On my journey through religion's byways, and scandals in 1987 at the Full Gospel Tabernacle and other churches I attended, I encountered a motley group of individuals and was forced by the Lord to discern after the Spirit, not after the flesh, which, of course, deceived. There were those in church who apparently "loved" the Lord, but also mocked His truth and commandments with their behavior. Could I judge a righteous judgment against the church, the "believer"? The scripture says I can. Did I? I was mocked and not understood, walking after the Spirit, a Christ representative. I wrote this sonnet to cope. And eventually, the Lord led me onto another unexpected path.
Oh Lord, the scorners, mockers always there
Who would upend Your loving, generous self.
As such their darkness would my soul to wear
So they could justify their evil's stealth.
Do not receive your Being, and ignore
The coming of Your light to help their cause.
Such haughty, errant crassness won't repent.
Instead they'd mock the Lord and Calvary's cross.
As they feel nothing is their worth in life
Know not He is their source, He is their light.
They choose to cause self-torment, no respite
From inner turmoil, hate and inner strife.
Oh Father fuse their souls with thy Love's heart,
And separate them from the Dark One's arts.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
God vs. Satan: Two Sides of One Being for Mercy's Sake
Would I have known the extreme goodness of God's mercy if I had not known the extreme terror and pain of selfishness commensurate with an unregenerate soul? Would I have known grace if I had not wallowed in a sty of "lust of the eyes," "lust of the flesh," "the pride of life?" Would I have known the power of humility if I had not known the fear underlying an arrogant and boastful heart? I think not.
Evil serves goodness. Remember, where sin abounds, grace abounds more. That is scripture. What that means is, there is more grace in NYC (often called sin city) than in the cities of "righteousness" out west. Remember, Christ said it would be better for those of Sodom than for those of Capernum who denied the Lord. Let the Holy Spirit reveal what that means.
The man who exalts himself above the Lord,
Thinks that his will is uncontrolled and free.
But he is background noise, cacaphonous chords
That Satan strikes on lyres for all to see.
Such man's convinced decisions are his own,
Convinced his thoughts are his as are his friends.
His mind so vapid not know the unknown
That he's strung-up, a puppet for Satan's ends.
Before the Lord brings Light, Sins' slaves we toil
As slaves of Satan chained and bondaged, bound.
At God's appointing we see we're despoiled
But God's ordained such torment 'til we're found.
So understand, our life is not our own.
His opposite sides imbue His merciful throne.
Evil serves goodness. Remember, where sin abounds, grace abounds more. That is scripture. What that means is, there is more grace in NYC (often called sin city) than in the cities of "righteousness" out west. Remember, Christ said it would be better for those of Sodom than for those of Capernum who denied the Lord. Let the Holy Spirit reveal what that means.
The man who exalts himself above the Lord,
Thinks that his will is uncontrolled and free.
But he is background noise, cacaphonous chords
That Satan strikes on lyres for all to see.
Such man's convinced decisions are his own,
Convinced his thoughts are his as are his friends.
His mind so vapid not know the unknown
That he's strung-up, a puppet for Satan's ends.
Before the Lord brings Light, Sins' slaves we toil
As slaves of Satan chained and bondaged, bound.
At God's appointing we see we're despoiled
But God's ordained such torment 'til we're found.
So understand, our life is not our own.
His opposite sides imbue His merciful throne.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Agape (In C.S. Lewis' Discussion of Four Loves-Agape is greatest)
In C.S. Lewis' brilliant The Four Loves the author discusses the greatest of love, agape which is Christ's love. First, it is a spiritual, divine and all-encompassing love. It is given freely with no expectation of return. For those unfamiliar with Christ's love or for those who are just beginning to understand the depth of it, it seems impossible to bestow. This is the "turn the other cheek love." Turning the other cheek requires superhuman effort, divinely inspired; in fact it is impossible unless one is in Christ's spirit and renewing one's mind in the Word daily.
