Audio Sermon Prescription Warning
Sermons by Gospel Centered Churches is one way of hearing the word.   But do not think that listening to sermons is a way to make yourself justified with God. You are only forgiven through the work of the Godhead (Father. Son. Holy Spirit.)  Your own efforts outside the Godhead (God, Christ, Holy Spirit) will end in disorder, despair  and feelings of being cheated.  Your feelings of being unfairly treated by God, are out of focus and  a readjustment from a Pastor, or Elder,  at your Local Church would be recommended.  These sermons, no matter how tremendous,  do not replace the need to go fellowship with other believers. Fellowship is one of the four means of Grace: The Preached Word, Prayer, Sacraments  and Fellowship.  I find that fellowship keeps me from tainting the news with my own biases.  These biases taint the message being delivered.

Apologetic

I can see the argument of those that attack the Gospel use one weapon that only goes one way.... they stick to this idol with a cathexis, a focus so strong as to be unhealthy, they become obsessed with defacing the Gospel. But what will make them rethink may be the Centipede dilemma, where if you ask them why they will get to a point where they can no longer answer it... and in their frustration they will loose their ability to reason accurately. We have a truth that is the truth... and guided by the holy spirit we can stand to reason.

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It’s All Meshugas to Me

(B. Joel, C. Srulowitz, G. Veroba)

What’s the matter with the Kiddush I’m giving
Can’t you tell that your cake’s too dry,
Maybe I should just eliminate the kugel,
Well, in our shul, you’d better not try!
 
Where have you been hiding out lately, sonny,
You can’t give a Kiddush til’ you spend a lot of money,
Everybody’s talkin’ ‘bout the right foods, funny,
But it’s all Mishegas to me…
 
What’s the matter with the chulent I’m serving,
Can’t you tell that its got no meat,
Maybe I should serve some cole slaw and salad,
That would look like you were trying to cheat,
Borrow money from your family pushka,

And serve four kugels with a healthy slice of kishka,
Potato, rice, lukshin twice, one sweet, one spice,
All a Mishegas to me!

Oh, it doesn’t matter what they serve at a Kiddush
It’ll always be the same old thing,
Your wife is gonna deal an entire Shabbos meal
And you’d better savor everything,
I’m sure you know what I mean…
Have some wine, or some Shnapps for Kiddush,
Don’t you know that I only use scotch,
Forget Red Label, just go with the green one,
Or the Blue, if it’s not too much
Plain gefilte fish is not very daring,
Your best bet would be twelve types of herring,
Cream cakes, potato knishes, table cloths, hot dishes
All a Mishegas to me
What’s the matter with the Kiddush I’m giving,
Can’t you see that the place is too tight,
Don’t you know you need at least 10 tables
If you have 80  men to invite
Nowadays, you gotta be very cautious,
Pick the wrong food and your guests will be nauseous,
Right food, right place, scotch and bourbon by the case
It’s all a Mishegas to me
Everybody’s talkin’ bout the food at the Kiddush,
But it’s all Mishegas to me! 

Review of Timothy Keller's The Freedom of Self Forgetfullness

The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness by Timothy Keller

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


This book is short and profoundly challenging. The simplicity of the message will rattle around in the tombs of our soiled memories.
Tim Keller looks at our condition in this inflated/deflated world. The world is flat and black and white; while we perform in our shadowed reality. There is only one way to the truth and the light. We find ourselves off the beaten track and lost. Until, we are picked up for vagrancy.
We are then brought to a trial room with only the smiling mob and the Court Jester. Every day we wake to a trial, much like the trial of the main character in Franz Kafka's The Trial.
We find that all the jurors are pointing at us and laughing at our hopeless condition, because we still think we can save ourselves. We think that there is a away for us to justify our actions. We cower at our reflected image and our ballooned ego lets out a gasp and we find ourselves thinner than Jack Sprat.
Where is your heart (insert your name here)? is the first question the Supreme Court Jester asks.
We say in response, "I played the game! I played by the rules! How can you accuse me of being a loser on my own?"
The Jester replies, "Who do you want to be son, than be that person."
We wake up and the trial resumes.
Keller shows us how to break out of this fun house mirror and self delusion through the reliance of Christ. This book must be read by anyone who struggles with depression or anxiety in the modern world.



