POVERTY IN THE RICH supposed success without Christ copyright Doug Blair, Waterloo ON, 2016
Are You Far Off?
In Isaiah 57:19 the following is stated: I create the fruit of the lips; Peace, peace to him that is far off, and to him that is near, saith the Lord; and I will heal him. God makes no progress in the one who thinks that peace is at hand in the ways and rewards of the world. Better the one who honestly despairs of the absence of inner, spiritual tranquility. Jesus reminds us that there is blessing to the one who is poor in spirit. His is the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 5:3). Oswald Chambers referred to the "door of destitution". I remember reading a book of revival sermons by Brownlow North (1810-1875) entitled "The Rich Man and Lazarus" (Banner of Truth Publications). He meditated on the comparative situation of the two men who died in Luke 16. It appeared that the rich man left a large estate, a sumptuous table and a notable reputation among men to enter into torments and thirst at death. The pauper Lazarus was carried away to the exact opposite. I am reminded of the warning in Psalm 49: 16, 17: Be not thou afraid when one is made rich, when the glory of his house is increased. For when he dieth he shall carry nothing away: his glory shall not descend after him. North suggested that this would probably be the greatest source of torment to the rich man; that he had lived to demonstrate to younger brothers, friends, employees and sharecroppers that life could contain bounty, peace and satisfaction without Christ. The man who claimed that peace was near, had none of it. North had experienced this very truth earlier at age forty-four; a child of privilege, carefree from toil. Taken chronically ill he was convinced that he was going to die without elements of redeeming faith or service to his account. Memories of sport, excess and carousing haunted him, but mostly his failure to speak good words of
Christ and to explore honestly the religious impressions of youth. He repented and was raised from his bed an awakened man and eventually an evangelist. Do you perceive that you have a peace apart from Christ? Beware, you will find that you are hanging from a cobweb over torments. While you breathe there is yet time.
The Rich Man's Death I could have blessed the beggar Found daily near my door And never missed the outlay With always plenty more. And brought him to my wardrobe And dressed him in last year’s. And filled his aching belly And washed away his tears.
But fashion held me captive And closed the hand of grace For fear of colleagues’ censure For need to know my place. A privilege come from family, And shored up for one’s heirs, Not soon to heed a pauper Not soon to bless his prayers.
Just yesterday they told me He sighed his final breath. But still I hear his calling Despite the unsung death. “The good Lord, this. The good Lord, that.” Would season every phrase. Perchance he’s gone up laughing To meet Him face-to-face.
And I am left the poorer For lack of showing love. Alas, not mine the blessing That he secures above. Yes, his a peace unworldly Not seen in all the rest. The pain now comes intensely. “My lot, my loss, MY CHEST!�
Bless the Rod
prophet joel by michelangelo
Did I not send the quaking earth? Did I not send the storm? Did I not send the hostile band? Tearfully, bring the harm? All for the hope to call you back Back to my law and love Back to the harmony of right Just as I have above. But you would flee to other gods But you would miss my reign But you would have the chaos come Ending in dearth and shame. Still I will call for better ways
Still I will urge a fast Still I will send the Saviour Babe Mine is a love that lasts.
Divine Softening
Beneath Thy Cross AM I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, O Christ, beneath thy cross, To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss, And yet not weep? Not so those women loved Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; Not so the thief was moved; Not so the Sun and Moon Which hid their faces in a starless sky, A horror of great darkness at broad noon-I, only I. Yet give not o'er, But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock; Greater than Moses, turn and look once more And smite a rock. Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
Short Ride The renowned heart surgeon had 9 year old Ronnie and his Mother in the consultation room. “Son, day after tomorrow I will do an exploratory on your heart. We will give you medicine so that you will go to sleep and feel no discomfort. We will use very precise instruments to open up the area and study the condition of your heart. It is a large and very important pumping muscle with 4 chambers. What do you think we will find in there. Our observations will determine what we are going to do on another day soon.” “Well Doctor I know for sure that when you look in there you will find Jesus. Just like the songs say.”
