish, from whose bosom the cry arises on the air, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"
       But do not misapprehend -- this light comes from that night. There, in the thick darkness, opens the door into the "kingdom that cometh not with observation."
       It is Thou, O Christ! It is Thy spirit which is the Resurrection and the Life! Have pity upon us who are children in faith! Thou Who hast trod the dust of our earth! Thou Who hast passed through our twilights! Thou Who hast lain with us in the tomb, that the tomb might be less dark! Holy Victim of Calvary! Man of Sorrows! May our souls across our humble religious symbols be granted a glimpse of Thine ineffable grandeur.
       Come and tell us words of life, Thou Who art eternal! Sound the awakening in our torpor, in our lassitude! Sound the trumpet of morning through the night of our graves!
       And in this Easter time may all that is divine in us thrill and rise in holy insurrection against death and all its conspirators, and for life and all its alliances. Amen. by Charles Wagner.
 

 Sandi Patty sings "Via Dolorosa"

Thursday, February 29, 2024

An Easter Significance

The Burial Procession from Christian Clip Art Review.
 

        "This is one of the Easter significances of death, that through it, God is transferring our affections, our longings, our hopes, our plans, from earth to heaven-from the testing-place to the dwelling place, from the dark valley of preparation to the shining lights of eternal realization. He weans us over, as it were, from earth to heaven, by taking our loved ones to himself, and leading after them our hearts' desires and our sanctified imaginations and hopes. All the beauties and glories of the apocalyptic vision might make no appeal to us, satisfied as we are with this earth where our loved ones dwell, if God did not endear to us the city which is to be our eternal home by calling some of our cherished ones to dwell there. Then immediately our longings to go out to it, we dream of it, we live so as to be more fit for it." author unknown.

Dani and Lizzy sing "Dancing In The Sky"

Sunday, April 9, 2023

The Resurrection of Christ

 THE RESURRECTION OF CHRIST.
RT. REV. SAMUEL FALLOWS, D. D.

       TAKE clear the fact of the resurrection of Christ, it will be a fact that chimes with humanity’s unutterable longings, and fits in as the key-stone of the radiant arch of its hopes. Make clear that fact, and then, as the meridian sun brings out in all their boldness the mountains, and in all their beauty, the swarded valleys faintly described in the dim twilight, so will a risen Sun of righteousness bring out these hints, and truths, and ideas, in controlling power over the intellect, and influence over the practical life. Make clear that fact, and one simple-minded Christian believer, full of resurrection power, shall chase a thousand carping rationalists, and two shall put ten thousand to flight. Our faith in God, asks of God—a risen Redeemer.
       St. Paul claims, if Christ be not risen, faith in Him is vain. So interwoven with the very life, and teachings, and death of Christ was the truth of His resurrection, that to deny the latter would be to destroy, root and branch, all faith in Him as Teacher and Savior. He had said, “ Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it again.” After the surpassing glory of the transfiguration, he had commanded, “ Tell the vision to no man until the Son of man be risen from the dead.”
       He must either have been unconsciously deceived, and then he would have shown himself a weak, erring man, and no longer entitled to the claim of a teacher sent from God; or he must have been a willful impostor, and thus have sunk in the mire trodden beneath the feet of indignant, deluded men. If Christ be not risen, your faith is vain; your faith in Him as a Savior is vain. Your Christian consciousness is a nullity, and a He. There has been no atonement Ye are yet in your sins. Life, death, resurrection, all enter into the redeeming work of Christ He was “delivered for our offenses, and raised again for our justification.” “If thou shalt confess with thy mouth, the Lord Jesus, and believe in thine heart that God raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.” No resurrection, no salvation.
       He asserts of the apostles: “We are found false witnesses.” We, who were fully competent by reason of our numbers, to be believed, for there were the eleven apostles, the two Marys, Cleopas the most of the seventy, and five hundred others beside. Nearly all were living, and ready to testify. Fully competent, as to our powers of judgment and varied experience; fully competent, from the opportunities we have enjoyed of knowing the facts to which we bear witness. We have been with the Savior; we have known him intimately; we have treasured up His words. His image is stamped upon our hearts; we beheld His miracles; we knew he was crucified; we went to the tomb, expecting to find the body there; we saw Him alive again; we saw His pierced hands and wounded side; we heard the familiar voice; we received our high commission; we saw Him ascend into glory.
       We have gained nothing, from an earthly standpoint, but loss of home, of friends, of reputation. We are made the filth and off scouring of the world. We are made a spectacle unto angels and to men. Stripes, bonds, imprisonment are before us. The headsman’s axe glitters in the sun. “To the Hons, to the Hons!” rings in our ears. Covered with pitch, and set on fire, we shall light the streets of Rome by midnight! If in this hope only, we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable.
       How the apostle, with jubilant utterance, turns away from the loathsome impossibility he has presented.
       “Now is Christ risen from the dead and become the first fruits of them that slept.” The irrefutable fact stands forth in all its glorious majesty and infinite sweep of meaning.
       The Gospel records must be torn to tatters, and scattered with the rent sybilline leaves, never more to be gathered. The whole colossal fabric of Christianity must have been built upon an abyss. The head and founder of the Church must have been created by the Church. A man must have been the father of his own ancestors, before this fact can be successfully denied.
       Christ is risen from the dead. His own words have been justified. Christ is risen from the dead, and God has given the seal and sign manual to his Messianic mission. He has declared Him to be the Son of God, with power. Christ is risen from the dead, and an unsetting sun—the new and unfailing center of attraction—has burst forth in glory from the darkness of the tomb. Christ is risen, and we, too, shall rise. Every charnel house is robbed of its terrors. The sting has been plucked from death, and the grave been robbed of its victory. The darkness has forever passed. It is morning.
       In that beautiful city of the dead, Greenwood cemetery, where the precious dust of so many loved ones reposes—that city, on its eminence, graced with flowers, fit resurrection—emblems of life and  loveliness springing from decay, and melodious with the music of birds—that city, overlooking the city of the living below it, and the river and the sea beyond it, contains here and there a broken pedestal, which speaks of plans unrealized, and expectations unfulfilled; of aspirations unsatisfied, and ends unachieved. But on some of them is a hand pointing upward. A risen Christ is the inspiration of the  thought. The upward pointing is the mute and eloquent suggestion, that on the plains of the New Jerusalem, the column of life shall be erected.
       A limited sphere here, a boundless amphitheatre there. Seeming failure here, assured success there. Dead hopes here, living realizations there. Bafflings, disappointments here; unimpeded progress them Home there, rewards there, friends there, Jesus there. Can we doubt the life beyond? “Therefore, my beloved brethren, be ye steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, forasmuch as ye know that your labor is not in vain, in the Lord.”

