Drell’s Descants

This was emailed to me:

><>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><>>
>> HE IS THE GREAT I AM!
>>
>> He is the First and Last, the Beginning and the End!
>> He is the keeper of Creation and the Creator of all!
>> He is the Architect of the universe and the Manager of all times.
>> He always was, He always is, and He always will be…
>> Unmoved, Unchanged, Undefeated, and never Undone!
>>
>> He was bruised and brought healing!
>> He was pierced and eased pain!
>> He was persecuted and brought freedom!
>> He was dead and brought life!
>> He is risen and brings power!
>> He reigns and brings Peace!
>>
>> The world can’t understand him,
>> The armies can’t defeat Him,
>> The schools can’t explain Him,
>> and The leaders can’t ignore Him.
>>
>> Herod couldn’t kill Him,
>> The Pharisees couldn’t confuse Him,
>> and The people couldn’t hold Him!
>>
>> Nero couldn’t crush Him,
>> Hitler couldn’t silence Him,
>> The New Age can’t replace Him,
>> and Donahue can’t explain Him away!
>>
>> He is light, love, longevity, and Lord.
>> He is goodness, Kindness, Gentleness, and God.
>>
>> He is Holy, Righteous, mighty, powerful, and pure.
>> His ways are right, His word is eternal,
>> His will is unchanging, and His mind is on me.
>>
>> He is my Redeemer, He is my Savior,
>> He is my guide, and He is my peace!
>> He is my Joy, He is my comfort,
>> He is my Lord, and He rules my life!
>>
>> I serve Him because His bond is love,
>> His burden is light, and His goal for me is abundant life.
>> I follow Him because He is the wisdom of the wise,
>> the power of the powerful, the ancient of days,
>> the ruler of rulers, the leader of leaders,
>> the overseer of the overcomers, and the sovereign Lord
>> of all that was and is and is to come.
>>
>> And if that seems impressive to you, try this for size.
>> His goal is a relationship with ME!
>> He will never leave me, never forsake me,
>> Never mislead me, never forget me, never overlook me,
>> and never cancel my appointment in His appointment book!
>>
>> When I fall, He lifts me up!
>> When I fail, He forgives!
>> When I am weak, He is strong!
>> When I am lost, He is the way!
>> When I am afraid, He is my courage!
>> When I stumble, He steadies me!
>> When I am hurt, He heals me!
>> When I am broken, He mends me!
>> When I am blind, He leads me!
>> When I am hungry, He feeds me!
>> When I face trials, He is with me!
>> When I face persecution, He shields me!
>> When I face problems, He comforts me!
>> When I face loss, He provides for me!
>> When I face Death, He carries me Home!
>>
>> He is everything for everybody, everywhere,
>> every time, and every way.
>>
>> He is God,
>> He is faithful.
>> I am His, and He is mine!
>>
>> My Father in heaven can whip the father
>> of this world. So, if you’re wondering why I
>> feel so secure, understand this…
>>
>> He said it and that settles it.
>> God is in control,
>> I am on His side, and that means all is well with my soul.
>>
>> Everyday is a blessing for GOD Is!
>>
>> — Author Unknown
>>
>> <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <>< <><>>

Mr. Sasscer is an Episcopalian who attends Calvary in Jacksonville, Diocese of Florida.

From: “roy sasscer”
Subject: Modern Day Miracle- THIS IS REAL, PLEASE READ
Date: Sun, 21 Aug 2005 22:32:41 -0400

