BOOKS, BOOKS, BOOKS

 Oh, the height and depth and length of....the books stacked high at one of our local thrift stores. Best wishes finding a particular title in their random stacking!

True confessions: I have my own cache of inspirational books, many of them re-read for encouragement and challenge. When I know I'll be somewhere that I have to wait (like in a medical office reception area), I tuck a book in my purse. While most of those waiting are mindlessly thumbing their smart phones, I'm absorbing an inspirational paper “messenger” that challenges and lifts me.

My college and grad school career included reading in many subject areas to satisfy the curriculum requirements. At quarter's end, I sold them back to the bookstore or later gave them away in “periodic possession purges.” My current “office” (my daughter's old 8x9-foot bedroom) has two full bookshelves of helpful books. I also keep books by my bed stand and my recliner rocker. Most are Christian living or Bible study books. But the book most important to me—usually by my rocker, my “quiet place”--has worn bindings.

I have some way-out-there “heroes” of people with a deep, devout passion for scripture. One was John Wesley, known to the world as the “man of one book,” In his youth at Oxford University he became a well-read man of the scholarship and literature of his day. But the Bible eclipsed all as his guide and life-changer.

He wrote this in his “Preface to Sermons” (words that have become famous—take the time to imagine yourself back in his study as he scratched this with an ink-dipped quill):

O candid, reasonable men, I am not afraid to lay open what have been the inmost thoughts of my heart. I have thought, I am a creature of a day, passing through life as an arrow through the air. I am a spirit come from God, and returning to God: just hovering over the great gulf; till, a few moments hence, I am no more seen; I drop into an unchangeable eternity! I want to know one thing,—the way to heaven; how to land safe on that happy shore. God himself has condescended to teach me the way.

For this very end He came from heaven. He hath written it down in a book. O give me that book! At any price, give me the book of God! I have it: here is knowledge enough for me. Let me be homo unius libri [“man of one book”]. Here then I am, far from the busy ways of men. I sit down alone; only God is here. In His presence I open, I read His book; for this end, to find the way to heaven.

Is there a doubt concerning the meaning of what I read? Does anything appear dark or intricate? I lift up my heart to the Father of Lights:—“Lord, is it not Thy word, ‘if any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God?’ Thou givest liberally, and upbraidest not. Thou hast said, ‘if any be willing to do Thy will, he shall know.’ I am willing to do, let me know Thy will.” I then search after and consider parallel passages of Scripture, “comparing spiritual things with spiritual.” I meditate thereon with all the attention and earnestness of which my mind is capable. If any doubt still remains, I consult those who are experienced in the things of God: and then the writings whereby, being dead, they yet speak. And what I thus learn, that I teach. (1)

I cannot add to what he wrote, only aspire to have the same compelling desire to know God through His Word.

(1) John Wesley (1703-1791). A Man of One Book. Vol. IV. Eighteenth Century. Henry Craik, ed. 1916. English Prose (bartleby.com) .

O MASTER, LET ME WALK WITH THEE

Walking with Jesus may mean worn-out sandals...

 A monthly series on hymns of the faith.

Our faith, believed newspaperman-turned-clergyman Washington Gladden, should impact social justice issues. And this was more than a hundred years ago, after the American Civil War, when the country was in the throes of the industrial revolution. The opening line of his hymn said, “O Master, let me walk with Thee/In lowly paths of service free.” And he lived it out in his ministry and more.

Born in 1836 in Pennsylvania, and named for the first president, he was ordained to ministry in the Congregational Church after graduation from college. In his first eleven years in ministry, he fought corrupt political groups like the Tweed Ring, infamous for buying votes, encouraging judicial corruption, and extracting millions of dollars from New York City contracts. After that he was called to the pastorate of First Congregational Church in Columbus, Ohio, where he'd serve for the next thirty-two years. From its pulpit he continued to advocate for social, political and economic reforms. He also gained prominence for his negotiator skills with strikes by telegraph workers and coal miners.

His bias against big business brought criticism from his denomination, especially after he attacked John D. Rockefeller Sr. for gifting $100,000 to the church's foreign missions board. He considered the money “tainted” because of monopolistic practices of Rockefeller's Standard Oil Company.

Not surprisingly, Gladden had his critics within the church. One serious disagreement was Gladden's view of the Bible as just a book of religion, not necessarily divinely inspired. He embraced evolution and opposed the outreach efforts of evangelists like Billy Sunday. An earlier version of this hymn had two verses that criticized his critics!

First published just as a poem in 1879, it was noticed by Dr. Charles Richards, a publisher of hymns. Matched to a tune by an Anglican minister, it was included in Richards' hymnal “Christian Praise,” which more than a century later is still being reprinted and sold.

