Hymn 130
Love and hatred.
Phil. 2:2; Eph. 4:30,etc.
Now by the bowels of my God,
His sharp distress, his sore complaints,
By his last groans, his dying blood,
I charge my soul to love the saints.
Clamor, and wrath, and war, begone,
Envy and spite, for ever cease;
Let bitter words no more be known
Amongst the saints, the sons of peace.
The Spirit, like a peaceful dove,
Flies from the realms of noise and strife:
Why should we vex and grieve his love
Who seals our souls to heav'nly life?
Tender and kind be all our thoughts,
Through all our lives let mercy run;
So God forgives our num'rous faults,
For the dear sake of Christ his Son.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 102
The Beatitudes.
Mt. 5:3-12.
[Blest are the humble souls that see
Their emptiness and poverty;
Treasures of grace to them are giv'n,
And crowns of joy laid up in heav'n.]
[Blest are the men of broken heart,
Who mourn for sin with inward smart
The blood of Christ divinely flows,
A healing balm for all their woes.]
[Blest are the meek, who stand afar
From rage and passion, noise and war;
God will secure their happy state,
And plead their cause against the great.]
[Blest are the souls that thirst for grace,
Hunger and long for righteousness;
They shall be well supplied, and fed
With living streams and living bread.]
[Blest are the men whose bowels move
And melt with sympathy and love;
From Christ the Lord shall they obtain
Like sympathy and love again.]
[Blest are the pure, whose hearts arc clean
From the defiling powers of sin;
With endless pleasure they shall see
A God of spotless purity.]
[Blest are the men of peaceful life,
Who quench the coals of growing strife;
They shall be called the heirs of bliss,
The sons of God, the God of peace.]
[Blest are the suff'rers who partake
Of pain and shame for Jesus' sake;
Their souls shall triumph in the Lord
Glory and joy are their reward.]
poem by Isaac Watts
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We Are Saints
I’ve been sanctified, set apart, for God’s service from the start,
The very moment that I believed, when Christ’s Spirit I received,
I was indeed, set apart by God, while still upon this earthly sod,
Sealed by the Spirit of Christ, for God’s purpose within this life.
All believers are God’s holy ones, truly set apart, by God’s Son,
Becoming saints while on earth, through the power of New Birth,
Indeed, not by the choice of men, but when we were Born Again,
We’re true saints of The Living God, led on earth by Christ’s rod.
Saints, according to God’s Grace, for His purpose on this place,
To have an impact, in this world, as His Truth we fervently herald,
Truth that states we are saints, regardless of what religion paints,
Saints, chosen by Christ The Lord, truth, that by many is ignored.
We are saints, as God has willed, with His purpose to be fulfilled,
Not simply saints for another time, but on earth by God’s Design,
Separated from this world’s plan, to be used by The Son of Man,
In spreading the Gospel of Christ, while in this present earthly life.
We’re not saints for just above, but here by God for sharing love,
The love of His Saving Gospel, as this for believers is God’s will,
To fill with saints the Church of God, those upon this earthly sod,
Then we can spend Eternal Life, saints together with Jesus Christ.
(Copyright ©01/2012)
Hymn 14
The triumph of faith or, Christ's unchangeable love.
Rom. 8:33ff.
Who shall the Lord's elect condemn?
'Tis God that justifies their souls;
And mercy, like a mighty stream,
O'er all their sins divinely rolls.
Who shall adjudge the saints to hell?
'Tis Christ that suffered in their stead;
And, the salvation to fulfil,
Behold him rising from the dead!
He lives! he lives and sits above,
For ever interceding there:
Who shall divide us from his love?
Or what should tempt us to despair?
Shall persecution, or distress,
Famine, or sword, or nakedness?
He that hath loved us bears us through,
And makes us more than conquerors too.
Faith hath an overcoming power;
It triumphs in the dying hour:
Christ is our life, our joy, our hope,
Nor can we sink with such a prop.
Not all that men on earth can do,
Nor powers on high, nor powers below,
Shall cause his mercy to remove,
Or wean our hearts from Christ our love.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Who Are The Saints?
Just who are the Saints my friend, let The Word help you comprehend?
Are Saints a select religious few, selected by a tiny hand picked crew?
Are they made for worship by men, which by Christ will be condemned?
Or are they men like me and you, who have come into a life that’s new?
Call no one on earth Father Jesus said, it’s in Matthew haven’t you read?
For we have but one Father in Heaven, all else is simply religious leaven.
Men’s pious religious veneration, has nothing to do with true Salvation.