To All,
Our God is a mighty God who loves us and wants the very best for us. He
has done a mighty work in my life and the life of my family this week, and I
need to share it with the world.
As many of you know, I was diagnosed with a degenerative eye disease 4
years ago. The name of my disease is retinitis pigmentosa. Very quickly my
sight discipated, to the point that all of my peripheral vision was gone; I
had only tunnel vision, in addition to total night blindness. I was
declared “legally blind” and had I had approx. 12 % of normal visual field.
That was the point that I was medically retired from the federal government,
and stopped driving a car.
For the past several years I have been going to school full-time, in an
effort to eventually attend seminary. God has made it known to me that even
though my sight is failing, that I am called to be an ordained priest. 2
weeks ago I graduated the University of North Florida, but that is not the
only miracle!
To the point of this e-mail- Wednesday, August 17th, My wife Melanie was
having her devotional time in the morning. During this time she was in
prayer about God’s guidance to she and I about our involvement in an
upcoming mission trip to Africa. Melanie asked God to give her confirmation
in His word, whether she should attend the trip or not. Melanie then turned
in her bible to John 9:1, and while reading it, heard from the Lord. He
said “if you put mud on Roy’s eyes, I will heal him today, and let this be
confirmation to you both that I have mighty work to do in Africa.” After
finishing her quiet time, she had a devotion time with our children, which
included prayers for my vision.
I did not know anything about this until we came home from church that
night, when Melanie told me that we needed to do something before going to
bed. Then she told me. Admittedly, I was skeptical, but after much prayer
time, Melanie and I followed Jesus’ example, mud, spit, and all.
After the mud was rinsed off, immediately I knew. JESUS HEALED MY
EYES!!!! My vision was completely restored, in fact, I did not even need my
glasses to read. I drove to work the next morning, and my feet have not
touched the ground since. The God who healed then is the same who heals
today. God is so incredible!!!!!!

For His Glory,
Roy <><</p>

From Inside Worship:

It used to be argued that slavery was abolished simply because it had ceased to be profitable, but all the evidence points the other way: in fact, it was abolished despite the fact that it was still profitable.

Could there be another reason for the abolition of slavery?

What we need to understand, then, is a collective change of heart.

This ‘collective change of heart’ was the evangelical revival that shook England to its core from the 1730s onwards. ‘Amazing Grace’ documents one such change of heart, that of an ex-slaver, John Newton. And since it became the hymn of the whole movement, ‘Amazing Grace’ also represents a ‘collective change of heart.’ It is testimony to the way that worship songs are to protest passionately against the dark determinism and craven conservatism of the age. For it flies in the face of current opinion by presenting, sharply and unsentimentally, the truth that both individuals and nations can, by the amazing grace of God, change wholeheartedly.

***

The story of John Newton proves why grace had to be amazing. For Newton was ‘no pious hymn-writer.’ ‘Amazing Grace’ was ‘his life before it was his song. And his life had been totally turned around.’

***

But what actually happened to Newton? When exactly ‘did that grace appear?’ During his captivity on the Sierra Leone peninsula, Newton had managed to smuggle out a letter home to his father in England. When his father received news about Newton’s enslavement, he immediately sent a ship to try and find him. By the time it reached Africa, Newton had finally managed to persuade Clow to send him far away from the princess and the plantation. He was now on the Kittam shore managing another factory, having renounced the idea of returning home. Therefore, ironically, he was now reluctant to make the homeward voyage. Nevertheless, at 1748, Newton left Africa on The Greyhound to get back to England ‘the long way round’, via Brazil and then Newfoundland. But on the last stretch of this journey, disaster struck. On March 9th 1748, Newton was woken up in the middle of the night to cries of ‘The ship is sinking!’ The cargo had been lost, the boat was full of water, and there was a man overboard. All night, the remaining crew baled water. Newton was terrified. He had recently been reading a translation of Thomas a Kempis’ classic, The Imitation of Christ, and had been struck by words whose influence over ‘Amazing Grace’ is clear:

Today the man is vigorous and gay and flourishing, and tomorrow he is cut down, withered and gone…ah wretched guilty creature?

In the morning, however, Newton went to the captain to offer some suggestion. But as he turned away, he threw back a glib comment, ‘If this will not do, the Lord have mercy on us.’ Suddenly he stopped, transfixed by the implications of what he had just said. ‘What mercy can there be for me?’ The ship’s ‘chief blasphemer, loudest swearer’, most ruthless rapist. For 11 hours, as he pumped water out of the ship, he thought frantically about what would happen to him if the ship were indeed to sink that day. He reconsidered whether his mother had been right after all. And if she was, and there was a God after all, and his son Jesus had died for those in distress, ‘then I thought there never was, nor could be, such a sinner as myself.’

