Verse of the Week...

We live in a day of extremes, do we not? Never have the rich been comparatively richer, the poor, poorer, and the chasm between the educated and the ignorant continues to widen. The path of truth and its contesting counterpart, namely the reality of the day, continues to diverge, with the road of the former being far, far less traveled. Then there’s religion. Competing worldviews, or better, ‘godviews,’ cause friction to the point of death, between those dutifully yet tamely attending Sunday or Sabbath services and those strapping a bomb to their chest in the name of religious obedience. Indeed, extremism defines the times.

And what’s at the root of all the tension? What’s the thing so hotly contested by word, by creed, by action? Truth. It’s at the center. It always has been; it always will be. Throughout the ages people have debated it, fought for it (or at least about it), lived for it and died for it. Who is God? Who shall we worship? And how shall we worship? Who has got it right and who is outright misled? Though it first appears these questions have largely fallen by the wayside, it only takes a second glance to see that’s simply not the case. Relativism may reign, but it’s still very much a stance one takes on what’s true and what isn’t. To its adherents, what’s true is there is no truth; each is left to his own moral and spiritual compass. This is, obviously, itself a truism.

It is against this backdrop, then, that we live and move and breathe. And it is exactly within this climate that fundamentalism (in its broadest definition) is so radical. Makes sense, right?

So here’s my argument: though it’s portrayed in an almost exclusively negative light, religious extremism or fanaticism or fundamentalism or whatever you want to call it, has gotten a bad rap. That is, if you ask Jesus. See, He’s always prescribed to the notion of fanaticism: exercising uncommon faith in the great and small. And not a day went by when he didn’t preach fundamentalism: that He was the Way, the Truth and the Life, and that no one reaches the Father but by Him. The question surfaces, then, why do we look at suicide bombers and polygamists with such wonderment? Are they not merely endeavoring to be faithful followers of their respective religions? Though most would contend their methods are misguided, their fanaticism, their fundamentalism, is exactly the kind of faith God requests and requires of you and me.

To better illustrate, let’s look at the healing account in Acts 3-4. In it, Peter and John encounter a forty-year-old man, a beggar, crippled from birth. When he asks the apostles for cash, they give him none. But they do offer him everything they have: the healing power of Jesus Christ. At their command the man immediately rises to his feet and confidently, albeit clumsily, follows them into the temple courts for all to see…and savor. The fact that this notoriously broke and broken beggar is leaping for joy on able legs is lost on no one. The crowd marvels, even praises God. But leave it to the religious leaders of the day to step in and try to sabotage the moment, the miracle. They ask, ‘By what power or what name did you do this?’ (chapter 4, verse 7) By the way, the question insinuated that the power of God wasn’t the cause of the cure (after all, these ‘godly’ clergy weren’t healing cripples by the command of their voice). But here’s where the story reaches its climax. In this very instant, fundamental, radical faith takes center stage. Peter, the subject of perhaps the biggest spiritual trip-up recorded in the Bible (denying Jesus three times within a few hours, once in His immediate presence), answers. He answers well, with boldness and in truth:

“Rulers and elders of the people! (note the exclamation point!) If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the Name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He [Jesus] is ‘the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.’ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved.” (Acts 4:8-12)

You talk about an ‘in your face!’ And I’m not being trite. Peter, at great risk to his own well-being, emphatically condemns the religious leaders in his retort. He responds with strength, with zeal, but most importantly, in truth. There is no doubt here, Peter displays fanatical, yet fundamental faith. And God is glorified as a result.

It’s clear. God calls us to a faith that is staunch in its stance for truth (Truth). And think about why. If Peter were to have weakly or meekly replied to the underhanded accusation, if he hadn’t been able to find the words, or worse, denied his power source altogether, God would have been defamed. It would have been tragic. The onlookers would have walked away with less awe, with diminished hope. And the view of the absolute truth and might of the Almighty God would have been muddled, murky instead of magnificent.

God desires fanatical, fundamental faith because in it He is seen. In it He is savored. He requests this of His people. He requires this of His true people. And so we have the opportunity to answer life how Peter answered the Sanhedrin—with Spirit, and in truth.