True Saints are humbled when, they realize they should be condemned.
All those who come to Christ in faith, are said by God to be His Saints.
Saints are the men set apart by God, while still upon this earth we trod.
We become a Saint when we believe, so please friend, don’t be deceived.
The Bible said that men would fall away, in the spiritual apostasy of today.
What about the Saints at Ephesus, should these men be respected less?
What about the Saints at Rome, the Pope or Vatican wasn’t even known?
Why not believe the words of Christ, if we’re serious about Eternal Life?
The Holy Spirit is the one who seals, all God’s living Saints who are real.
Our worship should go to only one; and that is God and His Only Son.
Just one mediator between God and man, this is easy to understand.
The mediator is Jesus Christ; for Christ is the One who gave His life.
He gave His life for me and you; Christ died so we could live life anew.
Because of His work on the cross, we enter God’s throne with boldness.
He now intercedes for the Saints, who pray to God through humble faith.
Soon Christ will call His Saints up, to return with Him in eternal triumph.
Then religious men in fear will faint, when they see Christ’s real Saints.
Psalm 103 part 2
v.8-18
L. M.
God's gentle chastisement; or, His tender mercy to his people.
The Lord, how wondrous are his ways!
How firm his truth! how large his grace!
He takes his mercy for his throne,
And thence he makes his glories known.
Not half so high his power hath spread
The starry heav'ns above our head,
As his rich love exceeds our praise,
Exceeds the highest hopes we raise.
Not half so far hath nature placed
The rising morning from the west,
As his forgiving grace removes
The daily guilt of those he loves.
How slowly doth his wrath arise!
On swifter wings salvation flies;
And if he lets his anger burn,
How soon his frowns to pity turn
Amidst his wrath compassion shines;
His strokes are lighter than our sins
And while his rod corrects his saints,
His ear indulges their complaints.
So fathers their young sons chastise
With gentle hand and melting eyes;
The children weep beneath the smart,
And move the pity of their heart.
PAUSE.
The mighty God, the wise and just,
Knows that our frame is feeble dust;
And will no heavy loads impose
Beyond the strength that he bestows.
He knows how soon our nature dies,
Blasted by every wind that flies;
Like grass we spring, and die as soon,
Or morning flowers that fade at noon.
But his eternal love is sure
To all the saints, and shall endure;
From age to age his truth shall reign,
Nor children's children hope in vain.
poem by Isaac Watts
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The Lives Of The Saints Ii
The lives of the saints are very good
Because the saints takes care of their health and Hygiene very well
The saints always changes their clothes everyday because they transpire Very fast in heaven due to the heat that is turned on in the Winter in heaven
Yes it gets very hot in heaven that sometimes they have to open the Windows just a bit so they can get some fresh air
And heaven is home to the saints
But the saints love living in heaven because there is no noise or violence
During the day the saints leaves heaven and come down to earth to Help in a food bank and they get paid for their work
poem by Aldo Kraas
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The Lives Of The Saints
The lives of the saints are very good
Because the saints takes care of their health and Hygiene very well
The saints always changes their clothes everyday because they transpire Very fast in heaven due to the heat that is turned on in the winter in Heaven
Yes it gets very hot in heaven that sometimes they have to open the Windows just a bit so they can get some fresh air
And heaven is home to the saints
But the saints love living in heaven because there is no noise or Violence
During the day the saints leaves heaven and come down to earth to Help in a food bunk and they get paid for their work
poem by Aldo Kraas
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On Saints and Martyrs
Our sufferings are not greater than those
Martyrs, prophets, apostles, saints, who died,
A death of persecution for Christ's sake;
Upon their blood-shed sprung the Catholic Church!
Lives of all these holy persons reveal
The Holy Spirit dwelt within their flesh,
Emboldening their spirits to the core,
So that their faith remained until last breath!
Let Christians offer their sufferings to Christ,
Who took upon Himself all mankind's sins
And died upon the cross redeeming man,
And opened heaven to penitent souls!
How wonderful to bear witness to Christ!
Lord remembers all those who died for Him;
He promised eternity for those souls,
Who lived for Christ's sake all through their lives!
God's glory shines through exemplary lives,
Who lost their lives for sake of faith and Christ;
They will be closest to God in heaven,
Remaining so unto eternity!
poem by John Celes
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God’s Peace
There is a peace available, in troubled times, but not to all,
A peace available all the time, greater than peace of mind,
And this peace goes everywhere, to handle every tiny care,
But it has no limits to, the problems it can see you through.