In the morning it became clear that The Greyhound was not to sink. This left Newton to spend the rest of the home to think about Jesus. What he realized was that conversion was predicated upon the fact that God has done something in human history to make it possible.

The more I looked I looked at what Jesus had done on the cross, the more He met my case exactly. I needed someone to stand between a righteous God and my sinful self…I needed an Almighty Saviour who should step in and take my sins away, and I found such a one in the New Testament.

By Gloria Jackson (Wonderful thoughts for a Friday, in my humble opinion.)

God never speaks to me.
I never see Him.
The Host tastes and smells like bread.
His hand has never held mine in a touch that senses can speak to.

But I have woken from a sound sleep when someone needed me, without their calling me.
I have seen the wonder on the face of a newcomer at church, when people she didn’t know cared about her.
The holiness of the Host make me appreciate new potatoes, fresh mint… all the small life-sustaining things.
His hand is over me in blessing, beside me in guidance, behind me to support me.

The Lord is risen indeed.

A wonderful story about a reunion with the Lord. I had a similar experience in my late twenties.

Brad Drell
Lay, Western Louisiana
http://descant.classicalanglican.net/

________________________________

From: David B. Bailey [mailto:revdbb@aol.com]
Sent: Thursday, August 18, 2005 9:04 AM
To: Bradley L. Drell
Subject: It was pretty simple . . .

When I was in my late twenties, I found myself out of a job, out of a relationship, out of contact with my family, out of anything to do with organized religion, and pretty much out of hope. I was living on Long Island, and and one day was visiting the library at SUNY-StonyBrook to do some reading that had nothing to do with my profession (chemistry). It was here that I discovered the ministry and writings of Brother Roger Shultz of the Taize Community. I remember thinking, “If there really are places like that in the world, then life is worth living, just to find such a place”.

Several months later I was living in Philadelphia, working as a research chemist, with a growing circle of friends. Still, something was missing. For years I had been intellectually attracted to the Episcopal Church, but was afraid to make that first step in attending. Looking at ads for Episcopal churches in the local paper, I discovered the Church of the Good Samaritan, which was billed as a “large, friendly” place. Both the friendliness (I wouldn’t be rejected) and the largeness (I might not even be noticed!) appealed to me, so I made a commitment to attend at least one service.

I drove past the parking lot three Sundays in a row before I summoned up the courage to park and go in.

It was a very nice service, and I sat next to a friendly mother/daughter pair who told me I needed to meet Fr. Dan (Sullivan) at the end of the service. I was sitting in the back, so I was one of the first of about 200 people out the door. Fr. Dan stopped the “handshake” line for quite a while, to make sure he knew who I was, where I was from, and to personally invite me back the next week.

Next Sunday was a baptism of a baby. At Good Sam the font was in the back, so I had a really good view of the baptism. As Dan headed to the front for the signing, he was showing the baby off to everyone in the pews. Joy radiated from him. As he passed me, I felt the joy and was very moved.

Then God spoke to me:

“I love you. I forgive you. I want you back.”

Gulit that I had carried for years drained out of me. The joy of Christ that Fr. Dan had carried with him overcame me.

I left that service in a daze, drove around for hours, and finally decided to return for the Evening Prayer service. When I got there, it was only a lay reader and myself in the chapel. I had never been to an Evening Prayer service, so she helped lead me through that time of worship.

Afterwards she came out and introduced herself, asked who I was and what had brought me there that evening. I told her all that had happened to me that day.She replied, “Should we go up to the altar rail and give thanks that Jesus wants to be back in your life?” So we did.

It was years later before I tracked down the date of that Sunday. It was March 1, 1981: Saint David’s Day!

God truly has a sense of humor!!

David
–
The Rev’d. David B. Bailey
Rector, Saint Stephen’s Episcopal Church
Cincinnati, OH

“Surfing the Edge of Chaos”.

This is not my own witness, but my husband’s. He is temporarily separated from us, but only for a time, and unable to speak for himself.

He was brought up in a Christian family; indeed, his father was ordained as a missionary and sent to minister to three small, rural congregations in New Mexico. He went to denominational boarding schools and college and tended sheep during the summer. Sometime before I met him, he lost his faith. I never knew precisely, but I believe that he confused God with his own father’s lack of love. He often complained that his parents never loved him and had sent him away to school at 12 to be rid of him. His father died before we met, so I don’t know.

