In these shrewd days, in which it has become the cleverest thing to suspect the Devil everywhere, and God nowhere, it is thought romantic to believe in the innocence of childhood. And possibly it is, if applied to the actual children, once born in the image of God, but long ago twisted into our miserable likeness by the sight of our luxuries, the contagion of our selfishness, the hearing of our lies: possibly it is, if applied to those whom the church teaches to blaspheme their own nature, to confess a false guilt, and prate of an unreal rescue from an unfelt danger. The child cannot understand the penitential strains that float from the older world around him; what have these people been about, that they have so much evil to bewail? They appear to him very worthy, and it is very strange they should speak so grievously to God, and stand before Him with a culprit air and streaming tears. 

 But if the World and Church will only learn what the child's simple presence may teach, instead of teaching what he cannot innocently learn, the truth may dawn upon them, that the child seldom requires to be led, -- only not to be misled. For childhood has a ready faith, that may be most blessedly used or most wickedly abused; a faith so open to the sense of God, that almost unspoken, and as by look of holy sympathy, it may be given; so eager, that it will seize on all the nourishment of thought within its reach; so trustful, that it feels no difficulty, and will cause you none." 

James Martineau.  

 

 

"In the Feejee islands, it appears, cannibalism is now familiar. They eat their own wives and children. We only devour widow's houses, and great merchants outwit and absorb the substance of small ones and every man feeds on his neighbors labor if he can. It is a milder form of cannibalism." 

Ralph Waldo Emerson. 1841.

 

"Almost all of our relationships begin and most of them continue as forms of mutual exploitation, a mental or physical barter, to be terminated when one or both parties run out of goods." W.H.Auden

 

I was talking to a friend who spoke of her Mother's influence on her piano playing. I made some remarks about how it struck me. 

I said - "One of the things that I really liked was when you talked about what your mother said when you were playing the piano -- 

"What I remember, was that every time I sat to play piano, even today, I hear her voice behind me. She once told me to play an old hymn called 'Showers of Blessing' which I did. 

As I finished, she said “Hummmm, I didn't hear any rain?!" As I played it again, she whispered all through the song: 

“Make it rain. Make it rain"

So…I made it rain. 

When she told me to play “How Great Thou Art” she asked me to make the twinkling stars different than the roaring thunder. I did. 

To this day, that is the voice I hear and the way I play piano..." 

What struck me about that is when I hear someone preach about rain, or thunder I want to hear it and feel it! 

I must confess, I go into a coma quickly listening to lectures or monotone teaching. I suppose being raised up listening to Elvis, Ray and Janis may have tuned my ear to dramatic presentations, who knows, but if it's about rain, let me HEAR IT!

If you can't preach with genuine passion, whether you whisper or raise the rafters, please, sit down.