A Brand Plucked Out Of The Fire
With Satan, my accuser, near
My spirit trembled when I saw
The Lord in majesty appear,
And heart the language of the law.
In vain I wish'd and strove to hide
The tatter'd, filthy rags I wore;
While my fierce foe insulting cry'd
See what you trusted in before!
Struck dumb, and left without a plea,
I heard my gracious Saviour say,
Know Satan, I this sinner free,
I died to take his sin away.
This is a brand which I, in love,
To save from wrath and sin design!
In vain thy accusations prove;
I answer all, and call him mine.
At his rebuke the tempter fled;
Then he remov'd my filthy dress;
Poor sinner, take this robe, he said,
It is thy Saviour's rightousness.
And see, a crown of life prepar'd!
That I might thus my head adorn;
I thought no shame or suff'ring hard,
But wore for thee a crown of thorn.
O how I heard these gracious words!
They broke and heal'd my heart at once;
Constrained me to become the Lord's,
And all my idol-gods renounce.
Now, Satan, thou hast lost thy aim,
Against this brand thy threats are vain;
JESUS has pluck'd it from the flame,
And who shall put it in again?
poem by John Newton
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Satan Returning
When Jesus claims the sinner's heart,
Where Satan ruled before;
The evil spirit must depart,
And dares return no more.
But when he goes without constraint,
And wanders from his home;
Although withdrawn, 'tis but a feint,
He means again to come.
Some outward change perhaps is seen
If Satan quit the place;
But though the house seem swept and clean,
'Tis destitute of grace.
Except the Saviour dwell and reign
Within the sinner's mind;
Satan, when he returns again,
Will easy entrance find.
With rage and malice sevenfold,
He then resumes his sway;
No more by checks to be controlled,
No more to go away.
The sinner's former state was bad,
But worse the latter far;
He lives possessed, and blind, and mad,
And dies in dark despair.
Lord save me from this dreadful end!
And from this heart of mine,
O drive and keep away the fiend
Who fears no voice but thine.
poem by John Newton
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Peter Sinning And Repenting
When Peter boasted, soon he fell,
Yet was by grace restored;
His case should be regarded well
By all who fear the Lord.
A voice it has, and helping hand,
Backsliders to recall;
And cautions those who think they stand,
Lest suddenly they fall.
He said, Whatever others do,
With Jesus I'll abide;
Yet soon amidst a murd'rous crew
His suff'ring Lord denied.
He who had been so bold before,
Now trembled like a leaf;
Not only lied, but cursed and swore,
To gain the more belief.
While he blasphemed he heard the cock,
And Jesus looked in love;
At once, as if by lightning struck,
His tongue forbore to move.
Delivered thus from Satan's snare
He starts, as from a sleep;
His Saviour's look he could not bear,
But hasted forth to weep.
But sure the faithful cock had crowed
A hundred times in vain;
Had not the Lord that look bestowed,
The meaning to explain.
As I, like Peter, vows have made,
Yet acted Peter's part;
So conscience, like the cock, upbraids
My base, ungrateful heart.
Lord Jesus, hear a sinner's cry,
My broken peace renew;
And grant one pitying look, that I
May weep with Peter too.
poem by John Newton
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The Day of Judgement
Day of judgement, day of wonders!
Hark! the trumpet's awful sound,
Louder than a thousand thunders,
Shakes the vast creation round!
How the summons will the sinner's heart confound.
See the Judge, our nature wearing,
Cloth'd in majesty divine!
You who long for his appearing
Then shall say, "This God is mine!"
Gracious Saviour, own me in that day for thine!
At his call, the dead awaken,
Rise to life from earth and sea:
All the pow'rs of nature shaken
By his looks prepare to flee:
Careless sinner, what will then become of thee?
Horrors past imagination
Will surprise your trembling heart,
When you hear your condemnation,
"Hence, accursed wretch, depart!
"Thou with Satan and his angels have thy part!"
Satan, who now tries to please you,
Lest you timely warning take,
When that word is past, will seize you,
Plunge you in the burning lake:
Think, poor sinner, thy eternal all's at stake.