For the length of our 40-year marriage, I prayed that he would find Christ. Except for rare occasions, I went to church by myself. He found other things to do on Sunday mornings. He was an avid small boat sailor and cycler, but when I tried to talk to him about Christ, he’d grow angry. After many years, I understood I should leave it to others (men especially) to witness to him, but the Christians among his friends did not share their faith, even when I suggested it, and since he wasn’t in church, he never heard how much his Father God loved him. I told him, but he didn’t believe.

As he grew ill with the complications of diabetes and strokes, he was often hospitalized. We grew familiar with the ER. After he was transferred “upstairs†to a regular room, our clergy would visit, talk awhile, and depart after a short prayer, which he never refused. Two men in the parish also visited. One was a cycler and one was a sailor, and they connected through their common interests. Still, nothing. Finally, he was needed to be in a nursing home. Our clergy and the two men continued to visit and he was grateful—nothing more.

Sometimes his medication affected his mind and he said things that startled me. One day he announced that he wanted to take Communion–and he was very insistent. “This is the Holy Spirit’s work,†I concluded, and asked one of our priests to conduct a bedside Eucharist. Two months later, the nursing home called to tell me that the paramedics were taking him to the ER. I called our rector, and in a cubicle in that ER, a miracle happened in four short sentences. Without preamble, Fr. T said,

“You are very sick. I need to ask you some questions.†(Oh, God, Fr. T. thinks he’s dying!)

“Do you know that Jesus died so that you can be in Heaven with him?†(Please, God, let him say Yes!)

“Are you sorry for all of the bad things you’ve done?†(What bad things? He was a loving husband and wonderful father.)

“Do you accept Jesus as your Savior?†(One more Yes—please!)

At his memorial service, his friends and relatives heard about the lost sheep who didn’t want to be found, but whom the Shepherd found at last. “He knew all about sheep; after all, he was a shepherd himself,†said Fr. T.

Episcopalian Sees Jesus At The Eucharist In Response To Prayer

I had the privilege of growing up in the Episcopal Church but spent many years of my adult life in an evangelical community church. I returned to the Episcopal Church about 7 years ago and have been so blessed by the Liturgy and the Sacraments. But I had been away from the sacramental tradition for so long that I wasn’t sure what I believed about Holy Communion.

So I asked God to show me what to believe. Was Christ really present in the sacrament? On Palm Sunday 2000 as the celebrant was praying it suddenly struck me that the Holy Table looked like a table set for a holiday meal – with a tablecloth, candles, wine goblets, and plates. And as I was looking I saw Jesus sitting at the table. He looked at me and my mind was flooded with the words: “Here I am. I stand at the door and knock, if anyone hears my voice and opens the door I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.†(Rev 3:20 NIV)

I have seen with my eyes the reality of the Risen Lord Jesus with us. And why should I have been surprised? Jesus promised us, “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.†(Matthew 18:20 NIV)

I just received this, and I don’t have a witness for tomorrow. Please consider writing a brief witness to the Risen Christ for this blog and the HOBD listserv.

From a priest who has requested to remain anonymous:

I went to a Methodist seminary and was ordained in the Methodist pastorate back in the 70’s, although I knew, by the end of the first semester of seminary, that I truly belonged in Anglicanism. I did nothing about it, however, because I had been raised United Methodist and my whole family (brothers, sister, parents, grandparents) were UMC.

When I married, in 1979, my wife was that rarest of all creatures, a cradle Episcopalian who was still active in church. Marriage corresponded with a return to graduate school and a new state, so we joined the local Episcopal Church and got involved. After 2 years I began to explore ordination in ECUSA; the process was difficult, and multiple pitfalls were placed in my path. (In retrospect I suppose that was good, as it forced me to consider, over and over again, whether or not I was truly called to the priesthood.) Another move to another state and a new job, teaching in an Episcopal school, interrupted the process toward ordination. It took a while to get back on track with it–including having the headmaster tell me one Friday that I had to take the General Ordination Exam, and that it started Monday (same time as I was trying to write and grade semester exams for students). Once again, it seemed like another roadblock; I really began to question whether or not ordination would occur. How could my perception of a clear call to priesthood have been so wrong?