The Dead Are The Living

In loving memory.
        I have seen one die-the delight of his friends, the pride of his kindred, the hope of his country: but he died! How beautiful was that offering upon the altar of death! The fire of genius kindled in his eye; the generous affections of youth mantled in his cheek; his foot was upon the threshold of life; his studies, his preparations for honored and useful life, were completed; his breast was filled with a thousand glowing, and noble, and never yet expressed aspirations; but he died! He died; while another, of a nature dull, coarse and unrefined, of habits low, base, and brutish, of a promise that had nothing in it but shame and misery-such an one, I say was suffered to encumber the earth. Could this be, if there were no other sphere for the gifted, the aspiring, and the approved, to act in? Can we believe that the energy just trained for action, the embryo thought just bursting into expression, the deep and earnest passion of a noble nature, just swelling into the expansion of every beautiful virtue, should never manifest its power, should never speak, should never unfold itself? Can we believe that all this should die; while meanness, corruption, sensuality, and every deformed and dishonored power should live? No, ye goodly and glorious ones! ye godlike in youthful virtue!-ye die not in vain: ye teach, ye assure us, that ye are gone to some world of nobler life and action.
       I have seen one die; she was beautiful; and beautiful were the ministries of life that were given her to fulfill. Angelic loveliness enrobed her; and a grace as if it were caught from heaven, breathed in every tone, hallowed every affection, shone in every action-invested, as a halo, her whole existence, and made it a light and blessing, a charm and a vision of gladness, to all around her: but she died! Friendship, and love, parental fondness, and infant weakness, stretched out their hand to save her; but they could not save her: and she died! What! did all that loveliness die? Is there no land of the blessed and the lovely ones, for such to live in? Forbid it, reason, religion!-bereaved affection, and undying love! forbid the thought! It cannot be that such die in God's counsel, who live even in frail human memory, forever!  Rev. Orville Dewey, D. D

Saturday, April 8, 2023

Life is For Character, and Character For Immortality

"And endurance produces character, and 
character produces hope... Romans 5:4

 LIFE IS FOR CHARACTER, AND CHARACTER FOR IMMORTALITY.
CARDINAL J. H. NEWMAN.

      WHAT is our life for? There can be but one answer. This world is a training-school for character; as a pleasure-garden or a workshop it is a failure. Its flowers fade, its beauties pall, its work is never done, and is often broken off in the midst, or at the very beginning. There must be some better vindication of the Creator. It is this: The world is a school-house for man, for the whole of man. He has numerous faculties and powers; none can be left out. He has body, intellect, sensibilities, will. Are these all of man? Has he no conscience, no religious aspiration, no "longing after immortality?" Philosophy must include all the facts. Any view of life which debars from the fullest culture any part of our complex nature is essentially defective, and any view which omits the highest part is practically false.
      This last indictment will be found to stand against the scheme of culture drawn out in the eloquent words of Mr. Huxley: ''That man, I think, has had a liberal education who has been so trained in youth that his body is the ready servant of his will, and does with ease and pleasure all the work that as a mechanism it is capable of; whose intellect is a clear, cold, logic engine, with all its parts of equal strength and in smooth working order-ready, like a steam-engine, to be turned to any kind of work, and spin the gossamers as well as forge the anchors of the mind; whose mind is stored with the great and fundamental truths of Nature, and of the laws of her operations; one who, no stunted ascetic, is full of life and fire, but whose passions are trained to come to heel by a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience; who has learned to love all beauty, whether of nature or art, to hate all vileness, and to respect others as himself.'' Lovely picture of a culture radically defective; and in this defective form absolutely impossible, for lack of the divine element. No man ever yet trained ''a vigorous will, the servant of a tender conscience,'' and learned ''to hate all vileness and to respect others as himself,'' save under the searching eye of God, and by the transforming energy and abiding inspiration of the Holy Ghost.
      There is painful proof that many professing Christians have no better notions of the possibilities of noble culture which every day affords than are indicated in our quotation from Mr. Huxley. They prize not the moments as gold dust, and are often laboriously occupied in 'killing time.' A competent authority declares the end of life to be to ''seek for glory, honor, and immortality:'' the glory of a true, symmetrical, godly character; the honor such a character is sure to win, and the immortality to which it leads.

