Kneading Bread

Praise for the Incarnation
by John Newton

Sweeter sounds than music knows
Charm me in Immanuel’s name;
All her hopes my spirit owes
To his birth, and cross, and shame.

When he came, the angels sung,
“Glory be to God on high;”
Lord, unloose my stamm’ring tongue,
Who should louder sing than I?

Did the Lord a man become,
That he might the law fulfil,
Bleed and suffer in my room,
And canst thou, my tongue, be still?

No, I must my praises bring,
Though they worthless are and weak;
For should I refuse to sing,
Sure the very stones would speak.

O my Saviour, Shield, and Sun,
Shepherd, Brother, Husband, Friend,
Ev’ry precious name in one,
I will love thee without end.

Dec. 25.

The Indians having been used upon Christmas days to drink and revel among some of the white people in these parts, I thought it proper this day to call them together, and discourse to them upon divine things: which I accordingly did from the parable of the barren fig-tree, Luke xiii. 6-9. A divine influence, I am persuaded, accompanied the word at this season. The power of God appeared in the assembly, not by producing any remarkable cries, but by shocking and rousing at heart, as it seemed, several stupid creatures that were scarce ever moved with any concern before. The power attending divine truths seemed to have the influence of the earthquake rather than the whirlwind upon them. Their passions were not so much alarmed as has been common here in times past, but their judgments appeared to be powerfully convinced by the masterly and conquering influence of divine truths. The impressions made upon the assembly in general, seemed not superficial, but deep and heart-affecting. O how ready did they now appear universally to embrace and comply with every thing they heard and were convinced was duty! God was in the midst of us of a truth, bowing and melting stubborn hearts! How many tears and sobs were then to be seen and heard among us! What liveliness and strict attention, what eagerness and intenseness of mind, appeared in the whole assembly in the time of divine service! They seemed to watch and wait for the dropping of God’s word, as the thirsty earth for the “former and latter rain.”
Afterwards I discoursed to them on the duty of husbands and wives, from Eph. v. 22, 23. and have reason to think this was a word in season. Spent some time further in the evening, in inculcating the truths I had insisted upon in my former discourse respecting the barren fig-tree, and observed a powerful influence still accompany what was spoken.

Tim Challies mentioned a story from the Telegraph that piqued my interest. The story is of a British stewardess who was told she could not bring her Bible with her on flights to Saudi Arabia. While the Foreign Office in Britain may not cringe when it writes these words, it certainly strikes fear into my heart:

The importation and use of narcotics, alcohol, pork products and religious books, apart from the Koran, and artefacts are forbidden.

The reason why this causes such fear in my heart is that it has historical parallels. In Japan, before the “opening” of the country, the Dutch had exclusive trade relations with Japan. One of stipulations of this trade agreement was that there would be no Bibles brought into the country. The typical practice was to take all of the Bibles that were on board a ship and place them into a barrel and seal it before arriving. The more the world changes, the more the same strong-arm tactics stay the same.

More reading: Status of religious freedom in Saudi Arabia (from wikipedia)

The environment, long an issue relegated to the “left,” has become increasingly important to a wider spectrum in the church. It is an issue that reaches across denominations (or at least it should.) I just pray that the SBC gets further along than many other denominations, which have played lip-service to the environment without any actual changes to their church’s practice. So, to you who might hold sway at any denomination, give this subject it’s due care, attention and action. In Mohler’s words:

“We’re going to have to give an answer to God for our stewardship of creation,” Mohler said. “That’s where an evangelical environmentalism has to begin. Our environmental approach has to begin with the fact that we’ll be judged and we’ll have to give an answer for what we did with this gift that God has given us.”

from this article.

ICS – Irratible Clergy Syndrome – That nice young preacher spends a couple of years in what should be an idyllic setting only to become cranky and miserable. Why? Well, now you have your answer. I think the reality is far greater than the study indicates, the reporter writes:

Dr Savage says one of the problems is that churches are hierarchical systems, with all the attendant echoes of feudal society. Thus they elicit bad behaviour such as status seeking, fawning, bullying, passivity, blaming others and gossiping.

The one thing I have to say is, Church isn’t supposed to be hierarchical – we make it that way. The other issues are sins, which isn’t surprising as we’re all sinful, maybe the secret to fixing some of this is to call a spade a spade, instead of hiding it in jargon. Anyway, the article makes a good point, but I can only pray that the anglicans (as well as the whole church) can figure out the most kingdom-centered way to deal with it.

Well, I just started a new job that is much more flexible (and without the three hour total commute.) I pray God would use this to prepare me for my eventual time at seminary. That this time is a gift! Please pray for me, and I will get back into posting. Peace!

Bob Dylan may not be a theologian, but his lyrics never go out of style… and neither do the problems he’s writing about. I was just overwhelmed last night reading the coverage of the Iraq war. All I can do is know that this is an age of pain, but an age of Glory is coming. The tension between peace/reconciliation and justice never seem to be played out in this era.

Masters of War

Come you masters of war
You that build all the guns
You that build the death planes
You that build the big bombs
You that hide behind walls
You that hide behind desks
I just want you to know
I can see through your masks

You that never done nothin’
But build to destroy
You play with my world
Like it’s your little toy
You put a gun in my hand
And you hide from my eyes
And you turn and run farther
When the fast bullets fly

Like Judas of old
You lie and deceive
A world war can be won
You want me to believe
But I see through your eyes
And I see through your brain
Like I see through the water
That runs down my drain

You fasten the triggers
For the others to fire
Then you set back and watch
When the death count gets higher
You hide in your mansion
As young people’s blood
Flows out of their bodies
And is buried in the mud

You’ve thrown the worst fear
That can ever be hurled
Fear to bring children
Into the world
For threatening my baby
Unborn and unnamed
You ain’t worth the blood
That runs in your veins

How much do I know
To talk out of turn
You might say that I’m young
You might say I’m unlearned
But there’s one thing I know
Though I’m younger than you
Even Jesus would never
Forgive what you do

Let me ask you one question
Is your money that good
Will it buy you forgiveness
Do you think that it could
I think you will find
When your death takes its toll
All the money you made
Will never buy back your soul

And I hope that you die
And your death’ll come soon
I will follow your casket
In the pale afternoon
And I’ll watch while you’re lowered
Down to your deathbed
And I’ll stand o’er your grave
‘Til I’m sure that you’re dead

Copyright © 1963; renewed 1991 Special Rider Music