After being released from jail Peter and John ‘went back to their own people and reported all that the chief priests and elders had said to them.’ (verse 23) Then they raised their voices together in prayer. Acts 4:31 is a poignant end to a purposeful story:

‘After they prayed, the place where they were meeting was shaken (shaken!). And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly.’


Grace to you, to live a fanatical, yet fundamental faith, to the praise of His Name,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

11 "The multitude of your sacrifices—what are they to me?" says the LORD. "I have more than enough of burnt offerings, of rams and the fat of fattened animals; I have no pleasure in the blood of bulls and lambs and goats.

 12 When you come to appear before me, who has asked this of you, this trampling of my courts?

 13 Stop bringing meaningless offerings! Your incense is detestable to me. New Moons, Sabbaths and convocations—I cannot bear your evil assemblies.

 14 Your New Moon festivals and your appointed feasts my soul hates. They have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them.

--Isaiah 1:11-14

In most churches today, and in most Christian circles, doing good is the best thing anyone can do; following God’s guidelines, as offered in the Bible, is considered life’s most significant endeavor, and I would agree…to a point.

One widely agreed upon tenet is the act of giving, and particularly giving money to a church. In fact, the sermon I heard last Sunday was about tithing, an admittedly important topic to hit from the pulpit. The preacher, like none other I’ve ever witnessed, called the congregation to the carpet for its measly financial offerings. He asked, in so many words, ‘Are you tipping God, or tithing to Him?’ A good question no doubt.

Check out the verses above. It’s a quote, delivered through the lips of the prophet Isaiah, from the mouth of God. Apparently He was upset with His people. But why? At first glance, they were doing exactly what He commanded them to do: sacrificing their choicest animals, meeting in the Temple courts, honoring the Sabbath, participating in New Moon festivals. At first glance, they were steadfastly obedient. So what was with God’s displeasure? He commanded, they obeyed. What gives?

To put it simply, obedience, true obedience (obedience that pleases God), is a matter of the heart, not the head. Let me explain. God’s people knew exactly what He wanted them to do. The details of what to sacrifice and when, those were clearly recognized…and performed. But their heart wasn't in it. And it’s often the same today, is it not? Go to church on Sunday. Maybe even Wednesday. Read your Bible daily for 20 minutes…30 minutes if you really want to stand out. Give to the poor. Tithe your money. We’ve got it down, just like the ancient Israelites. But I ask you, as I examine myself, is God pleased with your offerings? Does He delight in your good deeds? I know we’d like to think so. After all, at least we’re doing something!

The truth is, God just may be tired of us, weary of our empty(?) rituals and offerings. See, to God, the aroma of our deeds, even the exact things He commands, can become odious depending on how or why we do them. If we ‘obey’ out of obligation, out of guilt, with an unengaged, resistant heart, we stir His disdain. And we don’t actually obey whatsoever. Remember, God detests the whitewashed tomb that can so easily be our life. Jesus’ harshest words were reserved for those who actually did the most ‘godly’ things. ‘These people honor me with their lips…but their HEARTS are far from me.’ See? Heart, not head. Relationship, not religion. There’s such a profound difference.

So, to the mirror I go. Do I do right? Do I perform with purpose? Honestly, and sadly, sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I'm compelled to go to church because of what others might think if I skip it. Sometimes I give because I know I should. Sometimes I do ‘good’ with no purity at all. And what does God think? Don’t do it. Stay home. Put your checkbook away. I don’t want your ‘offerings.’  Harsh? Maybe. But to God, the motive matters that much.

God loves a cheerful giver. Cheerful, as in, from the heart. I believe the opposite is true: God loathes a cheerless one. And have you ever thought about why? If we do this thing or that, and we do so out of ritual, with no heart, we dishonor Him. Basically, if we’re strong-armed into action, not compelled by love, we make Him, and a relationship with Him, appear unattractive, like He’s nothing but a distant taskmaster. Not the Lover of our souls who longs for our intimacy.

Think of your relationship with someone you love. Do you do kind things for them because you’re supposed to? Do you write them a sweet little note only because you ought? And if you did, what would that say about your relationship? About him or her? No, the manifestations of love flow freely from the heart, making their object feel prized, treasured like no other.  So it is, or is meant to be, with our good deeds, our offerings to the Creator of the universe.