From the perspective of one on the receiving end, if they are not in Christ's spiritual adulthood, often they do not realize what it is. How can they without God's wisdom of understanding at that adult level? Such love is incomprehensible to the human mind. All manner of twisting and distortion occurs about it until finally the anointing breaks through (probably years later) and the understanding comes to the one on the receiving end. Most likely, the individual giving the agape and the "receptor" have long gone to other spheres of influence. As the Word says: the seed was planted, one came and watered, another tilled the soil around the plant, another provided the sustenance, etc.
This sonnet is representative of such agape love which is spiritual and never physical. The closest thing to the physicality of agape is feeling inner peace, warmth and forgiveness; it's power can send chills running up and down one's spine at its recognition and its presence. Being physical is so far beneath agape; it is mortal and selfish. It can indeed, kill agape love: objectify another's soul making it a nonentity (think what the Nazis did to eradicate self/identity in the concentration camps).
In human terms the closest thing would be to say agape is like platonic love. However, agape is much greater than that because it leads to redemption and renewal of the soul to Christ. Platonic love does not entail Christ, the anointing, the spiritual level of wisdom and faith. Platonic love is mental and intellectual. Platonic love remains on a plane of logic. Agape defies logic. That's why it's impossible to understand, unless divine understanding is given to understand: someone plants, someone waters, someone tills, someone gives sustenance, etc. It takes time.
Oh Michael, Christ emboldened you with Love.
This Grace bestowed upon His chosen ones.
In hallowed sanctity of world's above
The carnal, worldly realms we surely shun.
And you, confounded, and perplexed, undone,
By that, you cannot seem to grasp or see,
Will learn in seasons ripe that you are One,
With Him in fullness of His unity.
A vessel or an ark, a ship, stalwart,
He's making of your soul to receive Him.
So don't throw off my Love* which fully starts
His process of your freedom from gross sin.
Just know this song of love envelopes you.
His love and mine are One with you in truth.
*agape love (no distortions please)
From the perspective of one on the receiving end, if they are not in Christ's spiritual adulthood, often they do not realize what it is. How can they without God's wisdom of understanding at that adult level? Such love is incomprehensible to the human mind. All manner of twisting and distortion occurs about it until finally the anointing breaks through (probably years later) and the understanding comes to the one on the receiving end. Most likely, the individual giving the agape and the "receptor" have long gone to other spheres of influence. As the Word says: the seed was planted, one came and watered, another tilled the soil around the plant, another provided the sustenance, etc.
This sonnet is representative of such agape love which is spiritual and never physical. The closest thing to the physicality of agape is feeling inner peace, warmth and forgiveness; it's power can send chills running up and down one's spine at its recognition and its presence. Being physical is so far beneath agape; it is mortal and selfish. It can indeed, kill agape love: objectify another's soul making it a nonentity (think what the Nazis did to eradicate self/identity in the concentration camps).
In human terms the closest thing would be to say agape is like platonic love. However, agape is much greater than that because it leads to redemption and renewal of the soul to Christ. Platonic love does not entail Christ, the anointing, the spiritual level of wisdom and faith. Platonic love is mental and intellectual. Platonic love remains on a plane of logic. Agape defies logic. That's why it's impossible to understand, unless divine understanding is given to understand: someone plants, someone waters, someone tills, someone gives sustenance, etc. It takes time.
Oh Michael, Christ emboldened you with Love.
This Grace bestowed upon His chosen ones.
In hallowed sanctity of world's above
The carnal, worldly realms we surely shun.
And you, confounded, and perplexed, undone,
By that, you cannot seem to grasp or see,
Will learn in seasons ripe that you are One,
With Him in fullness of His unity.
A vessel or an ark, a ship, stalwart,
He's making of your soul to receive Him.
So don't throw off my Love* which fully starts
His process of your freedom from gross sin.
Just know this song of love envelopes you.
His love and mine are One with you in truth.
*agape love (no distortions please)
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Cutting His Jemstones
Nowhere there is to hide. This jemstone's done.
The Father's cut this being prisim-like.
His gleaming facets, shine brilliant as the Son,
To pierce and flame all prayers. Heart flames strike
To blaze eternal fires to burst black stars
Who'd seek the darkness running from His plan.
No infinite space between, no distance far,
And no escape from cutting, chiseling hands.