Friday, April 7, 2023

Man, Body, Soul and Spirit

 MAN, BODY, SOUL AND SPIRIT.
REV. F. W. ROBERTSON

       The apostle Paul divides human nature into a three-fold divisions. This language of the apostle, when rendered into English, shows no difference whatever between ''soul'' and ''spirit.'' We say for instance, that the soul of man has departed from him. We also say that the spirit of a man has departed from him. There is no distinct difference between the two; but in the original two very different kinds of thoughts, two very different modes of conception, are presented by the two English words ''soul'' and ''spirit.'' When the apostle speaks of the body, what he means is the animal life- that which we share in common with beasts, birds, and reptiles; for our life, our sensational existence, differs but little from that of the lower animals. There is the same external form, -the same material in the blood vessels, in the nerves, and in the muscular system. Nay, more than that, our appetites and instincts are alike, our lower pleasures like their lower pleasures, our lower pain like their lower pain; our life is supported by the same means, and our animal functions are almost indistinguishably the same.
       But, once more, the apostle speaks of what he calls the ''soul.'' What the apostle meant by what is translated ''soul‚'' is the immortal part of man-the immaterial as distinguished from the material; those powers, in fact, which man has by nature-powers natural, which are yet to survive the grave. There is a distinction made in Scripture by our Lord between these two things. ''Fear not,'' says He, ''them who can kill the body; but rather fear Him who can destroy both body and soul in hell.''
       We have, again, to observe, respecting this, that what the apostle called the ''soul‚'' is not simply distinguishable from the body, but also from the spirit. By the soul the apostle means our powers natural- the powers which we have by nature. Herein is the soul distinguishable from the spirit. In the Epistle to the Corinthians we read, ''But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God: for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things.'' Observe, there is a distinction drawn between the natural man and the spiritual. What is there translated ''natural‚'' is derived from precisely the same word as that which is here translated ''soul.'' So that we may read, just as correctly, ''The man under the dominion of the soul receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. But he that is spiritual judgeth all things.'' And again, the apostle, in the same Epistle to the Corinthians, writes: ''That is not first which is spiritual, but that which is natural;'' that is, the endowments of the soul precede the endowments of the spirit. You have the same truth in other places. The powers that belong to the spirit were not the first developed; but the powers which belong to the soul, that is, the power of nature. Again, in the same chapter, reference is made to the natural and spiritual body. ''There is a natural body, and there is a spiritual body.'' Literally, there is a body governed by the soul, that is, powers natural; and there is a body governed by the Spirit, that is, higher nature. Let, then, this be borne in mind, that what the apostle calls ''soul'' is the same as that which he calls, in another place, the ''natural man.'' These powers are divisible into two branches-the intellectual powers and the moral sense. The intellectual powers man has by nature. Man need not be regenerated in order to possess the power of reasoning, or in order to invent. The intellectual powers belong to what the apostle calls the ''soul.'' The moral sense distinguishes between right and wrong. The apostle tells us, in the Epistle to the Romans, that the heathen-manifestly natural men-had the law ''work of the written in their hearts; their conscience also bearing witness.''
       The third division of which the apostle speaks he calls the ''spirit;'' and by the spirit he means that life in man which, in his natural state, is in such an embryo condition that it can scarcely be said to exist at all,-that which is called out into power and vitality by regeneration, the perfections of the powers of human nature. And you will observe that it is not merely the instinctive life, nor the intellectual life, nor the moral life, but it is principally our nobler affections,-that existence, that state of being, which we call love. That is the department of human nature which the apostle calls the spirit; and accordingly, when the Spirit of God was given on the day of Pentecost, you will remember that another power of man was called out, differing from what he was before. That Spirit granted on the day of Pentecost did subordinate to Himself, and was intended to subordinate to Himself, the will, the understanding, and the affection of man; but you often find these spiritual powers were distinguished from the natural powers, and existed without them. So, in the highest state of religious life, we are told, men prayed in the spirit. Till the spirit has subordinated the understanding, the gift of God is not complete‚-has not done its work. It is abundantly evident that a new life was called out. It was not merely the sharpening of the intellectual powers; it was calling out powers of aspiration and love to God; those affections which have in them something boundless,-that are not limited to this earth, but seek their completion in the mind of God Himself

"Where The Spirit Of The Lord Is" from Life.Church

Friday, April 9, 2021

In the cross of Christ we glory...

        In the cross of Christ we glory, because we regard it as a matchless exhibition of the attributes of God. We see there the love of God, desiring a way by which He might save mankind, aided by His wisdom, so that a plan is perfected by which the deed can be done without violation of truth and justice. In the cross we see a strange conjunction of what once appeared to be two opposite qualities - justice and mercy. We see how God is supremely just; as just as if He had no mercy, and yet infinitely merciful in the gift of His Son. Mercy and justice, in fact, become counsel upon the same side, and irresistibly plead for the acquittal of the believing sinner. We can never tell which of the attributes of God shines most glorious in the sacrifice of Christ; they each one find a glorious high throne in the person and work of the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world. Since it has become, as it were, the disc which reflects the character and perfections of God, it is meet that we should glory in the cross of Christ, and none shall stay us of our boasting. Spurgeon.

Austin Stone Worship Live

Thou art my King- 
My King henceforth alone;
And I, Thy Servant, Lord, am all Thine own.
Give me Thy strength; oh! let Thy dwelling be
In this poor heart that pants, my Lord, for Thee!
                                                      Gerhard Tersteegen.

Sunday, April 12, 2020

Christ Rose By His Own Power

       He rose in the night; no hand at the door, no voice in his ear, no rough touch awaking him. Other watchers than Pilate's soldiers stood by the sepulchre; but those angels whom it well became to keep guard at this dead man's chamber door, beyond opening it, beyond rolling away the stone, beyond looking on with wondering eyes, took no part in the scenes of that eventful morning. The hour sounds; the appointed time arrives. Having slept out his sleep, Jesus stirs; he awakes of his own accord he rises by his own power; and arranging, or leaving attending angels to arrange, the linen clothes, he walks out on the dewy ground, beneath the starry sky, to turn grief into the greatest joy, and hail the breaking of the brightest morn that ever rose on this guilty world. That open empty tomb assures us of a day when ours too shall be as empty. Having raised himself, he has power to raise his people, panic-stricken soldiers flying the scene, and Mary rising from his blessed feet to hasten to the city, to rush through the streets, to burst in among the disciples, and with a voice of joy to cry, He is risen, He is risen! prove this is no vain brag or boast, "I lay down my life that I might take it again. No man taketh it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have the power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again." Rev. Dr. Guthrie.