Yet it must have been, if no diocesan standing committee had yet seen fit to give their agreement.

Then, in April, my second son was born. Trying to do end-of-school-year activities, cope with a new baby and a 2-year-old, and deal with the hassles of everyday life wore me down. In June I started to feel sick, and spent nearly a week in bed with severe headaches and double vision, before my wife called the doctor. I went to the hospital and was admitted with a 108º fever–enough to kill, or at least cause permanent brain damage. Turned out I had meningitis, and wasn’t expected to live. I was sick enough that I actually think I was ready and willing to die, but God had another idea. Lying in the isolation bed in the hospital, praying for release from the headaches and double vision and fever, I heard very clearly a voice say to me, “No, you will not die. How could you then be a priest?” There was no one in the room. I continued to pray pretty much to die, and the voice kept telling me that that wouldn’t happen; that if I died I wouldn’t be a priest. (Keep in mind that the ordination process had been bogged down at this point for 4 years, and I pretty much ‘knew’ that it wasn’t going anywhere.) Later that day the fever broke and, much to the doctor’s surprise, I began to get better. Two months later I was out of the hospital, and 4 months after that was ordained deacon. Within 16 months of getting sick I was a newly ordained priest. I have never forgotten the voice I heard in the hospital, and the affirmation of a call to the priesthood.

To the point, four years ago my then 10 year old daughter had an accident and sustained head trauma. She began to vomit and lose consciousness. She sustained a epidural hematoma.At one point in the hospital IC unit she coded. This was at 2AM. The surgeon told me that he had contacted Mt Sinai Hospital in Manhatten (12 miles away) and that a prominent Pediatric nurosurgeon was coming off duty and agreed to rush to us and perform surgery. I tried to pray of course, but could not. Then every time I began to pray a small voice within me said ” I have returned your daughter unto you”. As long as I live I will know Beyond Any Doubt that this was Jesus. No doubt at all. I am not very demonstrative about my faith. I am not in the habit of talking about my faith. ( I was raised “High Church” after all: prayerbook Catholic and not very emotional about it.) But from that moment on my daughter began to improve. The surgery went as well as could be expected . In five days time my daughter was home. In six months time there was no evidence of the injury on the CAT scan. Fortunately a very good evangelical Episcopal priest and a very good Anglocatholic Episcopal priest were able to counsel my family and me on the spiritual meaning of this experience. There is more to it and I wish a could relate the whole thing to you at leisure. Suffice it to say that the Lord Jesus is risen and heals us. I will tell any one this story in a casual setting. You may use this story on the listserv. I only ask that you do not use my name because of my position and that you do not identify the ********** office. Your brother in Christ ***********

Very interesting and indeed intriguing. http://www.faithwriters.com/websites/my_website.php?id=4100

Rather lengthly. Below are some snippits.

Brad Drell
Lay, Western Louisiana
http://descant.classicalanglican.net

My path to Christ has been tortuous, and characterized by rebellion, grace and redemption. I was baptized in the Episcopal Church shortly after my birth in July of 1957, both my parents being life long members of the Anglican Communion. However my parents, who were in the Sri Lanka Foreign Service, sent me to Sri Lanka for the next 2 and one half years as they were almost immediately transferred to Burma which was rife with the plague at the time. My twin sister, and I, were underweight, and it was thought better to have us in the relative safety of Sri Lanka, than to expose us to possible plague virus. We were therefore raised by my maternal grandparents. My grandparents were of mixed religions. My grandmother was Christian (her mother was Christian and her father Buddhist, but consented to have her raised Christian, on the understanding that she could not inherit). My grandfather was Buddhist, and was disinherited when he married my grandmother. In the odd society of Sri Lanka, however the families remained close, despite the bitter religious quarrel. I was close to my Buddhist cousins and to my grandparents, especially my grandfather. I had a Buddhist nanny, and while I did not attend Buddhist ceremonies, I often accompanied my nanny to the Buddhist Temple, playing outside on the Temple trees under the eye of her friends, until she emerged. In addition, the Buddhist priest often came to our home, and was kind to me.