Oh woe to scribes and pharisees who lie
And preach destruction on the innocent.
Oh woe Capernumites who'd faith decry
Condemn that their traditions Christ has rent.
Abundance, sustenance the Lord gives all
Those who abide in Him, answer His call.
The Father's cut this being prisim-like.
His gleaming facets, shine brilliant as the Son,
To pierce and flame all prayers. Heart flames strike
To blaze eternal fires to burst black stars
Who'd seek the darkness running from His plan.
No infinite space between, no distance far,
And no escape from cutting, chiseling hands.
Oh woe to scribes and pharisees who lie
And preach destruction on the innocent.
Oh woe Capernumites who'd faith decry
Condemn that their traditions Christ has rent.
Abundance, sustenance the Lord gives all
Those who abide in Him, answer His call.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Justice/Vengeance is Mine, Saith the Lord
From my perspective, I have a knack for helping others to the detriment of myself. I bestow upon them love, power, strength. I edify their souls and provide solace and comfort, sharing the anointing of love. And then, and then! No recognition of this is made that they appreciate. Sound familiar?
This happens, to everyone, I guess, maybe women especially give to men who expect such generosities and exigencies as their right and due. And sometimes, God help them if the men don't get it! Regardless of the "rightness" or "fairness" because it is not right or fair, there is a transference that occurs. To stand up, some stand on the heads of others crushing them down, ignoring them, not appreciating the blessing the individual has been to them. In the process the victim is sucked downward, his or her being darkening as the other reaches into the light.
For the one smashed and crashed into the fallow earth to join the worms, it is an unbearable experience that cries out for some morsel or grain of sustenance to be given by the crusher. Anything...a particle of dust. But often the dust is only in the dry mouth of the "obliterated" who is starved and drained. From the depths of my being, I understand this because it has happened to me on more than one occasion. And from the depths of my soul, I've cried out to God, "Enough." I guess the song, "If I hold my peace, and let the Lord fight my battles, victory will be mine." was the MO I followed. Hmm. Now, I tend to open my mouth, if I can or leave/ the poisoned creature to stew in its own formaldehyde because such behavior is death-filled.
This transference process is happening all over the world by the way. A metaphor for the economics and politics of the class system which is very much alive burgeoning, in fact. The wealthy live to squash into the brown earth those of the same skin tones. Does their blood, the infeebled's, blood not cry out to God? Oh, I forgot. They are the tribal heathen. The Caucasian male imperialists (fast becoming a minority) who now use globalism to expand their empires, are more righteous because money is righteousness and truth. (They used to use Biblical scriptures and their "notion" of God, until many realized who the true hypocritical heathen were.) You can pay to reverse/eliminate/wipe out truth, you know. History books are filled with the vacuation of truths that publishers can believe in.
So the sonnet, though intensely individual for me at the time of the church scandals in May of 1987, applies to many whose blood screams out at injustice and cruelty where generosity and love have been given without a smidgeon of acknowledgement in return.
My blood screams piercing through the universe,
"The debt be paid, the debt you owe to me!"
Those stolen coverings from me dispersed,
To gain the Kingdom Son's authority.
The Pain, the curse on me allowed you to
Enjoy prosperity and favored love,
While I abused and tortured, defamed, too,
Took sin whilst you looked Godly as His Dove.
The price I've paid for you to gain His Rod,
In recompense from you must be returned.
So all your harlot boasts I overtrod
To gain all riches that my blood has earned.
Christ's debts must be fulfilled by sufferings, yours!
I'll shine forth Jesus' Glory as you're cursed!
This happens, to everyone, I guess, maybe women especially give to men who expect such generosities and exigencies as their right and due. And sometimes, God help them if the men don't get it! Regardless of the "rightness" or "fairness" because it is not right or fair, there is a transference that occurs. To stand up, some stand on the heads of others crushing them down, ignoring them, not appreciating the blessing the individual has been to them. In the process the victim is sucked downward, his or her being darkening as the other reaches into the light.