But to those who have confessed,
Lov'd and serv'd the Lord below,
He will say, "Come near, ye blessed,
"See the kingdom I bestow;
You for ever shall my love and glory know."
Under sorrows and reproaches,
May this thought your courage raise
Swiftly God's great day approaches,
Sighs shall then be chang'd to praise:
We shall triumph when the world is in a blaze.
poem by John Newton
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Pleading For Mercy
In mercy, not in wrath, rebuke
Thy feeble worm, my God!
My spirit dreads thine angry look,
And trembles at thy rod.
Have mercy, Lord, for I am weak,
Regard my heavy groans;
O let thy voice of comfort speak,
And heal my broken bones!
By day my busy beating head
Is filled with anxious fears;
By night, upon my restless bed,
I weep a flood of tears.
Thus I sit desolate and mourn,
Mine eyes grow dull with grief;
How long, my Lord, ere thou return,
And bring my soul relief?
O come and show thy pow'r to save,
And spare my fainting breath;
For who can praise thee in the grave,
Or sing thy name in death?
Satan, my cruel envious foe,
Insults me in my pain;
He smiles to see me brought so low,
And tells me hope is vain,
But hence, thou enemy, depart!
Nor tempt me to despair;
My Saviour comes to cheer my heart,
The Lord has heard my prayer.
poem by John Newton
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The Effort
Approach, my soul, the mercy-seat
Where Jesus answers prayer;
There humbly fall before His feet,
For none can perish there.
Thy promise is my only plea,
With this I venture nigh;
Thou callest burdened souls to Thee,
And such, O Lord, am I.
Bowed down beneath a load of sin,
By Satan sorely pressed,
By wars without, and fears within,
I come to Thee for rest.
Be Thou my shield and hiding-place,
That, sheltered near Thy side,
I may my fierce Accuser face
And tell him Thou hast died.
O wondrous Love! to bleed and die,
To bear the cross and shame,
That guilty sinners such as I
Might plead Thy gracious name!
Poor tempest-tossed soul, be still,
My promised grace receive;
'Tis Jesus speaks--I must, I will,
I can, I do, believe.
poem by John Newton
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The Rebel's Surrender To Grace (Lord, What Wilt Thou Have Me to Do?)
Lord, thou hast won, at length I yield,
My heart, by mighty grace compelled,
Surrenders all to thee;
Against thy terrors long I strove,
But who can stand against thy love?
Love conquers even me.
All that a wretch could do, I tried,
Thy patience scorned, thy pow'r defied,
And trampled on thy laws;
Scarcely thy martyrs at the stake,
Could stand more steadfast for thy sake,
Than I in Satan's cause.
But since thou hast thy love revealed,
And shown my soul a pardon sealed,
I can resist no more:
Couldst thou for such a sinner bleed?
Canst thou for such a rebel plead?
I wonder and adore!
If thou hadst bid thy thunders roll,
And lightnings flash to blast my soul,
I still had stubborn been:
But mercy has my heart subdued,
A bleeding Saviour I have viewed,
And now, I hate my sin.
Now, Lord, I would be thine alone,
Come take possession of thine own,
For thou hast set me free
Released from Satan's hard commands
See all my powers waiting stand,
To be employed by thee.
My will conformed to thine would move,
On thee my hope, desire, and love,
In fixed attention join;
My hands, my eyes, my ears, my tongue,
Have Satan's servants been too long,
But now they shall be thine.
And can I be the very same,
Who lately durst blaspheme thy name;
And on thy gospel tread?
Surely each one, who hears my case,
Will praise thee, and confess thy grace
Invincible indeed!
poem by John Newton
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The Change
Saviour shine and cheer my soul,
Bid my dying hopes revive;
Make my wounded spirit whole,
Far away the tempter drive:
Speak the word and set me free,
Let me live alone to thee.
Shall I sigh and pray in vain,
Wilt thou still refuse to hear;
Wilt thou not return again,
Must I yield to black despair?