Chris Tomlin "Jesus"

What Is Death?
"What is the soul? The seminal principle from the loins of destiny,
This world is the womb: the body, its enveloping membrane:
The bitterness of dissolution, dame Fortune's pangs of childbirth.
What is death? To be born again, an angel of eternity."
                                                                                Buzurgi. (The Persian Poet.)

Tuesday, February 19, 2019

The Ascension of Christ

       He last interview he had with them was in Jerusalem; and he took the little band of believers out of the city, down through the Eastern Gate, down through the valley of Jehosaphat, over the brook Kedron, past that garden where he sweated drops of blood, past Calvary, over the brow of the hill, and went out past Bethany, where Martha and Mary and Lazarus (the resurrected man) lived; and perhaps right there, under a cluster of little olive trees, he met his disciples for the last time to bid them farewell, and gave them his parting message. Now He says: "I go home; I go back to the throne; (He had been out of the grave forty days); now I ascend to God." And while he was blessing them - for you know he came blessing, the first thing he said on that memorable mountain when he preached that wonderful sermon (there were nine blessings right out of his heart, he could not go on until he got them out): "Blessed are the poor;" "Blessed are the peacemakers;" Blessed, blessed; and he recited those wondrous things and blessed them. And while he was blessing them he began to ascend; and he rose higher and higher; and his voice grew fainter and fainter, and at last it died away in the clouds; and the clouds received him out of their sight.
"We love because He first loved us."
1 John 4:19. Free clip art here.
       I can imagine up in the clouds there was a chariot from the throne, to take him back home; his work was finished; he rides like Elijah in that golden chariot, and sweeps away through the heavens to the throne. Look at Him on his way to that world where all honor him, and all love him! And as he went sweeping upon his way home, he did not forget his little church; he could see them, but they could not see him; and I can see Peter and John looking up, in hopes that there will be a break in the clouds so that they may see him once more. And while they stand there, gazing up into heaven, you can see tears trickling down their cheeks, their hearts have almost gone out of their body; and he looks back and sees them; and he says to two of the angels who were conveying him home, "Go back, and tell those men that I will come back again." I don't know but they were the two, Mary saw in the sepulchre; and they said:
       "Ye men of Gallilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? This same Jesus which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven." Thank God he is coming back! It is only a question of time. And in such a day and hour as we think not, he will rend the heavens and come back. Lift up your hearts, for the time of your redemption draweth near. "We don't worship a dead Savior! He has passed through the heavens, gone up on high, led captivity captive and taken his seat at the right hand of God.
       Paul saw him, and Stephen saw him, standing at the right hand of God. He is there, my friends. Thanks be to God, he is not here. They laid him in Joseph's sepulchre; he is risen and up yonder. D. L. Moody
Of gold, and gems, and jewels rare,
Earth hides a countless store,
If we may trust the sages
Deep read in nature's lore;
And many a pearl lies buried
In ocean's shining caves,
But sacred treasures sleep within
Our pleasant hill of graves.

Saturday, January 5, 2019

The Resurrection Illustrated

His Is Risen!
He Is Risen Indeed!
       So it is that out of these elementary particles human bodies are built, and out of nature's storehouse God will in some way reinvest the spirit with a material organism. We can well believe that this is possible in the light of what chemistry can do. There are many things which the chemist can do which we would not believe to be possible did we not know them to be facts. I think it is Dr. Brown who quotes from Mr. Hallet the story of a gentleman who was something of a chemist, who had given a faithful servant a silver cup. The servant dropped the cup in a vessel of what he supposed to be pure water, but which in reality was aqua fortis. He let it lie there, not thinking it could receive any harm, but, returning some time after, saw the cup gradually dissolving. He was loudly bewailing his loss when he was told that his master could restore the cup for him. He could not believe it. "Do you not see," he said' "that it is dissolving before our sight?" But at last the master was brought to the spot. He called for some salt water, which he poured into the vessel, and told the servant to watch. By and by the silver cup began to gather as a white powder at the bottom. When the deposit was complete the master said to the servant, "Pour off the liquid, gather up this dust, have it melted and run together, then take it to the workman and let him hammer the cup again." You may take gold; you may file it down to a powder, mix it with other metals, throw it into the fire, do what you will with it, and the chemist will bring back with certainty the exact gold.
       Thus our bodies are built up by fruits from the tropics, by grain from the prairies. The flesh that roamed the plains as cattle has become part of us. If God can build up human bodies here, can He not find and convert the dust that we put away in the grave, and bring it back to forms of life? In my judgment, God is able to preserve even the particles of the human body and restore them. So far as the power is concerned, it can be done, and will be done, as God may think best. H. W. Thomas, D. D.
In the third watch, alert and brave;
O, joy, the King to see;
To mark His anxious, scanning look,
Light up, beholding me!
The long watch past; the sobbing fight
Ended; the victory won;
And, O, for me, His words of praise;
"Servant of God, well done!"

