Sunday, August 17, 2008

Be Glorified

Be glorified in me, Oh Lord
Be glorified in me
Cast the wretched man away
And plant a fruitful tree.

Be exalted through me, Oh Lord
Be exalted through me
Don't let me boast in my own way
But bring me prostrate at your feet.

Be merciful to me, Oh Lord
Be merciful to me
Let Your mercy abound today
So my spirit can then be free.

Proverbs 18

Before destruction the heart of man is haughty,
And before honor is humility.



A fool has no delight in understanding,
But in expressing his own heart.



A rich man's wealth is his strong city,
And it is like a high wall in his own esteem.

Friday, August 15, 2008

Hebrews Twelve, Pauls Vision of the Race




The stage was set, the starting line pulled,

And thousands of racers where preparing to go.

No ordinary race, but one with a bid,

Fall into torment, or finish and live.



In the mob of strong and fit men,

Stands a young racer, who's trembling instead.

"The race is so far, and I don't feel that strong.

My confidence wavers. Can I go for that long?"

But then the bell chimed, It was now time to run,

The mob surged forward, and the man was just one.

"Lord be with me." The man said under his breath,

Then he exhaled strong, and took his first step.

For hours the racers fell by the side,

As those who were strong

Became weak in there minds.




And sin, the most vigorous competitor of all,

Grabbed at the racers and caused them to fall.

The man felt exhausted, could he really last,

The mightiest athletes he had already past.

So another fast prayer he said in his head,

"If you've chosen me, give me strength over sin.

Give me the endurance to finish the race,

To run from my sin and take in first place."






As he prayed, he felt courage within,

He leaned over strong and sprinted again.

He passed sin up with a valient charge,

And there was the finish line, looming massive and large.




This was the end, it was down to just two,

And sin was coming on strong, the man didn't know what to do.

He felt a hand grab him, and he almost fell down,

But he kept his eyes on the prize, his heart started to pound.




"Lord, if I'm chosen, be my might in this day."
And just as he said it, his arms pulled away.

He lunged for the end, and the rope was torn.

Then came a shout, a trumpet, a horn.




He made it to the end, he now had been saved.

And as the angels rejoiced, he was awed and amazed.

Then he felt a gentle hand pull him aside.

"Well done my child, I'll now call you mine."

Sunday, July 6, 2008

Beatitude

"Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted." - With each beatitude the gulf is widened between the disciples and the people, their call to come forth from the people becomes increasingly manifest. By "mourning" Jesus, of course, means doing without what the world calls peace and prosperity: He means refusing to be in tune with the world or to accommodate oneself to its standards. Such men mourn for the world, for its guilt, its fate and its fortune. . . The world dreams of progress, of power and of the future, but the disciples meditate on the end, the last judgement, and the coming of the precious Kingdom. To such heights the world cannot rise. And so the disciples are strangers in the world, unwelcome guests and disturbers of the peace. - Dietrich Bonhoeffer (from The Cost of Discipleship)

Friday, July 4, 2008

Cheap Grace

More and more I find that the profession of Christ has become a profession of culture. That the Lord that is revealed in the Bible is being softened by men through their own claim to fames. The name of God, "The I Am," which is so revered by the Jews, and which name Jesus holds the claim to, is reduced to mere iconic culture. In an effort to make the "Gospel" more appealing, more listenable, and more acceptable, men have lowered the standard that God himself set; not just by taking his name down to our level, but taking his holiness down to human level, taking his sovereignty down to human level. We have turned aside from the true and real God of the Bible, even Jesus, and replaced Him with a Jesus and a gospel that is received by all. But, we should be weary about the popularity of Jesus' name. He himself said that he would be hated of all men. Hated! Not just disliked. The reality is that the more our church system and its leaders have made Christ, the gospel and God appealing to men the less of God their is in it.

But why has this happened? Perhaps it is as John Macarthur states, "People like the idea of believing in God, they even applaud it, as long as it is not the God of the Bible. Because once you affirm the God of the Bible, you get the God of the Bible. You get the law of the God of the Bible, you get the commandments of the God of the Bible, you get the morrality of the God of the Bible, you get the justice of the God of the Bible, you get the righteousness of the God of the Bible, and you get the punishment of the God of the Bible. . . . . But men love their sin! And many religions will not infringe upon that. Only the God of the Bible."

Many church institution and its leaders have so desired the acceptance of the world that the things stated by John Macarthur have slowly been escorted out the door. We are no longer under the law, pastors say. But this is really a twisting of scripture. We are not under the "Old" law, but the "new" one which is Christ, and he puts the old law on our hearts as the spirit convicts us. Morality has deteriorated in the church. This is affectuated by the term Cheap Grace, which is really cheap salvation. That it wasn't that big of a deal that Christ died for me, I'm not that bad. . . It has become more of an insurance than a way of life. But in 1 John 1:6 it says that, "If you say that you're in the light, but walk in darkness, you lie." That means that Christ becomes our everything, not just a tag along, culture accepted, icon. Even God's justice is diminished, because we exalt his Love far above all his other attributes, even though they all hold the same importance. We have disfigured the real God so much that it would be hard to tell the difference between a buddhist and a Christain. We have labeled Christ as an acceptor of all men. But he doesn't accept all men. He has come to seek and to save the lost, the sinner (that is, the sinner that admits he's a sinner). What is he saving them from? Death for sure, but in all reality, their sin. That is to say, he is transforming them from servants of sin to servants of God. For if they call themselves Christ's but still sin with an unrepentant heart, then their salvation is folly, and Christ's death is mocked.