The Physician paused, not knowing quite how to respond. Certainly Jesus would not be carrying the day for those delicate three hours. He would, and his 32 years of experience.
“That’s interesting Son, but I would rather focus on the mechanics of this thing. What do you think I will find?”
“I’m sorry Sir, I don’t know about that stuff, but I do know for sure that Jesus is in there and that He looks out for me and makes me happy. I know that you will do your best.”
The Mother sat there quietly and respectfully with a neutral sort of expression on her face. The Doctor could not help but conclude that she or her Husband had given the little fellow a lot of “pie in the sky” coaching. This irritated him. He remembered all the “religion talk” from his wife. Gone now these past 4 years from cancer.
The surgery was done the next day completely by the book. The discoveries were very disappointing. Inoperable. Too much waste in one so young. Probably no more than 9 months left for Ronnie. He envisioned that sad and darkening season. Sitting at his desk, he heard his inner voice saying, “OK Jesus this kid thinks he belongs to you; that you are his Shepherd, I suppose. Why such a lousy prognosis for this little Lamb, eh? Are you in charge or not?”
The office, cluttered with diplomas, awards and memorable photos, was dark except for the one small desk lamp. Silence for about 20 seconds.
And then just as if he heard another Voice, “Phil, I am that Shepherd and my flock begins where you are, and comes to a place much more glorious without pain or fear or regret or death. Sometimes I feel strongly that a little one should come to me face-to-face at a time much earlier than most; that he has gotten the Message; that he does not need exposure to a world of strife or unbelief any longer; that his words and demeanour and confidence might draw in some other wayward sheep. Ronnie’s parents will join him some day in glad reunion. It’s about time that you understood this. I have been waiting.”
Phil’s hands were shaking on his desk blotter.
The next afternoon at about two-thirty he met with both parents. The nine year
old was having a visit with his Aunt.
“Folks I went in. I found some very serious damage. I will not be able to operate to any significant degree of improvement. I am very sorry. I have to say only 9 months to a year left for the Boy. I will consult with a few others on the best and most comforting measures to be used. I marvel at Ronnie’s confidence and state of composure. He is exceptional. You can be proud…and Madame, I went into that heart and I found Jesus.”
(At a later date and when things had settled a bit, they all talked more about their Family of Faith, Doctor included.)
Author Anonymous (received by email from a friend)
Double-mindedness…what’s that?
To listen to God in one ear and to the trends and wanderings of a hell-bent world in the other; to be consistently unsure of self; to miss the Lord’s smile; to sense the pollution of traitor in one’s being; to dodge repeatedly any serious
considerations of the end game; to lack the revivifying dynamic of righteousness; to be miserable. James 4: 8-10
The Forty-Ninth
And men will praise you When yours has gone well Some lands bear your name The family in silks. Success is the game Perhaps quickly come Or dividends of name And rank for the sum. A business excels
Though standards forgot And most nod the head “How lucky your lot.” But where is the faith Or trust in the Lord You die like a beast The Gospel ignored. And those you scarce saw All hushed and hard worn Are princes of God Who rule in the morn.
Green Grocer of Rye
Sure an’ ’tis a grand day Me barrow full of goods Yes, up at five, and down the streets
To ply the neighbourhoods. Me Father was afore me But his was fish you see. And children and their mithers Would crowd his cart with glee. An’ always his “God bless ya” Backed by a winsome smile And grace was the aroma. (His back ached all the while.) And now I hike me veggies Plucked fresh as fresh can be A simple trade And all love-made Roit down the hill to sea. The gulls will sing my fanfare The mist no dampening snare And thoughts run wild In this stretched child An’ many a launched-up prayer. I’m free by rights A merchant But poor of purse and board No happier lad Was ever had So thankya much me Lord.
But godliness with contentment is great gain (1 Timothy 6: 6)