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

The Eternal Life Indescribable

       I have often thought if I could only tell or picture eternal life I would have but one sermon and I would tell it out. I would go to civilized nations and I would go to heathen nations and I would tell it out But I can't do it. I have tried many a time to describe what it is, but I don't know somehow or another it seems as if my tongue was tied; it seems to me if I could only picture what the gift of God, what eternal life is, that the people would come to God this morning - that men, women and children would flock into the kingdom by hundreds, if I could only picture what it is. There is nothing we value in this world as we do life. A man will go around the world to lengthen out his life a few years. If he has got wealth he will give money by thousands if he can get medical aid. But this is a world that is filled with sorrow and separation. As I look over this audience I see the emblems of mourning all through the congregation. Not a circle that has not been broken - and many a dear circle has been broken since I stood on this platform last. Death is constantly coming in and taking away this one and that one, and in many you see here and there the natural force is becoming abated and they are tending towards the grave. In a little while they know they must go down to the grave. And so we think life is very sweet here; but just think of the life in the world where there is no stooping form, no gray hair, where the natural force never becomes abated, where the eye never grows dim, where the step is firm and moves on and on through the palaces of the King, where perpetual youth stands on your brow forever, a city where death never enters and sin never comes, a city where all is bright and joyful, a city without a night in it a city without pain, without sorrow, and without death. Think of it! Not only that, but a city where we shall be with the King himself, and be in His presence. Yea, better still, where these vile bodies shall be found like His own glorious body and shall reign with Him forever! That is eternal life. Why, what are your bonds and stocks when you get to looking at eternal life ? Why do you want to go on the Board of Trade and make a few thousands or a few millions? "What is that? Think of life forever; a life that is as pure as God's life, that floats on and on unceasingly through joys that last forever. The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life. You may have it this morning. Come, friends, will you seek him? If you will take my advice you will not go out of this house this morning without seeking eternal life - without making up your mind that you will seek it. - D. L. Moody

Lincoln Brewster sings "God Of The Impossible"

Let me grow by sun and shower,
Every moment water me;
Make me really hour by hour
More and more conformed to Thee,
That Thy loving eye may trace,
Day by day, my growth in grace. 
H. R. Havergal.

Friday, March 30, 2018

The Easter Message

THE EASTER MESSAGE
BY CHARLES E. HESSELGRAVE

       Less than a century ago there were growing up in some of the cultured Christian homes of New England many children who later realized with regret that during their childhood days they had never known the symbolism or ever heard the name of Easter. Yet no more significant, spontaneous, or universally attractive festival has ever been instituted than that which celebrates the return of spring, the budding of leaves and flowers, and the triumphant hope that eternally beckons forward the human race.
"See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone."
Song of Solomon 2:11
       Older than Christianity and deeply rooted in the love of life itself, the spirit of Easter finds its most perfect expression in the Resurrection story of Jesus, There is, indeed, good cheer in the sight of flowers lifting their faces once more toward the sunlight, after the frosts and storms of winter have spent their force. The swelling seeds and changing tints of green give promise of the coming harvests and assure us of nature's ready response to our physical needs. The songs of the birds and the humming of the bees remind us of the rising tide of life that surrounds us and through countless channels is rushing onward with the pulse beat of recurring years. In all this stir of creative energy, this bursting of winter's fetters and the renewal of life's struggle for undisputed supremacy, we feel a kindling interest and secret joy, which carry us outside the old limitations and broaden the horizons of our purposes and hopes.
       But did the springtime come and go with no other message of inspiration, the world of mankind would grow old and weary and discouraged with its toil and disappointment, its wasting wars and ceaseless oppressions, its heroic attempts and saddening failures, and the oft recurring sight of its shining ideals cast to the earth and trampled upon by the gross feet of selfishness and indifference. Humanity knows but too well its own weakness and defects. Memory as well as science reminds us that one spring is like another, that man's life too is but a coming and a going, as the budding spring bursts into summer and comes at last to rest beneath winter's snow. But Easter adds the everlasting crown to man's hope and inspiration in the Resurrection story. Therein we pass from intimations of nature into the realm of human struggle and aspiration where the organizing forces of life surge to and fro with tragic consequence and man more often questions the worth of the final result.
       Back to the Gospel source go those whose faith in human possibilities and courage for unmeasured tasks must needs be renewed in some lifegiving stream. Not only in the buds and blossoms may we see the victory of life, but also in the story of Calvary and the Garden, where we find goodness and righteousness eternally triumphant over villainy and injustice, non-resistence over aggression, humility over pride, holiness over sin, love over hate. We are assured that though evil may hold the reins for a season, dominion and power belong ultimately to justice and right. However complete may be the temporary defeat of truth, error shall not always abide.
       Easter proclaims that man shall overcome all his foes, including death itself. His pathway may lead him through the sorrows of Gethsemane, the pain and darkness of Calvary, nevertheless his winter of distress will yet turn to the spring of delight, defeat will be forgotten in the joy of final victory, and the life of the spirit will rise in glory from the shadows of the grave.
The Soul Does Not Sleep.
       I cannot agree with some people, that Paul has been sleeping in the grave, and is still there, after the storms of eighteen hundred years. I cannot believe that he who loved the Master, who had such a burning zeal for Him, has been separated from Him in an unconscious state, "Father, I will that they also, whom Thou hast given me, be with me where I am; that they may behold my glory, which Thou has given me." This is Christ's prayer. Moody

Sunday, February 18, 2018

The poor and anxious, plod their dreary ways...

       "Poor, anxious, over thoughtful man ! He plods his dreary way - bowed down with earthly care - borrowing sorrow from the days to come - forgetful of the Heavenly Provider.
       Sweet flowers! Do you breathe of hope to his dim faith - whisper to his sinking heart of Him who so clothes the grass of the fields from day to day. Wherefore taketh he thought for the morrow? His Father knoweth his need. He will provide out of His own rich fullness. He will lift the shadow of care that smothers him like a pall. Oh! that he would but consider the Lilies!
       Has all pleasure faded out of your life? Do the clouds of disappointment shroud your sky? It is  better for you to die than to live, think you? Nay - consider the Lilies, with which God so clothes the grass of the fields. Life is not all a barren waste. Ah! through blinding tears, you can see no loveliness; but it is there - all around you still. Let your gracious Father wipe the tears away, that you may see clearly. He waits to be gracious - to do all you need - to comfort you, exceeding abundantly above all you can ask or think, for His own good pleasure. He giveth not according to desert; He measureth not His gifts by desire; out of His own rich fullness in Christ the Lord, He bestoweth to the full measure of the need, heaped up and running over - He giveth without measure, to the sons of His love in Jesus. If His face be hid for a moment, His kindness is everlasting. Ah! would you but consider the Lilies, and turn to Him for comfort and consolation!" A. Buchanan.



