Nature And Man

       Come  with  me  to  the  Yosemite   Valley;  yonder  stands  El  Capitan - the   atmosphere  so  clear,  it  seems   as   though  you  might  strike it  with  a  stone.     Approach  nearer;  how  it   looms   up;  how  it  grows and  widens;  how  grand!     See  yonder   those  shrubs  in  the  crevice - shrubs?     They  are  trees,  a  hundred  feet  in  height,  three  feet  and more  in  diameter.     Do   you   see  that   bend  in  the  face  of  the  rock? That  is  a  fissure,  75  feet  wide.     Nearer  yet,  still  nearer.     It  seems  as if  you  might  touch  it  now  with  your  finger.      Stand  still  under  the shadow  of  El  Capitan.     A   plumb   line  from   the  summit  falls  fifty feet  from  the  base.     Now  look  up,  up,  up,  3,600  feet - two-thirds  of a  mile ‚Äî right  up.     How  grand  and  sublime!    Your  lips  quiver,  your nerves  thrill,  your  eyes  fill  with  tears,  and  you  understand   in  some degree  your  own  littleness.     "The  inhabitants  of  the  earth  are  but as  grasshoppers."     How  small  I  am!     I  could  not  climb  up  fifty  feet on  the  face  of  that  rock,  and  there  it   towers  above  me.      Yonder  is the  great  South  Dome,  rising  sheer  up  6,000  feet - more  than  a  mile, seamed  and  seared  by  the  storms  of  ages,  but  anchored  in  the  valley beneath.     There  are  the  Three  Brothers,   there   the   Cathedral  rocks and  spires,  there  the  Sentinel  Dome   and   the  Sentinel  Rock.     How magnificent!      See   yonder   the   wonderful   Yosemite  Falls  leaping through  a  gorge  eighteen  feet  before  it  strikes,  coming  down  like  sky-rockets, exploding  as  they  fall;  striking,  it  leaps  400  feet,  and  again it  leaps  600  feet.   More  than  half  a  mile the  water  pours  over.   What a  dash,  what  a  magnificent  anthem  ascending  to  the  great  Creator! Now  look  around  you  in  every  direction,  and  you  feel  the  littleness  of man.  Oh!  I  am  but  as  the  dust  in  the  balance,  but  as  the  small  dust in  the  balance;  but  God  created  man  in  His  own  image,  and  breathed into  his  nostrils  the  breath  of  life,  and  made  him - not  gave  him - but  made  him  a  living  soul;  therefore  I  am  a  man,  a  living  man,  but  that is  a  dead  rock.  I  am  a  living  man.  The  elements  shall  melt  with fervent  heat,  the  world  be  removed  like  a  cottage,  the  milky  way  shall shut  its  two  awful  arms  and  hush  its  dumb  prayer  forever,  but  I  shall live,  for  I  am  a  man  with  the  fire  of  God  in  me  and  a  spark  of  immortality that  will  never  go  out.  The  universe,  grand  and  magnificent and  sublime  as  it  is,  is  but  the  nursery  to  man's  infant  soul,  and  the child  is  worth  more  than  the  nursery;  therefore,  I,  a  living,  breathing, thinking,  hoping  man,  with  a  reason  capable  of  understanding,  in some  degree,  the  greatness  of  the  Almighty,  a  mind  capable  of  eternal development,  and  a  heart  capable  of  loving  Him,  am  worth  more than  all  God's  material  universe,  for  I  am  a man  with  a  destiny  before me  as  high  as  heaven  and  as  vast  as  eternity. John B. Gough.

(Yosemite National Park and Hymn by RadiantTV)

With  other  ministrations  thou,  O  Nature!
Healest  thy  wandering  and  distempered  child:
Thou  pourest  on  him  thy  soft  influences,
Thy  sunny  hues,  fair  forms,  and  breathing  sweets, -
Thy  melodies  of  woods,  and  winds,  and  waters
Till  he  relent,  and  can  no  more  endure
To  be  a  jarring  and  a  dissonant  thing
Amid  this  general  dance  and  minstrelsy;
But,  bursting  into  tears,  wins  back  his  way,
His  angry  spirit  healed  and  harmonized
By  the  benignant  touch  of  love  and  beauty.

by Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge.