TRUST AND PEACE

The four stanzas that remain in many hymnals have none of Gladden's controversial ideas. Instead, they emphasize a prayerful walk of trust and peace with God that also incorporates “lowly paths of service free” and “trust that triumphs over wrong.” Most people would agree that knowing and serving Jesus must extend to meeting the human needs around us. With its quiet, meditative lyrics—a contrast to the fiery political issues that stirred Gladden's sense of justice—it rightly reminds us that the only real peace comes from walking with Jesus.

As Ephesians 5:1-2 says, “Be imitators of God as dear children. And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.” And Matthew 20:28 reminds us that Jesus gave us an example of serving our world: “The Son of man did not come to be served, but to serve” (Matthew 20:26-28).

Gladden would die in 1918 in his 82^nd year. His political involvements are noted in a few history books. But this hymn continues to remind us of what it means to walk with Jesus “in lowly paths of service free”:

*Helping the “slow of heart” and “wayward.”

*Learning patience.

*Finding hope and peace in Jesus alone--”with Thee, O Master, let me live.”

This video site has a traditional organ/choir performance:

Gradual Hymn: O Master Let Me Walk With Thee - Bing video

DOUGH

Ah--the aroma of baking bread! A bread machine I got in the 1990s (still chugging away) makes that treat lots easier. I usually use the “dough” cycle so I can shape the loaves or make rolls. The machine requires that I mix the ingredients in a certain order: liquid ingredients at the bottom, then dry, and finally dry yeast in a well at the top. Sometimes as I measure in the right amount, from a jar kept in the refrigerator, I marvel at the invention of “dry yeast.” If I'd lived in Bible times, there was no such luxury. Women had to keep a bit of dough from each batch to “leaven” the next--something like the traditions of Alaskan sourdough.

I imagine Jesus as a little boy watching His mother make the daily bread. Some of Bible-times 'bread” was more like a tortilla, but others “leavened” to rise. Maybe He recalled His mother's cooking when He said, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into a large amount of flour until it worked all through the dough” (Matthew 13:33). This was a parable about how Christ-followers should penetrate their entire community with their Christ-imbued words and deeds.

But a few chapters later, Jesus turned the illustration around, warning His followers to be “on guard against the yeast of the Pharisees and Sadducees” (16:6, 11). Here, He was referring to the destructive legalism of such spiritual leaders. It might penetrate the hearts of those who hear it, but not for good.

The apostle Paul put another spin on the “yeast” illustration. In his letter to the church at Corinth, chastising them for tolerating sin. In their case, they put up with terrible sexual sin (“a man has his father's wife,” 1 Cor. 5:1) while they kept on “playing church.” Such sinful behavior damaged the church's calling and reputation in their pagan culture. As Christ-followers, they had to get rid of such hypocrisy (the old “yeast of malice and wickedness”) and establish instead a reputation of “the bread of sincerity and truth” (v. 8).

Jesus used such simple but profound illustrations. In the only miracle recorded in all four Gospels, the feeding of the 5,000, He declared: “I am the bread of life.” I sometimes think of that as I plop my blob of risen-once dough on a floured surface for its final kneading and shaping. The Bread of Life—how I represent Christ to my world—should contain no corrupting or decaying lifestyles that could cause someone to sin.

Our culture doesn't promote that. It encourages us to take in the rubbish of selfishness, bitterness, entitlement, and immorality. If you doubt that, watch TV a while. Or cruise the internet, even just scrolling through the features of the “home page” of various internet engines. It's like sweeping a dirty kitchen floor and dumping the filthy results into the dough.

Don't worry. I'd never add “floor dirt” to my dough. I want it fully edible, fragrant, and fulfilling. Qualities I associate with Jesus, “the Bread of Life.”

SHREDDED

One by one I fed the papers through the shredder—all from a file folder representing sadness and disappointment. I tend to have a “helper” personality, but this backfired when I tried to help someone who was deflecting their unhappiness and anger onto me. I'd saved the negative paper trail, trying to make sense of it, Finally, I realized the files had to go in order to help me “let go” of this problem that only God could solve.

Shredding deed done, I sensed the hug of God and the reminder that He would handle this a lot better than I had. Accusations and lies had pummeled my spirit and eroded my health. But I knew God's way was to say “no” to revenge and leave it to Him (Romans 12:17-19). “Forgiving does not mean not facing a problem,” Dr. Henry Cloud wrote in Integrity: The Courage to Meet the Demands of Reality (Harper, 2006, p. 195). “It means facing it and then letting it go.”

