Adult: "This is the newest WELS church in Appleton?"
Child: "Where's the cross?"
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Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "Out of the Mouths of Babes":
Child: "Which one of the dudes here is the pastor?"
The Glory Has Departed
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Out of the Mouths of Babes
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4 comments:
Sweetie, this church is less about the Word of God than playing religion. That is why there is no cross.
Child: "Which one of the dudes here is the pastor?"
Next time you're on the way to a pastors conference, for inspiration, drive through the formerly bustling commercial sections of the inner city. Pick that section that has been bereft of capital for the last half-century. If you need a map, start with any street named "Martin Luther King Jr."
As you pass block after block of blight, and frankly, that part of town when you know the Old Evil Foe's himself frequently leads his prowling Legion, nestled in there every few blocks you'll find storefront Christian church.
Keeping out the squatters is the only rent these bootstrap churches pay. Heaven knows they don't have any offerings or lush grants. The street preacher either sleeps on a cot in the back, or he lives out of his suitcase, sleeping in whatever spare bedroom a parishioner has, careful to remember his shaving kit in the morning.
Yet out of this poverty, these dire circumstances, this intractable poverty, these preachers somehow...*somehow*... manage to scape together enough spare change to find some shoe polish and, however humble, put a CROSS right smack dab on the front of their church for all the world to see.
+ Diet O. Worms
1. Jesus! and shall it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?
2. Ashamed of Jesus? Sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star.
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.
3. Ashamed of Jesus? Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon.
'Tis midnight with my soul till He,
Bright Morning Star, bids darkness flee.
4. Ashamed of Jesus, that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No; when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.
5. Ashamed of Jesus? Yes, I may
When I'v no guilt to wash away,
No tear to wipe, no joy to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
6. Till then--nor is the boasting vain--
Till then I boast a Savior slain.
AND OH, MAY THIS MY PORTION BE,
THAT CHRIST IS NO ASHAMED OF ME!
TLH #346
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