View all my reviews

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Men Beating Drums: Stewardship

Stewardship From the Eyes of a Dog?

Good stewardship begins at home with a smile and a willing ear, maybe a waggle of a tail.   I am called to take joy in God and love my neighbors, through an endowed abundance of joy. Also if my master throws a ball I am to go after it and bring it back to him, for it makes him  so happy. I am not to spend all my hours in private daydreams.    Rather, I am called to be an encourager and a bearer of the gospel, in this darkened world.  For a later promise, could it be a bone?

Men Beating Drums: Slumps

Hard to believe that Mr. Tim Hardaway of the Golden State Warriors, went 0-15 for field-goals, in one game.

Heck, I probably would have said to myself, "I am no longer any good, time to retire."

 But even the All Stars deal with slumps sometimes.

We, men, tighten up when we fear that our performance is not adding up.  We are most likely to terminate our position for fear that we are not adding to a well run machine.  However, during slumps we must trust our abilities and the ability of the team, and go forward, not dwelling on could have beens, or on the problem that happened earlier.   One must first relax, laugh, and allow the flow to happen; forcing the flow only makes things a lot worse.


Enjoy the video clip:

We salt our lives with other people's sins.  Our flesh to us tastes sweet... That's the fuel, the vapor that spins that carousel, the raw stuff of terror, the excruciating agony of guilt, the scream from real or imagined wounds.  The carnival sucks that gas, ignites it, and chugs along its way. -Ray Bradburry Something Wicked this Way Comes

Chapters 39 and 40 of this book are some of the greatest metaphors, and explanations of Genesis 3 I have ever read.   

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The journey up and down the road will warry us if we think it is all dependent upon our efforts. Our truck will run out of gas. We will be surely crawling towards our goal. So keep Trucking and move forward, but Christ Goes First.

Book Excerpt from Kahil Gibran the Madman

The Scarecrow

Once I said to a scarecrow, “You must be tired of standing in this lonely field.”

And he said, “The joy of scaring is a deep and lasting one, and I never tire of it.”

Said I, after a minute of thought, “It is true; for I too have known that joy.”

Said he, “Only those who are stuffed with straw can know it.”

 Then I left him, not knowing whether he had complimented or belittled me. A year passed, during which the scarecrow turned philosopher. And when I passed by him again I saw

Khalil Gibran. The Madman (Kindle Locations 41-45).

I like the simplicity of this thought and how deep it is.
 I also was watching  Everything Must Go a good portrayal of our lives in this place between sorrows and joy.   Where God smashes the boxes those whose lust are not in him.   He loves us enough to shape us into his likeness.   We grow from our pain.  Pain is part of the process.   We are shaped. God stand stills.  

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What little box holds all of your idols? What happens when this box is threatened? What threatens the box?

Sermon Response Hebrews 12:28 - 13:17

Witnesses stood outside.  They stood on a hill overlooking the town in the valley.   They were awed by the sight of a  fiddler perched on a roof,  like a rooster on a hen house, or a weather vane.   He stroke one chord.   The chord strongly vibrated across the valley into the private solitude of the slumbering residents.   The chord awoke the slumbering children.  Steel clung into the midnight light.  The lights of the city click on, the houses become alighted, one by one.   A pure note lit the valley homes in the mid of night.   

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There was a fiddler, who played a tune.  The tune woke up Boulder Colorado, and then the world. The person playing the fiddle was my brothers best friend when growing up, Jeb Bows. 

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The Pet Shop Boys till us its a sin.  "Father, I tried not to do it..." But as we try we are more bound to the social cages that they have put us into.  The only escape is Jesus Christ our savior and redeemer.  