The peace that I’m speaking of, will only come from above,
Peace God gives to His own, flowing down from His throne,
The peace of God all receive, when by faith they do believe,
The Gospel Truth of His Son, Christ, who died for everyone.
Though He died, now He lives, as this peace to us He gives,
Sent to believers in this life, to shelter them from daily strife,
The Holy Spirit is God’s agent, in whom God’s peace is sent,
The Spirit is our true comforter, giving us peace in trials sore.
This peace for us is secured, by the work done by The Lord,
And the only part left for us, is to place in The Lord our trust,
Then with a loving nod, Christ sends to us the peace of God,
A peace into a believer’s heart, that from God will not depart.
Peace always there for those, keeping eyes on He who rose,
Who gave to them a new life, centered in the peace of Christ,
This as that believer lives, through the Spirit that Christ gives,
Providing them God’s peace, in their heart that will not cease.
(Copyright ©02/2008)
Psalm 4
v. 1-3,5-7
L. M.
Hearing of prayer.
O God of grace and righteousness,
Hear and attend when I complain;
Thou hast enlarged me in distress,
Bow down a gracious ear again.
Ye sons of men, in vain ye try
To turn my glory into shame;
How long will scoffers love to lie,
And dare reproach my Savior's name?
Know that the Lord divides his saints
From all the tribes of men beside;
He hears the cry of penitents,
For the dear sake of Christ that died.
When our obedient bands have done
A thousand works of righteousness,
We put our trust in God alone,
And glory in his pardoning grace.
Let the unthinking many say,
"Who will bestow some earthly good?"
But, Lord, thy light and love we pray;
Our souls desire this heav'nly food.
Then shall my cheerful powers rejoice,
At grace and favors so divine;
Nor will I change my happy choice
For all their corn, and all their wine.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Love, Grief, Death, Peace and Life Make War
Love, grief, death, peace, and life make war.
Within the grasps of victory, here lies grief.
Striving to keep a soul alive, thriving for life
whispers of sanity fade from the sight of death.
An outstretched limb pleading for a touch of peace
as a memory of happiness fills the heart with love.
Controlling senses fester upon a long lost love,
breathing in deep, it’s the smell of a war.
Muffled cries creep into your soul, pleading for peace.
You lick your blood stained lips, tasting the bitter grief.
piercing voices thunder upon the ground, accepting death
as a memory of loneliness fills their heart with an absence of life.
Tears of blood come forth into a dimension of twisted life.
The air, heavy and hot, hover over you ridding the land of any former love.
A chorus of saints and sinners sing to you, singing the song of death,
”O come ye child, come into my arms and rid yourself of this war.
Gather your mind and venture to the morrow, leaving behind this haunting grief,
for it is not your fault that this world does not know peace.”
You close your eyes, feeling the sensation of eternal peace.
You can not move any aching limb, within an inch of life
you follow the scent of reigning mud, caking itself to the world’s own grief.
Wandering past the forgotten lives to seek the one true love
that carries upon it’s shoulders, a burden of war.
This land can no longer hold itself with peace as all the peace has turned to death.
Forging itself upon your spirit, the lies no longer live, now it is only death
that caresses your body like a mother so tender, illuminating the one and only peace.
Taunting you to go and be afraid no more, taunting and taunting, this is war.
With one last plea, you beg and cry for the voices to take your life
as you know that the searching prisms of hope will find your love
and they will abolish the need of any misery and any grief.
Once more do the saints and sinners sing of your grief
only this time, there is no mourning of war and death.
They’ve come to pour into your heart, a sound so divine. It is love.
”Dear child, dear child, no more shall you weep, we are here, we’re your peace.
Come with us to a land so pure, where love is eternal and death is not near. We will give you life.
With a trust so deep, take our hands and no more, no more, shall this be your burden of war.”
In times of sorrow and fear, lost is the value of love and peace.
All is forgotten while caged by grief and watching the slaughter of life.
You watch your fallen brothers, reaching for help, you hear the despair in all their voices.
You’re the saint and sinner, giving them hope.
You cease your thoughts, you must fight on.
You aim your gun, praying for death. This is war.
poem by Mason Letoto
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Psalm XXXIV: Lord, I Will Bless Thee
Lord, I will bless thee all my days,
Thy praise shall dwell upon my tongue;
My soul shall glory in thy grace,
While saints rejoice to hear the song.
Come, magnify the Lord with me,
Come, let us all exalt his name;
I sought th'eternal God, and he
Has not exposed my hope to shame.