The Figure of Christ

Monsignor Bonomelli, in a letter read at the World Missionary Conference held in Edinburgh, June, 1910, said:

       Jesus has, in reality, not vanished either from history, or from the life of Christianity. He lives at all times in millions of souls. He is enthroned as King in all hearts. The figure of Christ has not the cold splendor of a distant star, but the warmth of a heart which is near us, a flame burning in the soul of believers and keeping alive their con- sciences. Putting aside certain opinions, which, honored at the moment, may possibly be abandoned to-morrow, criticism had hoped to effect a complete demolition of the conception of Christ, but what criticism really demolished was merely irrelevant matter. The figure of Christ, after all the onslaughts of criticism, now stands forth more pure and divine than ever and compels our adoration. 

• Christ Lives In Me by George Toews
• Christ Lives In Me
• What Is Love?

 Rend Collective - Christ Lives In Me (Audio)

The Poverty Which Maketh Many Rich

       We sometimes come across passages in the Bible with statements that are antithetical and which seem really to contradict one another. One of these is found in 2 Cor. 6, 10: “As poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things.” “How shall we explain this?” How can such a thing be possible?” you ask. Well, let us look into the matter a little. Let us take our dear Savior as an illustration. Surely, He could be said to be poor during His state of humiliation here on earth! His first days on earth were spent in a manger, for there was not room for Him — as it seemed, on account of His poverty — in the inn. Even after having taken up His Messianic calling, this poverty pursued Him. When, for instance, the representatives of the government asked of Him the tribute-money, the common treasury of Jesus and the little group of disciples was found to be empty, so that Peter must needs be sent to procure the necessary coin through a miracle that Jesus wrought. At another instance, Jesus Himself said: “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no where to lay His head.”
      Yes, He was poor, and yet, did He not make many rich? Could we have asked the hungering multitude in the wilderness after they had filled, and the twelve basketfuls had been gathered of pieces left over from five loaves and two fishes; or the frightened disciples on the Sea of Galilee, whose lives had been saved by the stilling of the tempest; the widow of Nain, whose only son, having been dead, was returned to her living; Lazarus and his sisters after the former had been called forth out of the tomb, — their answer would surely have been in the affirmative. Again, the woman taken in sin to whom Jesus said: “Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more;” the malefactor on the cross receiving the forgiveness of his sins and the assurance of a place with Christ and Paradise– in short, the multitude of weary and with sin heavy-laden souls, to each of whom Jesus spoke words of hope, of peace, of joy, saying: “Be of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee,” — could we have asked all these, they would surely have answered that Jesus had, in truth, made them “rich;” that there are no riches to be compared with those that we receive from Him, “who, though immeasurably rich, was made poor for our sakes.”

       But how shall we, who are poor, make many rich? By becoming truly “poor in spirit,” by realizing that we have, indeed, nothing in ourselves. When we have come to that point, realizing that we are poor and helpless, yea, destitute in ourselves, then the Lord can fill our hearts with “riches” that know no measure, with treasures that fade not away, “that neither moth nor rust can corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal.” From such a storehouse of real treasures we are then enabled, through the grace of God, to “make many rich.” Sermon by Rev. Carl J. Segerhammer.

"Treasures of Heaven" by the Oasis Chorale

Faith Taught by Nature

       Faith bids us be of good cheer. Long ago, that old Greek studied the mental operations of a bee, with brain not as large as a pin-head. Here is a little bee, that organizes a city, that builds ten thousand cells for honey, twelve thousand cells for larvae, a holy of holies for the mother queen; a little bee that observes the increasing heat and when the wax may melt and the honey be lost, organizes the swarm into squads, puts sentinels at the entrances, glues the feet down, and then with flying wings, creates a system of ventilation to cool the honey, that makes an electric fan seem tawdry– a little honey-bee that will include twenty square miles in the field over whose flowers it has oversight. But if a tiny brain in a bee performs such wonders providential, who are you, that you should question the guidance of God? Lift up your eyes, and behold the hand that supports these stars, without pillars, the God who guides the planets without collision. Away with fear! -N. D. Hillis.