In his pastoral role to early churches, Peter also had to deal with suffering believers. He urged them to take the high road—not repaying evil with evil, or insult with insult (1 Peter 4:9). Retaliation wasn't in God's plan. Instead, they were told (and here Peter quoted Psalm 34):

Whoever would love life and see good days must keep his tongue from evil and his lips from deceitful speech. He must turn from evil and do good; he must seek peace and pursue it. For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their prayer. (1 Peter 4:10-12a)

Even though I destroyed that negative correspondence, I take comfort that God has kept a record of my wounds and neediness. In Psalm 56, David reflected on how beat-up he felt as he tried to escape King Saul and ended up in Gath, home to the giant he had killed. Talk about unfriendly escape routes! “All day long they twist my words,” he cried out (56:5). After listing some other afflictions, David affirmed his faith that God saw the bigger picture when these enemies would be turned back:

By this I will know that God is for me. In God, whose word I praise—in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me? (56:10-11)

How ironic, that words which “cut” me emotionally got “cut” so thoroughly. As I threw the shreds in the garbage, this verse from my very favorite book of the Bible came to mind:

Forgetting what is behind [like that now-shredded correspondence] and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Phil. 3:14)

THE POWER OF A SHORT WALK

It seemed just the natural and right thing to do: walk my older visitor, Georgia, to her car as part of my “goodbye.” For one thing, I wanted to make sure she “arrived” at the car door safely. Though a careful driver, even in her late 80s, her legs weren't as reliable. The last thing I wanted was for her to take a misstep off our porch or in our driveway. So, I walked her to the car, chatting and encouraging her until I made sure she was in, buckled, and ready for me to shut the car door. Then we waved goodbye, the little cone on her antennae (which helped her find her car in a parking lot) bobbing in the wind as she left. When she passed away recently at 90, I'm glad those little "bye" treks are part of my memories of our friendship.

I didn't think much about that little courtesy before reading an excellent book by Dee Brestin, The Friendships of Women (Victor Books, 1980). I had the privilege of hearing her in person at a women's conference in 1999. This was the “wow” moment I got in reading her “friendships” book:

I have learned the most important moments of a friend's visit may occur when I take the trouble to walk her to her car. The very act of showing that I care enough to prolong the visit often releases from her a confidence or expression of love that we both treasure. If I'm not willing to create these parting scenes, then they slip between the cracks of time, never to be called in remembrance when remembrance is sorely needed.(p. 20)

Thinking back over my visiting friends, I realize it wasn't just the older ones whom I wanted safely “delivered” to their cars. It was, indeed, the friends whose visits, as Dee said, I “cared enough to prolong.” And as they left, I realized how blessed I was, to have such caring and genuine friends.

I've tried to make two other courtesies part of my friendship habits. One is remembering birthdays, even with just a card. If possible, it's one with loving humor or celebrating something on their list of “my favorite things.” My friend Karen, who loves snowy white owls, usually gets a card with that bird on the cover—and oh, I hunt all year for that! The other courtesy is to affirm someone's character via a note on a birthday card or in a friendship note or E-mail. You never know: it might be God's timing to defuse a negative experience or message that person recently experienced.

A walk to the car, a quick and affirming message. They require so little. They communicate so much.

POTTER HYMNS

A monthly series on a hymn of the faith.

Sarah Pollard did not like her name—not at all. When she got to adulthood, she had it changed to Adelaide, at that time—the late 1800s—one of the most popular names given girls. A native of Iowa, she went to a women's college in Boston and then moved to Chicago to study at Moody Bible Institute. She taught in several girl's schools and eventually became known as a traveling Bible teacher, helping other evangelists. One emphasized healing, and the other the imminent return of Christ. She also taught at a missionary training school. But her heart was set on Africa, and she simply could not raise enough money for her support. One night, feeling discouraged by her failed missionary aspirations, she attended a little prayer meeting. She heard an elderly woman pray—not for blessings and things, but simply this: “It really doesn't matter what you do with us. Just have your own way with our lives.”

That simple prayer inspired Pollard to consider Jeremiah 18 and the potter deciding what to do with his lump of clay. The analogy, of course, was God's sovereignty in our lives. That evening, Adelaide wrote all four stanzas of a hymn before she went to bed.

Have thine own way, Lord, Have thine own way;

Thou art the potter, I am the clay.

Mold me and make me after Thy will,

While I am waiting, yielded and still.

That poem would be set to music by George Stebbins, who for twenty-five years worked as an evangelistic musician with D.L. Moody's meetings. Many of his hymns or hymn tunes are still sung: “Saved by Grace,” “There is a Green Hill Far Away,” “Take Time to be Holy.” As for Miss Pollard's hymn output, it was also prodigious but largely unrecognized as she never wanted recognition for them. This is the only one still in use today. As for her desire to be a missionary in Africa, she did end up going there briefly, but had to leave when World War 1 broke out, relocating to Scotland. She later returned to America for ministry, but her health was broken. At age 72, she collapsed at a New York railroad station and died a few days later—reportedly of a ruptured appendix.

