June 2I determined not to know any thing among you, save Jesus Christ, and him crucified — 1 Cor. 2:2.
Our observation of those consecrated ones who have permitted other themes than "this gospel" to engross time and attention leads us to advise such to be very jealous in husbanding time and talent for the ministry of the Gospel, leaving all other subjects, however interesting, to others now, and to the future life for ourselves, when all knowledge shall be ours. Those who for any avoidable cause turn aside from the ministry of the true and only Gospel, we have invariably observed, are quickly turned out of the way or greatly hindered in their course toward the attaining of the Kingdom—Z '95, 116 (R 1811). Christ Jesus and Him crucified signifies our Ransom and our Example. It therefore comprehends our justification and sanctification and is a brief summary of what Christ is to His followers. Our interest in one another as God's people should have this thought permeating all our relations with one another. We may profitably as fellow-disciples of Christ concentrate our attention upon this thought to the exclusion of all other things—P '32, 62. Parallel passages: Gal. 6:14; Phil. 3:8, 13, 14; Acts 5:30, 31, 42; 13:23, 26-33; 16:31; 17:2, 3; 18:5, 6; 19:4; 20:20, 21; 26:22, 23; Rom. 5:8-11; 1 Cor. 1:17, 24, 30; 2:3-8; 4:1, 2; 3:5-10; 2 Cor. 3:3, 6; 4:5; 6:1. Hymns: 116, 13, 44, 78, 91, 130, 136. Poems of Dawn, 245: The Coming of His Feet. Tower Reading: Z '12, 193 (R 5044). Questions: Have I this week sought to serve Jesus only? How? Why? With what results? |
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THE COMING OF HIS FEET
IN the crimson of the morning, in the whiteness of
the noon,
In the amber glory of that day's retreat,
In the midnight, robed in darkness, or the gleaming
of the moon,
I listen to the coming of His feet.
I heard His weary footsteps on the sands of Galilee,
On the Temple's marble pavement, on the street,
Worn with weight of sorrow, faltering up the slopes
of Calvary,
The sorrow of the coming of His feet.
Down the minster aisles of splendor, from betwixt
the cherubim,
Through the wondering throng, with motion strong
and fleet,
Sounds His victor tread approaching, with a music far
and dim—
The music of the coming of His feet.
Sandaled not with sheen of silver, girded not with
woven gold,
Weighted not with shimmering gems and odors
sweet,
But white-winged and shod with glory in the Tabor
light of old—
The glory of the coming of His feet.
He is coming, O, my spirit, with His everlasting
peace,
With his blessedness immortal and complete,
He is coming, O, my spirit, and His coming brings
release,
I listen for the coming of His feet!
IN the crimson of the morning, in the whiteness of
the noon,
In the amber glory of that day's retreat,
In the midnight, robed in darkness, or the gleaming
of the moon,
I listen to the coming of His feet.
I heard His weary footsteps on the sands of Galilee,
On the Temple's marble pavement, on the street,
Worn with weight of sorrow, faltering up the slopes
of Calvary,
The sorrow of the coming of His feet.
Down the minster aisles of splendor, from betwixt
the cherubim,
Through the wondering throng, with motion strong
and fleet,
Sounds His victor tread approaching, with a music far
and dim—
The music of the coming of His feet.
Sandaled not with sheen of silver, girded not with
woven gold,
Weighted not with shimmering gems and odors
sweet,
But white-winged and shod with glory in the Tabor
light of old—
The glory of the coming of His feet.
He is coming, O, my spirit, with His everlasting
peace,
With his blessedness immortal and complete,
He is coming, O, my spirit, and His coming brings
release,
I listen for the coming of His feet!
