Insurance OR Assurance

Do people overly concerned

 

         with man’s insurance –

 

                 Lack God’s assurance?            

 

 – eab, 9/21/09

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Sonnet – Watch

Once they wanted heaven,

Now they’re happy with earth.

Once liked holy laughter,

Now seek out cheap mirth.

Once saints were their company,

Now saints they seem to shun.

Once they were in the race,

Now have forgotten how to run.

Be watchful little pilgrim,

Be humble in your own sight,

Be loving to your neighbor,

One near, one out of sight.

Work, walk, be awake, watch,

Day soon turns to dark night.

                – eab, 9/6/09

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George Whitefield – death, Sep. 30, 1770

George Whitefield died this date, 9/30/1770 (5:00 AM), in Newburyport, Massachusetts.  Whitfield, of course, was a Brit but liked coming to American – in fact he died on his seventh visit here. 

 

He was seen by many as the most striking orator to come out of 18th century English revivalism.  (Wesley spoke more people but Whitefield speaking skills passed Wesley’s.) 

 

Whitfield’s last spoken words are said to be, “I had rather wear out, than rust out.”

He was only 56 years old.

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Heaven or hell

Earth:  the only “heaven”

 

          a sinner will know –

 

the only “hell” [1]

 

          a saint will know.           

 – eab, 9/13/09

 

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[1] Said with carefulness.

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MORNING CAME TO STAY

It was evening on Golgotha,

For the second time that day. [1]  

They had taken down a Form,

Grave-wrap’d and carried it away

Rome, its mission over,

Clattered off with cadent pride.

It was dark in old Jerusalem. 

The Prince of Peace had died.

v 2

It was silent in the chamber

Where eleven men had fled

He had promised so much victory,

Oh, the glor’ous things He’d said.

But they’d heard the thud of hammers,

Seen the life-blood flow.

They thought their senses told them,

All they’d need to know.

v3

Now the Spirit says expressly

That a drifting trend will come.

Oh, the world be too much with us,

Seems to us too much like home

But the Father, He is with us;

Helps us meet our goal

There’s vict’ry for the sinner,

There’s filling, un- fill’d soul.

v4     

O, remember saint, Christ loves you,

Always has, and always will.

And the morning soon will open,

Fill’d with joyous, raptured thrill!

All four kingdoms of the world,

Will bow before our King.

Millions, past and present will,

Join voices as we sing.

Chorus

Christ was triumphant over sin. Is now triumphant.

And He’ll always Conquer’r be.

He is triumphant.  He is triumphant.

He has brought man victory. [2]

          – 9/29/2000

 

 

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^[1] In some ways the hardest line of any poem is the first. This idea came as a new thought – two evenings in one day.

^[2] Written in my associate professor office during the week and sung in the night service 10/1/2000.  (Pastor Pierpoint thought someone he’d known years ago had written it.)

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Thomas Tenison – birth, Sep. 29, 1636

Thomas Tenison was born this date 9/29/1636, near Cambridge, England.  He was a voice for Jesus Christ during the reign of James II.  He served as bishop of Lincoln and archbishop of Canterbury and founded a free library. One source said he was “a strenuous opponent of the Church of Rome.”  Probably the most important thing Tenison did was to found the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (1701).

He passed from this life 12/14/1715 at London.

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Proud of our minds

Pride can be,

 

          not just what we think –                 

 

but what we THINK

 

          about what we think  🙂

 

– eab, 9/1/09

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FREE? — DEAD!

Time was when Mr. Leaf was attached,

Tied comfortably to his own home Tree.

He was close to his fellow “brethren,”

Greenish, growing in Tree liberty.

 

He had his function in the Body,

Helped the Tree (though he was slightly curled)

Gave the Tree his loving, living best, 

Growing, glowing there above the world.

 

Then air took a little colder nudge,

“Autumn,” as the human’s call it, fell.

Mr. Leaf got a tinge of color,

He did not seem to feel quite as well.

 

More cold came into his leafy world,

And a fall rain or two came his way.

The Leaf noticed he seemed less attached,

He began to enjoy his new sway.

 

A critical moment came to him;

He found himself loose from his home Tree.

From the Body he severed his ties.

Mr. Leaf was, at last, “really free.”

 

Oh, what a sinsation this all was,

He found himself flying through the air

He could turn right, or he could turn left,

So different from when he was “up there.”

 

He actually got to see the world. 

Saw things he had never seen before.

The Tree had “limited” his past life,

The world had variety galore.

 

As he moved away from his old Tree,

Mr. Leaf liked his new-fangled ride.

He even was lifted up so high,

Gladly, he was proud of his new pride.

 

How nice it was to slip through the air,

Giddy, to be caught up in the swirl,

He enjoyed mixing with other Leaves

Raved in the charm of a sleek Leaf girl.

 

He did notice in honest moments,

He was closer to dirt than before.

But he swirled – swirled, forgetting that thought

What fun it was to once freely soar.

 

Excitedly the world came closer,

He knew not how dangerous it was.

Dirt, from distance, had earthy appeal;

Up close he saw bling – it lacked buzz.

 

Swooping, slopping ever-downward now,

Mr. Leaf landed in his descent.

The world was hard.  He’d expected more

Its hardness hurt; his old surface rent.

 

Was this stuff rock? Was this thing real mud?

After fun was he stuck to the ground?

Where was the freedom he thought he had?

Where was the “free life” he had just found?

 

His Body, his faithful old Tree stood.

It hadn’t moved; he’s the one who fled.

The Body (his lost Tree) was alive.

Mr. Leaf, with his “freedom” was dead.

                – eab, 9/28/09

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John Newton -wrote, Sep. 28, 1774

Glorious things of thee are spoken,
Zion, city of our God;
he whose word cannot be broken
formed thee for his own abode;
on the Rock of Ages founded,
what can shake thy sure repose?
With salvation’s walls surrounded,
thou may’st smile at all thy foes.

See! the streams of living waters,
spring form eternal love,
well supply thy sons and daughters
and all fear of want remove.
Who can faint, when such a river
ever flows their thirst to assuage?
Grace which, like the Lord, the Giver,
never fails from age to age.

Round each habitation hovering,
see the cloud and fire appear
for a glory and a covering,
showing that the Lord is near.
Thus they march, their pillar leading,
light by night, and shade by day;
daily on the manna feeding
which he gives them when they pray.

Blest inhabitants of Zion,
washed in the Redeemer’s blood!
Jesus, whom their souls rely on,
makes them kings and priests to God.
‘Tis his love his people raises
over self to reign as kings:
and as priests, his solemn praises
each for a thank-offering brings.

Savior, if of Zion’s city,
I through grace a member am,
let the world deride or pity,
I will glory in thy Name.
Fading is the worldling’s pleasure,
all his boasted pomp and show;
solid joys and lasting treasure
none but Zion’s children know.

 

John Newton on this date, 9/28/1774 is thought to have written (in a letter)

“We are always equally in danger in ourselves and always equally safe under the shadow of His wings.”  Newton was an Anglican minister and hymn writer best known for his “Amazing Grace.”  He was a personal friend and back-fence neighbor to William Cowper.

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Can’t serve two Masters

You will follow the Prophets –

 

 

or you will follow the Profit$.

 

– eab, 8/03

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