Leftovers

I am purposefully going to be relatively unavailable for the next few days, so I will offer up a couple previous posts for your re-reading enjoyment! Both posts have to do with motorcycles . . . one of the few reasons I miss warmer weather. :)

Try this one: BAGGAGE

or maybe this one: SPEED AND FREEDOM

The Nativity

The kitchen counters are full of goodies: plates of cookies, sweet breads in red plastic wrap, jars of jams and soup mixes. The cookie sheets are in constant use. The living room echoes with Christmas music from everyone from Charlie Brown to Mannheim Steamroller. And the icing on the cake is that there is snow on the ground today!

Well, here is another poem and another song. I guess I've just been in that sort of in that mood lately. :)

A poem for Christmas by C.S. Lewis, accompanied by Phil Keaggy on the guitar

County Down - Phil Keaggy

THE NATIVITY

Among the oxen (like an ox I'm slow)
I see a glory in the stable grow
Which, with the ox's dullness might at length
Give me an ox's strength.

Among the asses (stubborn I as they)
I see my Saviour where I looked for hay;
So may my beastlike folly learn at least
The patience of a beast.

Among the sheep (I like a sheep have strayed)
I watch the manger where my Lord is laid;
Oh that my baa-ing nature would win thence
Some woolly innocence!

Merry Christmas from the Moore household!

Opera, Anyone?

Wow, now this is really going out on a limb, but I'm posting a short opera piece. It's called Nessun Dorma, and the version below is sung by Luciano Pavarotti. The lyric is powerful enough; the music makes it mighty. So, for all you opera fans, ENJOY! :)

Nessun Dorma - Luciano Pavarotti & Andrea Bocelli

Italian Text:
Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!
Tu pure, o, Principessa,nella tua fredda stanza,
guardi le stelleche tremano d'amoree di speranza.
Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,il nome mio nessun saprà!
No, no, sulla tua bocca lo diròquando la luce splenderà!
Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzioche ti fa mia!
(Il nome suo nessun saprà!...e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!)
Dilegua, o notte!Tramontate, stelle!Tramontate, stelle!
All'alba vincerò!vincerò, vincerò!

English Translation:
Nobody shall sleep!... Nobody shall sleep!
Even you, o Princess, in your cold room, watch the stars,
that tremble with love and with hope.
But my secret is hidden within me,my name no one shall know...
No!...No!... On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines.
And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!...
(No one will know his name and we must, alas, die.)
Vanish, o night! Set, stars! Set, stars!
At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!

Ikey, Billy and Cortlandt

When O. Henry (nee William Sydney Porter) created characters for his stories, it was as if he started with a basic human model and then painted on translucent layers of social class, station in life and intellectual ability. These layers could be plainly seen, but not without the basic humanity of each character showing through. At least that's what I think. So here I have another short story by a guy with a really short first name . . . that's a joke . . . "O." Henry . . . Anyway, the title of the story is "The Social Triangle" and it's just a perfect little tale to demonstrate the basic human instinct to be known and to be needed. Henry quickly sketches three different characters in "The Social Triangle" and at the end, you'll have attached yourself to at least one of them.

The story brings to mind a few truths the Bible states and observations the Bible makes about people and those are right here for the clicking: Proverbs 19:6, Proverbs 22:9, Luke 6:26.

Alrighty, then, click Mr. Henry and read on if you have five extra minutes . . .

Stille Nacht

The narrative below is something that I shared with the teenagers in our youth group. Music played while it was being read and it was, if not powerful, at least moving and meaningful. :)

So, if you have enough time (5 or 10 minutes) and are brave enough to tackle it, press the play button on the Imeem player below and let the music set the mood while you read.

Stille Nacht (Silent Night) - Mannheim Steamroller

I guess you could say this story has no beginning. So we’ll start before time began, in eternity, where there is no beginning or end.

Outside of the constraints of our world, in eternity, God the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit wrote a story of love that would be contained within a book called "Time".

It was there, before the creation of the world, that the plan was made and the groundwork laid that the Son of God would one day step down into time to save His most treasured possession.

With infinite wisdom and in the power of His sovereign might, God created the heavens and the earth. He started the galaxies swirling and balanced billions of stars in space. He set the solar system spinning in its precise and delicate dance, and held our planet in his hands, making it fit for life. His presence hovered over the waters as He brought forth the land and a myriad of living things. His immortal mind knew that one day He would send His Son here as a Savior.