Let’s tie this up.

‘If you love me, you will obey my commands.’ --John 14:15

Only if we truly love, will we truly obey.

The heart of the matter: it’s a matter of the heart.

Grace to you, to love Him, and only then obey,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘…Hate what is evil...’            -Romans 12:9

‘…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles…’

-Hebrews 12:1

Here’s another opportunity for self-examination, which, if done with honesty and proper motivation, is the backbone of sanctification (making oneself virtuous or chaste, and thus set apart). And don’t doubt it for a second, God wants us to be different. Our overarching purpose is to point to Him (through our differences), to His praise.

Have you ever thought about your personal view of evil? Generally speaking, most would say it’s ‘bad,’ even ‘ugly.’ But have you ever sat down and truly analyzed your heart, and how it handles evil? Do you despise and detest it? Are you abhorred by it? Or, as I would propose is more likely the case (it probably is for me), would your approach to it be better characterized as ‘largely indifferent,’ or ‘mildly put off'? Though it may not appear at first glance to matter all that much, what or how we think of evil has major repercussions on how differently we live this life and if we honor God.

Before going any further, let’s at least loosely define what ‘evil’ is. Romans 12:9 infers that it’s the opposite of good. That’s close. However, the best (simplest) way to define evil is, ‘that which is counter to God.’ This is admittedly a broad description, but it needs to be. Certainly evil has its nuances, it can show itself in varied forms, but its crucial characteristic is its polar opposition to the Almighty God. It’s safe to say that’s all we really need to know about it. Oh, but evil is powerful, much more so than you and me left to ourselves (which, thank God we’re not). After all, who is evil’s chief executer but Satan himself. He prowls around like a roaring lion, looking to devour (1 Peter 5:8). Given this, and given the definition above (that it's inherently counter to God), our approach and/or response to it should be clear: resist it, run from it, treat it like the plague. Because to our soul, that’s exactly what it is.

Back to Romans 12:9. Paul doesn’t mince words. ‘HATE what is evil…’ Growing up reading this, I always thought, Isn’t ‘hate’ evil in itself? Simply, nope, it’s not. You’ve heard of righteous anger (think Jesus overturning the money-changing tables in the Temple), when it comes to evil, get used to the idea of righteous hate. Despise evil. Detest it. Abhor it. Why such a strong response? Again, it wreaks havoc on our soul, and more, that’s how God Himself sees it and deals with it. He is holy, pristine, perfectly pure; due to His nature, He literally cannot be around it or look upon it (two quick examples: flinging Lucifer and his fellow tainted angels from His presence; turning the sky dark when Jesus actually became our sin while on the cross).

Paul was on the same page with God. We would do well to be the same. Hate that which is evil—not the person, if that’s where it’s found, but the very evil itself. This sounds a bit wild, but if we were to grow in our hatred of evil, we would grow in our desire to abstain from it. Truly, then, the fuel of sanctification is, in part, the outright repugnance of evil. It at least contributes to the motivation to ‘throw off that which hinders, the sin that so easily entangles.’ If it’s so repulsive, cast it off, get rid of it, get away from it, run away from it, and fast.

Would you examine your heart with me on this? Do you loathe evil? Or do merely dislike it? It matters. And what do we do if evil is, on occasion, a friend? Pray. Pray that God would give you a heart like His, one that cannot stand even a whiff of its stench. And plead with the Holy Spirit to precisely align your affections with your Maker’s.

There is a dance being done here. As our disdain strengthens for that which is dark, we become, more and more, lovers of the Light. But more on that later…

Grace to you, to see evil for the God-defaming abomination it is…and stiff-arm it,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

You are worthy of affection

You’re the radiance of all of His glory

Let adoration fill this place

You hold everything together

By the word of Your immovable power

We sing a song of praise

                                    --Shane & Shane

Perhaps the chief flaw of society today is inaccurate value assessment. If that sounds odd or unclear, let me explain. The behaviors of our life necessarily convey the assigned value we give to this or that thing or person. Better, what we do, or don’t do, screams what we deem worthy, and conversely, that which lacks. So for some, doing whatever it takes to get a desired promotion at work—arriving early, staying late, maybe even slandering the guy or gal who’s a threat—evidences the unparalleled worth of career success. For others, a reunion with loved ones is cause for unrivaled excitement, showcasing the uncontested place of family in their life. The point is this: where our heart is, there is our treasure found. And like I first mentioned, unfortunately each of us are easily in the business of disproportionately valuing that which is here one moment, and gone the very next.