Thou hast taught my heart to pray,
Canst thou turn thy face away?
Once I thought my mountain strong,
Firmly fixed no more to move;
Then thy grace was all my song,
Then my soul was filled with love:
Those were happy golden days,
Sweetly spent in prayer and praise.
When my friends have said, Beware,
Soon or late you'll find a change;
I could see no cause for fear,
Vain their caution seemed and strange:
Not a cloud obscured my sky,
Could I think a tempest nigh?
Little, then, myself I knew,
Little thought of Satan's pow'r;
Now I find their words were true,
Now I feel the stormy hour!
Sin has put my joys to flight,
Sin has changed my day to night.
Satan asks, and mocks my woe,
Boaster, where is now your God?
Silence, Lord, this cruel foe,
Let him know I'm bought with blood:
Tell him, since I know thy name,
Though I change thou art the same.
poem by John Newton
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The Leper
Oft as the leper's case I read,
My own described I feel;
Sin is a leprosy indeed,
Which none but Christ can heal.
Awhile I would have passed for well,
And strove my spots to hide;
Till it broke out incurable,
Too plain to be denied.
Then from the saints I sought to flee,
And dreaded to be seen;
I thought they all would point at me,
And cry, Unclean, unclean!
What anguish did my soul endure,
Till hope and patience ceased?
The more I strove myself to cure,
The more the plague increased.
While thus I lay distressed, I saw
The Savior passing by;
To him, though filled with shame and awe,
I raised my mournful cry.
Lord, thou canst heal me if thou wilt,
For thou canst all things do;
O cleanse my leprous soul from guilt,
My filthy heart renew!
He heard, and with a gracious look,
Pronounced the healing word;
I will, be clean - and while he spoke
I felt my health restored.
Come lepers, seize the present hour,
The Saviour's grace to prove;
He can relieve, for he is pow'r,
He will, for he is love.
poem by John Newton
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The Legion Dispossessed
Legion was my name by nature,
Satan raged within my breast;
Never misery was greater,
Never sinner more possessed:
Mischievous to all around me,
To myself the greatest foe;
Thus I was, when Jesus found me,
Filled with madness, sin and woe.
Yet in this forlorn condition,
When he came to see me free;
I replied, to my Physician,
What have I to do with thee?
But he would not be prevented,
Rescued me against my will;
Had he stayed till I consented,
I had been a captive still.
Satan, though thou fain wouldst have it,
Know this soul is none of thine;
I have shed my blood to save it,
Now I challenge it for mine,
Though it long has thee resembled,
Henceforth it shall me obey;
Thus he spoke while Satan trembled,
Gnashed his teeth and fled away.
Thus my frantic soul he healed,
Bid my sins and sorrows cease;
Take, said he, my pardon sealed,
I have saved thee, go in peace:
Rather take me, Lord, to heaven,
Now thy love and grace I know;
Since thou hast my sins forgiven,
Why should I remain below?
Love, he said, will sweeten labors,
Thou hast something yet to do;
Go and tell your friends and neighbors,
What my love has done for you:
Live to manifest my glory,
Wait for heav'n a little space;
Sinners, when they hear thy story,
Will repent and seek my face.
poem by John Newton
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The Exorcists
Then the apostle wonders wrought,
And healed the sick, in Jesus' name;
The sons of Sceva vainly thought
That they had pow'r to do the fame.
On one possessed they tried their art,
And naming Jesus preached by Paul,
They charged the spirit to depart
Expecting he'd obey their call.
The spirit answered, with a mock,
Jesus I know; and Paul I know;
I must have gone if Paul had spoke;
But who are ye that bid me go?
With fury then the man he filled,
Who on the poor pretenders flew;
Naked and wounded, almost killed,
They fled in all the peoples' view.
Jesus! that name, pronounced by faith,
Is full of wonder-working pow'r;
It conquers Satan, sin and death,
And cheers in trouble's darkest hour.
But they, who are not born again,
Know nothing of it but the sound;
They do but take his name in vain
When most their zeal and pains abound.