Music and words by Jon Althoff and Nathan Stiff.

Heaven A Locality

Outer space

       I am at a loss to understand why there should be difficulty in receiving the idea of heaven a locality - a fact of materiality, within the domain of physics, equally positive with the existence of Jupiter or Saturn, Venus or Uranus. The telescope, it is most true, has given wondrous revelations of the magnitude and the magnificence of God's glorious universe; but even that has not been able to reveal the secrets of the milky way, nor to calculate the distances of the nearest of the fixed stars, as the astronomer will tell you. But when we come to think, as is most probably true in fact, that with all the wonders thus laid open to our view - and they are most stupendous - we stand as yet but within the vestibule of God's great temple. Like Newton, we saunter along picking up here and there a pebble from the shore, the great ocean of truth meanwhile lying all unexplored beyond us. I doubt not that, could we but see them, as in prophetic vision, we should behold myriads upon myriads of shining orbs peopling the infinitudes of space, and of which the most accurate of all the sciences has not conceived the most remote idea. Inasmuch, then, as we as yet know nothing in comparison of what yet remains to be revealed to the eye of science, how dare we presume to say that the idea of heaven as a locality is a Utopian figment of the imagination - a mere poetic creation? We have picked up a sand or two from the beach, and say these are all there is of them! We have become slightly acquainted with the wonders of this, our own solar universe, and from that premise attempt the impossible feat of proving a negative, predicating the non-existence of any other!

       Most assuredly, since God has found place for the worlds we do see, He is of might sufficient to the finding of room in the vast depths of space for the heaven or heavens which at present we do not see? Rev. W. H. Cooper, D. D.

"The Only Scars In Heaven" sung by Casting Crowns.

Seizing Opportunity

        A plain wreath of oak leaves was sent through the English consul in Berlin in the hope that it might find a place on Mr Gladstone's coffin. The sender was a Berlin shoemaker who owed his success in business to the "Grand Old Man." About twenty years ago this shoemaker came to London and established a small workshop, but in spite of industry and strict attention to business he continued so poor that he had not even enough money to buy leather for work which had been ordered. One day he was in the whispering gallery in St. Paul's cathedral with his betrothed bride, to whom he confided the sad condition of his affairs, and the impossibility of their marriage. The young girl gave him all her small savings, with which he went next day to purchase the required leather, without, however, knowing that he was followed by a gentleman commissioned to make inquiries about him. The shoemaker was not a little surprised when the leather merchant told him that he was willing to open a small account with him. In this way did fortune begin to smile upon him, and soon, to his great astonishment, he received orders from the wealthiest circle in London society, and his business became so well established that he was able to marry and have a comfortable home of his own. He was known in London for years as the "Parliament Shoemaker," but only when, to please his German wife, he left London for Berlin, did the leather merchant tell him that he owed his " credit account " to none other than Mr. Gladstone. The Prime Minister had been in the whispering gallery when the poor shoemaker had been telling his betrothed of his poverty, and owing to the peculiar acoustics of the gallery had heard every word that had been said. This story suggests not only how Mr. Gladstone's wide-reaching influence was helped by his seizing upon the smallest opportunities to do good, but also that the house of God is always a whispering gallery; and tho no prime minister of earth may hear us as we breathe out our sorrows there, the Prime Minister of heaven will never fail to hear and heed. 

"There Was Jesus." sung by Zach Williams and Dolly Parton

Hardship vicariously borne . . .

       Many, many years ago a fierce war raged in India between the English and Tipu Sahib. On one occasion several English officers were taken prisoners. Among them was one named Baird. One day the native officer brought in fetters to be put upon each of the prisoners, the wounded not excepted. Baird had been severely wounded and was suffering from pain and weakness.

       A gray-haired officer said to the native official, "You do not think of putting chains upon that wounded man?"

       "There are just as many pairs of fetters as there are prisoners," was the answer, "and every pair must be worn."

