When I think I have heard the worst story of victimization a student at the center can tell, sadly, it is followed by another, reaching new heights of evil. Such is the story of one of the guys at center now; I’ll call him Bill, who was prey to an adult pedophile neighbor whose lust for evil knows no bounds. He drew in Bill with the intent of filming him and the only female victim available was Bill’s younger sister who he was forced to have sex with while being filmed. It didn’t end there; he was also forced to have sex with animals while being filmed. I’ll end the details there, which should suffice to paint the picture of his case of horrid child abuse; I wish it ended there but no normal mind can imagine the extent of the abuse.

Enduring these abuses caused Bill to act out which caused his father, not to inquire about the changes but rather to react to them and draw away from Bill and ultimately to punish, verbally abuse and lastly, physically abuse him.

Living in this world of madness where the vileness of the acts penetrated to the very marrow of his young bones, as soon as he was introduced to the numbing and mood elevating effects of intoxicants, he was soon addicted.

But the story does not end there because when Bill heard the story of Christ’s power to cleanse the darkest soul and forgive the vilest sins: Bill clutched the hem of Christ’s garment with such fervor that, be it dragged to heaven or carried, he would not let go. Of course Jesus lifted him up and lavished His emergency grace over Bill and washed him white as snow. I can’t remember a more devoted student, who longs to serve and please God with such a single mind that my faith blushes in comparison.

May I never resist the promptings of the Spirit of Christ when he bids me speak.

Painting by Simon Dewey

I ran across this piece the other day and I thought it was really good. It is about “What Jesus do you believe in.” Even though this is from new minds of today, I think it is filled with insightful thoughts. Enjoy.

“We must face the fact that many different saviors can be smuggled in under the name “Jesus”, just as many different deities can be disguised under the term “God” and vastly different ways of living can be promoted under the name “Christianity.” Jesus can be a victim of identity theft, and peoples can say and do things with and in his name that he would never ever do. Nobody has helped me see this more clearly than one of my most loyal and dedicated critics.

He was being interviewed a couple of years ago and described me and my friends as those that want: to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in His hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes.

Quite a way with words! The characterization of my friends and me was nothing, though, compared to his characterization of Jesus that came shortly thereafter:

“In Revelation, Jesus is a prize-fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is the guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper; halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up.”

What would cause this articulate and highly committed Christian to portray Jesus as a prize-fighter, armed with a sword, intent on harming, killing, inflicting violence, drawing blood?

……However ridiculous – or tasteless – some portray Christ, it mirrors as only satire can a sad reality of church history and of today’s religious landscape. We all are tempted to remake Jesus into just about anything we like. We like a Jesus who hates the people we hate and likes whatever we like, a certain kind of politics, either right or left, or cuddly omnipotence. Too many of us, whether as individuals or groups, honestly – and naively – believe our view is “objective” and “true”, with no distortion at all.

Among those who become more self-aware about the danger of distortion, an understandable fear arises; if all of us (not just “all of them”) are tempted to remake Jesus in our own image, then we should be extremely cautious about compromising, letting Jesus be reimaged according to our contemporary tastes.

Thoughtful readers have probably already anticipated a problem with this otherwise well-founded caution. By holding a presumptive hostility to new views of Jesus, which may indeed reflect contemporary biases, we may unwittingly preserve old views of Jesus, which also reflect dangerous and comprising biases – just biases of the past rather that the present.

So, in successfully rejecting an insipid “hippie, diaper, halo Christ,” we may unintentionally protect and uphold --

The white supremacist Jesus,

The colonial Jesus,

The Eurocentric Jesus,

The slave-owning Jesus,

The nuclear bomb-dropping America first Jesus,

The organ-music stained glass nostalgic-sentimental Jesus,

The Native American-slaying genocidal Jesus,

The cuddly omnipotent Christmas Jesus,

The male-chauvinist Jesus,

The homophobic “God hates fags” Jesus,

The South African pro-apartheid Jesus,

The Joe-six-pack-Jesus, and so on.

Those who think they stand had better take heed lest they fall, and those who think they know may have some more learning to do.

As we noted earlier, the slippery slope argument – that we’d better not budge on or rethink anything for fear we’ll slip down into liberalism, apostasy, or some other hell – proves itself dangerous and naïve even as it tries to protect us from danger and naiveté. First it assumes we’re already at the top of the slope, when it’s just as likely that we’re at the bottom or somewhere in the middle. Second, it assumes that, even if we were at the peak, there’s only one side we might be in danger of sliding down, as if the mountain had only a northern liberal slope without an equally dangerous southern conservative slope, or an Eastern “new age” slope without an equally Western “old age” slope. You can back away from one danger smack over the hill of another.