For the one smashed and crashed into the fallow earth to join the worms, it is an unbearable experience that cries out for some morsel or grain of sustenance to be given by the crusher. Anything...a particle of dust. But often the dust is only in the dry mouth of the "obliterated" who is starved and drained. From the depths of my being, I understand this because it has happened to me on more than one occasion. And from the depths of my soul, I've cried out to God, "Enough." I guess the song, "If I hold my peace, and let the Lord fight my battles, victory will be mine." was the MO I followed. Hmm. Now, I tend to open my mouth, if I can or leave/ the poisoned creature to stew in its own formaldehyde because such behavior is death-filled.
This transference process is happening all over the world by the way. A metaphor for the economics and politics of the class system which is very much alive burgeoning, in fact. The wealthy live to squash into the brown earth those of the same skin tones. Does their blood, the infeebled's, blood not cry out to God? Oh, I forgot. They are the tribal heathen. The Caucasian male imperialists (fast becoming a minority) who now use globalism to expand their empires, are more righteous because money is righteousness and truth. (They used to use Biblical scriptures and their "notion" of God, until many realized who the true hypocritical heathen were.) You can pay to reverse/eliminate/wipe out truth, you know. History books are filled with the vacuation of truths that publishers can believe in.
So the sonnet, though intensely individual for me at the time of the church scandals in May of 1987, applies to many whose blood screams out at injustice and cruelty where generosity and love have been given without a smidgeon of acknowledgement in return.
My blood screams piercing through the universe,
"The debt be paid, the debt you owe to me!"
Those stolen coverings from me dispersed,
To gain the Kingdom Son's authority.
The Pain, the curse on me allowed you to
Enjoy prosperity and favored love,
While I abused and tortured, defamed, too,
Took sin whilst you looked Godly as His Dove.
The price I've paid for you to gain His Rod,
In recompense from you must be returned.
So all your harlot boasts I overtrod
To gain all riches that my blood has earned.
Christ's debts must be fulfilled by sufferings, yours!
I'll shine forth Jesus' Glory as you're cursed!
Friday, November 4, 2011
Move
I wrote the sonnet above in the 1990s when my life was adrift. When has it not been? But it seemed that nothing was happening and there was such immobility and stasis. I was a bridge hand in the waiting mode, looking to win my tricks, but the time for me was interminably slow. My job, my personal life all yielded a void, somehow, and the writing goals I had were on treacherous hold. I was growing older and there was no stopping the clock. I needed to MOVE!
Eventually, even a slug moves or dies. I was, as in many periods of my life, near death, death...of the will, heart and soul. And I cried out to God. My soul released some of its torment. He came and helped...and lead me away from death's maws and readied me for the next crying out.
MOVE
Oh Father, lift me up. My spirit's low,
And lead me to your pastures soft and warm,
Away from treacherous shoals and labyrinth's woe,
And darkness, smothering will to static forms.
Oh Father, spur my spirit toward the fields
Of light and rest and peace, sweet action's womb.
Produce momentum; in energy do seal
My essence. Repel the vacuum, inaction's tomb.
Oh Father, fasten my conscience to your Love.
Fire my will to melt with Yours, then seat,
Me in Your wisdom's throne. And Holy Dove,
Enfold me in Your wings; the void defeat.
Cruel resignation, stasis and delay,
Are vanquished by Jehovah's Will and Way.
Eventually, even a slug moves or dies. I was, as in many periods of my life, near death, death...of the will, heart and soul. And I cried out to God. My soul released some of its torment. He came and helped...and lead me away from death's maws and readied me for the next crying out.
MOVE
Oh Father, lift me up. My spirit's low,
And lead me to your pastures soft and warm,
Away from treacherous shoals and labyrinth's woe,
And darkness, smothering will to static forms.
Oh Father, spur my spirit toward the fields
Of light and rest and peace, sweet action's womb.
Produce momentum; in energy do seal
My essence. Repel the vacuum, inaction's tomb.
Oh Father, fasten my conscience to your Love.
Fire my will to melt with Yours, then seat,
Me in Your wisdom's throne. And Holy Dove,
Enfold me in Your wings; the void defeat.
Cruel resignation, stasis and delay,
Are vanquished by Jehovah's Will and Way.
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