       "Then," said the noble officer, "put two pairs on me. I will wear his as well as my own." This was done. Strange to say, Baird lived to regain his freedom, and lived to take that city; but his noble, unselfish friend died in prison.

       Up to his death, he wore two pairs of fetters. But what if he had worn the fetters of all the prisoners? What if, instead of being captive himself, he had quitted a glorious palace, to live in their loathsome dungeon, to wear their chains, to bear their stripes, to suffer and die for them, that they might go free, and free forever? Sophie Bronson Titterington

• Christ Died for Our Sins That We Might Die to Sin
• The Wounds of Jesus

Moods of The Spirit

         Pantheism, atheism, agnosticism, materialism, pessimism - how many ugly, dangerous words there are in the dictionary, and how many young people imagine that they have all these spiritual diseases when, as a matter of fact, they are only in the way of normal spiritual development. A person comes to say of certain things that are mysterious, of which he or she thought they knew, "I don't know." Then people label themselves or allows himself or herself to be labeled an "Agnostic." No religious life for them. Another person sees that the great God can not stand apart from His universe, but must be working in it and through it all. They label themselves "Pantheist," or are so labeled. Other people suddenly discovers the abyss of actual wo in the world, the evil that, for the present at least, is without remedy. They are called "Pessimists" And still more people look to the right hand and to the left hand, and for the time do not see God. The final word for them is "Atheist." Now, we can not have a free expression of what people from time to time are actually believing until we get over our fear of all such names. We must have a faith that is wholesome enough and large enough to keep us from being afraid of our own thoughts. The fact is, that we are continually mistaking the passing moods of the spirit for the finalities of thought. These moods  through which we pass have been familiar to the most profoundly religious minds. - Samuel M. Crothers.

 An unidentified writer points out how different moods affect our minds:

When I am tired and weary.
And nothing goes my way.
I thank the heavenly Father
For two nights to every day.

But when, once more, I'm rested.
And all the world looks bright,
I thank Him that He sends me
Two days to every night !

There's the pause before the battle,
There's the respite from the fray ;
And that is how I reckon
Two nights to every day.

When the sunset glow has faded,
In a little while 'tis light!
And that is how I reckon
Two days to every night.

And so 'tis due, believe me,
To the way we look at things,
Whether we sigh and falter
Or whether we soar on wings! 

The World's Peace is Outward Calm

      The world in general regards peace as an end, rather than a means. It conceives peace to be the cessation of war, stoppage of conflict, restoration of law and order. This is desirable, to be sure, but the bitter truth is that real peace is not attainable by mere outward adjustment. Moreover, peace, enduring peace, is not only the ending of one order that has been weighed in the balance and found wanting, it is the beginning of a new and better order in which justice, righteousness and brotherhood are to prevail. Alas! it is only too true that we are all to a greater or lesser degree affected with the worldly idea of peace. We stress outward things, and look for the coming of the Kingdom through exterior processes. The world as yet has failed to make a lasting peace. Time and time again great peace councils have, by the very terms of peace the victor sought to impose, sown the seeds of future wars.

Great Captains with their guns and drums,

Disturb our judgment for the hour.

But at last silence comes,

      Yes, silence comes, and just about the time when sober reflection and careful judgment is replacing the fever and excitement of war, great captains with their guns and drums disturb our judgment again;  disturb it with the roar of cannon and the loosing of the dogs of war upon a helpless society. The world professes to love peace, brotherhood and justice, but conquerors and victors are quick to make sure that the balance of power is on their side, and that armies and navies big enough to keep the peace are in training and ready for action.

      Few of us are free from the opinion that outside favorable conditions are able to produce of themselves inward repose. We think, for instance, that the possession of sufficient wealth to protect us from the annoyances and anxieties attendant on meager incomes and heavy outlays would produce a peace, where now there is only distraction and anxiety. That it might help accomplish this is freely granted, that society as a whole ought to be protected from the fear of poverty as well as the handicap of it is likewise granted. Yet, even so, the most generous provisions, the most ample safeguarding of this kind cannot of itself produce inward calm. There are many living amid physical conditions that are favorable to rest, recreation and wide travel who are inwardly in a constant state of turbulency, turmoil, and strife. Tribulations, however, of one kind or another await the sons of men everywhere, and wait us despite wealth, genius, and even godly living. These tribulations are inescapable, but they are conquerable. Jesus overcame them, and the same power that enabled Him to overcome, He assures us, will enable us to overcome. It is the inner peace that counts. Given the inner peace and the ideals and teachings of Jesus, and the result is a peace such as the world cannot give because the world has it not.