 "Consider the lilies...

Our Burial Places Sacred.
       How we linger around the cold remains of a friend till absolutely driven from it! How we care for it, as for some precious gem not always to be trodden in the dust! How reverently we commit it to the keeping of its mother earth; bidding it good night as if in attendance on the councils of royalty!
       How sacred is the spot where he lies! How often do we retire not alone to weep but to hold sweet communion with the departed, and say, "We shall meet again." - Rev. McClelland, D. D.

Friday, January 5, 2018

While It Is Yet Still Dark...

       Amid the confusion of the early records which tell about the great event which Easter celebrates one thing stands out very clear. No human eye saw the resurrection of Jesus or watched the inscrutable process. The Christian witnesses bore testimony only to the accomplished fact. The change from death to life culminated in the obscurity of the tomb. " While it was yet dark," there came, according to the most philosophical of the Gospels, anxious watchers who found the transformation already complete and the tomb empty. The darkness which shrouded the event is paralleled by the confusion and uncertainty of the conflicting testimony that has reached us. In fact the whole course of Christian beginnings lies shrouded in the mystery of indefiniteness and the shadows of the unknown.
       But all great beginnings are thus conditioned and surrounded. Man becomes conscious of the result long after the causes have apparently ceased to operate. He sees the product after the early stages of the process have receded into the dim past. Only the scantiest remains mark the pathway of early developments, and the highest intelligence is necessary to descry the scraps of evidence and by comparison and imagination reconstruct the methods and movements of these living forces.
       Nestled in the darkness of mother earth the seed takes on the new life which is first observed springing in vigor from the soil. Out of the mothering womb of time has come forth the human race through its various stages, progressing through barbarism, primitive civilization, and the historic era.
"Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark..."
Empty Tomb drawing from Christian Clip Art Review.
       Since man began to think upon the past he has evolved unnumbered theories of his beginning, and still to the most instructed the early stages in each onward course of development must be approached through a twilight that ends in darkness. The rude beginnings of his culture are buried beneath the rubbish heaps of time. The institutions of religion, home and government we know only in their higher forms. Language, art and thought can be studied in their monuments alone. The keenest and most critical investigations have only partially revealed the successive steps of Hebraism and the founding of Christianity. Those centuries in which directive forces were forming the incipient movements which have culminated in what we call western civilization are often termed the Dark Ages. On the whole we must conclude that the great forces operating in society and in life conceal their most significant phases, those phases which carry the greatest import for the future, from the contemporary eyes of men. We cannot " look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not." While it is yet dark the great movements of the future are being planned and the first steps toward the realization of the plans are being taken.
       Around us at this Easter time the darkness and confusion of human affairs are almost beyond parallel. A crisis in history has, no doubt, been reached. We seem to see not only the disruption of international and national life, but the clashing ideals of races, the spread and deepening of hatred and strife, the failure of human capacity for organization to hold in check the elemental passions and aspirations of mankind, and even the breakdown of Christianity itself.
       Nevertheless, the seeds of a new and grander future have doubtless been already sown. The ways of nature and human development lead us to expect that this is so. Life is positive, death is negative. The breakup and sloughing off of the old and outworn may appear as the darkness of dissolution, but the stirrings of a new life to result in a higher order are scarcely to be apprehended until the growth directed by the Unseen Mind has brought some reorganization out of the old chaos." Out of the cradle endlessly rocking " come the strength and wisdom that shape and advance the world's destinies. The patient, brooding spirit of man, inspired by hope and faith in the Divine Order, will yet bring to power and dominion the living principles of international brotherhood and service now obscured in the bitterness and darkness of war and racial strife. Future generations will surely say: "While it was yet dark" we discerned the birth throes of a new world order. by Charles E. Hesselgrave
I loved them so,
That when the Elder Shepherd of the fold
Came, covered with the storm, and pale and cold,
And begged for one of my sweet lambs to hold.
I bad Him go.

He claimed the pet-
A little fondling thing, that to my breast
Clung always, either in quiet or unrest-
I thought of all my lambs I loved him best,
And yet- and yet-

I laid him down
In those white, shrouded arms, with bitter tears;
For some voice told me that, in after years,
He should know naught of passion, grief or fears,
As I had known.

Monday, April 10, 2017

The Valley of Life

THE VALLEY OF LIFE 
by Richard Watson Gilder

       When I was a child joyfully I ran, hand claspt in hand, now with my mother, now with my father, or with younger, blithe companions, now in sunlight, now in shadow and dread, through the strange new Valley of Life.
       Sometimes on the high-road, then over the fields and meadows, or through the solemn forests; sometimes along the happy brook-side, listening to its music or the clamor of the falls, as the pleasant waters hurried or grew still, in the winding way down the Valley of Life.
       And as we moved along, hand claspt in hand, sometimes the handclasp was broken, and I, a happy child, ran swiftly from the path to gather flower or fruit or get sight of a singing bird; or to lean down and pluck a pearly stone from under the lapping waves; or climbed a tree and swayed, shouting, on its waving boughs - then returning to the clasp of loving hands, and so passing on and on down the opening Valley of Life.
       In the bright morning I walked wondering, wondering I walked through the still twilight and many-colored sunset; watching the great stars gather, and lost in the mystery of worlds beyond number, and spaces beyond thought, till, side by side, we lay down to sleep under the stars in the Valley of Life and of Dreams.
       Then there came a time when the hands that held me, - the loving hands that guided my steps and drew me gently on, - turned cold, and slipt from my grasp; I waited, but they came not back, and slowly and alone I plodded on down the Valley of Life and of Death.
       "Where went they?" I asked my heart and the whispering waters and the sighing trees. "Where went my loving and well-beloved guides? Did they climb the hills and tarry; did they, tired, lie down to sleep and forget me forever; leaving me to journey on without their dear care down the Long Valley of Life?"
       I could not know, for I heard no answer except my own heart's beating. But other comrades came, -  one dearer than all, -  and as time went on I felt the little hands of my own children clasping mine while, once more happy and elate, with them I traveled down the miraculous Valley of Life.
       But, as on we wander, hearing their bright voices, and seeing their joy upon the way, - their happy chasings here and there, their eager run to hold again our hands, - how soon, I think, shall I feel the slipping away of the clasping fingers while I fall asleep by the wayside, or climb the cloud-enveloped hills, and leave those I love to journey on down the lonely Valley of Life!
       And I say: "Surely the day and the hour hasten; grief will be theirs for a season: then will they, as did I, with brave hearts journey on the appointed way." 

