May 16Thou shalt be called by a new name … thou shalt also be a crown of glory in the hand of the LORD, and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God — Isa. 62:2, 3.
Let us never forget that we are a "peculiar people," separate from the great body of nominal Christians, as well as from the world, having higher hopes, aims and ambitions and favored with a clearer insight into the deep things of God, having been called out of our former darkness into His marvelous light. And if thus separate from the world and from Christians who partake largely of the worldly spirit, what wonder if we find them all out of harmony with us, and either ignoring or opposing us—Z '03, 164 (R 3199). The word name is used in the Scriptures in the sense of appellation, nature, character, honor, office and works. The Christ class were promised a new name, especially in the sense of new nature and office, and as such to become a glorious crown of many radiant jewels in the Lord's hands, reflecting the splendors of Divine Truth, character and work, for the blessings of the whole human family—P '35, 62. Parallel passages: Psa. 122:6; 102:13-16; Isa. 60:1-3; Rev. 2:17; 21:2, 9, 10, 17, 23, 24; Ezek. 48:35; Jer. 11:16; 33:16; Heb. 12:22; Gal. 4:26; Prov. 12:4; Psa. 132:18; Cant. 3:11; Rev. 19:12; 1 Thes. 2:19. Hymns: 310, 8, 72, 152, 201, 204, 314. Poems of Dawn, 203: Our Blessed Hope. Tower Reading: Z '11, 413 (R 4913). Questions: How has our hope affected me this week? Amid what experiences? What was helpful or hindersome therein? What were its results? |
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OUR BLESSED HOPE
WHAT though this earthly house of clay
Sink into ruin and decay,
Though health and vigor pass away,
Christ is my life.
What though fond dreams of youth be fled,
The light that shone upon my head
Extinguished and forever dead,
Christ is my light.
What though bright hopes now withered lie,
Like autumn leaves, all sere and dry,
Or meteors vanished from the sky,
Christ is my hope.
What though rude billows round me roll,
His voice the tempest can control;
They ruffle not my tranquil soul,
Christ is my peace.
What though dear friends I once caressed
Within the silent grave now rest,
The valley clods above them pressed,
Christ ever lives.
What though perplexing paths appear,
God's Word, a lamp, makes all things clear;
Onward I pass, nor evil fear,
Christ is my way.
What though the darkness deeper grows,
And foes more active to oppose,
God's truth provides a sweet repose,
Christ shall appear.
WHAT though this earthly house of clay
Sink into ruin and decay,
Though health and vigor pass away,
Christ is my life.
What though fond dreams of youth be fled,
The light that shone upon my head
Extinguished and forever dead,
Christ is my light.
What though bright hopes now withered lie,
Like autumn leaves, all sere and dry,
Or meteors vanished from the sky,
Christ is my hope.
What though rude billows round me roll,
His voice the tempest can control;
They ruffle not my tranquil soul,
Christ is my peace.
What though dear friends I once caressed
Within the silent grave now rest,
The valley clods above them pressed,
Christ ever lives.
What though perplexing paths appear,
God's Word, a lamp, makes all things clear;
Onward I pass, nor evil fear,
Christ is my way.
What though the darkness deeper grows,
And foes more active to oppose,
God's truth provides a sweet repose,
Christ shall appear.