Satan their vain attempts derides,
Whether they talk, or pray, or preach;
Long as the love of sin abides,
His pow'r is safe beyond their reach.
But you, believers, may rejoice,
Satan well knows your mighty Friend;
He trembles at your Saviour's voice,
And owns he cannot gain his end.
poem by John Newton
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Olney Hymn 19: Contentment
Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea,
But calm, content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to Thee.
In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;
For none but in the Saviour's school
Can learn the heavenly skill.
Since at His feet my soul has sate,
His gracious words to hear,
Contented with my present state,
I cast on Him my care.
'Art thou a sinner, soul?' He said,
'Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd
With everlasting pain!
'If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine!
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.
''Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,
And rise with me to dwell.
'In life my grace shall strength supply,
Proportion'd to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away.'
Thus I, who once my wretched days
In vain repinings spent,
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace,
Have learnt to be content.
poem by William Cowper
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Have You Heard?
My dear friend, have you heard, the Eternal Truths in God’s Word?
The Eternal Truths about you and me, all about our eternal destiny.
That you’re a sinner, just like me, and also bound for Hell eternally,
And there’s nothing man can do, to change this fact for me or you.
A Truth, because of just one lie, accepted on behalf, of you and I,
The one lie by Satan to deceive, accepted by both Adam and Eve.
A lie while on that Garden sod, to distort the Eternal Word of God,
Would render all offspring deceived, by the plan Satan conceived.
But, God had decreed a solution, to Satan’s very wicked intrusion,
Although the earth, God did curse, Satan’s future was even worse,
By the solution that God decreed, from sin’s curse, we’d be freed,
Although His decree wasn’t rushed, Satan soon would be crushed.
As it stands, we are born in sin, with all sin’s darkness deep within,
Separated from God, at the start, because of dark sin in our heart.
But this, God Himself resolved, as in Christ our sins are absolved,
Being a sacrifice for our sin, God’s presence, we can now enter in.
Now our Savior and our Lord, through Christ, we’ve been restored.
Satan now is a defeated foe, this, The Lord would have you know,
Now you can go from sinner lost, to victory by our Savior’s Cross,
And have Eternal Life assured, in Jesus Christ the Sovereign Lord.
(Copyright ©01/2008)
Jesus Tempted
“The Tempter tempts the Creator –
Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God.
The Lord was just a man like us
But lived a sin-free life on earth.”
The Spirit then took Jesus Christ
Into the desert for some days;
For forty days and forty nights,
He fasted and fervently prayed.
And in that weary state of mind
And body when Christ Jesus lay,
The Tempter Satan came beside
To test the Lord and make Him prey!
Oh, what a time, the Tempter chose
To try to bait the Lord Jesus!
He didn’t spare ev’n the Son of God,
And chose His weakest moment too.
‘Oh, you must be so hungry now!
Why don’t you turn these stones to bread?
Oh, what a suggestion to make
Reminding Christ, His powers divine! ’
The wily Satan thought Jesus
Would succumb to his proposal;
But Jesus knew why Father sent
Him to be born as man on earth.
‘Man does not live by bread alone,
But by each word that God utters, ’
said Jesus to the Tempter and
Got over His first temptation.
Then Satan took Christ up the roof
Of Jerusalem temple high,
And urged Him to jump down at once,
For angels would prevent His hurt!
‘Don’t test thy Lord, ’ the Scripture says,
said Jesus Christ to Satan then.
Satan showed Him the wealth on earth,
Promised Him if He worshipped him.
But Jesus spoke sternly to Him –
‘Thou shalt worship thy Lord alone! ’ –
the scripture says, ‘Oh, don’t you know;
Begone then Satan, ’ and he left.
Then Jesus felt truly hungry;
Angels ministered unto Him.
The Tempter failed deceiving Christ,
And Jesus won full victory.
When Satan can tempt Christ Himself,
All mankind is his soft target;
Temptations come to every man;
Yet, we mustn’t fall a prey to them!