That’s the appropriate way to put it. It’s not that we assign worth to things that have absolutely none, it’s just that we give those things a disproportionate measure. Take work for example. Most of us are pretty tied up in it. We do it a lot (easily the majority of our waking life!). We often think about it when we’re not doing it. Sometimes we can’t even sleep because of it. And why? Because of what it gives us—power, prestige, a sense of accomplishment—or better, gets us—money, the capacity to purchase life’s luxuries. And because we value these things so greatly, often over and above everything else, our obsession is justified. Right?!

Another example of something we unduly weight with worth is family. That’s right, I said it. Though it’s undeniably one of life’s sweet gifts, for many it assumes a place of unsurpassed prominence. To these, nothing matters more. Nothing. Ticky-tack family squabbles, then, are monumental conflicts, and the dissolution of familial relationships? Quite literally, the end of the world. Everything in life, every decision, every action, every affection, every allegiance, revolves around family. It reigns undisputedly.

Now let me quickly reiterate that family, relationships, work, money, and the like do have value. They undoubtedly have worth. Just not nearly as much as we’re so prone to assign them. And this is exactly where we get off track, because when we overvalue certain things (the things of this world) we necessarily undervalue that which is of supreme worth, namely God. Sounds ‘churchy,’ doesn’t it? Like I get that God is God, and going to church and being ‘religious’ are virtuous endeavors, but really, what does that look like in the day to day? Shall I sew myself a burlap tunic and hit up the nearest monastery? How is treating Him as life’s ultimate treasure remotely practical? Answering these questions would be at least a start; most never get to asking.

If you get the chance, read Psalm 96. You could read a hundred others, but find this one in particular. Here are the first nine verses:

Oh sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD all the earth! Sing to the LORD, bless His name; tell of His salvation from day to day. Declare His glory among the nations, His marvelous works among the peoples! For great is the LORD, and greatly to be praised; He is to be feared above all gods. For all the gods of the peoples are worthless idols, but the LORD made the heavens.

Splendor and majesty are before Him; strength and beauty are in His sanctuary.

Ascribe to the LORD, O families of the peoples, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength! Ascribe to the LORD the glory due His name; bring an offering and come into His courts. Worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness; tremble before Him, all the earth!

Each of us, meaning all of us, were created with an affectionate heart. We cannot, therefore, help but give affection; we cannot help but worship. But if we’re appropriately divvying our affections, the most and the strongest of them are landing at the feet of the Creator, not at the things He created, as good as some of them are.

This is the crux of life, the precise crosshairs of where we either ‘get it,’ or miss the mark entirely. God knew what He was doing beginning the Ten Commandments with the first: ‘You shall have no other gods before Me.’ It’s simple, to the point, but profoundly underscores our (the world’s) biggest issue. Who, or what, gets the throne in our life? Look no further than that which we value most. Look no further than that which enraptures our heart.

Join me, will you? Let us honestly examine our heart and ask, ‘Where lie my deepest affections? What do my actions say is most worthy to me? What does my time tell is most valuable?’

One last point. Our heart loves that which it knows well. The degree to which we know God directly affects the degree to which we love and worship Him. If we know little of His greatness, little of His works, if we’ve hardly experienced the sweetness of communion with Him, He will appear largely unworthy of our deepest affections. And we’ll live accordingly. But that will be a grossly mistaken perception. Conversely, if we read His word, if we hear of His great works and through them begin to understand what He’s done for us, and more, who He is, what starts as a flutter in our heart will erupt into unadulterated praise. And that will spill over into every area of life--work, family, whatever else.

And only then will everything be all right, how He created it to be: with Himself at the center, and nothing and no one else.

Oh matchlessly worthy LORD, open our eyes to see You, to see You for who You are. Draw us near; let us experience You, that we would be lovesick over You, and only You. Amen.