My loyal critic sincerely and passionately believes in the tattooed, sword wielding prize fighter Jesus because of his reading of Revelation 19:11-16 –

“Then I saw heaven opened, and there was a white horse! Its rider is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems; and he has a name inscribed that no one knows but himself. He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and his name is called the Word of God. And the armies of heaven, wearing fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horsed. From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron; he will tread the wine press of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. On his robe and on his thigh he has a name inscribed, “King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

Now, if we read this passage not as a constitutional document decreeing future events, but as a crucial document in the biblical library, we need to place it in its historical context and genre. Clearly, this is a work of Jewish apocalyptic literature, which in turn is part of a larger genre known as the literature of the oppressed. These kinds of literature worked in the first century in ways similar to the way some science fiction works for us today. For example, when we read or watch Planet of the Apes, Star Trek, The Matrix, or Wall-E, we don’t think the writers and filmmakers are trying to predict the future. No, we understand they are really talking about the present, and they are doing so in hopes of changing the future.

So Planet of the Apes turns out to be a way of talking about how nuclear war—a hot topic in the Cold War era in which it was written – could destroy humanity……

The depictions of the future given in these works of science fiction are not predictions or prognostications. They provide windows on the actual present from the perspective of an imagined future, and they do so in hopes of influencing us in the present to live and choose wisely, thus creating a better future than we otherwise would.

In the Apocalypse, or Revelation, early followers of Jesus are in a similar moment of creative possibility. They must deal with the fact that they believe Jesus was right and his kingdom was true, yet they are being vilified and persecuted brutally. The emperor of Rome seems firmly in control, and nothing seems to be moving in the direction of the Kingdom of God. In that light, what message do they need? Do they need to hear that soon they can forget about all that naïve peace and forgiveness stuff that Jesus taught, because soon they’ll be allowed to pull out their swords, mount their warhorses, and kick some persecutor’s hindquarters? Or do they need a message of reassurance, encouragement and confidence that the way of peace that Jesus modeled is indeed the good and right way, that it will triumph in the end, and so they shouldn’t give up on it?

Apparently, the passage in question can be interpreted wither way – one way that subverts the reconciling messages of Jesus’s gospel and life, and another way that reinforces them.

For me, the latter approach is the only acceptable one.

The passage in question isn’t telling us Jesus is a prize-fighter with a commitment to make somebody bleed. Nor is it claiming that the Jesus of the gospels was a fake-me-out Jesus pretending to be a peace-and-love guy, when really he was planning to come back and act like a proper Caesar, more of a slash-and-burn guy, brutal, willing to torture, and determined to conquer with crushing violence.

Nor is it informing us that even God has to use violence to impose the divine will in the end.

Instead, this image of Jesus as a conqueror reassures believers that the peaceful Jesus who entered Jerusalem on a donkey that day wasn’t actually weak and defeated; he was in fact every bit as powerful as a Caesar on a steed. His message of forgiveness and reconciliation – conveyed as a sword coming out of his mouth (not in his hand, as my loyal critic asserted – quite an important detail)

Will in the end prove far more powerful than Caesar’s handheld swords and spears. And the blood on his robe—that’s not the blood of his enemies. It’s his own blood, because the battle hasn’t even begun yet, and Revelation has already shown us Jesus “as a lamb standing as if it had been slaughtered” (5:6)

And it may also recall the blood of the peaceful martyrs (6:9-11), since in attacking them, violent forces were also attacking Jesus, the Prince of Peace, who taught them the way of peace.

To repeat, Revelation is not portraying Jesus returning to earth in the future, having repented of his naïve gospel ways and having converted to Caesar’s “realistic” methods instead. He hasn’t gotten discouraged about Caesar seeming to get the upper hand after his resurrection and on that basis concluded that it’s best to live by the sword after all. Jesus hasn’t abandoned the way of peace and concluded the way of Pilate is better, mandating that his disciples should fight after all. He hasn’t had second thoughts about all that talk about forgiveness and concluded that on the 78^th offense (or 491^st, depending on interpretation), you should pull out your sword and hack off your offender’s head rather than turn the other cheek.

He hasn’t given up on that “love your enemies” stuff and judged it naïve and foolish after all, concluding instead that God’s strength is made manifest not in weakness but in crushing domination. He hasn’t had a change of heart, concluding that the weapons he needs are physical after all or that the enemies of the kingdom are flesh and blood after all, which would mean that the way to glory isn’t actually by dying on the cross but rather by nailing others on it.

When I read this I thought of both Martin Luther King Jr. and Gandhi, and how absurd it would be to think that either of them would turn to the sword if they had lived longer.

A New Kind of Christianity by Brian McLaren, painting from the Internet

Ya gotta love this gal's hair.

This is a painting of "Much Afraid" with her two helpers Sorrow and Suffering, from the book "Hinds Feet On High Places", by Daniel F. Gerhartz. She was comforted by her two companions and they helped her along her way to heaven. If you haven't read the book I highly recommend it, it is a Christian classic. I was feeling down the other day and I picked up a book titled Precious Remedies Against Satan's Devices by Thomas Brooks. When ever I'm in the need of a full course meal I turn to Thomas, he rarely disappoints; this day was no different. Here is one of his many remedies against the enemy ----

"The sixth remedy against this device of Satan is, solemnly to consider, That believers must repent for their being discouraged by their sins. Their being discouraged by their sins will cost them many a prayer, many a tear, and many a groan; and that because their discouragements under sin flow from ignorance and unbelief. It springs from their ignorance of the richness, freeness, fullness, and everlastingness of God's love; and from their ignorance of the power, glory, sufficiency, and efficacy of the death and sufferings of the Lord Jesus Christ; and from their ignorance of the worth, glory, fullness, largeness, and completeness of the righteousness of Jesus Christ; and from their ignorance of that real close, spiritual, glorious, and inseparable union that is between Christ and their precious souls. Ah! did precious souls know and believe the truth of these things as they should, they would not sit down dejected and overwhelmed under the sense and operation of sin, etc.

If you can find a path with no obstacles, it probably doesn't lead anywhere. -

Frank A. Clark

Sidewalk debri

I was working in the center the other day and walked up towards the cash register and noticed my register man walking with a cell phone at his ear going towards the outside door. I assumed he had a customer question so I went to cover the register. He didn’t return right away which was out of character and I later found out that one of our men Eric was outside holding a sign when a man pulled up and got out of his car and opened the passenger side door where a woman was and he lifted her out and rolled her on the sidewalk, rushed back to his car, yelled out, “call 911” and sped away. Eric came in and called to the register man Seth, to call 911 which he did immediately; then he went to find out what he was calling for. When the operator answered he told her he could see a woman laying lifeless on the sidewalk. By then three other brothers from the center were outside around her praying. The 911 operator asked Seth to see if she was breathing, he said she didn’t appear to be. The operator asked him to put his ear to her mouth to see if he could hear her breathing; he did so but couldn’t hear anything and told the operator she was turning blue. She asked him if he was comfortable giving CPR, he wondered what his comfort had to do with anything but noticed what seemed to be a fluttering heart beat but it seemed to be diminishing. Just as he was about to administer CPR the woman gasped, then in a few seconds gasped again and continued to breath in a belabored fashion. Seth noticed an ambulance driving by and asked the operator if she could contact them and have them turn back. Soon the ambulance arrived and assessed her condition and gave her an injection of Norpan?, a drug that fools the opiate receptors in the brain so they cannot detect the opiate for about 15 minutes and then another injection is needed. The woman had overdosed on opiates and her beloved, who was captured not long after because of the presence of mind of the men who got his license plate numbers, had dumped her for who knows what reason?

It was another intense time at the center and one has to wonder why the man chose that location, between our center and a Porn shop, to discard her.

No question the woman’s life was saved because of the quick thinking and concentrated prayers of the men at the center.

This morning, as I was remembering this and wondering what it all meant, it came to me that the man who cast her aside and ran back to his car yelling for strangers to call 911 must certainly be desperately wicked. I wondered what he looked like, this monster of a man, and as I was thinking about this the Lord let me see his face; and the face was mine, as well as all of the guys at the center who have reeked havoc in the lives of others and then fled our responsibilities trusting the out-come to strangers, other family members, single moms, government institutions or just a 911 call to heaven. It was a sobering moment as I shared this today with the guys. It hit home and we ended with an earnest prayer of dedication and sober reflections.

Photo from the Internet

Going Home

I was reading in Thomas Brook’s “A String of Pearls”, a sermon given at a close friends funeral, and in his introduction he speaks of the woman – Mrs. Mary Blake deceased, with such fondness and inspiration that it moved me and I thought I would share some of the kind things he said of this woman who has gone to be with Christ some 400 years ago.

“Before I name my text, give me leave to speak a few words upon another text, viz., the glorified saint deceased, at whose funeral we are here met.

In life she was my joy… the work of grace upon her heart was clear, powerful, and thorough, as all know that knew her inwardly. She was a knowing woman in the things of Christ; and her knowledge was inward, experimental, growing, humbling, transforming, and practical. She knew Christ in the mystery as well as in the history; in the spirit as well as in the letter; feelingly, as well as notionally; she did not only eat of the tree of knowledge, but also tasted of the tree of life.

A sincere soul is like the violet, which grows low, and hides itself and its own sweetness, as much as may be, with its own leaves; and such a one was she. She had as many choice, visible characters of sincerity and uprightness upon her, as ever I read upon any Christian that I have had the happiness to be acquainted with. But I must not dwell on these things; I shall only say she was not like the actor in the comedy, who cried with his mouth, O heaven! But pointed with his finger to the earth. Such professors there be, but she was none of them.

She was as rich in spiritual experiences as most that I have been acquainted with. Ah! How often hath she warmed, gladded, and quickened my spirit, by acquainting me with what the Lord hath done for her precious soul. Experiences in religion are beyond notions and impressions. A sanctified heart is better than a silver tongue; and she found it so. Oh! The stories that she was able to tell of the love of God, the presence of Christ, the breathings of the Spirit, the exercise of grace, the sweetness of the word, the deceitfulness of sin, and the devices and methods of Satan. And though she made uses of her experiences, as crutches to lean on, yet she only made use of the promises as a foundation to build on.

As the star led the wise men to Christ, her experiences were her sauce, but Christ was still her food.

She was a Christian in profession, and a Christian in practice; a Christian in lip, and a Christian in life; a Christian in word, and a Christian in work; a Christian in show, and a Christian in power and spirit.

She was for patience and cheerfulness under her long lingering weakness, as exemplary as any that ever I was acquainted with. If at any time she groaned, yet she blessed God, as she used to say, that she did not grumble. Oh how quiet, how like a lamb she was under all her trials. Oh how well she would speak of God! oh how sweetly did she carry it towards God! oh how much was she taken up in justifying of God throughout her pining, wasting sicknesses!

What eyes thou read’st with, reader, know I wot,

Mine were not dry when I this story wrote."

Photo from the Internet

The Prayer-Seeker

Along the aisle where prayer was made,

A woman, all in black arrayed,

Close-veiled, between the kneeling host,

With gliding motion of a ghost,

Passed to the desk, and laid thereon

A scroll which bore these words alone,

Pray for me!

Back from the place of worshipping

She glided like a guilty thing:

The rustle of her draperies stirred

By hurrying feet, alone was read,

As out into the dark she sped:

Pray for me!

Back to the night from whence she came,

To unimagined grief or shame!

Across the threshold of that door

None knew the burden that she bore;

Alone she left the written scroll,

The legend of a troubled soul, ---

Pray for me!

Glide on, poor ghost of woe or sin!

Thou leav’st a common need within;

Each bears, like thee, some nameless weight,

Some misery inarticulate,

Some secret sin, some shrouded dread,

Some household sorrow all unsaid.

Pray for us!

Pass on! The type of all thou art,

Sad witness to the common heart!

With face in veil and seal on lip,

In mute and strange companionship,

Like thee we wander to and fro,

Dumbly imploring as we go:

Pray for us!

Ah, who shall pray, since he who pleads

Our want perchance hath greater needs?

Yet they who make their loss the gain

Of others shall not ask in vain,

And Heaven bends low to hear the prayer

Of love from lips of self-despair:

Pray for us!

In vain remorse and fear and hate

Beat with bruised hands against a fate

Whose walls of iron only move

And open to the touch of love.

He only feels his burdens fall

Who, taught by suffering, pities all.

Pray for us!

He prayeth best who leaves unguessed

The mystery of another’s breast.

Why cheeks grow pale, why eyes o’erflow,

Or heads are white, thou need’st not know.

Enough to note by many a sign

That every heart hath needs like thine.

Pray for us!

Poem by John Greenleaf Whittier, photo by Manuel Libres Librodo Jr.

Anger

At the center the most common problem we deal with is the men's anger. When you have been abusing drugs and alcohol for years you lose the respect of everyone and the easiest way to get compliance is with your anger because you have lost the power of love and respect. Certainly all men struggle to some degree with anger issues and I found this piece filled with good information and warning.

"It does no good to get angry. Some sins have a seeming compensation or apology, a present gratification of some sort, but anger has none. A man feels no better for it. It is really a torment, and when the storm of passion has cleared away, it leaves one to see that he has been a fool. And he has made himself a fool in the eyes of others too.

Sinful anger, when it becomes strong, is called wrath; when it makes outrages, it is fury; when it becomes fixed, it is termed hatred; and when it intends to injure any one, it is called malice. All these wicked passions spring from anger.

The continuance and frequent fits of anger produce an evil habit of the soul, a propensity to be angry, which oftentimes ends in choler, bitterness, and morosity;

When the mind becomes ulcerated, peevish, and fretting, and like a thin, weak plate of iron, receives impressions, and is wounded by the least occurrence.

Anger is such a headstrong and impetuous passion, that the ancients call it a short madness; and indeed there is no difference between an angry man and a madman while the fit continues, because both are void of reason and blind for the moment. It is a disease that, while it prevails, is no less dangerous than deforming to us; it swells the face, it agitates the body, and inflames the blood; and as the evil spirit mentioned in the Gospel threw the possessed into fire or water, so it casts us into all kinds of danger.

“There is not in nature a thing that

Makes man so deformed, so beastly

As does uncontrolled anger.” John Webster

It too often ruins or subverts whole families, towns, cities and kingdoms. It is a vice that very few can conceal; and if it does not betray itself by such external signs as paleness and trembling of the limbs, it is more violent within, and by gnawing in the heart injures the body and the mind very much.

No man is expected to live so free of passion as not so show some resentment; and it is rather stoical stupidity than virtue, to do otherwise. Anger may glance into the breast of a wise man for a moment, but it comes to rest in the bosom of fools.

“Wise anger is like fire from the flint;

There is a great ado to bring it out;

And when it does come,

It is out again immediately.” Matthew Henry

Fight hard against a hasty temper. Anger will come, but resist it strongly. A spark may set a house on fire. A fit of passion may give you cause to mourn all the days of your life. Never revenge an injury. If you are aware of being in a passion, keep your mouth shut, for words increase it. Dr. Fuller used to say that the heat of passion makes our souls crack, and the devil creeps in at the crevices. Anger is a passion the most criminal and destructive of all the passions;

The only passion that not only bears the appearance of insanity, but often produces the wildest form of madness. It is difficult, indeed, sometimes to mark the line that distinguishes the bursts of rage from the bursts of a mad frenzy; so similar are its movements, and too often equally similar are its actions.

What crime has not been committed in the passion and outbursts of anger? Has not the friend murdered his friend? The son massacred his parent? The creature blasphemed his Creator? When, indeed, the nature of this passion is considered, what crime may it not commit? Is it not the storm of the human mind, which wrecks every better affection – wrecks reason and conscience; and, as a ship driven without helm or compass before the rushing gale, it not the mind born away, without guide or government, by the tempest of unbounded rage?

A passionate temper renders a man unfit for advice, deprives him of his reason, robs him of all that is either great or noble in his nature; it makes him unfit for conversation, destroys friendships, changes justice into cruelty, and turns all order into confusion. One angry word sometimes raises a storm that time itself cannot calm. There is many a man whose tongue might govern multitudes, if he could only govern his tongue. He is the man of power who controls the storms and tempests of his mind. But he that will be angry for anything, will be angry for nothing. If we do not subdue our anger it will subdue us. Our passions are like the seas, agitated by the winds; and as God has set bounds to these, so should we to those – so far shalt thou go, and no farther.

Angry and choleric men are as ungrateful and unsociable as thunder and lightning, being in themselves all storm and tempests; but quiet and easy natures are like fair weather, welcome to all, and acceptable to all men; they gather together what the other disperses, and reconcile all whom the other pushes away; as they have good will and the good wishes of all other men, so they have the full possession of themselves, have all their own thoughts at peace, and enjoy quiet and ease in their own fortunes, how little so ever it may be.

But how is it with the angry man, and who thinks well of an ill-natured, churlish man, who has to be approached in the most guarded and cautious way?

Who wants him for a neighbor, or a partner in business?

He keeps all those around him in nearly the same state of mind as if they were living next door to a hornet’s nest or a rabid animal.

And how will the angry man be in business. What if business is perplexing and everything is contrary! Will a fit of passion make the wind calm, the ground productive, the market more favorable? Will bad temper draw customers, pay notes, and make creditors better natured? If men, animals, or senseless matter cause trouble, will getting “mad” help matters? Will it make men more subservient, brutes more docile, wood and stone easier to work with?

Any angry man adds nothing to the welfare of society. He may do some good, but more hurt. Heated passion makes him a firebrand, and it is a wonder that he does not kindle flames of discord on every hand.

The disadvantages arising from anger, no matter what the circumstances, should prove a remedy for the complaint. In moments of cool reflection, the man who indulges it, views with deep regret the desolations produced by a summer storm of angry passion. Friendship, domestic happiness, self-respect, the esteem of others, and sometimes property, are swept away by a whirlwind; perhaps a tornado of anger. I have more than once seen the furniture of a house in a mass of ruin, the work of an angry moment. I have seen anger make wives unhappy and cower in fear, children shake and cry out in fear of the very one they should run to for safety, all harmony lost, and the entire neighbor hood disturbed.

Anger, like too much wine, hides us from ourselves, but exposes us to others.

Some people seem to live in a perpetual storm; calm weather can never be reckoned upon when in their company. Suddenly, when you least expect it, without any adequate reason, and almost without any reason at all, the sky becomes black, and the wind rises, and there is growling thunder and pelting rain. You can hardly tell where the tempest came from. A simple accident by a child, a misunderstanding which a moments calm thought would have terminated, a chance word which meant no evil, a trifling difficulty which good sense might have removed at once, a slight disappointment which a cheerful heart would have borne with a smile, brings on earthquakes and hurricanes.

To be angry about trifles is low and childish; to rage and be furious is brutish; and to maintain perpetual wrath is akin to the practice and temper of devils.

Man was born to reason, to reflection, and to do all things quietly and in order. Anger takes from him this ability, transforms his manship into childish petulance, his reasoning powers into brute instinct. Consider, then, how much more you often suffer from your anger than from those things for which you are angry.

And where does it all end? More often than not, the angry man ends up alone.

Spouse gone, children lost, home shattered, friends driven off, parents left in grief.

Remember; don’t be angry that you cannot make others as you wish them to be, since you cannot make yourself what you wish to be."

The Royal Path of Life - Photo by Tony Hnojcik

Memorial Day

"We were no sooner come to the Temple Stairs, but we were surrounded with a crowd of watermen, offering us their respective services. Sir Rodger, after having looked about him very attentively, spied one with a wooden leg, and immediately gave him orders to get his boat ready. As we were walking towards it, “you must know,” says Sir Roger, “I never make use of anybody to row me, that has not either lost a leg or arm. I would rather bate him a few strokes of his oar than not employ an honest man that has been wounded in the Queen’s service. If I was a lord or a bishop, and kept a barge, I would not put a fellow in my livery that had not a wooden leg.”

Joseph Addison

Joseph Addison addresses the need for exercise in this little piece and quotes a great poem by Dryden –

“For my own part I intend to hunt twice a week during my stay with Sir Rodger; and shall prescribe the moderate use of this exercise to all my country friends, as the best kind of physic for mending a bad constitution, and preserving a good one. I cannot do this better, than in the following lines out of Mr. Dryden: --

The first physicians by debauch were made;

Excess began, and sloth sustained the trade.

By chase our long-lived fathers earned their food;

Toil strung the nerves, and purified the blood;

But we their sons, a pamper’d race of men

Are dwindled down to threescore years and ten.

Better to hunt in fields for health unbought

Than fee the doctor for a nauseous draught.

The wise for cure on exercise depend:

God never made His work for man to mend.

Picture by Teuku Jody Zulkarnaen

Respect your elders

“It happened in Athens, during a public representation of some play exhibited in honor of the commonwealth, that an old gentle man came too late for a seat suitable to his age and quality. Many of the young gentlemen, who observed the difficulty and confusion he was in, made signs to him that they would accommodate him if he came where they sat. The good man bustled through the crowd accordingly; but when he came to the seats to which he was invited, the jest was to sit close and expose him, as he stood, out of countenance, to the whole audience. The frolic went round all the Athenian benches. But on those occasions there were also particular places assigned for foreigners. When the good man skulked towards the boxes appointed for the Lacedaemonians, that honest people, more virtuous than polite, rose up all to a man, and with the greatest respect received him among them. The Athenians, being suddenly touched with a sense of the Spartan virtue and their own degeneracy, gave a thunder of applause; and the old man cried out, ‘The Athenians understand what is good, but the Lacedaemonians practice it.’”

This made me reflect that often we Christians think the world needs a counselor when in reality they need an example.

Joseph Addison, photo by Ian

"I advise you not to be troubled by what you hear of other folk's experience, but keep close to the written Word, where you will meet with much to encourage you though you often feel yourself weary and heavy laden. For my own part, I like that path best which is well beaten by the footsteps of the flock, though it is not always pleasant and strewed with flowers. In our way, we find some hills, from whence we can cheerfully look about us; but we meet with deep valleys likewise, and seldom travel long upon even ground." John Newton

I like this practical piece of advice, and have found it so in my life. There have been times when I sought after a deeper more mystical relationship with God and it may be I should have sought it more instead of leaving off for more common ground; but, be that as it may, I have found the well beaten path the safest ground and God has not been hindered by my choice, I find myself atop hills and mountains even though my destination was to walk on level ground.

Photo from the Internet

"Last week we had a lion in town. I went to see him. He was wonderfully tame; as familiar with his keeper, as docile and obedient as a spaniel. Yet the man told me he had his surly fits when they dared not touch him. No looking-glass could express my face more justly than this lion did my heart. I could trace every feature, as wild and fierce by nature, yea, much more so; but grace has in some measure tamed me; I know and love my Keeper and sometimes watch His looks that I may learn His will. But, oh! I have my surly fits too; seasons when I relapse into the savage again, as though I had forgotten all."

John Newton - Photo by Carlos Barriuso Amo

I was reading a chapter in "Plain Living and High Thinking" on 'what to talk about'.

It is a practical chapter and in it I found this poem by Cowper that encourages us as are minds are busy looking to and fro, to gather the good and to share it.

" The mind, dispatched upon her busy toil,

should range where Providence has blessed the soil;

Visiting every flower with labor meet,

and gathering all her treasures, sweet by sweet,

she should imbue the tongue with what she sips,

and shed the balmy blessing on the lips,

that good diffused may more abundant grow,

and speech may praise the Power that bids it flow."

Now regarding the photo, this is a picture of my grandson Nic while he was on his first missionary journey to visit a refugee camp on the Thai/Burma border. Surely this is soil blessed by Providence and the memory of this treasure is "sweet by sweet"; and wouldn't you know the Lord would bring along this delightful helpmate for his first journey.

God attends to all the details.

"The day arrives, the moment wished and feared;

The child is born, by many a pang endeared,

and now the mother's ear has caught the cry;

O grant the cherub to her asking eye!

He comes -- she clasps him. To her bosom pressed,

He drinks the balm of life, and drops to rest.

Her by her smile how soon the stranger knows;

How soon by his the glad discovery shows!

As to her lips she lifts the lovely boy,

what answering looks of sympathy and joy!

he walks, he speaks. In many a broken word

His wants, his wishes, and his griefs are heard.

And ever, ever to her lap he flies,

when rosy sleep comes on with sweet surprise.

Locked in her arms, his arms across her flung

(that name most dear forever on his tongue)

as with soft accents round her neck he clings,

and, cheek to cheek, her lulling song she sings,

how blest to feel the beatings of his heart,

breathe his sweet breath, and kiss for kiss impart.

Watch o'er his slumbers like the brooding dove,

and, if she can, exhaust a mother's love."

I ran across this piece on "Human Life", and thought this part on a mother's love captures it like few things I've ever read. So sweet, so tender. God's richest gift.

Samuel Rogers, photo by Tom Florres Sr.

I ran across this photo by Andre Torres and just had to share it. Man! the colors and composition of this photo just jump out. Oh to take a photo like this! These two ladies are from Viet Nam. Simply electric.

As Christians, we lose our way many times and at many seasons. The following piece by Samuel Johnson spells out the process as well as I've ever heard it. If you have missed your mark may this encourage you.

“Son,” said the hermit, “let the errors and follies, the dangers and escapes of this day sink deep into thy heart. Remember, my son, that human life is the journey of a day. We rise in the morning of youth, full of vigor, and full of expectation; we set forward with spirit and hope, with gayety and with diligence, and travel on a while in the straight road of piety towards the mansions of rest. In a short time we remit our fervor, and endeavor to find some mitigation of our duty, and some more easy means of obtaining the same end. We then relax our vigor, and resolve no longer to be terrified with crimes at a distance, but rely upon our own constancy, and venture to approach what we resolved never to touch. We thus enter the bowers of ease, and repose in the shades of security. Here the heart softens, and vigilance subsides; we are then willing to enquire whether another advance cannot be made, and whether we may not, at least, turn our eyes upon the gardens of pleasure. We approach them with scruple and hesitation; we enter them, but enter timorous and trembling; and always hope to pass through them without losing the road of virtue, which we, for a while, keep in our sight, and to which we propose to return. But temptation succeeds temptation, and one compliance prepares us for another; we in time lose the happiness of innocence, and solace our disquiet with sensual gratifications. By degrees we let fall the remembrance of our original intention, and quit the only adequate object of rational desire. We entangle ourselves in business, immerge ourselves in luxury, and rove through the labyrinths of inconstancy, till the darkness of old age begins to invade us, and disease and anxiety obstruct our way. We then look back upon our lives with horror, with sorrow, with repentance; and wish, but too often vainly wish, that we had not forsaken the ways of virtue. Happy are they, my son, who shall learn from the example not to despair but shall remember, that though the day is past, and their strength is wasted, there yet remains one effort to be made; that reformation is never hopeless, nor sincere endeavors every unassisted; that the wanderer may at length return after all his errors; and that he who implores strength and courage from above, shall find danger and difficulty give way before him. Go now, my son, to thy repose; commit thyself to the care of Omnipotence; and when the morning calls again to toil, begin anew thy journey and thy life.”

Samuel Johnson, photo by Yiannis G.

Contrasts

Photo by John Crosley

In the last week the scripture 2Cor. 1:5 “For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ”, has captured my attention. I began to ponder, ‘what are the sufferings of Christ today?’. During His earthly ministry he suffered many ways, physically and emotionally, but today the physical sufferings have ceased, so as I began to consider what might His sufferings be today and what does it mean to have the abundant sufferings of Christ today.

We know there are thousands living in countries where faith in Christ is considered illegal and people suffer, in some cases brutally, for Christ. Surely this is to share in the sufferings of Christ. But for those where no persecution exists, is there another application? I think there is, and I think it applies to the emotional and spiritual suffering that Christ and all of heaven suffers today as a result of sin; wars, oppression, greed, addictions, poverty and each of us can add to the list of evils that pervade our cultures. As I watched “Precious” the other night I was keenly aware that the emotions of compassion and sorrow were in this day the “sufferings of Christ”, rising up in me. Just like two thousand years ago when Jesus would rescue Israel by gathering them under His wings; and as He wept over Jerusalem, these sufferings go on in His heart today and we are to share in those sufferings. We may never be persecuted for our faith but we shall suffer for all those in the bonds of wickedness if we truly share in the sufferings of Christ.

So as 2Cor. 1:7 says that the believers in Corinth shared in Paul’s sufferings, we are today to share the sufferings of Christ, so also we are sharers of His comfort.”

To sum up, like the old hymn “In The Garden” states ---”I’d stay in the garden with Him, tho the night around me be falling; but He bids me go, thru the voice of woe, His voice to me is calling.” Yes, His voice is calling through the voice of woe, and I think this is His suffering today, and we are to share in it.

Photo by Maciej Dakowicz

I watched the movie “Precious” last night. It is the story of extreme abuse, the world that few live in but a reality for some that most of us cannot even imagine. The story is heart wrenching and defies description. When watching it is hard to imagine such parental madness but a percentage of the men at the center come out of this mad distortion of human behavior. At one point a warm “peace-maker”, pictured below, speaks of the power of love only to be rebuked by the victim quoting the evils that have come to her through those that “love” her. It was a powerful and moving show with acting almost too real and graphic. I found myself yearning throughout much of the movie just to reach out and hold the victim, somehow to rescue her from her world of perversity. I think it is an adult movie that every adult Christian should see; it’s a peek into the sin crazed laboratory where drug abuse, violence, suicide and all manner of evils are birthed and conjured.

In the midst of what seems to be the overcoming power of naked evil, the movie is filled with subtleties where goodness and love begin to take root and feeble attempts to imitate them begin. To watch this movie is to share in "the sufferings of Christ" as He and all of heaven suffer as they watch this dramatic battle of good and evil play out. Watching this white field that desperately needs workers of love to come and rescue. Sadly the workers are few but even the little that is portrayed, and that by flawed servants, takes root.

Matt and Eric, I think you will both see this as a learning movie and come away with insights helpful in the work you do and have done.

Too disturbing for those under 18 in my opinion.

Pictures from the Internet