But her best-known hymn, “Have Thine Own Way, Lord,” birthed yet another hymn. This time it came to David Iverson, a native of the seaside Georgia town of Brunswick, whose education included—like Miss Pollard—time at Moody Bible Institute. He became a Presbyterian minister, serving throughout the southeastern United States. At age 36, he spent time with those holding citywide revival meetings in Orlando, Florida. A message by a doctor from Columbia, S.C., about the Holy Spirit, especially moved Iverson. That same day he went to a local Presbyterian church, sat down at the piano and composed the song while another musician wrote it in music manuscript form.

No doubt Iverson had learned Miss Pollard's hymn in years past, but he gave a fresh face to the potter image from Jeremiah. With a melody using only five notes, it proved to be a simple yet meaningful song to draw singers or listeners to an attitude of prayer. “Spirit of the Living God” was first published in 1929, then in numerous other hymnals.

Just a postscript: the year after writing this hymn, Pastor Iverson organized the Shenandoah Presbyterian Church in Miami. The first sanctuary was an old rustic dance hall. He would serve that congregation until his retirement in 1951. One of his sons would succeed him as pastor as the church grew and reached out to the needs of its Hispanic and Nicaraguan congregants. As has happened with many shrinking congregations in impoverished areas, the historic church structure was demolished in 2019.

But music that reaches into the soul doesn't go away as easily. Iverson's lyrics--"Melt me, mold me, fill me”--still quietly and profoundly describe the deepening soul.

For worshipful listening, visit these YouTube sites.

Sarah Pollard's hymn: Have Thine Own Way, Lord with Lyrics - YouTube

David Iverson's hymn: Spirit of the Living God ~ Invitation Music ~ lyric video - YouTube

EUPHEMISTICALLY CORRECT

The dreary, dead-of-winter months can really drag us down, especially those prone to feeling wrung out. I have one of those “happy lights” (mimicking healthy sunlight) by my desk. I also seek out positive ways to relate to everyday spiritual challenges. That's why a few years ago I decided to read Dr. Martyn Lloyd-Jones' book, Spiritual Depression (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1965). Trained as a doctor, he'd seen his share of depressed patients. But as a Bible scholar, he also dispensed scriptural wisdom about circumstances and people who get us “down.”

In his chapter titled “Fear of the Future,” Lloyd-Jones referred to 2 Timothy 1:7: “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (KJV). Timothy, who was the apostle Paul's young protege pastor, needed a reminder that God was sufficient in every way as he pastored some challenging church plants. The same truth applies to us in whatever spiritual challenges we face. Lloyd-Jones remarked of Paul's words for God's enabling:

Though you and I may be timorous and nervous, the Spirit that God has given us is the Spirit of control, the Spirit of discipline, the Spirit of judgment. (p. 104)

He illustrated this point with a story from English history in the mid-to-late 1600s. At that time, the commoners were at odds with the Stuart line of kings for interfering in the affairs of the Presbyterian church of Scotland. Actually, “at odds” is a bland term for the severe penalties faced by the common Scottish believers who called themselves “Covenanters.”

The story goes like this. A young girl (from a Covenanter family) was headed toward a secret, prohibited communion service when stopped by the king's soldiers. Her freedom, perhaps even her life, were at stake. Her conscience would not permit her to lie. Instead, she used euphemisms in explaining her trip:

“My Elderly Brother has died and they are going to read His will this afternoon, and He has done something for me and has left something for me, and I want to hear them read the will.”

Yes, at that critical moment, she replied with power, love and a sound mind, and they let her go. Her “elder brother” who had died was Christ. At the communion service, she would hear His “will” read (scripture), reviewing what He had done for her and left for her.

Lloyd-Jones remarked of this illustration, intended to encourage those prone to spiritual depression:

Instead of allowing the future and thoughts of it to grip you, talk to yourself, remind yourself of who you are and what you are, and of what Spirit is within you; and , having reminded yourself of the character of the Spirit, you will be able to go steadily forward, fearing nothing, living in the present, ready for the future, with one desire only, to glorify Him who gave His all for you. (p. 105)

During winter's gray days (especially for those of us in colder climates), it's a message of Light worth “soaking in”...and practicing. God is able to give us the right words—and the right attitude—when we depend on Him! 

Worth repeating when you look out on a gray day: "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it" (Psalm 181:24 KJV).