Grace to you, to see and savor Him,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

‘Everyone who competes in the games goes into strict training. They do it to get a crown that will not last; but we do it to get a crown that lasts forever.’ 1 Corinthians 9:25

For whatever reason I’ve felt compelled of late to plan my own funeral. Seriously. I’m not quite certain if this means anything about my immediate fate or, perhaps more, the state of my head, but nonetheless it’s an endeavor I have an urge to complete. I want to be ready, prepared for when my last breath is breathed. So I’ve started to think about what songs will make the playlist and what the main message will convey in the farewell letter I wish to write.

All this, then, got me to thinking about what I was actually setting out to do: prepare for death. Or at least prepare for the ceremony commemorating it. My mind quickly settled on the potential folly of such a task, especially considering how ill-prepared I am for life, for the battle that is being waged, and most importantly, for the eternal life just down the road.

The Apostle Paul urges us to train, to be intentional in our preparation. The analogy he uses carries much weight. Athletes beat their bodies in order to compete and succeed in the arena, and they do so for the prospects of fading rewards: fame, notoriety, maybe a shiny piece of metal. In a similar way, followers of Jesus are to compete in the battle that is this life, which perpetually pits good against evil. They are to beat their flesh into submission, that their life would be effective, fruitful, lived by the Spirit, and this, for an eternal prize that will not spoil or fade.

The greatest enemy of preparation is unintentionality (that isn’t technically a word according to Webster, but it’s prominently listed in Ben’s Dictionary). Just a verse later Paul says, ‘Therefore I do not run like a man running aimlessly; I do not fight like a man beating the air.’ (1 Corinthians 9:26) In other words, because of the everlasting nature of the reward at stake he will not live without purpose, he will not fail to prepare (and in doing so prepare to fail!). And let me add, he will not prepare willy-nilly or, pardon my French, half-assed. Quite the contrary. Verse 27: ‘No, I beat my body and make it my slave…’ To Paul, this is serious business (eternal life, remember?). Only a fool would take it lightly.

It’s no news that this life can lull you into overvaluing, and thus pursuing, that which ultimately does not matter. And it’s certainly easy to run through it at times aimlessly, without intention. But maybe that’s all the more cause for a brief pause, to slow the spinning down so we can think about what we’re doing and what does matter. God meant this life as a training ground or ‘training camp,’ if you will. The real season, the one that’s forever, is right around the corner and, if you’re anything like me, you’re maybe not in the best spiritual shape. Again, all the more reason to hit two-a-days hard, to proactively (purposely) put our faith through the flames, that it might come out refined…and ready.

None of us know the exact duration of ‘the games’ or when our individual camp is scheduled to conclude, so we can’t afford to procrastinate. The end of this life is coming; will we be ready to put on our long, white robe?

If you’re wondering, I am going to continue to plan and make preparations for my funeral…just not at the expense of doing so for my life (and the prize).

May God grant you grace and peace as you prepare,

Voice of another

Verse of the Week...

Have you ever wondered if you’re getting it right? Better yet, are you courageous enough to honestly consider whether you’re chasing after that which lasts, or instead the all-too-charming-yet-vain pursuits that quickly fade from significance over the course of this momentary life? I have. I do. And especially when death knocks on the door of someone ‘just down the street,’ so to speak.

My 73-year-old uncle Paul, more endearingly known as ‘Pablo’ to most, passed away last week after a noble fight against pancreatic cancer. And unlike many who’ve died far younger, Pablo lived a full, rich life. No, he wasn’t an ultra savvy investor or wealthy tycoon, but more the unassuming type, with a knack for befriending literally anyone. His family was, and still is, an interconnected web of love and support, one full of shared joys. My uncle was just one of those guys who left his mark on everyone he encountered; his kindness, his compassion (and his hearty chuckle) gave a lift to any room he entered.

And as it seems to often go, his death, and my mourning, got me to thinking. Will I be remembered some day how my uncle is now? Will people grieve my passing as a true loss? More, Will my life be characterized by genuine, unconditional love, as was my dearest uncle’s?

