Competition in christians

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Competition in Christians a ruinous spirit Doug Blair C. 2014, Waterloo, ON

Contend for the Faith

He said it, Jude One chapter’s worth And noble did it seem To take up arms for doctrine’s sake With unity the dream So can’t you just believe like me For long I studied firm Quite clear the package seemingly But you friend, make me squirm. I know you name the name of Christ I know you love the Cross I know you lean on Spirit’s help I know you suffer loss For clinging to your closest Friend When all the world turns sour You trust the blood, a cleansing flood You know forgiveness’ power.


That is enough to bind the cords I put away my blade I’m here for you, a Brother true Forgive the rift pride made. And timely this, your friendly call To me, deluded know-it-all.

Nasty Christians Need to Know

I shouldn’t need to change you I shouldn’t need to pound. Perhaps you’ve been mistreated And left with hurts profound Perhaps you met a Christian Who cut you to the core Or left you feeling dirty And second-rate for sure. My job is not the doctrine To cram into your heart. My job is dauntless loving That sets His Church apart. The kind that walked the seaside And bid the hurting near The kind that healed the wounded And took away death’s fear. He didn’t need agreement He didn’t need to win He simply showed a kindness That made men loathe their sin.


And He is all my pattern And He is all my pride. And He is waiting near you To put His Love inside. Rant Why can’t you just listen? Why can’t you just pause? I hurt and I want to explode. There’s nobody else here. I’ve come just to you To rant and release this hard load. But you have your Gospel And hurt once or twice And think that you now have the cure. This challenge is ugly I burn in its fire, A fire that you say makes me pure. Don’t be smugly certain It all goes away. Look down…see my guts on the floor.


I wanted compassion. I wanted a friend. Not platitudes heard oft’ before. But now comes a new thing Do I see some tears That trickle and moisten the cheek? Yes, just what I needed A listening heart Who knows what it’s like to be weak.

My Little Ones These little ones Have known my name They’re oh so quick to call At point of need When darkness comes When threatened with a fall. Not big on self Supremely poor In spirit, they confess. And that’s their strength They run to me That all my power might bless. And many tried the bluster And posed the fashion’s way


And earned and learned Things over-turned Before the end of day. So now they give me one eye And never stray too long Their only care That I am there. My help, their trust and song.

Church Woman: Saint in Progress I don’t know much theology The Rector is my source And he is oh so studied And helps me keep on course. The Morning Prayer refreshing And oft’ the bread and wine And words rehearsed a lifetime To tend a soul like mine. I sew and wash bazaar goods And visit frail shut-ins And gather toys and children’s books To counter-act my sins. And Yule and Paschal colours Adorn our church quite well For seasons festive, Christ-filled From age to age to tell. But much is still a mystery The saving part, I mean The bloody rites, and Paul’s insights Somehow cleaner than clean? And scripture makes me tremble I hardly pick it up Once suffered, Confirmation I’m trusting in the Cup.


It’s spiritual they tell me God’s ways above all ours But we can make it pleasant With brilliant cards and flowers. So hopeful that I tally The sum of pardon’s price But please, someone explain to me That “finished work” of Christ? (Hebrews chapters 9 and 10)

Bloodied Cobblestones

Those stones had heard the children’s cries Hosanna to the King A donkey brought the Man of Peace To hear Jerusalem sing. But soon a dreaded whipping post Placed on some others stones Would hear the soldiers’ hateful jeers And Mercy’s gasps and moans. And blood would leave the Vessel pure And pay sin’s awful cost. A Mother wipes the crimson ground


To salvage what she’s lost.

Onward Soldiers...Christian?

Into the Levant And for what? Coasts of Lebanon To our right The driest of lands at the left And Jerusalem weeks away. Our standard is dusty. The horses chafe. And every item of attire Abuses us in this heat. No reason yet for weapons The heavy weapons. Water bottles prove Our main salvation. How different Everything seemed When the Bishop visited Milan And excitement, colour


And music beautified the square. Pressed us with images Of sacred things In the hands of The Christ-less. Is that their fault? Did they choose To be born there? Had anything else Ever stirred the pulse Like Allah? We have drills Dusty, choking drills Keeping fighting routines sharp. But the dysentery wears at us. And Islam sits, prays Waits comfortably For our shaky appearance. The blood, the shrieks The fire and tumult Haunt our dreams. Can this really be A chosen venture For the glory and recompense Of our gentle Storyteller Of Galilee? Was the Bishop wrong? His motives pure? The shop and family Are so far away.


The Abundant Life

Some of the “things go better with Christ” testimonies disappoint me. Their perception of blessing is so shallow; is so geared toward what is going on with other people in fellowship. Jesus said that He had come to bring life more abundantly. The devil had only come to steal, enslave, deceive and destroy. What is this abundant life? I remember the Abundant Life Conferences in Kitchener of years ago. They were a tremendous blessing! The initiative of Mahlon and Pearl Roes assisted many people into the Kingdom of God, myself included. Before going any further I would urge each reader to consider Paul’s account of the life in 2 Corinthians 11. He started his Christian experience being stricken blind, being lowered out a window in a basket to escape capture and being hounded by Jewish brethren who saw him as an affront to the God of Moses. The list in chapter 11 includes beatings, stoning, derisions, shipwrecks, exposure to elements, bandits, betrayal, floggings and fastings. His life will conclude on the chopping block of Emperor Nero. So what was it in this champion’s life that was abundant? He knew his destination of joy. He knew his Elder Brother and Forerunner Jesus as a present friend. He knew that his pardon was assured by grace bringing an end to draining self-doubt. He had experienced the intimate fellowship of suffering for Christ’s sake. His associations were all free of the handicaps of judgment, competition or bitterness. He saw the marvelous out-workings of Providence so many times and had absolutely no doubt as to God’s benevolence. He rejoiced in the birthing of new believers and never tired of proclaiming the Good News. He rested in a magnificent singleness of purpose. All of these blessings were certain whether or not he was experiencing material comfort or social acceptance. He said that he had learned to be content in any set of circumstances. Probably the high point comes in his exclamations in Philippians 3. Read the chapter. We must also learn that in the New Testament, life is not a passage or experience; rather it is a commodity discovered in the True Vine (John 15) and imparted by the Saviour. Enjoyed


forever.


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