Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘theologian’

To a dentist, wisdom is associated with a tooth.

To a theologian, wisdom is associated with Truth.

To the Salvation Army, wisdom is associated with Booth.

Friend, Seek God’s wisdom – don’t be uncouth.

                – eab, 10/26/09

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.

When the woes of life o’ertake me,
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy,
Never shall the cross forsake me,
Lo! it glows with peace and joy.

When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
From the cross the radiance streaming
Adds more luster to the day.

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.

In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.

John Bowring, Sir, was born this date, 10/17/1792, at Exeter in Devon, England.  He was a statesman, was active in Parliament and then governor of Hong Kong.  He was knighted by the Queen 1854.

Bowring was a linguist – mastered five (5) languages by age sixteen (16) and could converse an hundred (100) languages before he died – try to imagine that.  John was also a merchant, a theologian, and the author of a total of sixteen (16) volumes.  Sir Bowring however is best known for this good hymn “In the Cross of Christ I Glory.”

Read Full Post »

“On the Late Late Massacre in Piedmont”

 

Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones

Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold;

Ev’n them who kept the truth so pure of old,

When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones,

Forget not: in thy book record their groans

Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold

Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled

Mother with infant down the rocks.  Their moans

The vales redoubled to the hills, and they

To heav’n.  Their martyred blood and ashes sow

O’er all th’ Italian fields, where still doth sway

The triple Tyrant that from these may grow

A hundredfold, who, having learnt thy way,

Early may fly the Babylonian woe.

 

John Milton, one of the greatest (if not the greatest) poet of England died 11/6/1674 in London.  He is best known for Paradise Lost (1667), Paradise Regained (1671) but this is a good sonnet of his.  Milton was a philosopher, hynmist, poet, and theologian. 

Read Full Post »