Showing posts with label Sunday Focus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday Focus. Show all posts

Sunday, 6 January 2013

Sunday Focus

This was posted by an elder at my church this morning on Facebook:



Meeting in the Saviour’s Name,
“Breaking bread” by his command,
To the world we thus proclaim
On what ground we hope to stand,
When the Lord shall come with clouds,
Joined by heaven’s exulting crowds.

From the Cross our hope we draw
‘Tis the sinner’s sure resource;
Jesus magnified the law,
... Jesus bore its awful curse;
What a joyful truth is this!
O how full of hope it is!

Jesus died, and then arose;
Yes, He rose, He lives to reign;
He will vanquish all His foes
When to earth He comes again;
His the triumph and the crown,
His the glory and renown.

Sing we, them of Him who died,
Sing of Him who rose again;
By His blood we’re justified,
And with Him we hope to reign:
Yes, we look to see our Lord,
And to share His bright reward.

Sunday, 2 December 2012

Sunday Focus - He was not Willing




'He was not willing that any should perish';
Jesus enthroned in the glory above,
Saw our poor fallen world, pitied our sorrows,
Poured out His life for us, wonderful love!
Perishing, perishing! Thronging our pathway,
Hearts break with burdens too heavy to bear:
Jesus would save, but there's no one to tell them,
No one to lift them from sin and despair.

'He was not willing that any should perish';
Clothed in our flesh with its sorrow and pain,
Came He to seek the lost, comfort the mourner,
Heal the heart broken by sorrow and shame.
Perishing, perishing! Harvest is passing,
Reapers are few and the night draweth near:
Jesus is calling thee, haste to the reaping,
Thou shalt have souls, precious souls for thy hire.

Plenty for pleasure, but little for Jesus;
Time for the world with its troubles and toys,
No time for Jesus' work, feeding the hungry,
Lifting lost souls to eternity's joys.
Perishing, perishing! Hark, how they call us;
Bring us your Savior, oh, tell us of Him!
We are so weary, so heavily laden,
And with long weeping our eyes have grown dim.

'He was not willing that any should perish';
Am I His follower, and can I live
Longer at ease with a soul going downward,
Lost for the lack of the help I might give!
Perishing, perishing! Thou wast not willing;
Master, forgive, and inspire us anew;
Banish our worldliness, help us to ever
Live with eternity's values in view.
 
- Lucy R. Meyer

Sunday, 25 November 2012

Sunday Focus

Serenity Prayer

 
 


God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time;
enjoying one moment at a time;
accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
forever in the next.

Amen.

Sunday, 18 November 2012

Sunday Focus

       All to Jesus I surrender


All to Jesus I surrender,
All to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

I surrender all,
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Humbly at His feet I bow,
Worldly pleasures all forsaken;
Take me, Jesus, take me now.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;
Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit,
Truly know that Thou art mine.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Lord, I give myself to Thee;
Fill me with Thy love and power,
Let Thy blessing fall on me.

All to Jesus I surrender,
Now I feel the sacred flame.
Oh, the joy of full salvation!
Glory, glory to His name!

Sunday, 11 November 2012

Sunday Focus


THE CHURCH AND THE WORLD


The Church and the World walked far apart
On the changing shore of Time;
The World was singing a giddy song,
And the Church a hymn sublime.
"Come, give me your hand," cried the merry World,
"And walk with me this way;"
But the good Church hid her snowy hand,
And solemnly answered, "Nay;
I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you;
Your way is the way to eternal death;
Your words are all untrue."

"Nay, walk with me but a little space,"
Said the World with a kindly air;
"The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there.
Your path is thorny, and rough, and rude,
And mine is broad and plain;
My road is paved with flowers and dews
And yours with tears and pain.
The sky above me is always blue;
No want, no toil, I know:
The sky above you is always dark,
Your lot is a lot of woe.
My path, you see, is a broad, fair one
And my gate is high and wide;
There is room enough for you and for me
To travel side by side."

Half shyly the Church approached the World,
And gave him her hand of snow;
The old World quick grasped it and walked along,
Saying in accents low;
"Your dress is too simple to please my taste;
I will give you pearls to wear,
Rich velvets and silks for your graceful form,
And diamonds to deck your hair."
The Church looked down at her plain white robes
And then at the dazzling World,
And blushed as she saw his handsome lip
With a smile contemptuous curled.
"I will change my dress for a costlier one."
Said the Church with a smile of grace:
Then the pure white garments drifted away,
And the World gave, in their place
Beautiful silks and shining satins,
And roses and gems and pearls,
And over her forehead her bright hair fell,
Crisped in a thousand curls.

"Your house is too plain," said the proud old World;
"I'll build you one like mine,--
With kitchen for feasting and parlour for play
And furniture ever so fine."
So he built her a costly and beautiful house,
Splendid it was to behold;
Her sons and her beautiful daughters dwelt there,
Gleaming in purple and gold;
Rich fairs and shows in the halls were held,
And the World and his children were there;
And laughter and music and feasts were heard
In the place that was meant for prayer.
She had cushioned pews for the rich and great
To sit in their pomp and pride;
While the poor folk, clad in their shabby suits,
Sat meekly down outside.

The Angel of Mercy flew over the Church,
And whispered, "I know thy sin."
Then the Church looked back with a sigh and longed
To gather her children in;
But some were off at the midnight ball,
And some were off at the play,
And some were drinking in gay saloons,
So she quietly went her way.
Then the sly World gallantly said to her:
"Your children mean no harm,
Merely indulging in innocent sports;"
So she leaned on his proffered arm
And smiled and chatted and gathered flowers
As she walked along with the World;
While millions and millions of sorrowing souls
To eternal death were hurled.

