My Christian Name
MY Christian name, my Christian name,
I never hear it now:
None have the right to utter it,
'T is lost, I scare know how.
My worldly name the world speaks loud;
Thank God for well-earned fame!
But silence sits at my cold hearth,--
I have no household name.
My Christian name, my Christian name,
It has an uncouth sound;
My mother chose it out of those
In Bible pages found:
Mother, whose accents made half sweet
What else I held in shame,
Dost thou remember up in heaven
My poor lost Christian name?
Brothers and sisters, mockers oft
Of the quaint name I bore,
Would I could leap back years, to hear
Ye shout it out once more!
One speaks it still, in written lines,
The last fraternal claim:
But the wide seas between us drown
Its sound--my Christian name.
I had a long dream once. Her voice
Might breathe the homely word,
And make it music--as love makes
Any name, said or heard.
O, dumb, dumb lips!--O, silent heart!
Though it is no ones' blame:
Now while I live I'll never hear
Her speak my Christian name.
God send her bliss, and send me rest!
If her white footsteps calm
Should track my bleeding feet, God make
To them each blood-drop balm!
Peace--peace. O mother, put thou forth
Thine elder, holier claim,
And the first word I hear in heaven
May be my Christian name.
poem by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Thus Christian humanism is as indispensable to the Christian way of life as Christian ethics and a Christian sociology.
quote by Christopher Dawson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Who Is A Christian?
Who is a Christian in this Christian land
Of many churches and of lofty spires?
Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews
Bought by the profits of unholy greed,
And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain.
Not he who sends petitions from the lips
That lie to-morrow in the street and mart.
Not he who fattens on another's toil,
And flings his unearned riches to the poor,
Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage,
And builds cathedrals with an increased rent.
Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of love,
How must Thou weary of Earth's 'Christian' clans,
Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood
While planning slaughter of their fellow men.
Who is a Christian? It is one whose life
Is built on love, on kindness and on faith;
Who holds his brother as his other self;
Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE,
And hides no aim or purpose in his heart
That will not chord with universal good.
Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew,
That man is Christian and beloved of Christ.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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God Motivates Multiple Actions In My Life
my neighbor proclaims I am not a Christian
because I do not show go to church Sunday
she is correct I am not a Christian as she is?
this is all that she is correct in...
I do not claim to be a good Christian...
I do not even claim to be a Christian...
although every hour every day God
motivates many multiple actions in my life
God even at times enters my dreams
motivates the first actions of my day
after I arise from precious sleeping
even in sleep God is part of my life
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Armchair Christian
All hail the Armchair Christian!
Pointing out the wrongs of others,
One sin at a time.
Fighting the spiritual battle,
From the comfort of your living room.
Your God is tailor made.
He fits you like a fine custom suit.
You could live a life that's abundant.
You choose to live one that is redundant.
To serve is what you expect from others.
You wear a cloak of self-righteousness.
You can do no wrong Armchair Christian.
You were given the special pass.
Your keenness can detect sin from a mile away.
It's is easy for you.
For you are spotless.
Throwing around scripture like an actor performing on stage.
Saying the lines you feel define the story.
Skipping the scenes you feel do not.
If God needed an Editor for the bible,
You would be him.
For we seek Your wisdom.
You give what you have to.
Not what you can.
That is the job of others.
This is how you put others before self.
Ask not what you can do for your brothers and sisters,
But what they can do for you.
Because you deserve it.
You point out my sins,
But there are 3 fingers pointing back.
This must be a mere formality?
When my judgment comes,
Will you be my counsel Armchair Christian?
You know all the loopholes.
The bible is black and white.
But you make it gray.
Get out of your seat Armchair Christian.
If you're not too busy.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Holy Spirit makes a man a Christian, and if he is a Christian through the work of the Holy Spirit, that same Spirit draws him to other Christians in the church. An individual Christian is not Christian at all.
quote by R. Brokhoff
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Moslem And The Christian
by mere chance one day
the christian and the moslem become neighbors
the moslem fenced his house
for fear that the christian may squat a part of its porch
the christian on the other hand
instructs his children not to befriend his children
for fear of betrayal
the moslem too instructs his kids to watch over their sleepers
the christians mind you steal from the moslems he said
the christian is cautious too
on the thinking that moslems are terrorists
on these set of prejudices
they can never live happily ever after
thus the christian-moslem story never ends.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Sonnet: On Being a Christian
Like Christ’s, a Christian 's life will have to be;
Like Him, he'll carry crosses all his life;
He'll live amidst a world of treachery;
His love of God gets reinforced by strife.
Like Christ, the world will unfairly treat him;
And punish him for 'crimes' which he ne'er did;
His woes and foes will make his life so grim;
Nevertheless, they will fail in their bid.
For Holy Spirit guides each Christian!
Against devils, evils, misdeeds and sin;
He walks boldly in the road to Heaven;
On earth and Heaven, the 'Xian will win.