 Oya sings, "Peace In The Valley"

Dr. Lowell Mason.
       That sweet singer and musical composer, who has done so much for popular American church music, Dr. Lowell Mason, died but a short time since, at an advanced age. Long years ago he had buried his first-born, a lovely boy, named Daniel. About his dying bed friends gathered to watch the ebbing out of life. He had taken his final farewell of the loved ones he was leaving behind. The spirit was still hovering on the confines of the body. Suddenly he opened his eyes. He looked upward with an earnest, intent look. "Daniel, may I come?" he said. And then with a smile of recognition, he added: "Let me come!" And he went. Father and son were once more together. Bishop Fallows

Friday, April 7, 2017

Easter a Day of Spiritual Joy

      Easter should be a day of spiritual joy, a day for celebration of the resurrection of spirit, a day in which spiritual considerations should be more prominent. Any secular or civil activities that interfere with pure spiritual observance of that day should be discouraged. Jesus Christ announced the important truth that the glory of his resurrection was the fruit of his Passion--I mean the accidental glory incident to his humanity, not the essential glory inherent in his divinity. While two of his disciples were going from Jerusalem to Emmaus, discoursing in the crucifixion, Jesus, in the guise of a stranger, joined them, and they said to him: "We had hoped that Christ would redeem Israel from gentile bondage and would reestablish the kingdom of a grander scale and rule as a conqueror. But our hopes are shaken, for he died a shameful death on the cross." And Jesus said to them: "Foolish and slow of heart to believe in all things which the prophets have spoken. Ought not Christ to have suffered these things and so enter into his glory?" If he had not trod the path of suffering and humiliation he would not be the Messiah foretold by the prophets. Cardinal Gibbons

"The Emmaus Road" by Steve Green

Heaven - Not Far Away.
Oh, heaven is nearer than mortal's think,
When they look with trembling dread,
At the misty future that stretches on,
From the silent home of the dead.

The eye that shuts in a dying hour,
Will open the next in bliss,
The welcome will sound in the heavenly world
Ere the farewell is hushed in this.

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends,
To the arms of the loved and lost;
And those smiling faces will greet us there,
Which on earth we have valued most.

Yet oft in the hours of holy thought,
To the thirsting soul is given,
That power to pierce through the mist of sense,
To the beauteous scenes of heaven.

I know when the silver cord is loosed,
When the vail is rent away,
Not long and dark shall the passage be,
To the realm of endless day.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

In Jesus's Grave Lie Man's Sins

       The story of Peter is not the most beautiful of the tales that gather about the Man of Galilee, but it is the most precious, for it is a story of a man who fell, but rose again.
       Those three nights and two days glared in Peter's mind through his after years as one hideous dream; that calm Figure, majestic, in spite of the bonds; the rabble crew about the fire; and then that girl's face, Hashing out the challenge that struck him with terror, so that ere he knew, he had stammered out his denial. But clearer than all remained that look of pain and love that pierced him to the heart and drove him forth into the night.
       But neither shame nor fear could hold him in his hiding while his Lord was being done to death; so through the day he followed the crowd, safe hidden, and watched for that display of power that would set him free; watched in vain.
       He followed to Calvary. From behind the rocks he watched the horrid scene. In his own hands he felt the drive of the nails, upon his own brow the tearing thorns, and in his own side the spear thrust to the heart- felt, but dared not utter his cry.
       Then, what place in all the world was left for the man who has dishonored his name, broken his faith, denied his Lord? The city? It is overflowing with the jubilant slayers of his Master. The upper room? There is no place for a traitor in that band. Outside the city wall where they cast their refuse, out to Gehenna, on that rugged ridge, illumined by the baleful fires that never sleep, Peter spends his weary night. Suddenly through the grey light he sees a figure flying as if pursued by demons. The hunted man flings a rope round over the bough of a tree, trembling hands adjust it about his neck, then hurls himself headlong, down upon the rocks below. "Poor Judas! You waited for no look of piercing love when you went forth into the night."A new terror shakes Peter's soul, and drives him to the upper room. With relentless self-abasement, he told them his sin and shame, ending, "And on me cursing he cast a look as if he loved me still." With humble compassion they took him to their hearts, too conscious of the coward in themselves to be hard with the man who had denied and suffered. And then through the morning light sounded the sacred trumpets from the temple announcing that the Great Feast Day was upon them, while their Lord, the Son of God, lay dead in Joseph's tomb.
       Night falls. The last glad trumpet note has ceased, the sounds of the street die down. The men doze off into horrid dreams, but the women do not sleep, they steal down the stairs. It is for them to anoint and garb that precious body for its final rest. Peter waits behind, and over the sad hours of the past days and nights his heart makes weary pilgrimage.
       But hark! There is a sound of running feet! The door bursts open, and the women fling forth their news, their glorious, unbelievable news. The tomb is empty! He is alive!
       "God of Abraham! God of the living, can it be?"
       Peter is down the stairs and up the street, running hard, after him, John.
       But they may save their breath. The tomb is empty, rifled of its dead. Greatly wondering, they return to their company. It is after all only a silly woman's tale.
       But upon them, the door opens again. It is the Magdalene, calm and controlled, but with eyes and face aglow with exultant glory. "He is alive! I have seen him with these eyes! I have held him by the feet! He knew me! He called me by my name! And he gave me a message to you, Peter."
       "No, no, not to me. Not to me."
       "Yes, he said distinctly, 'Tell Peter'‚" and she gives her message. 
       But Peter is gone to find his Lord. With one swift leap, his heart has passed from despair to faith.
        Out of the city gate, but not to Calvary, not to the tomb. Out to the old trysting spot on Olivet, up to the garden where they were wont to meet.
      "Oh, to see him once again, to tell him of my love." His sobs grow quiet, and he becomes aware of a Presence.
       Was it a moment, or was it an hour? Peter never knew; but when he came to himself he was on his way back to the city. They who met him wondered at his face. "I have seen him," he said, "and HE IS JUST THE SAME!"
       Tell the world that Jesus is the same.
       Tell the sick of the world he is the same; his sympathy as quick, his help as ready as of old.
       Tell the outcast he is the same; his fine chivalry making him their champion as before. 
       Tell those who mourn their dead he is just the same; his word as
mighty to revive.
       Tell the whole world, burdened with sin and sorrow, that Jesus, through the glorious risen Lord, is the same; as much a man as ever, as strong and tender as when he walked with the joyous crowds by the sunny waters of Galilee. JESUS IS THE SAME. 
       "He is the same" mused Peter to his friend, "and yet, he is not the same."
       "Said he nought to you of your ------?"
       "Of my sin? Nay, one word only, as I poured it forth, 'Speak no longer of your sin; it lies buried in my tomb' Then it was he spake most like a King, as if he had won the right to bestow his pardon where he would."
       Came a day when they led Peter forth to meet his doom. And when they would have laid him on his Cross, he spoke, "Suffer my head to lie where lay his feet." And so they crucified him, unafraid, for he knew that through Jesus's grave lay the path to life and that in Jesus's grave lie man's sins. by Ralph Connor