Our faith in God must remain strong;
We ought to stay alert all life;
The Holy Spirit within us
Will help to ward off every strife.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 3-1-2009
poem by John Celes
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Looking Unto Jesus
By various maxims, forms and rules,
That pass for wisdom in the schools,
I strove my passion to restrain;
But all my efforts proved in vain.
But since the Saviour I have known
My rules are all reduced to one;
To keep my Lord, by faith, in view,
This strength supplies and motives too.
I see him lead a suff'ring life,
Patient, amidst reproach and strife;
And from his pattern courage take
To bear, and suffer, for his sake.
Upon the cross I see him bleed,
And by the sight from guilt am freed;
This sight destroys the life of sin,
And quickens heav'nly life within.
To look to Jesus as he rose
Confirms my faith, disarms my foes;
Satan I shame and overcome,
By pointing to my Saviour's tomb.
Exalted on his glorious throne,
I see him make my cause his own;
Then all my anxious cares subside,
For Jesus lives, and will provide.
I see him look with pity down,
And hold in view the conqu'ror's crown;
If pressed with griefs and cares before,
My soul revives, nor asks for more.
By faith I see the hour at hand
When in his presence I shall stand;
Then it will be my endless bliss,
To see him where, and as he is.
poem by John Newton
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The Resurrection And The Life
I Am, saith Christ our glorious head,
(May we attention give)
The resurrection of the dead,
The life of all that live.
By faith in me, the soul receives
New life, though dead before;
And he that in my name believes,
Shall live, to die no more.
The sinner, sleeping in his grave,
Shall at my voice awake;
And when I once begin to save,
My work I ne'er forsake.
Fulfill thy promise, gracious Lord,
On us assembled here,
Put forth thy Spirit with the word,
And cause the dead to hear.
Preserve the pow'r of faith alive,
In those who love thy name;
For sin and Satan daily strive
To quench the sacred flame.
Thy pow'r and mercy first prevailed
From death to set us free;
And often since our life had failed,
If not renewed by thee.
To thee we look, to thee we bow;
To thee, for help, we call;
Our life and resurrection thou,
Our hope, our joy, our all.
poem by John Newton
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Contentment
(Phillipians, iv.11)
Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea,
But calm, content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to Thee.
In vain by reason and by rule
We try to bend the will;
For none but in the Saviour's school
Can learn the heavenly skill.
Since at His feet my soul has sate,
His gracious words to hear,
Contented with my present state,
I cast on Him my care.
"Art thou a sinner, soul?" He said,
"Then how canst thou complain?
How light thy troubles here, if weigh'd
With everlasting pain!
"If thou of murmuring wouldst be cured,
Compare thy griefs with mine!
Think what my love for thee endured,
And thou wilt not repine.
"'Tis I appoint thy daily lot,
And I do all things well;
Thou soon shalt leave this wretched spot,
And rise with me to dwell.
"In life my grace shall strength supply,
Proportion'd to thy day;
At death thou still shalt find me nigh,
To wipe thy tears away."
Thus I, who once my wretched days
In vain repinings spent,
Taught in my Saviour's school of grace,
Have learnt to be content.
poem by William Cowper
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Olney Hymn 18: Lovest Thou Me?
Hark my soul! it is the Lord;
'Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word;
Jesus speaks and speaks to thee,
'Say poor sinner, lovst thou me?
'I deliver'd thee when bound,
And when bleeding, heal'd thy wound;
Sought thee wandering, set thee right,
Turn'd thy darkness into light.
'Can a woman's tender care
Cease towards the child she bare?
Yes, she may forgetful be,
Yet will I remember thee.
'Mine is an unchanging love,
Higher than the heights above,
Deeper than the depths beneath,
Free and faithful, strong as death.
'Thou shalt see my glory soon,
When the work of grace is done;
Partner of my throne shalt be;
Say, poor sinner, lovst thou me?'
Lord it is my chief complaint,
That my love is weak and faint;
Yet I love Thee and adore, -
Oh! for grace to love Thee more!
poem by William Cowper
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Smyrna
The message first to Smyrna sent,
A message full of grace;
To all the Saviour's flock is meant,
In every age and place.
