Final Trio

A few words now on chapter 11 (faith), chapter 12 (chastening) and chapter 13 (new sacrifices).Many are familiar with the faith chapter and its glorious listing of the victories of heroes in the Old Testament. Remember that the writer is addressing a Jewish bunch. He must be respectful to their inspiring tradition; at the same time driving home the point that trust in the finished work of Jesus is now paramount. Things have been very much “done” for us. The compulsion to “do” the many Jewish feasts and rules and regs of Exodus and Leviticus has been over-ridden. One must also note that the faith list includes almost an equal number of happy victories and noble martyrdoms. The lineage of heroes knew that there was something more – a city, a community under Messiah. The writer proclaims that it has now come and is fulfilling the hopes of his people.
Admittedly, the taking of a stance for Jesus at that time drew fire from the unbelieving and from the traditionalists. This was part of the chastening, disciplining or training which the Heavenly Father was allowing for His children. It was necessary. It was loving. It was forming champions who would eventually realize the consequent “peaceable fruit of righteousness”. (Watch how outstanding athletes struggle and strain on the field to acquire their mastery!) How we must recognize the difference today between the Father’s chastening and His displeasure. Ride through the storm saints. There are treasures.

The final chapter is a compendium of wisdom, much like James’ epistle. For me one thing stands out. There are new sacrifices. The old have been replaced. We are encouraged unto praise and thanksgiving, good deeds and generous fellowship. It is significant to note that the New Testament does not lay out for us detailed orders of worship, as did the Old. Rather we are to be led by the Spirit.

Chapter 13:

14For here have we no continuing city, but we seek one to come.

15By him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually, that is, the fruit of our lips giving thanks to his name.

16But to do good and to communicate forget not: for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.


Hush, Pause, Be Still

Not in the tumult of the rending storm,
Not in the earthquake or devouring flame;
But in the hush that could all fear transform,
The still, small whisper to the prophet came.
0 Soul, keep silence on the mount of God,
Though cares and needs throb around thee like a sea;
From supplications and desires unshod,
Be still, and hear what God shall say to thee.
All fellowship hath interludes of rest,
New strength maturing in each poise of power;
The sweetest Alleluias of the blest
Are silent, for the space of half an hour.
0 rest, in utter quietude of soul,
Abandon words, leave prayer and praise awhile;
Let thy whole being, hushed in His control,
Learn the full meaning of His voice and smile.
Not as an athlete wrestling for a crown,
Not taking Heaven by violence of will;
But with thy Father as a child sit down,
And know the bliss that follows His “Be Still!”

–Mary Rowles Jarvis


Celebrated a birthday yesterday. Wonderful time with family. And Son and girlfriend coming in tonight from Montreal. Gets sentimental I guess at age 66.

Happened upon this video of Gordon Lightfoot this morning. Home grown Orillia boy. Balladeer with many a story that just feels Canadian, tempered and happy. His lyrics I remember from college and summer jobs back in the 70’s. Still going at it touring and writing and recording.

Nothing in poetry or in folk music matches “Did She Mention My Name?”

Enjoy for a moment…another song and new to me…

Laughing Matter


It seems like a lark

And the giggles abound

And the parties and excess

Of fools must be found

There’s no time for hard issues

Or things of the heart

Because don’t you know

There’s a game we must start.

Has many cool levels

And weapons galore

And warriors and zombies

Like never before

And blood flows like water

And time just flies by

Not missing the outdoors

Or spring, no not I.

There’s time enough later

For training and work

But what are the chances

The world’s gone berserk

With terror and drive-bys

And government spin

And no one admits

All the debt we are in.

I’d rather be laughing

I’d rather be high

I’d rather be gaming

Than dutifully dry.

This life’s really short

Holding nothing beyond

So bring on the laughter

Before I am gone.


Note: We have little idea how many young people are stuck on this destructive, desensitizing, hopeless treadmill. No honest exchange. No real friendships. No workable skills. No sense of purpose. No hope of Heaven. And we think we are showing love by buying their approval with more of the same.

Robert Moffat

Gang awa frae tha Glen
Tae a fearsome place;
Where tha darkened souls
Hae na gleemps o’grace.
Where tha work must fit
A new tongue and race.
Gang awa frae tha Glen for a wheel.

“Tis for certs He has ca’d
Ye, and ye must roon;
Tae a land o’ plagues
And o’ blastin’ sun,
Where tha rule o’ richt
Hae just sceerce begun.
Gang awa frae tha Glen, Robbie, chile.

There be muckle tae ken
O’ tha people’s need;
O’ tha crops that thrive,
O’ tha life they lead;
O’ tha daily thirst;
O’ their warfare, greed.
Gang awa frae tha Glen, and be wise.

Tho’ tha ship be worsted,
Tho’ tha trail be long,
Tho’ tha beasts be awful,
Ye’ll arrive anon;
And commence tae cant
Tha sweet Gospel song.
Gang awa frae tha Glen, in His love.

And ye’ll spot tha dee
When it starts tae click.
As they bring their young,
And they bring their sick;
For o’ Jesus’ kind
They ken nae sic lik..
Gang awa frae tha Glen, tae be used.

An’ it’s nae sa muckle
That their needs ye know,
Whuch’ll fan tha flame,
Cause your strenth tae grow;
But tha confeedence
“Tis your Laird says, “Go!”
Gang awa frae tha Glen, ‘til you’re gone.

(Robert Moffat, Pioneer Missionary to South-west Africa)

Note: The story is told of the early day in the mission of Moffat when his camp was confronted by a prominent chieftain. The man demanded to know the purpose of the missionary’s visit and the authority who sent him.

Through an interpreter, Moffat advised that he represented the greatest of all Chiefs and that he was bringing news and help for the best in life. The native said that he would kill Moffat and his chief. The territory was under his absolute control. He brandished a menacing spear. His retinue stood at the ready.

Calmly Moffat loosened the breast of his jacket. Striding to within inches of the man’s face, he pointed to his own heart and said, “My Chief lives here. If you intend murder, do it now, for I will not be held back from my purpose.”

The other’s jaw dropped. His spear hand faltered. His bluff had been called. The two would soon become fast friends.


And We Are a Spectacle

And we are a spectacle

Coming last in the triumph

Of godless land-grabbers.

We wear animal skins

And sad countenance

While crowds on either side

Laugh and jeer.

“He trusted”, they say.

“She swore by her God.

Hah, God on this carnival day!”

And the music grates the senses

And the clowns’ grotesque smiles

Reek of perversion.

While we cry

Remembering Via Dolorosa

And the short-lived

Shame of our King.

He had it in Him

To despise the shame;

To look beyond

And climb the stairs

Of noble destiny.

So shall we.

Even now the costumes of contempt

Are dropping off

The fetters loosen.

Some from the sidelines

Even join our Cause.

And the King is surely up ahead.


2 Corinthians 6: 4-10