What we need to do is to repent! To turn from the world, and not try to be accepted by the Great Majority. We need to preach the God of the Bible. We need to hold fast to His laws, His commands, His justice and His righteousness. For all else is vanity, and a pursuit which ends in death.

Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Vision


The morning had crossed the sky like a perfect rainbow. The weather was warm and even the dew on the flowers was drying. In fact, it was hot enough that my friend, Elijah, phoned earlier that morning and requested we meet at a local church to go rollerblading. I must say, however, that it had been years since I had rollerbladed. But, none the less, inspite of my lack of experience, I agreed to meet him and go.

Now as the day ambered on in slow progression, like the rythmic ticking of the clock, I found myself in a state of total boredom. Being unmotivated to do anything else, I chose to venture down to the church, before the time I was to meet Elijah.

So, I walked. The hill was gradual from the house, and beautiful views of green, forested hillside attracted the attention of my eye. They rolled in magnificent splendor through autumn colored valleys. There, of course, was the house on my left. The old, abandoned mansion, taken by vines and bushes, like a spider had woven a web of greenery across the face of this house. Since, I had passed this house hundreds of times, I thought nothing of it, and continued on, forgetting about it until much later in the day.

At the church, a large congregation in the downtown area of the city, I managed to make my way inside the foley and back toward a youth hall. There, in the afluent and prospering church, I came across a well-known pastor at the church. With him was two of his own co-pastors. Now, being as socially gracious to these men as possible, I inquired as to their business.

"A concert!" Cried the pastor, pointing to a small add of his in the local magazine. I could sense the irritation in his voice. As soon as I did, he said, "It's too small."

He was right. The add was inbetween another add to the church, and a coupon for a local restaraunt. He quickly gestured to me and asked, "What do you think?"

"I don't know, it is pretty small."

Again he looked at me, and smiled. "Well, we can fix it later." He said. "We've got to go."

When I was about to ask where, Elijah walked through the doors and grabbed me, saying, "there you are." As quickly as he'd come we were on our way out the door, and putting on our rollerblades. After only a moment we were heading down the street. We hadn't gotten around the corner when someone came rushing over on rollerblades too. A stout man with a kind smile. I got a better glance. It was a good friend of mine and a related cousin.

He stood there starring and then finally spoke, "Can I come along?"

Elijah and I both shrugged our shoulders, as if to say why not.

So, up this city hill we began. At first, it wound its way through the conjestion of busy street corners and high offices. But after a time, I found the bustling streets had transformed into quiet countryside. I was enchanted by the solitude of our ride. We were deep in the wooded forest above the city. Twisting and winding our way up an even steeper hill. The trees loomed above us like skyscrapers, and because of their thick foliage, little light passed through their covering. But the light that did seep through danced hypnotically across the air, like candles flickering about in the wind.

About this time, I came out of my amazement with the forest and noticed an ever growing group of people riding bikes, rollerblading, walking and coming up the hill in all manners of methods. It appeared that they were heading toward an opening in the steep hill. A cavern!

As I got closer to the opening I stopped. To my side was a deep shaft that seemed to fall into an endless abyss. As I looked at it in awe I lost my balance and nearly tumbled into the hole, but Elijah caught my fall, at which time my cousin piped up and said, "That's the old mine shaft, don't want to fall into that. Let's go on up there." He pointed to the opening in the hill, and to all the people that were entering.

My friends weren't hesitant in the slightest bit to enter in. So, we followed behind the group of people and waited our turn to enter the narrow way in to the cave. Inside the cavern, it opened up and a long pathway could be seen dug deeper into the edge of the hill. Lights had been spread across the roof of the cave so the people coming in could see. And as I walked further in, I noticed a bright light ahead, through a door. I came closer, entering it, suddenly the room expanded, rising two and three stories high; a magnificent attrium, with beautiful paintings on the ceiling and carvings on the wall. Here the crowds conjested. There were rows of pews. All were filled except the one row to my left.

Behind me I heard Elijah say hello. When I turned to see who it was, to my amazement, it was the pastors we had seen down at the church (but what were they doing here?). They shook hands and then filed into the pew to my left. Elijah followed and sat down beside them filling up the rest of the seats. Suddenly, I realized I had no where to sit. So, as awkward as it was, I stood in the isle, as people tried to bussle around me.

I looked to the man on my left and asked what this place was. He was older and had aged hands with wide wrinkles and deep scars. He replied to me in a kind way.

"This is a church!" He rubbed his chin. "It was built many years ago, when I was a boy." He leaned back in the seat, thinking about the past. "You see, along time ago, ages and ages, a boy stumbled into a deep shaft outside of his mansion high on the hill. The one that is now overgrown with bushes and vines. He almost lost his footing and stumbled into the abyss, when his sister pushed her way into the shaft and grabbed him. But although the event was certainly frightful, the boy showed no fear. He quickly responded to the girl that the large cavern would be their hiding place. As they looked around, it became clear that it was a mine shaft with chains and ropes holding pullies and wheel barrows high into the air of the cavern. Over the years his hard working hands have turned it into this underground church."

"Who comes here?" I asked.

The old man looked at me with a stare that penetrated. "Oh. . . ! There are too many to seat in here. They come from all over. That's why, as you can see, it is a never ending service. To accomodate all the people." He smiled.

With that, the old man stood to his feet and walked down the isle, leaving me his seat. . . . . .