Thursday, November 22, 2007

Thankful

What I'm thankful for-

Freedoms-
Reading, writing, free to watch television, freedom to speak, freedom to worship, free to disagree
Family-
Wife, Mom, Dad, Brother, sister, grandparents, great grandmother, aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws
Food-
spinach, chicken, steak, fruits, veggies, sweet potatoes, chocolate chip cookies, and COFFEE
Friends-
Amy, Chase, Nathan, Mom, Dad, Granparents, Billie, Achim, IWU Grounds
Finances-
Student loans, Federal Grants, my social security, parental support, and divine intervention
Future-
my child
Faith-
saved from sins, given sight, sancitified slowly, hoping for heaven, living my Call

Saturday, November 17, 2007

The Stranger Of Galilee

In fancy I stood by the shore, one day,Of the beautiful murm’ring sea;
I saw the great crowds as they thronged the wayOf the Stranger of Galilee;
I saw how the man who was blind from birth,In a moment was made to see;
The lame was made whole by the matchless skillOf the Stranger of Galilee.

And I felt I could love Him forever,
So gracious and tender was He!
I claimed Him that day as my Savior,
This Stranger of Galilee.


His look of compassion, His words of love,They shall never forgotten be;
When sin sick and helpless He saw me there,This Stranger of Galilee;
He showed me His hand and His riven side,And He whispered, “It was for thee!”
My burden fell off at the piercèd feetOf the Stranger from Galilee.

I heard Him speak peace to the angry waves,Of that turbulent, raging sea;
And lo! at His word are the waters stilled,This Stranger of Galilee;
A peaceful, a quiet, and holy calm,Now and ever abides with me;
He holdeth my life in His mighty hands,This Stranger of Galilee.

Come ye who are driven, and tempest tossed,And His gracious salvation see;
He’ll quiet life’s storms with His “Peace, be still!”This Stranger of Galilee;
He bids me to go and the story tell—What He ever to you will be,
If only you let Him with you abide,This Stranger of Galilee.

Oh, my friend, won’t you love Him forever?
So gracious and tender is He!
Accept Him today as your Savior,
This Stranger of Galilee.


(words and music by Leila Morris - available at
http://www.cyberhymnal.com/ )

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

By His Wounds.... And Ours

But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.
Isaiah 53:5
He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed.
1 Peter 2:24



Much has been written in regard to the healing power of the wounds of Christ. Indeed, much of Christian theology acknowledges the healing power of those stripes he bore. No matter one’s view of atonement, this much is clear: there is a power to heal that is found in Christ’s sufferings. After all, it was the wounds of Jesus Christ that brought about the redemption humanity, according to most orthodox theology. It was the wounds of Christ that healed the doubt of the disciple Thomas. It is to that beaten figure upon the cross that much of the suffering world looks to for hope. In this Jesus of the Cross, battered and beaten, we have found a priest and pastor who knows our pain. We have found a lamb that will willingly approach the altar. We have found a King who will triumph over our pain and torment by conquering it himself.

Yet, what of our pain? Is it redemptive as well? Does the one who suffers from depression, suffering through the days in his or her dark bedroom, offer something to this world that redeems it. Does the mother, whose son died in a lost overseas war, suffer in a way that brings liberation to the rest of us? Does the young man, whose once athletic body is slowly eaten away by cancer, provide any grace to those around him? The answer would seem to be yes. However, it does depend on how one suffers.

Take Mother Theresa for example. In her we find a woman who will be canonized in all likelihood by the Roman Catholic Church. She was a woman who gave nearly all of her best years to the service of the poorest of the poor (and many of her worst years, as we have come to discover). All the while she held fast to the faith handed down to her, even when it seemed to bea faith of impossibility. It seems safe to say that she came as neat to living out the life of Christ as any modern celebrity of the Church. Yet, in recent years we have learned that she was a woman who suffered with overwhelming and magnificent doubts. Her seeming near loss of faith has been well documented (http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/november/13.23.html#related http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2007/septemberweb-only/138-12.0.html ) so I will not dive into it any further. There is a very real sense, however, in which these personal struggles seem only to strengthen her resolve and her power to heal. After, her death she would come to be eulogized as a woman who had brought healing to the slums and gutters of Calcutta, and to the world at large.
We should take note, however, that it was not her sufferings in and of themselves that brought relief to a city on the brink, but it was those sufferings rightly understood. The deeper the darkness drew in around her, the more tenaciously she seemed to hold to the core of her faith. She, herself, penned, “ I do not know how much deeper will this trial go—how much pain and suffering it will bring to me. This does not worry me any more. I leave this to him as I leave everything else. I want to become a saint according to the heart of Jesus—meek and humble. That is all that really matters to me now” (ibid).
For her then, and for us now, the most powerful prayer we might pray is that of the Apostle Paul who wrote, “For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things … that I may share his sufferings, becoming like him in death" (Philippians 3: 8,10).
In the end we must realize that we are not members of a faith that is the enemy of suffering. Yet, we are members of a faith in which our Lord, Jesus Christ sanctifies it. After all, it was through his wounds that we are healed. It is by our own wounds that we minister (Henri Nouwan would be proud). If we cannot approach our own sufferings with gladness, let us at least approach them with peace. For by His stripes we are healed. By our sufferings we may share in his sufferings. By our suffering in Him we may proclaim what it really is to heal and to redeem.