      Why is it that society is slow to accept Christ's peace? Why is it that individuals are prone to turn

 elsewhere for power, only to meet disappointment? Is it because we do not understand the nature of His peace? Possibly. But a better explanation is that we are not willing to receive His peace on the simple terms He offers it. It is not true that the peace of God is given without conditions, even though it be freely given and given to all men. "These things have I spoken that in me you might have peace." Ah, yes, the things spoken in that conversation at the table, we must not forget them. They are all-important, they are fundamental. Summarized, these things are as follows, "Abide in Me." Let "My words abide in you." "Love one another even as I have loved you." "Keep My commandments." "Bear much fruit." "Bear witness." "Ask and ye shall receive." "I have given you an example that you should do as I have done to you." "Be of good cheer." The peace of Jesus Christ is an inward rest, but it is more, it is a way of life in which love, justice, mercy, forgiveness, find radiant demonstration.

      "When he called upon men to follow him, to share his baptism and drink his cup," says W. E. Orchard, "He was not mocking them with impossible ideals. He was asking them to be as he was, to live for the same ends, to undertake the same task. Jesus invited men to his ethical and spiritual level. The blunting of this call by the declaration that Jesus can never be followed by mortal men is responsible for the low state of Christian discipleship."

      Candor compels the admission that the world's idea of peace is still influential in the churches. Here too, the emphasis is largely on outward conformity, the dependence on ecclesiastical and doctrinal regularity. These have been only too often the weapons of Christendom to enforce uniformity and promote appearance of solidarity. The various denominations, after the fashion of nations, have their "war parties," their "jingoes" and "dollar diplomacy." These powerful elements are intent on preserving traditional ideas and time-worn methods, by recourse to sectarian armament and threat of excommunication or brand of heresy and stigma of unorthodoxy. Thus has the cause of Jesus' peace been betrayed oft-times in the house of the Master. Sectarian disarmament must take place among the denominations before the Church can ever have an influential voice and great prestige in the Peace Councils of the world.

Perseverance Conquers or “perseverado vincit!”

"Rock of Ages" sung by Chosen Generation Gospel Choir

       This is an old motto that has stood the test of centuries. “Perseverance conquers.” Yes, to keep pace with the progress that is now going on along every line of activity, requires not a little energy. Nothing short of a struggle is necessary if we are to master the many problems before us as individuals, as a community, as a nation, and also as a church of God. It has been so in the past. Kingdoms and empires were reared, often out of a state of chaos. The Church, also, was harassed and rent by schisms within and vicious attacks from without. Yet it stands to-day firmly resting on its imperishable foundation, the “Rock of Ages,” Jesus Christ. But to weather all these storms, both in church and state, there was need of much perseverance. Indeed, from the beginning to the present day, it has been a case of “Perseverando vincit.”

      Even in our church work here we have need of a great amount of this trait. The fruits of our labors are not so readily forthcoming as we would wish. Some people, in their utter blindness to all that pertians to their moral and spiritual welfare, will, in spite of our best efforts to enlighten them, prefer to spend their time, their money, and in themselves, for instance, “nickelodeons” and other “five-cent” demoralizing institutions, rather than take active part in Christian work. So cheaply do they value their souls!

      Hence, we have need of much perseverance. But let us not forget that in this case, as well as all others, with the help of God, “perseverado vincit!” Sermon by Rev. Carl J. Segerhammer.