Thus to his church, his chosen bride,
Saith the great First and Last;
Who ever lives, though once he died,
Hold thy profession fast.
Thy works and sorrows well I know,
Performed and borne for me;
Poor though thou art, despised and low,
Yet who is rich like thee?
I know thy foes, and what they say,
How long they have blasphemed;
The synagogue of Satan, they,
Though they would Jews be deemed.
Though Satan for a season rage,
And prisons be your lot;
I am your friend, and I engage
You shall not be forgot.
Be faithful unto death, nor fear
A few short days of strife;
Behold! the prize you soon shall wear,
A crown of endless life!
Hear what the holy Spirit saith
Of all who overcome;
They shall escape the second death,
The sinner's aweful doom!
poem by John Newton
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In Sickness
Jesus, since I with thee am one,
Confirm my soul in thee,
And still continue to tread down
The man of sin in me.
Let not the subtle foe prevail
In this my feeble hour,
Frustrate all the hopes of hell
Redeem from Satan's pow'r.
Arm me, O Lord, from head to foot,
With righteousness divine;
My soul in Jesus firmly root,
And seal the Saviour mine.
Proportion'd to my pains below,
O let my joys increase,
And mercy to my spirit flow
In healing streams of peace.
In life and death be thou my God,
And I am more than safe:
Chastis'd by thy paternal rod,
Support me with thy staff.
Lay on me, Saviour, what thou wilt,
But give me strength to bear:
Thy gracious hand this cross hath dealt,
Which cannot be severe.
As gold refin'd may I come out,
In sorrow's furnace try'd;
Preserved from faithfulness and doubt,
And fully putify'd.
When, overwhelm'd with sore distress,
Out of the pit I cry,
On Jesus suffering in my place
Help me to fix mine eye.
When marr'd with tears, and blood, and sweat,
The glorious sufferer lay,
And in my stead sustain'd the heat
And burden of the day.
The pangs which my weak nature knows
Are swallow'd up in thine:
How numberless thy pondrous woes!
How few, how light are mine!
O might I learn of thee to bear
Temptation, pain and loss!
Give me a heart inur'd to prayer,
And fitted to the cross.
Make me, O Lord, thy patient son;
Thy language mine shall be:
"Father, thy gracious will be done,
I take the cup from thee."
While thus my soul is fixt on him
Once fasten'd to the wood,
Safe shall I pass through Jordan's stream,
And reach the realms of God.
And when my soul mounts up to keep
With thee the marriage feast,
I shall not die, but fall asleep
On my Redeemer's breast.
poem by Augustus Montague Toplady
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The Disciples At Sea
Constrained by their Lord to embark,
And venture, without him, to sea;
The season tempestuous and dark,
How grieved the disciples must be!
But though he remained on the shore,
He spent the night for them in prayer;
They still were as safe as before,
And equally under his care.
They strove, though in vain, for a while,
The force of the waves to withstand;
But when they were wearied with toil,
They saw their dear Saviour at hand:
They gladly received him on board,
His presence their spirits revived;
The sea became calm at his word,
And soon at their port they arrived.
We, like the disciples, are tossed
By storms, on a perilous deep;
But cannot be possibly lost,
For Jesus has charge of the ship:
Though billows and winds are enraged,
And threaten to make us their sport;
This pilot his word has engaged
To bring us, in safety, to port.
If sometimes we struggle alone,
And he is withdrawn from our view;
It makes us more willing to own,
We nothing, without him, can do:
Then Satan our hopes would assail,
But Jesus is still within call;
And when our poor efforts quite fail,
He comes in good time and does all.
Yet, Lord, we are ready to shrink.
Unless we thy presence perceive;
O save us (we cry) or we sink,
We would, but we cannot believe
The night has been long and severe,
The winds and the seas are still high;
Dear Saviour, this moment appear,
And say to our souls, It is I!
poem by John Newton
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