I told him all my secret grief,
My secret groaning reached his ears;
He gave my inward pains relief;
And calmed the tumult of my fears.
To him the poor lift up their eyes,
Their faces feel the heav'nly shine;
A beam of mercy from the skies
Fills them with light and joy divine.
His holy angels pitch their tents
Around the men that serve the Lord;
O fear and love him, all his saints,
Taste of' his grace, and trust his word.
The wild young lions, pinched with pain
And hunger, roar through all the wood;
But none shall seek the Lord in vain,
Nor want supplies of real good.
Children, in years and knowledge young,
Your parents' hope, your parents' joy,
Attend the counsels of my tongue,
Let pious thoughts your minds employ.
If you desire a length of days,
And peace to crown your mortal state,
Restrain your feet from impious ways,
Your lips from slander and deceit.
The eyes of God regard his saints,
His ears are open to their cries;
He sets his frowning face against
The sons of violence anti lies.
To humble souls and broken hearts
God with his grace is ever nigh;
Pardon and hope his love imparts,
When men in deep contrition lie.
He tells their tears, he counts their groans,
His Son redeems their souls from death;
His Spirit heals their broken bones,
They in his praise employ their breath.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 9
The promises of the covenant of grace.
Isa. 55:1,2; Zech. 13:1; Mic. 7:19; Ezek. 36:25, etc.
In vain we lavish out our lives
To gather empty wind;
The choicest blessings earth can yield
Will starve a hungry mind.
Come, and the Lord shall feed our souls
With more substantial meat,
With such as saints in glory love,
With such as angels eat.
Our God will every want supply,
And fill our hearts with peace;
He gives by cov'nant and by oath
The riches of his grace.
Come, and he'll cleanse our spotted souls,
And wash away our stains
In the dear fountain that his Son
Poured from his dying veins.
[Our guilt shall vanish all away,
Though black as hell before;
Our sins shall sink beneath the sea,
And shall be found no more.
And, lest pollution should o'erspread
Our inward powers again,
His Spirit shall bedew our souls,
Like purifying rain.]
Our heart, that flinty, stubborn thing,
That terrors cannot move,
That fears no threat'nings of his wrath,
Shall be dissolved by love.
Or he can take the flint away
That would not be refined;
And from the treasures of his grace
Bestow a softer mind.
There shall his sacred Spirit dwell,
And deep engrave his law,
And every motion of our souls
To swift obedience draw.
Thus will he pour salvation down,
And we shall render praise;
We the dear people of his love,
And he our God of grace.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Forgiveness From Calvary
When by God a soul is forgiven, the Spirit of Christ you are given,
The Holy Spirit marks a life, forgiven by God through Jesus Christ,
Friend when we come to Calvary, Christ changes both you and me,
Making a soul into a New Creation, through His Power of Salvation.
That soul with God, in one accord, as they come to Christ as Lord,
Now forgiven of their sinful past, they receive new life that will last,
A new life beginning at the cross, when cleansed of all sin's dross,
Then looking to the Resurrection, Christ gives us His new direction.
A new direction while on the earth, when we experience a new birth,
When born through The Spirit above, born of God, in Christ's love,
His love, that forgives all our sin, changing each heart deep within,
Creating forgiveness in each heart, that God, to others, can impart.
When by The Lord we are forgiven, by Christ's Spirit we are driven,
To forgive others, just like Christ, this for us, is not a big sacrifice,
Considering all that God has done, for men, through His Only Son,
His love can flow from each of us, as we forgive, like Christ Jesus.
Any forgiveness that from us is shown, is not from us, on our own,
But, through the Spirit of Christ, who, manifests for God a new life,
A new life for the Glory of God, to touch hearts on this earthly sod,
With the forgiving spirit of Calvary, that leads souls to life eternally.
(Copyright ©04/2012)
To Groves
Ye silent shades, whose each tree here
Some relique of a saint doth wear;
Who for some sweet-heart's sake, did prove
The fire and martyrdom of Love:--
Here is the legend of those saints
That died for love, and their complaints;
Their wounded hearts, and names we find
Encarved upon the leaves and rind.
Give way, give way to me, who come
Scorch'd with the self-same martyrdom!
And have deserved as much, Love knows,
As to be canonized 'mongst those
Whose deeds and deaths here written are
Within your Greeny-kalendar.