On the sixth day of creation, he formed the first man from the earth as a potter would form clay. The very elements that comprise the crust of the earth he spun together to form flesh, bone and sinew. This process completed, the Lord of Life breathed into this newly formed body a living spirit. And mankind was born. How strange to imagine that one day in the distant future the very Son of God who helped make man, would become one Himself and in this way become uniquely and intimately connected with His own creation.

It was not long before God completed man by providing him a partner. From the same elements with which He formed the man, indeed from his very side, He drew the necessary elements to create a woman: different, yet one with the man, a perfect complement. A woman, lovingly made to bear new life, and one day it would be a woman who would carry in her womb the Son of the Most High.

In the course of time, the man and woman that God had formed turned their backs on their Creator and disobeyed, to their demise. They stepped out of safety and unleashed a curse of sin and suffering on all who would come after them.

From the time of that first failure, the Fall itself, God asserts His compassion and declares that, though mankind would suffer because of sin, one day a Son of Man would be born that would crush Satan under His feet. God’s story of love was being written and played out.

Through thorny years of turmoil and pain, men and women spread out over the earth. Civilizations grew rapidly. Although men continued to rebel against the Creator, the man Noah feared God and was preserved in the face of destruction in a vessel that foreshadowed the Savior and His redeeming grace. As darkness plagued the earth and the water poured out from above and below, Noah and his family were protected until the sun shone again and painted a promise in the sky.

The chapters of mankind’s history flowed on, and centuries passed. With every new setting and plot twist, God made it known through His prophets that one day, at just the right time in the story, a Redeemer would come.

Many men spoke of Him: Moses and Jacob and David king of Israel, himself a shadow of the coming King. Others, through the Spirit of God, foresaw His advent: Isaiah and Jeremiah, Daniel and Micah, Haggai and Zechariah and Malachi. The words of God within them were glorious and mysterious - they knew with deep excitement and anticipation that their Messiah would come, though they knew not when. Isaiah, moved by the Spirit of God, proclaimed that, "the people living in darkness [would see] a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light [would dawn.]"

At the very sunset of the Old Testament the prophet Malachi spoke. Darkness had come and would last 400 years, but he spoke of the Son, who would "rise with healing in His wings..." And then, finally, the light of the world would dawn.

Four centuries later, a servant of the Lord, a mere girl, saw the first blush of dawn on the horizon. The angel Gabriel, God’s "hero", God’s "strong man", appeared to the meek one Mary and delivered a message that would change her world. It would change the whole world.
The hope of a Savior had not been completely dormant, for there were many faithful who waited patiently for His advent. Indeed, the Spirit of God was stirring even in a child still in the safety of his mother’s womb: when Mary visited her pregnant cousin Elizabeth, no explanation was necessary, for her unborn child leaped for joy within her and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. She knew that the long night was almost over.

Three months later, the cousin of Jesus was born and his father Zechariah named him John, and, overcome as Elizabeth had been, he prophesied that "because of the tender mercy of our God...the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness."
The night was fading quickly, dissolving in the spreading light, but there was another night to come. A holy night.

Six months passed and the womb of the young girl Mary was ready to deliver. The baby within was eternal yet he was made from the same dust as the first Adam and vitally connected to his earthly mother, receiving nourishment from her body. And one day He would die because of the rebellion of that first Adam, in order to save from the curse and consequences of sin all those that followed who would believe on Him.

The night was holy, yet not silent for everyone. In Bethlehem the young Mary cried out with pain in childbirth as she delivered the One who would deliver her.

In the nearby countryside, drowsy shepherds were startled by what might have been mistaken as an early sunrise, but as their senses cleared, they discerned a light and presence not of this world. Angels announced to these humble men that the Good Shepherd had finally come. They ran to Bethlehem to see the Child the angels had spoken of.

Bethlehem, which in Hebrew means "the house of bread’, had become the birthplace of the Bread of Life, just as the prophet Micah had foretold.

When Jesus was just eight days old, Joseph and Mary brought Him to the temple in Jerusalem to have Him circumcised and to offer sacrifices for Mary to purify her from the flow of blood during childbirth. It was required by the Law, and she brought two birds because she could not afford a lamb, though in her arms she carried the Lamb of God.

