Posts Tagged ‘sin’

If Christ does not save from sin,



From what does He save?

– eab, 12/6/09

Read Full Post »

Salvation – men out of sin!


Sanctification – sin out of men! 

               – eab, 8/83

Read Full Post »

You can think you’re a blessing

            – failing to see SIN

in the midst of a supposed blessing.    

– eab, 1978

Read Full Post »

It should be the greatest of all desires

                              to avoid all sin


          – sin is the one thing that will keep

                             us out of heaven.

– eab, 12/14/99

Read Full Post »

Too busy with velvets and materials of worth,

Too busy with pleasant little islands of mirth,

Too busy doing the “duties” of earth,

Too busy for Pretty, Baby Jesus.


Too busy in commerce and trading of stocks,

Too busy in making, and watching the clocks,

Too busy storing silver behind big locks,

Too busy for the Pre-teen Jesus.


Too busy buying and selling fishing boats,

Too busy sowing and reaping, barley and oats,

Too busy sewing second and third coats,

Too busy for a Preaching Jesus.


Too busy getting the best rooms at the feast,

Too busy adjusting to ever-spreading yeast, 

Too busy to care for the little, and the least,

Too busy for the Prophetic Jesus.


Too busy calling others to mourn or dance,

Too busy lustily casting the side-ways glance, 

Too busy “counting chickens” in advance, 

Too busy for Pronouncing Jesus.


And when we’ve sowed all the wild stuff we can sow,

And we’re reaping it, row after 100-fold row,

And sin finally has lost its false tinsel and show.

We may find the Christ, for whom time was never made;

Has left us.  We won’t be too busy in the tomb’s shade. –eab, 7/05

Read Full Post »

“Abortion stops a beating heart.”


                   Sin stops a Christian’s beating heart. – eab, 5/97

Read Full Post »

Out, Out

Salvation – men out of sin!

                      š ›

          Sanctification – sin out of men!  -eab, 8/83

Read Full Post »

Heaven had such luster, such delight,

While far below on the footstool of God,

The absence of beauty, the absence of light,

Ruled over river and rock and sod,

And over plants and over creeping things,

And animals with hoofs, and animals with wings.


For thousands of years it had been thus;

Day constantly pursued by the night.

Twilight toning to shades of dusk –

The way to walk again lost from sight –

Man floundering in murk and mire,

With only here and there a tiny fire.


The Creator saw His creatures’ needs;

Saw the contrast of heaven and earth,

Saw, through darkness, the wound that bleeds,

Saw the man in shadow’s firm girth;

And seeing He felt, seeing He cared,

And destined Heaven’s Light to be shared.


Christ left the sight of eternal morn,

Departed in mutual, Sovereign will.

And arrived at night, Ah, time forlorn;

Time that drags for the sad and the ill.

Oh, what Providence, that the Prince of Light,

Should arrive on earth in the middle of the night.


And the night to which He came was more,

Than a mere dome of black o’re head.

Sin had blackened the human shore

(Far worse than oil slicks of modern dread)

And proceeded to ink the rest of the race,

From the pagan’s hut to the civilized place.


All this night, all this visionless foul,

Christ, the Illustrious, met full of force.

He brightened them both (Don’t ask me how.)

And challenging, changed the nature, the course,

Of the darkness, the ruin, the blackness of sin,

Both outward and inward, the problems of men!


So as beautiful stars light the winter’s sky,

Remember that Christ came from brilliance – to none.

Sacrificing for man, that man might glorify

The Light, the only self-brilliant One.

And remember, heaven shared its gift of light,

In the middle of Bethlehem‘s, Ah, the world’s dark night.  – eab, 12/14/79

Read Full Post »

If you could create your own Jesus,

To suit your political taste,

You might have Him born “like a king,”

And not in a manger, near waste.


You might have His step-dad a merchant,

Perhaps owning part of the bank,

So Jesus could have lots of funds,

And thus dress a little more swank.


You might change the scene at the temple,

(At twelve He confounded the docs.)

Pretend that He birds made on wing,

By merrily tossing up rocks.


You might have Him coddling the preachers,

Intent on their legalist brew,

(But He called them hypocrites – Wow,

No wonder they “bit nails in two.”)                   


Your special “new Jesus,” your dream one,

Might skip all Golgotha’s cold loss, 

He’d be a warm “pattern,” and teach,

Avoiding the grave and the cross.


A Christ so political saves none.

All sinners would die in their sin.

Thank God for His Son, who is real,

Not something created by men.


The real Christ died once for all sinners,

Arose He then, Victor, not dead.

He’s coming again, now to rule.

It’s just like they* said that He said.

                      ~  o  ~

Amen and Amen, once again!  – eab, 12/12/‘03

Written while in Phoenix, Arizona

*  The Bible writers

Read Full Post »

Through all of time…sin was, is, will be the parent of misery.  This land calls itself most Christian…

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 42.  


It is Spiritual Bankruptcy, long tolerated; verging now toward Economical Bankruptcy, and become intolerable.

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 65.  


On the whole, how unknown is a man to himself; or a public Body of men to itself! — Great Governors …are governed by their valets…or in Constitutional countries, by the paragraphs of their Able Editors.

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 390.  


“O Liberty, what things are done in Thy name!” – Jeanne-Marie Philipon

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 639.  


All Anarchy, by the nature of it, is not only destructive, but self-destructive.

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 673.  


If all wars, civil and other, are misunderstandings, what a thing must right-understanding be!

                – Thomas Carlyle, The French Revolution, (NY: Random House, Inc., n.d.), 708. 


Thomas Carlyle was born 12/4/1795 in Dumfriesshire, Scotland [died 2/4/1881, London].

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »