Six Bright Stars

considering the words of Saul of Tarsus, later called Paul the Apostle, as found in his second letter to the Corinthians, chapter 4, verse 7.
 

WE HAVE THIS TREASURE

No, my friends, don’t look to me. I am only the courier; He is the Message. I am no more than an everyday earthen jar, fragile and cheap. Yet within me gleams the brightest and most priceless of treasures: the presence of the Spirit of Christ.

This knowledge leaps like white-hot flames within me, a fire enkindled by divine love, scarcely contained inside the clay walls of this dust-formed vessel.

Once I would have condemned anyone who dared make such an outrageous claim. Blasphemy! I would rage, offended at such pretension and presumption. Yes, once I was blind. Traditions and laws hung like a heavy curtain before my eyes. Once I thought I was Someone—a man deserving of respect, even esteem—so much better than those around me of lesser rank or of inferior morals, when all the time I was in reality a ragged beggar, wholly unfit for the Kingdom of Heaven, living in the garbage of the streets, tainted by its filth. All I possessed was worthless, really. All of my learning acquired through years of diligent study under the tutelage of the finest teachers, compared to knowing and identifying with the crucified and risen Christ was worse than useless; it was of no more value than a heap of rank refuse! As a stranger to him I had nothing. I was destitue. Now, however, being allied with Him, my fortune is beyond counting.

My friends, this wealth of which I speak is not to be hoarded. God’s great love, his unaccountable mercy, compels me to share with you his vast, unlimited, unimaginable, unfathomable riches. He will not give you corruptible things. What he bestows will not tarnish. It cannot be swept away in a storm. No thief will break in and take it; no king will be able to demand it as tribute. His gift is the presence of the Holy One—the Holy Spirit of Christ himself—dwelling within you, both now and forever.

Oh, that my own people would claim for themselves the fortune freely offered by the Giver’s extended hand. Oh, that the almighty and merciful God would indwell my brothers and sisters—the Children of Israel—through the Holy Spirit, just as the fire and smoke of the Holy Presence filled the wilderness tabernacle in the days of Moses.

My dear friends and all who read my words, may you also inherit and accept the gracious Gift of God. May you also know the joy of discovering, and the delight of receiving as your own—for the Promise is for you as well—The Treasure.

© 2011 by Dennis D. Kemper

BEHOLD THE GLORY
John the Baptist preaches in the wilderness
 

He must increase. I must decrease. He is the conflagration; I am the wavering oil lamp’s flame. He is exalted among angels, men, mountains, rivers, creatures great, organisms small. And I—I stand in the shadows of his radiant glory. I am not worthy even to assume the lowly role of a slave removing the dusty sandals from his master’s feet.

My Brothers, My Sisters, Children of Israel and Children of Ishmael, I have come to the desert to announce, to this barren land to proclaim: He has come! The promised One, bearing the name, Savior, and the unparalleled title, God Is Here! The Christ—Our Messiah—has come!

Behold, privileged generation: The Lamb of God! Behold your King!

The Lord is merciful. He has not forgotten us.
The Lord is compassionate. He has not abandoned us.
The Lord is long-suffering. He has not condemned us.

This is why he has sent me to you, compelling me to divide among you—all who desire a share—the vast riches of his goodness and mercy. All who desire a portion will have enough, and still more—much more—will remain.

The old creation is not large enough to contain the entirety of the King’s treasury nor pure enough to withstand the blaze of his glory—brighter than the fires of a forge, more luminous than the glow of molten metal pulled from the roaring flames of the smith’s furnace. He will baptize with such fire. Some will wither like dry straw; others will be cleansed of all impurities when their souls are plunged beneath the flames.

He must increase; I must decrease. His words are like the roar of ocean waves collapsing upon the rocky shore. Mine, in comparison, are merely the soft plash of a raindrop on a dusty path. His voice resounds with authority, unhesitatingly obeyed and acknowledged by the highest ranks of the heavenly hosts, reverberating even down to the deepest caverns of the earth. Dark spirits hear, and tremble.

Nevertheless, I will shout to make my voice heard above the clamor of the marketplace. I will declare the Glory of the Lord for as long as he gives me breath. Therefore I proclaim to you today, and to generations yet to come; I will announce to all tribes and nations across man-made borders, to those near and to those far away, across the boundaries of the ages, crying as loud as I can out in this wilderness: Prepare the way! Prepare the way for the Lord!

© 2011 by Dennis Dale Kemper

 
MY DELIVERER

Testimony of Simon Peter from Mark 4:35–41 and  Acts 5:18–44

 
He came
walking on stormy sea;
reached out his hand to me.
He’s my deliverer.
His voice
made wind and waves grow calm;
the lashing rain was gone,
as was my faithless fear.
He’s my deliverer.

He brought me up from the pit of dismay.

His light
flooded my prison cell;
the iron shackles fell.
He’s my deliverer.
The gate,
as though as in a dream,
opened by hand unseen;
then I knew it was he
from death delivered me.

He set my feet on a rock.

And when
the race at last is run;
my days on earth are done,
still my deliverer
will be
my strength though daylight dim;
I’ve learned to trust in him.
No longer will I fear.
He’s my deliverer.

He brought me out of the cold, clinging clay.

To my deliverer be all the praise!*
 

*Italics are based on Psalm 40:2,3

 
© 2011 by Dennis Dale Kemper