"Praise You Just The Same" 

"I recorded this song for my first album ' He Hears Me'. Kevin Hunt on piano. It always lifts me after a tough day or if I'm going thru a hard season. The pictures are dedicated to the raw beauty of Scotland." Deborah Dicembre

Threescore and ten, by common calculation,
The years of man amount to-but we'll say
He turns forescore; yet in my estimation,
In all those years he has not lived a day,
                                                                   J. R. Planche.

Saturday, April 12, 2014

Every Praise, Every Word of Worship is To Our God!


Published on Oct 17, 2013
Hezekiah Walker New Video "Every Praise"

      Something happened two thousand and 40 years ago in the gray light of the first Easter morning which transformed and transfigured the face of the earth. History began again. The world's heart beat with new and gladder thrill. Henceforth and forever, beneath the all-beholding sun, there is nothing which is "too good to be true." It has not entered into the heart of man to conceive a good which is better than the reality of things. But we are afraid of imagination. It is a vain thing, and must be yoked to a servile mass of matter lest it soar upward and outward, into the blue sky, above the mountain tops, toward the glorious sun, and lose itself in the eternal truth of God!
      O brother-man or sister-woman, are you afraid of your own prayers? He is God. He is the Father-God, the Mother-God, the God of the buttercups and daisies, of sunshine and spring, the God who cares for the sparrows and clothes the lilies, who spreads out the heavens as a curtain and calls all the stars by name, who longs for you as the child of his heart, and loves you with an everlasting love, so that sin and death cannot separate you from the might of His affection nor quench His hope in you. Morning light shames our midnight fears. And the shame is that in the darkness you were not sure of the coming dawn. You ought to have known that after midnight comes the morning; in the blackest night of the year you ought to have kept God's sunshine in your soul. Angels have rolled the stone away from the grave of your ascending Lord. Clouds turn to solid rock beneath your feet. And Christ is risen indeed. --Rev. C. F. Aked

       "When John Holland died, it was about five or six in the evening, the shadow of night was gathering around, and it was growing darker and darker. When near the last moment he looked up, and said to the family: "What is this? What is this strange light in the room? Have they lighted the candles, Martha?" "No," she said. He replied; "Then it must be heaven. Welcome, heaven." Talmage

Saturday, August 3, 2013

God Has Made A Way

 
      The future will clear up many a mystery. A few months ago I went into the house of one of the leading merchants, whose beloved daughter had been brought home dead from being run down in the public street. The first word was, "Tell me now why God took away that girl." Said I, "My brother, I have not come here to interpret God's mysteries. I have come here to lead you closer to God's heart. Be still, and know that He who gave takes away. She already knoweth why she is yonder; wait till God clears away the cloud, and thou wait find that even this was right and well." Do you not remember how the prophet of old once had his eye touched at Dothan, and he beheld the mountains round about him filled with chariots and horsemen? When you and I work in some great cause of reform, and we have met with defiance and discouragement - why, if God were to open the eyes of our faith, and we could see the battle-field as He does we would find all round about us a great army of God's promises, assuring us of inevitable victory - nothing to do with chariots and horsemen, but simply to stand our ground and fight out the battle, and trust that he will finally clear away the cloud, and the light of His glory shall shine on the banners of truth borne over the field; for by and by shall come the last great day of revelation, when nothing that is right shall be found to have been vanquished, and nothing that is wrong shall be found to have triumphed. - Rev. Theo. L. Cuyler, D. D. 

Jesus, my only hope Thou art!
Strength of my failing flesh and heart;
Oh, could I catch a smile from Thee,
And drop into eternity.

Mr. Moody relates the following incident: During the late war a young man lay on a cot, and they heard him say, "Here, and some one went to his cot and wanted to know what he wanted, and he said, "Hark! hush! don't you hear them?" "Hear who?" was asked. "They are calling the roll of heaven," he said, and pretty soon he answered, "Here!" -and he was gone.