***

Sometime during my seventh year I was disabused of this notion. At that time, (I’m not sure what precisely happened), I suddenly understood with crystal clarity that Christians were not Buddhists, and that Buddhists did not go to the Christian heaven. I don’t believe I discussed the matter with my parents, but I did, tearfully approach my nanny with the problem. She gave me a big hug and her usual kind laugh and told me “that’s fine, Christians are welcome in the Buddhist heavenâ€. At that moment, I remember deciding that I would never follow the Christian God.

***

I don’t recall anybody asking me point blank during Confirmation class, if I believed in Jesus Christ, and in point of fact I did not (though I did believe in God)and no longer thought of myself as being semi-Buddhist.

***

After that, life went on as usual. I did very well in my career of academic neurology. Things were rolling along nicely until suddenly my sister, who by that time had completed her own residency and fellowship decided she wished to adopt children and to make our union permanent.

Personally I thought it was a dumb idea. I didn’t have time for children, I was Assistant Professor of Neurology and had grant funding for immunology research. I had my own laboratory, technician and fellows. However, I did wish to continue living with my sister, so we shook hands on the arrangement. Our daughter Karen came home 8 years ago.

***

My call room had a copy of a Gideon Society Bible and I started reading it. At the same time we started attending the local Episcopal church in Fort Wayne, and my day’s off coincided with Bible study, so I began attending Bible study and reading through the C.S. Lewis books on the bookshelf in the undercroft. Our experiences with our own children had sharpened our eyes, and we found that a number of children in the church struggled with their own learning issues. I had previously found that it was difficult to seriously offer treatment of learning disorders or ADD in a private neurology practice as the evaluation took so much time it was a serious drag on the practice. We therefore started to offer it free through the church instead. Later we set up a summer camp for struggling readers, which was also successful.

***

I still haven’t resolved the issue of how Christianity deals with those of other faiths. I don’t think Christianity and Buddhism are different paths to the same end, however I also don’t believe that the God who has been so patient with me will be less patient with my far more deserving friends and relatives. I don’t know what His plans are, but I trust Him that He does have plans. Right now, trusting Christ, even against appearances, is enough for me.

I was a good kid. While not exactly a “church-boy”, I went willingly to
church, without my parents attending most Sundays.

At age fifteen, my best friend and I decided to go to a camp sponsored
by a parachurch evangelical organization. The main goal shared between
Curtis and me was to display our high school football in-shape selves in
the hope of meeting girls.

Each evening there was a simple evangelistic message and for the first
time in my life it registered with me that Jesus had “died for our sins”
and “was raised on the third day.” Why hadn’t I heard in my church
before now the most primitive tradition of early Christian preaching (I
Corinthians 15:3,4)?

The preacher told us that we could “receive” Jesus and be “born … of
God” (John 1:12,13). The preacher said we could talk directly to Jesus
in prayer; Jesus was truly alive and would hear our prayer. I wanted to
know that I was “reconciled to God through the death of his Son” and
“saved by his life” (Romans 5:10).

Lying in my upper bunk on New Year’s Eve, 1963, I prayed to Jesus as if
he were alive and could hear my prayer. I received him as my Savior.
Then I went to sleep.

I had no idea what was supposed to happen in my life, how to be
different. But about two weeks after going home, my parents sat me down
and asked me what had happened to me at the camp. They said I was like a
new person.

My only adequate explanation then and now (forty years later) is that
the same Jesus Christ, who lived and died, actually rose from the tomb
and had come into my life. How he did that last part I had no idea then.

I have lived through many of the same ups and downs common to humanity,
but I have never wavered from this simple faith, including a child-like
acceptance of the reality of empty tomb and the resurrection of Jesus.
All the critical scholarship I have read on this latter subject has not
shaken that simple faith.

Jim Workman
Rector, St. Michael’s Episcopal Church
Easley, South Carolina

“Be wise as serpents….and at least as prepared.”

(8^)>[] Bald guy with beard in clergy collar smiling