--By all those virgins' fillets hung
Upon! your boughs, and requiems sung
For saints and souls departed hence,
Here honour'd still with frankincense;
By all those tears that have been shed,
As a drink-offering to the dead;
By all those true-love knots, that be
With mottoes carved on every tree;
By sweet Saint Phillis! pity me;
By dear Saint Iphis! and the rest
Of all those other saints now blest,
Me, me forsaken,--here admit
Among your myrtles to be writ;
That my poor name may have the glory
To live remember'd in your story.
poem by Robert Herrick
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Hymn 77
The love of Christ to the church, in his language to her,
and provisions for her.
SS 7:5-13.
Now in the galleries of his grace
Appears the King, and thus he says,
"How fair my saints are in my sight!
My love how pleasant for delight!"
Kind is thy language, sovereign Lord,
There's heav'nly grace in every word;
From that dear mouth a stream divine
Flows sweeter than the choicest wine.
Such wondrous love awakes the lip
Of saints that were almost asleep,
To speak the praises of thy name,
And makes our cold affections flame.
These are the joys he lets us know
In fields and villages below;
Gives us a relish of his love,
But keeps his noblest feast above.
In Paradise, within the gates,
A higher entertainment waits
Fruits new and old laid up in store,
Where we shall feed, but thirst no more.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 54
Electing grace; or, Saints beloved in Christ.
Eph. 1:3ff.
Jesus, we bless thy Father's name;
Thy God and ours are both the same;
What heav'nly blessings from his throne
Flow down to sinners through his Son!
"Christ be my first elect," he said,
Then chose our souls in Christ our head,
Before he gave the mountains birth,
Or laid foundations for the earth.
Thus did eternal love begin
To raise us up from death and sin;
Our characters were then decreed,
"Blameless in love, a holy seed."
Predestinated to be sons,
Born by degrees, but chose at once,
A new regenerated race,
To praise the glory of his grace.
With Christ our Lord we share our part
In the affections of his heart;
Nor shall our souls be thence removed,
Till he forgets his first-beloved.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 40
The business and blessedness of glorified saints.
Rev. 7:13ff.
"What happy men, or angels, these,
That all their robes are spotless white?
Whence did this glorious troop arrive
At the pure realms of heav'nly light?"
From torturing racks, and burning fires,
And seas of their own blood, they came;
But nobler blood has washed their robes,
Flowing from Christ the dying Lamb.
Now they approach th' Almighty throne
With loud hosannahs night and day;
Sweet anthems to the great Three One
Measure their blest eternity.
No more shall hunger pain their souls;
He bids their parching thirst begone,
And spreads the shadow of his wings
To screen them from the scorching sun.
The Lamb that fills the middle throne
Shall shed around his milder beams;
There shall they feast on his rich love,
And drink full joys from living streams.
Thus shall their mighty bliss renew
Through the vast round of endless years;
And the soft hand of sovereign grace
Heals all their wounds and wipes their tears.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Psalm 11
God loves the righteous and hates the wicked.
My refuge is the God of love;
Why do my foes insult and cry,
"Fly like a tim'rous, trembling dove,
To distant woods or mountains fly?"
If government be all destroyed,
(That firm foundation of our peace,)
And violence make justice void,
Where shall the righteous seek redress?
The Lord in heav'n has fixed his throne,
His eye surveys the world below:
To him all mortal things are known,
His eyelids search our spirits through.
If he afflicts his saints so far,
To prove their love and try their grace,
What may the bold transgressors fear?
His very soul abhors their ways.
On impious wretches he shall rain
Tempests of brimstone, fire, and death;
Such as he kindled on the plain
Of Sodom, with his angry breath.
The righteous Lord loves righteous souls,
Whose thoughts and actions are sincere;
And with a gracious eye beholds
The men that his own image bear.
poem by Isaac Watts
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Hymn 111
Salvation by grace.
Titus 3:3-7.
[Lord, we confess our num'rous faults,
How great our guilt has been!
Foolish and vain were all our thoughts,
And all our lives were sin.
But, O my soul! for ever praise,
For ever love his name,
Who turns thy feet from dangerous ways
Of folly, sin, and shame.]
['Tis not by works of righteousness
Which our own hands have done;
But we are saved by sovereign grace
Abounding through his Son.]
'Tis from the mercy of our God
That all our hopes begin;
'Tis by the water and the blood
Our souls are washed from sin.
'Tis through the purchase of his death
Who hung upon the tree,
The Spirit is sent down to breathe
On such dry bones as we.
Raised from the dead we live anew;
And, justified by grace,
We shall appear in glory too,
And see our Father's face.
poem by Isaac Watts
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