Many questions, I know.  But they point straight to love, and God’s (Peter’s) view of it:

‘Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.’  (1 Peter 4:8)

Above all… ‘Above all, love each other deeply.’ In other words, if you do anything, make certain you do this. If you don’t do anything else, do this. For in doing so, a multitude of sins are covered. I don’t know how that sounds to you, but to me it’s a breath of fresh air, an anthem of hope. Hope for me. Hope for a wretch. And hope for a simplified (focused) existence. See, there’s something about this exhortation that rings favorable, something that sounds really…well, realistic. Like this is something God-honoring that I can actually DO! For sure I’ve made monumental mistakes throughout my life, hurting God, myself and others, but in the face of them all, I just may be able to love others deeply and, somehow, in some way, amend for much of my waywardness.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. I initially thought the same thing. No, I don’t suppose I can, by my works (even my works of love), ultimately save myself from my sins. That would be lunacy…leading to deserved condemnation. But I know we can work out our [God wrought, Jesus bought] salvation with fear and trembling (and love), as did David, the man after God’s own heart, and my Uncle Paul. I do know that, even amidst a life of continual mistakes, littered with letdowns, we can overcome its heartache by living a life of love.

And you know what? If we do, people will take note—more than 700 broken-hearted friends and family members attended my uncle’s funeral. But, as the meaningless cliché goes, ‘that is what it is.’ Far more importantly, God will notice. He’ll notice how over and above obeying any of His other commands, you and I kept the one that fulfilled them all, the one most germane to His heart, the one expressly ratified to bring Him praise:

‘Love the LORD your God with all your heart, your soul, your mind and strength. And love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Matthew 22:37-39)

There is both hope and beauty in the simplicity of love. Will we, like Uncle Pablo, live in such a way that we're remembered for it?

Verse of the Week...Cross-travaganza

‘The Wonder of the Cross’
by Vicky Beeching?


O precious sight, my Savior stands,

Dying for me with outstretched hands.

O precious sight, I love to gaze,

Remembering salvation’s day,

Remembering salvation’s day.

Though my eyes linger on this scene,

May passing time and years not steal

The power with which it impacts me,

The freshness of its mystery,

The freshness of its mystery.


Chorus

May I never lose the wonder,

The wonder of the cross.

May I see it like the first time

Standing as a sinner lost,

Undone by mercy and left speechless,

Watching wide-eyed at the cost.

May I never lose the wonder,

The wonder of the cross.


If you recall, during Christmastime last year I wrote about seeking to revive the sense of awe with which we viewed the birth of Jesus as children, and experiencing their innocent delight, that which erupts freely from a joyful, unfettered heart. How easily the passing of time and the repetition of days, months and seasons can alter our approach to the most significant of holy days—and not for the better.

Well, Good Friday and Easter, once again, are here. Another holiday season filled with its own traditions and rituals and secular flair. And I would argue that, like at Christmas, we’re in need of refreshment (no, I’m not referring to the generic cookies and watered-down punch found in your church fellowship hall or basement!). Quite simply, our sense of wonder needs awaking. Because left alone, our eyes too easily linger on the scene without evoking an authentic response within.

Notice the stark contrast between an indifferent, milquetoast approach and that which is described by the chorus: ‘Undone by mercy and left speechless, watching wide-eyed at the cost.’ The sinless Savior died to forever remove our sin and impart to us His righteousness, satisfying once and for all the wrath of the one true, and just, God. If we’re understanding that with any breadth, if we’re feeling even a hint of that love in our hearts, how could we not be undone by His unmatched mercy? A better question: given the weight of what’s behind the cross, how could we keep our composure?

I don’t know who wrote the lyrics to this magnificent song, but frankly it doesn’t matter. Whoever did, wrote it as a prayer, even better, as a plea. ‘May I never lose the wonder, the wonder of the cross.’ The writer passionately petitions God to make it so. And we would do well to do the same.

Without wonder, there’s no worship. And at least for me, it’s no wonder it’s so difficult at times to truly worship, given my lack of wonder within. If you would, then, join me this weekend in pleading for God to give feeling to our all-too-insensitive hearts and focus our minds on the weight of the wooden cross, that we may ‘see it like the first time, standing as a sinner lost…’ And that the Father of Jesus Christ would receive our heartfelt praise, to the glory of His Name.


A wonder-full Good Friday and Easter to you,

Voice of another