A Christian's life tho' difficult is best;
And Christ will help him pass the final test.
poem by John Celes
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To The White People Of America
O'er this wide extended country,
Hear the solemn echoes roll,
For a long and weary century,
Those cries have gone from pole to pole;
See the white man sway his sceptre,
In one hand he holds the rod—
In the other hand the Scripture,
And says that he's a man of God.
Hear ye that mourning?
'Tis your brothers' cry!
O! ye wicked men take warning,
The day will come when you must die.
Lo! Ten thousand steeples shining
Through this mighty Christian land,
While four millions slaves all pining
And dying 'neath the Tyrant's hand.
See the 'blood-stained' Christian banner
Followed by a host of saints
While they loudly sing Hosannah,
We hear the dying slave's complaints:
Hear ye that mourning?
Anglo-sons of God,
O! ye Hypocrites take warning,
And shun your sable brothers blood.
In our Legislative members,
Few there are with humane souls,
Though they speak in tones of thunder
'Gainst sins which they cannot control,
Women's rights and annexation,
Is the topic by the way,
While poor Africa's sable nation
For mercy, cry both by night and day.
Hear ye that mourning?
'Tis a solemn sound,
O! ye wicked men take warning,
For God will send his judgment down.
Tell us not of distant Island —
Never will we colonize:
Send us not to British Highlands,
For this is neither just nor wise,
Give us equal rights and chances,
All the rights of citizens —
And as light and truth advances,
We'll show you that we all are men.
Hear ye that mourning?
Tis your brothers sigh,
O! ye wicked men take warning,
The judgment day will come by
poem by Joshua McCarter Simpson
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Annie Christian
Annie christian wanted to be number 1
But her kingdom never comes, thy will be done
She couldnt stand the glory, she would be 2nd to none
The way annie tells the story, shes his only son
Annie christian wanted to be a big star
So she moved to atlanta and she bought a blue car
She killed black children, and whats fair is fair
If u try and say ure crazy, everybody say electric chair
Electric chair
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified, Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian was a whore always looking for some fun
Being good was such a bore, so she bought a gun
She killed john lennon, shot him down cold
She tried to kill reagan, everybody say gun control
Gun control
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Liar liar liar! got ya in a jam
Put your head on the block, somebody say abscam
Abscam
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
Annie christian, annie christ
Until ure crucified Ill live my life in taxicabs
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sunday Christians
today is Sunday
the one day sunday christians
are off to church
these are the Christians
who are only Christian
one day Sunday a week
Christians for only one day?
one day sunday for a few hours?
sin of Hypocrisy in Christianity?
is one of the most detestable sins
it causes righteous worshippers to stumble
it takes the name of God in vain
my neighbor proclaims I am not a Christian
because I do not show go to church Sunday
she is correct I am not a Christian as she is?
this is all that she is correct in...
I do not claim to be a good Christian...
I do not even claim to be a Christian...
although every hour every day God
motivates many multiple actions in my life
God even at times enters my dreams
motivates the first actions of my day
after I arise from precious sleeping
even in sleep God is part of my life
I am Christian Buddhist Muslim Jewish
I am respectful of all who worship God
respectful of all who worship in sincerity
God said love your neighbor
I love them and pity them both
God said thy shall not judge
I am mindful of my own sins
I have pity for the sins suffering of others
I rejoice in my Lord Savior Jesus
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Jesus Calls Us
Jesus calls us; o'er the tumult
of our life's wild, restless sea,
day by day his clear voice soundeth,
saying, 'Christian, follow me;'
as, of old, Saint Andrew heart it
by the Galilean lake,
turned from home and toil and kindred,
leaving all for his dear sake.
Jesus calls us from the worship
of the vain world's golden store;
from each idol that would keep us,
saying, 'Christian, love me more.'
In our joys and in our sorrows,
days of toil and hours of ease,
still he calls, in cares and pleasures,
'Christian, love me more than these.'
Jesus calls us! By thy mercies,
Savior, may we hear thy call,
give our hearts to thine obedience,
serve and love thee best of all.
poem by Cecil Frances Alexander
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Alone in Silence
Alone in Silence
Christian U. Garan
As I walk along the aisle with trees side by side,
Not a single sound or dichotomous noise collide
My footsteps, I can even hardly recognize!
Silence traps me during that moment, I realize.
It seems that I am in the middle of my dream.
Controlled by my own mind while the world’s at rest in dim
I travel there with uncertainty deep inside
Then, silence blankets me and no one is there to guide
I want to run and shout but there’s no voice in me.
I wish I could flee from that unwanted fantasy.
Yet, the more I resist, the more the things go wrong!
What is it with silence that makes it a dreadful song?
Oh! Why should I feel in agony with silence?
Without seclusion, can I savor the life’s essence?
Then, I apprehend the intent of life’s muteness.