A man was waiting for them there. Simeon was devout and righteous and full of God’s Spirit. And he was old. He had held onto the promise that he would not die before he had seen the Christ, the Messiah. As the young family entered the Temple, Simeon took the child and praised God with the deep and personal words, "My eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to Your people Israel."

Then his gaze turned from heaven to Mary and he spoke prophetically and powerfully: "This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul, too."

Though the Savior had come, men would still reject Him. Such is the fallen nature of mankind. But He came to give Himself for His own, and His sheep would hear His voice.

Peace would not come without struggle, cleansing from sin and eternal life would not be possible without the shedding of innocent blood. Just three decades from his birth, this Messiah would endure an excruciating, humiliating, agonizing death. Broken, bruised, contorted and bleeding He would fulfill the plan of God and provide a turning point in the timeless story of our salvation. Darkness would once again cover creation, but only until the morning of the third day . . .

Rising in power and ascending in glory among the same angels that announced His birth, the God-man Christ Jesus promised that He would return.

Even now, Today, He awaits the Father’s command to enter time once more.

The disciple John, one of Jesus’ closest friends and disciples, had of vision of his Savior towards the end of his life:
"His head and hair were like wool, as white as snow, and His eyes were like blazing fire. His feet were like bronze glowing in a furnace, and His voice was like the sound of rushing waters. In His right hand he held seven stars, and out of His mouth came a sharp double edged sword. His face was like the sun shining in all its brilliance."

And such is the brilliance all of us who believe in Him and belong to Him will one day behold - the glory of the Creator, the prophesied Messiah, the baby Jesus, the Suffering Savior, the Risen King, the Lamb of God - one day, some day soon, when God writes the final chapter of time and we begin an eternity of life with the Author of salvation.

Slides

My parents must have thousands of them: those wonderfully small, cardboard-framed cells of vivid color known as "slides". If you're young enough, the only slide you know of that has to do with pictures belongs in PowerPoint. But the slides I'm referring to are something far more amazing. Maybe I'm a little odd, but there's something almost magical about holding one of these little beauties in your fingers and lifting it to the light to behold the brilliant images captured on film long ago. I absolutely love my digital cameras, but there is definitely a uniquely rich quality to good film photography that digital technology hasn't quite captured yet.

I couldn't begin to count how many evenings I spent as a child laying on the floor of our darkened living room looking at family pictures projected onto a glittering fabric screen. I can still hear the whirr of the projector fan as it cooled the bulb that was providing the needed pathway to fling our memories through the air onto the screen. And then there was the satisfying mechanical "cha-chunk" as the carousel of slides rotated and the metal sliding armature would remove one picture and insert another. (Of course, I wasn't thinking such fanciful thoughts at the time, but nostalgia has a way of making the mundane poetic.)

For me, slides are like little treasures and they fascinate me as an adult the way my View Master did as a kid.

I think I'm going to stop by my parents' house and raid that old closet downstairs and see what kind of celluloid gems I can find.

Russian Wisdom

Everybody has something to learn. The book of Proverbs starts off by stating that its mission is to give "prudence to the simple" and that the wise should "listen and add to their learning."

One of my favorite authors is a fine Russian gentleman by the name of Leo Tolstoy. No, I have not read War and Peace. I have five children, and tend to gravitate towards novels of a somewhat smaller nature. In Tolstoy's case, I have read most of his short stories. I think a lot of folks don't even know that Tolstoy wrote a whole stack of wonderfully rich short stories.

In "Three Questions", he tells the tale of a king on a quest for wisdom and I think it illustrates pretty well the words of Proverbs written above. This story is so short it's almost a fable, really. Just click on Leo's portrait and take five minutes to read it. You'll find out the right time to begin everything, the right people to listen to, and the most important thing to do! So go ahead and click, he's friendlier than he looks!

Wheeeee!

It's good to be a kid. The world is new, adventure waits around every bend, you just know you can run fast enough to fly, and "carefree" is your middle name.

I just know Jesus loves children because of this and it's why He told us to have faith like kids do. I think we really oughta wake up each day with adventure in our hearts spurred on by the confidence we have in our Heavenly Father - carefree.

The one thing my kids want to see before they go to sleep at night is my face. I can't explain that, really. Maybe they just wanna know Dad is home, that Dad has got things under control, that Dad will be awake and watching over things while they sleep. I'm not sure, but I do know that I am an unworthy recipient of such affection.

I think a secure child is an obedient child. No, not a PERFECT child, but one that wants to be obedient, one that considers doing what dad asks or expects to be quite normal behavior. Orneriness is to be expected, but it seems to me that somehow being in a secure relationship makes it easier to do what's right.

Someone once said, "a child only wants to see his father smile." My kids know they have my undying affection. They also know my firm hand. And because of this, they are secure and happy. I literally weep when I think that there are millions of little ones on this planet experiencing nothing like that.

Walk On

Just a simple thought today: we all must pass through pain so that we may be filled up with God's comfort and then pour it into someone else's life.

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4

And as a nice side dish to this thought and Scripture, I give you a song from one of my favorite Irish poets ;) . . .

Walk On . . .

Abundant Truth

Leading an assembled group of believers in worship on Sunday morning is something akin to choosing a paint color that everyone likes, or carpet that everybody can agree on.

There will always be critics, because musical taste is so subjective, and these criticisms can sometimes be a little tiring (and I've certainly been on that side of the mic before). However, the criticisms don't bother me when I know that I have been careful to choose songs full of abundant truth. The best songs for corporate worship declare the Truth about who God is, the Truth about the Redeeming Christ, and the faithful work of the Holy Spirit in the life of the believer. Corporate worship should set forth doctrine and magnify the character of Almighty God. It is not a time for sappy love songs. It is not a time for whipping yourself into an emotional frenzy. Did I say that? I did.

I have nothing against emotions in worship. Just this morning I was in tears driving to work while listening to a favorite song that came on the radio (I had to actually drive PAST the office while the song played out...). But what I shun in corporate worship is a forced emotional state that substitutes for a true experience of praise. It is truly moving indeed when my emotions are brought to the surface by solid Biblical Truth in the words of a song.

One contemporary songwriter who is creating this kind of music is Stuart Townend. The simple, hymnlike melodies of "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" and "In Christ Alone" are matched with lyrics that are like steps carved in the side of a mountain, leading one higher and higher. The sound doctrine contained in these songs is refreshing and irrefutable. It exalts Christ and proclaims the work of God. It encourages and assures the true believer.

Here is "How Deep the Father's Love For Us", performed by someone other than Stuart Townend, but this guy sings skillfully and plays a Taylor...

For the Birds

I'm almost finished reading Reclaiming Science From Darwinism by Kenneth Poppe.

Below is a paragraph with which he finishes off a chapter that discusses how Darwinian evolution is supposed to produce only beneficial traits:

"Watch one singing bird for a few minutes with solitary attention, and then try again to explain how such a 'ridiculous' activity became highlighted in the gene pool instead of leading to the extinction of that songbird's species. Since there is no scientific reason for birds to randomly sing, and every reason for them not to, I will give credit for beautiful birdsongs, as well as my capacity to enjoy them, to their Designer."

Of course, this isn't the strongest argument against evolutionary theory, but it's a pretty simple and elegant one. I think beauty itself (its existence and appreciation) is huge evidence that nothing about this universe is a product of random processes and chance.

The amount of scientific evidence that causes evolutionary theory to crumble is actually quite large. Unfortunately, it's just not cool (politically proper) to let that (cleverly designed and created) cat out of the bag. Evolution doesn't make sense and men and women from every scientific discipline agree on that fact.

Are there changes within species? You betcha. There are plenty of small changes and adaptations going on all the time. Natural selection is at work. But natural selection only favors traits that already exist and natural selection has never made a man from an amoeba, a bird from a dinosaur or a whale from a cow. It's not just improbable, it's impossible. How do I know this? A little bird told me.

The Five

To begin with, I freely confess that I stole the photo ideas in this post from my friend Al.

I don't know what I'd do without my five sons (besides a whole lot less laundry!). They frustrate and delight me, challenge me and concern me, inspire me and make me proud. Whenever I hear of a family that has more than five kids, I secretly think, "lucky!", and become slightly envious.

For every time I've been angry with one of these guys, I've laughed a dozen. I've spent time crying over them and time just thinking hard trying to figure each one out. They are superbly fascinating.

I look forward to coming home at the end of each day and being among these boys I love so much. Our home is really my refuge. I hope it is for the boys as well.

BTW, the firstborn is here. :)