"Your preachers are all too old and plain,"
Said the World to the Church with a sneer
"They frighten my children with dreadful tales,
While I like not for them to hear.
They talk of judgment and fire and pain
And the night of an endless death;
They warn of a place which may only be
Mentioned with bated breath.
I will send you some of a better stamp,--
More brilliant and gay and fast,--
Who will show how people may live as they please
And go to heaven at last.
The Father is merciful, great and good,
Tender and true and kind;
Do you think He would take one child to heaven,
And leave the other behind?"
So he filled her house with gay divines,--
Deemed gifted and great and learned,--
And the plain old men that preached the cross
Were out of her pulpits turned.

Then Mammon came in and supported the Church
And rented a prominent pew;
And preaching and singing and floral display
Soon proclaimed a gospel new.

"You give too much to the poor," said the World,
"Far more than you ought to do;
Though the poor need shelter and food and clothes,
Why need it trouble you?
Go, take your money and buy rich robes,
And horses and carriages fine,
And pearls and jewels and dainty foods,
And the rarest and costliest wine!
My children, they dote on all such things;
And if you their love would win,
You must do as they do and walk in the ways
That they are walking in."


Then the Church held tightly the strings of her purse
And gracefully lowered her head,
And simpered, "I've given too much away;
I'll do, sir, as you have said."
So the poor were turned from her door in scorn,

She heard not the orphan’s cry;
And she drew her beautiful robes aside
As the widows went weeping by.


And the sons of the World and the sons of the Church
Walked closely hand and heart.
And only the Master who knoweth all
Could tell the two apart.
Then the Church sat down at her ease, and said,
"I am rich, and in goods increased;
I have need of nothing, and naught to do
But to laugh and dance and feast."
And the sly World heard her and laughed in his sleeve,
And mockingly said aside;
"The Church is fallen, the beautiful Church,
And her shame is her boast and pride.

Thus her witnessing power alas was lost
And perilous times came in;
The times of the end, so often foretold,
Of form and pleasure and sin.
Then the angel drew near to the mercy-seat,
And whispered in sighs her name,
And the saints their anthems of rapture hushed,
And covered their heads with shame.

Then a voice came down through the hush of heaven
From Him who sat on the throne:
"I know thy works, and how thou hast said,
'I am rich,' and hast not known
That thou art naked, and poor, and blind,
And wretched before my face.
Unless thou repent I will cast thee out
And blot thy name from its place.
I counsel thee to buy of Me
The gold that will make you rich;
And anoint your eyes with the heavenly salve
To discern your Maker's wish.


Then the awakened Church with deep regret
From her worldly course returned;
She opened her heart to the knock of Christ
As His love in her bosom burned.
He gave her robes and forgave her sins,
And together they sat and supped;
His proffered throne He shared with her
For whom He had suffered much.
O, Church of Christ, hear the Spirit's voice
Would that every Church throughout the realm
Would turn from the World away.
The World will be lost in eternal night,
But the penitent saved for aye.

--Matilda C. Edwards

Sunday, 4 November 2012

Sunday Focus


C. T. Studd, 1860-1931.
English missionary to China, India, and Africa

Some want to live
within the sound
of church or chapel bell;
I want to run
a rescue shop
within a yard of hell.

"If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him."
C T Studd

Only One Life, Twill Soon Be Past – Poem by C.T StuddBy: // Category: Quotes // 3 years ago
“Two little lines I heard one day,
Traveling along life’s busy way;
Bringing conviction to my heart,
And from my mind would not depart;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one,
Soon will its fleeting hours be done;
Then, in ‘that day’ my Lord to meet,
And stand before His Judgement seat;
Only one life,’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, the still small voice,
Gently pleads for a better choice
Bidding me selfish aims to leave,
And to God’s holy will to cleave;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, a few brief years,
Each with its burdens, hopes, and fears;
Each with its clays I must fulfill,
living for self or in His will;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

When this bright world would tempt me sore,
When Satan would a victory score;
When self would seek to have its way,
Then help me Lord with joy to say;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Give me Father, a purpose deep,
In joy or sorrow Thy word to keep;
Faithful and true what e’er the strife,
Pleasing Thee in my daily life;
Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Oh let my love with fervor burn,
And from the world now let me turn;
Living for Thee, and Thee alone,
Bringing Thee pleasure on Thy throne;
Only one life, “twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.

Only one life, yes only one,
Now let me say,”Thy will be done”;
And when at last I’ll hear the call,
I know I’ll say “twas worth it all”;
Only one life,’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last. ”

Only one life, ’twill soon be past,
Only what’s done for Christ will last.
And when I am dying, how happy I’ll be,
If the lamp of my life has been burned out for Thee.”
C.T Studd

 http://churchages.com/en/missions/ct-studd/

Sunday, 28 October 2012

Sunday Focus

 
Dear Lord and Father of mankind,
Forgive our foolish ways;
Reclothe us in our rightful mind;
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise,
In deeper reverence reverence, praise
 
In simple trust like theirs who heard,
Beside the Syrian sea,
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word,
Rise up and follow Thee,
Rise up and follow Thee.
 
O Sabbath rest by Galilee!
O calm of hills above,
Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee
The silence of eternity,
Interpreted by love,
Interpreted by love.
 
With that deep hush subduing all
Our words and works that drown
The tender whisper of Thy call,
As noiseless let Thy blessing fall
As fell Thy manna down,
As fell Thy manna down.
 
Drop Thy still dews of quietness
Till all our strivings cease;
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace,
The beauty of Thy peace.
 
Breathe trough the heats of our desire
Thy coolness and Thy balm;
Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire;
Speak through the earthquake, wind and fire,
O still small voice of calm,
O still small voice of calm.
 
by American Quaker poet John Greenleaf Whittier