Meditation Response: Hebrews 11

Prayer: My Meditation Response
Faith Sounds like__the sway of palm trees_______.
Faith Tastes like_____a wine with taste of the earth and dirt and everything good in this world_____.
Faith Feels like__soothing quiet peaceful vibrations_________.
Faith Smells like___cedars in an island breeze_______.

Faith looks like_finally receiving a message back, from 1,000 of messages cast to the sea.

Men Beating Drums

Morality in Hollywood? Was there a time?

Yes, there was a time.  Hollywood, in the late 40's,  felt their job was to maintain and condition morality in suburban America. 

"A nude statue! Who said anything about nudity? Tits.  Didn't anyone tell you that tits aren't allowed in a Hollywood film? It doesn't matter how beautiful they are, it's immoral and indecent.  Plus, the goddamn statue has to come to life on screen. Do you want us to be accused of corrupting the whole of America?" Ava Gardner in My Story by Ava Gardner.

Did creating a strict moral code work?  No, policing morality did not work.  Because, by enforcing a moral code only pushes the sin deeper into society's stitching.  Also it took the responsibility off of the family and put it in the hands of the state.   Fascist control never works to moralize a society. 

Meditation Prompts: Hebrews 11:1-31

Prayer: Lord, I want to know what
Faith Sounds like__________.
Faith Tastes like__________.
Faith Feels like___________.
Faith Smells like__________.

Look for my response on Friday!!!!! Can't wait to hear from y'all.  

Men Beating Drums

Sleeping

The LORD hides his ways while we are sleeping.
Abraham slept, and a covenant was sealed.
Jacob slept, and he saw the future.
Peter slept, and the plan was finished.
We sleep, and are restored. 
Sleep, rest, find comfort in the LORD.
  

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Sermon Responses

Hebrews 10:32-39

Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
(The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran)

A farmer in the field sees the shadow moving across the land, the shadow is complexity filled:   hope-despair, fear-brave, but then the word became flesh.  As the dark purple cloud moves across his farm rising the dust up in whirling eddies he rests on his shovel.  He rested and all around him he heard the sound of dried wheat stalks swaying in the wind.   Dust tickled his throat.  He coughed.  He held onto his hat made of straw, he feared it would blow away.  All the land was thirsty, but his farmers almanac did not report any rain. The almanac had not said one word about banks calling in bank loans.

The farmer smiled.  He thought of all of the bank notices that were collecting on his kitchen table. The table was dust-filled, he had written S.O.S. in the dust, as a message maybe to a UFO or was it God?  He had borrowed on the banks in order to plant this year's crop. The year before all was wasted. By one hail storm! This year the drought! And still the banks called and called and called and called upon the isolated farmer.  The banks had lent the farmer money, and were now calling about the loan.   The banks not paid, sent yellow foreclosure notes. The official notes laid like a deck of tarot cards played by a psychic at the county fair.  The wood of the table held secrets from forgotten conversations.  Recorded in its wood so long ago.

The horror, of official visits from official representatives of the good old banks, was a serene nightmare.

The land had been with his family for sixty years.  His great grandfather had bought the land in 1866 a year after coming back to the Carolinas.  A year after killing his last soldier in blue.   His great grandfather hoped for a new beginning in Ohio.   A land of promise, a land that was fertile and ready for growing.  The land had been a stage of marriages, burials, and harvest festivals.   A place where one called home.  

The farmer knew his life here in Ohio was endangered. But still the farmer smiled. He joyfully accepted the plundering of his property for he knew what the bible declared, you will have a better possession an abiding one....He knew this land belonged to God. If God's will was to sell the land than so be it, no worries. Even if this meant working at a factory in Cincinnati, or in Cleveland.  He hoped beyond hope that he could move on from here.  But all he knew was the tending of the farm.  He smiled through the broken dreams and gutter swamps of his mind. Because he had an abiding possession that would never fade from Glory.

He looked at his hands and smiled.   Locusts played their legs. He wish he could have seen the sign of the times, he wish he could have seen the seven years of bad, and seven years of good.  He would have sold the farm the year before and have some change in his pockets.  But now all he had was faith in God and a smile that stated, "So be it!"

The wind scooped up the top soil.