Archive for December 13th, 2014

A Month from Matthew – 13

Enter ye in at the strait gate:

for wide is the gate, and broad is the way, that leadeth to destruction, and

many there be which go in thereat:  7.13

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Yesterday Christ was born,

Sometime in the early morn

Today He calmed the sea.

Tomorrow He’ll be hung

At the place of dump and dung;

The middle cross of those three.


Yesterday He was born,

In a manger crudely formed.

Today He opened blind eyes.

Tomorrow He’ll be,

Propitiation for me.

(The priest will think Him a prize.)


Yesterday He rode the mule

To escape Herod, the cruel.

Today He cleansed the vile ten.

Tomorrow He’ll be nailed

After sarcastically hailed,

By His willful creatures: men.


Yesterday doctors learned

The twelve year-old who discerned

Today Pharisees the same.

Tomorrow they’ll revenge,

The times He made them cringe;

They’ll pile on Him all the blame.


Yesterday by John shown

The One for whom he’d groaned

Today palms and robes He trod.

Tomorrow He’ll borrow,

Joseph’s tomb of all sorrow.

Disciples will bury God.


Yesterdays aren’t all o’er,

After today there are more.

Life did not end in the grave.

In three days He was found,

Mary’s “Keeper” of the ground.

Death was now His lowly slave.


Yesterdays ceased for Him,

Forever began again.

Today Christmas’ plan is done.

The pathos that He bore,

For the race now and before,

Redeems by His Holy Son.

– eab, Nov. ’77

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Some folks don’t mind a little “Christianity”

– they just don’t let it interfere with their worldly lives.

– eab, 12/6/14

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It seemed Christ was conquered by death;

His blood flowed, He breathed His last breath.

But death was conquered by His cross,

God’s long plan did not suffer loss,

Christ “stole the march” on wicked stealth!

– eab, 12/13/06

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Phillips Brooks was born 12/13/1835 at Boston.  Through his father he was related to the famous Cotton family, while through his mother to the Phillips (Phillips Academy, Andover, MA).  He taught school briefly (was fired) and after that graduated from Virginian Theological Seminary.  He pastored in Philadelphia first, then at Trinity Episcopal Church (Boston), until he was elected bishop. 

Brooks never married but loved children and though six foot, four was known to keep toys in his office and was seen sitting on the floor playing with young visitors.  It is said that upon hearing of his death one child said, “O Mother won’t the angels be happy” (meaning that Brooks was now with them in heaven).  He penned “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” for his Sunday School children; based on his 1865 visit there.

The lesser known 4th stanza:

Where children pure and happy pray to the blessèd Child,

Where misery cries out to Thee, Son of the mother mild;

Where charity stands watching and faith holds wide the door,

The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more.

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