Death An Angel of Light

        Are we then immortal? Oh! then, we are "blessed" indeed! Death is not the frightful monster which he is so constantly represented to be; he is an angel of light and mercy, veiling his resplendent glories under the shadowy drapery of the tomb, lest the saints should become so much enamored with his loveliness, as to hasten at once to leave this erring, darkened world, to dwell in his radiant dominion, and thus deprive the earth of the salt which has so long preserved it from destruction. His exit, through the frowning portals of the grave, is but to prevent those who are "in the Lord," from crowding, with hasty, willing steps, the pathway to his mysterious dwelling place, so delightful and glorious, as soon as the gloomy exterior is passed! Can it be, that this body, soon to become inanimate, and waste to dust, can, and will, revive and live ? that the eye, though dimmed with the film of death, will rebrighten, and sparkle with looks of recognition and love? That this lifeless body, once so loved, and embraced with the fondest affection and delight, but now so loathsome that it is looked upon with horror, and we bear it from our sight, and conceal it from view in the dark earth, will come forth more perfect and glorious than ever? Yea, saith the Spirit; from henceforth, "Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord;" for "It is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality." Then shall death be swallowed up in victory. Oh! are they not "blessed" who die only to live forever, in a state so infinitely above the most perfect condition of humanity, that it is " not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." Rev. Sidney Dyer, D. D.

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)

Praise and Worship from 1980s and 1990s

Influence Of The Dead...

       Oh, tell me not that they are dead - that generous host, that airy army of invisible heroes! They hover as a cloud of witnesses above this nation. Are they dead that yet speak louder than we can speak, and a more universal language? Are they dead that yet act? Are they dead that yet move upon society, and inspire the people with nobler motives and more heroic patriotism? Every mountain and hill shall have its treasured name, every river shall keep some solemn title, every valley and every lake shall cherish its honored register; and, till the mountains are worn out, and the rivers forget to flow, till the clouds are weary of replenishing springs, and the springs forget to gush, and the rills to sing, shall their names be kept fresh with reverent honors which are inscribed upon the book of national remembrance. Henry Ward Beecher

"The Most Famous Man in America" Henry Ward Beecher

The Christian's Death

       For centuries the world has admired the calmness and fortitude of Socrates in the presence of death, but if Socrates died like a philosopher, Patrick Henry died like a Christian. In his last illness, all other remedies having failed, his physician, Doctor Cobell, proceeded to administer to him a dose of liquid mercury. Taking the vial in his hand, and looking at it for a moment, the dying man said:

      "I suppose doctor, this is your last resort?''

      " I am sorry to say, governor, that it is."

      "What will be the effect of this medicine?"

      "It will give you immediate relief, or--"

      The doctor could not finish the sentence.

      His patient too up the word: "You mean, doctor, that it will give relief or will prove fatal immediately?"

      "You can live only a very short time without it," the doctor answered, "and it may possibly relieve you."

      Then the old statesman said:

      "Excuse me, doctor, for a few minutes," and drawing over his eyes a silken cap which he usually wore, and still holding the vial in his hand, he prayed in clear words a simple, childlike prayer for his family, for his country, and for his own soul, then in the presence of death. Afterward, in perfect calmness, he swallowed the medicine.

      Meanwhile Doctor Cobell, who greatly loved him, went out to the lawn, and in his grief threw himself down upon the earth under one of the trees, and wept bitterly. Soon, when he had sufficiently mastered himself, the doctor returned to his patient, whom he found calmly watching the congealing blood under his finger-nails, and speaking words of love and peace to his family, who were weeping round his chair.

      Among other things, he told them that he was thankful for that goodness of God which, having blest him through all his life, was then permitting him to die without any pain. Finally fixing his eyes with much tenderness upon his dear friend, Doctor Cobell, with whom he had formerly held many arguments respecting the Christian religion, he asked the doctor to observe how great a reality and benefit that religion was to a man about to die.

      And after Patrick Henry had spoken these few words in praise of something which, having never failed him in his life before, did not then fail him in his very last need of it, he continued to breath very softly for some moments, after which they who were looking upon him saw that his life had departed. -- The Youth's Companion 

• Who Was Patrick Henry?
• Patrick Henry Memorial Foundation - Red Hill

"Blessed Assurance" hymn recorded from Hymn For Today

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?"

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

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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.

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.

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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!"

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