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Showing posts from April, 2019

Timeless Truth from Brontë

Excerpt from the Preface to the second edition of Jane Eyre. As with all words of wisdom, Charlotte Brontë's sentiments expressed here are timeless.

Conventionality is not morality. Self-righteousness is not religion. To attack the first is not to assail the last. To pluck the mask from the face of the Pharisee, is not to lift an impious hand to the Crown of Thorns.These things and deeds are diametrically opposed: they are as distinct as is vice from virtue. Men too often confound them: they should not be confounded: appearance should not be mistaken for truth; narrow human doctrines, that only tend to elate and magnify a few, should not be substituted for the world-redeeming creed of Christ. There is - I repeat it - a difference; and it is good, and not a bad action to mark broadly and clearly the line of separation between them.
Excerpt from the Preface to the Second Edition of Jane Eyre and signed:

Currer Bell
December 21st, 1847

Eternal Love Shines from Calvary

Oh, Jesus, high upon the cross
What agonies you had to bear.
For all our sakes, you suffered there
That we might live, despite your loss.

Your love eternal shines on all,
Although 'twas gained by hate and gall.
Dear Lord, my tears, shed for your pain
Reflect my gratitude, my gain.

How will I ever let you know
How much I care, how much I owe?
My shallow prayers reveal my heart,
And deep within, true love impart.

--Sue Smith

This poem was written after reading "Contemplating The Cross" by Tricia McCary Rhodes. Calvary is the Latin name for the place where Jesus was crucified on Good Friday. The place is also called "Golgotha" and means place of the Skull. This was a rocky outcropping immediately outside Jerusalem's walls where felons were executed by crucifixion. 

Jesus Rode on a Donkey

The Donkey

When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born.

With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil’s walking parody
On all four-footed things.

The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.

Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.