Silence fathoms the depth of our faith in His goodness.
poem by Christian Garan
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Christian soldier
The Christian Soldier,
The Christian soldier goes to fight, a war on evil, every day and night,
Fighting for what the Lord God says. Is only right, with all their might;
They fight the enemy, for peace and truth, yet they are so brave,
And Jesus showed why we go, when He died our souls to save.
The Christian soldier has his armor, his breast plate, and His helmet too,
Then comes feet shod with the preparation of peace, this is True
Truth and Mercy are on the soldiers side, for the enemies destruction,
And with it comes the sword of God, and we're safe under Gods redemption.
The Christian Soldier, those, who have been washed and bought with a price,
The price of the lamb, And we'll win the war, against the enemy who isn't nice;
We have the Words of Christ, bestowed on us, promises from above,
They're full of Wisdom, truth, and justice, they were given to us in love.
poem by Margaret Haig
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The point is that there is tremendous hypocrisy among the Christian right. And I think that Christian voters should start looking at global warming and extreme poverty as a religious issue that speaks to the culture of life.
quote by Al Franken
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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VANAMIKA – ‘the lily of the forest’
A pregnant Christian mother
Ran for the forest’s shelter
To save two lives!
And in the forest’s coolness
And in the light with darkness
Was born her child!
She named her ‘Vanamika’
(‘The lily of the forest’)
– A mother’s joy!
This happened in Orissa
Where Christians were driven out
To the forest!
Churches have been vandalized;
Most Christian homes have been burned;
Some burnt alive!
Work of Hindu fanatics
Who loot and burn and destroy
All things, Christian!
‘You can change a person’s mind;
You can kill the body too,
But you can’t touch the soul! ’
Christians are followers of Christ;
Soldiers of Christ Jesus;
Children of God.
The Holy Spirit within
Keeps Christians from every sin;
They always win!
O God of Heaven, save us,
From orgies of hell on earth,
Unleashed by men!
Bring back peace to Orissa;
Rebuild churches, homes destroyed;
Spread the Love of Christ!
Send an angel, God, we ask,
For the miraculous task;
All evil-doers unmask!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 10-01-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Think About It
I reflect on years past.
Knowing I did try.
I did my best.
I made my mistakes.
And learned from them.
I tried to right the wrongs of my past.
I tried to become the best person I could be.
Not for me though.
For someone I love.
You look as if I said something wrong.
Why is that?
You're a Christian?
I should put myself first?
Where does it say that in the bible?
Oh, mine must be missing that chapter.
I know,
It's called the book of You.
I don't know where it fits in exactly.
But I'm sure You do.
You know everything.
Self before others.
Make God right with Yourself.
Serve others, if the money is good enough.
So if I ask You what the meaning of life is,
You can tell me?
I Love Your Christian talk.
I Love Your Christian walk.
Or should I say strut.
You read the bible?
Well I read you, like a book.
You are about as transparent as a window.
I see through you completely.
Can you see me through your window?
Oh wait.
You are looking into a mirror.
What is the truth?
Your truth, my truth or His truth?
Is God's love tough love?
Or is it us that makes it tough?
My bible is in black and white.
You must have the gray version.
Take the easy way out.
You are only hurting yourself.
Turn the other cheek.
Did Jesus climb off the cross when it hurt too much?
Would You have told him too?
Would You say it's not worth it to him?
Or are You glad He said, “It is done.”?
Think about it!
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
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The Decline of the West
Now it is not good for the Christian's health to hustle the Aryan
brown,
For the Christian riles, and the Aryan smiles, and he weareth the
Christian down;
And the end of the fight is a tombstone white with the name of
the late deceased,
And the epitaph drear: "A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the
East."
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Dying Child
Mother, I'm tired, and I would fain be sleeping;
Let me repose upon thy bosom sick;
But promise me that thou wilt leave off weeping,
Because thy tears fall hot upon my cheek.
Here it is cold: the tempest raveth madly;
But in my dreams all is so wondrous bright;
I see the angel-children smiling gladly,
When from my weary eyes I shut out light.
Mother, one stands beside me now! and, listen!
Dost thou not hear the music's sweet accord?
See how his white wings beautifully glisten?
Surely those wings were given him by the Lord!
Green, gold, and red, are floating all around me;
They are the flowers the angel scattereth.
Should I have also wings while life has bound me?
Or, mother, are they given alone in death?
Why dost thou clasp me as if I were going?
Why dost thou press thy cheek so unto mine?
Thy cheek is hot, and yet thy tears are flowing!
I will, dear mother, will be always thine!
Do not sigh thus - it marreth my reposing;
But if thou weep, then I must weep with thee!
Ah, I am tired - my weary eyes are closing -
Look, mother, look! the angel kisseth me!
poem by Hans Christian Andersen
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My object will be, if possible, to form Christian men, for Christian boys I can scarcely hope to make.
quote by Thomas Arnold
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Being born in a Christian home does not make you a Christian.
quote by E. Stanley Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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