Monday Morning Music Ministry

7-15-24

My old and dear friend Mark Dittmar shares wonderful, brief but profound spiritual thoughts every day through e-mail blasts he calls “Nuggets.”

Recently one of his messages spoke to me more than usual, and on several levels. His title was a question – “How Much Is a Picture Worth?” and the old saying was turned around:

An artist and a writer were arguing about whose work was more significant. “Well,” said the artist smugly, “one picture is worth a thousand words.”

“Hey, that’s good. Who wrote that?” countered the writer.

As someone who is a writer and an artist (come to think of it, so is Mark) I appreciated the points of view. Throughout most of human history, works of art and narratives were inextricably related. The creative expressions had virtually common functions. From cave paintings through scrolls and tapestries, paintings and stained-glass windows, pictures told stories. In the same fashion, as writing became codified, alphabets and books revealed themselves through more than letters and words: illuminated manuscripts; decorative scrolls; fabulous works like The Book of Kells.

Words and pictures – narratives and images – underwent a Great Divorce with the invention of the printing press. Almost overnight, words were“liberated.” Books comprised of only printed type were the norm; and artists were seduced, in a manner of speaking, to be “non-representational,” no longer obliged to tell stories or depict scenes with narrative import.

But at the turn of the 20^th century there was reconciliation of sorts. Stories and graphics, aided by technology and ingenuity and commercialism, discovered each other again in movies, comics, animation, and other plastic arts and expressions.

Again, it could be stated, or argued: “A picture is worth a thousand words.” I think it is creative delight that the proposition is an insoluble mystery. But one manifestation I have not yet mentioned is the age-old literary form of the fable… myths… epic poems and sagas… what storytellers and troubadours have done. That is, melding different artistic forms of expression.

Jesus called them “parables.”

Post-modernists think they have invented the “Power of Story,” but they merely have rediscovered, or try to, the mode of “painting word pictures.” He did not say anything to them without using a parable (Mark 4:34). Jesus, maybe more than Aesop or Confucius, dealt in word-pictures.

Mark – my friend, not the ancient Apostle – made reference to a painting that is making the rounds of the Internet. It illustrates a familiar parable, a well-known story: Jesus’s description of the Lost Sheep.

If a shepherd has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray (Matthew 8:12,13).

The parable presents a picture partly because it poses a moral dilemma; at least a “practical” challenge. Would you jeopardize the whole flock to search for one sheep? Would the owner of the flock approve? Did the lost sheep deserve its fate by straying from the flock? These are legitimate questions.

… unless you are that lost sheep.

The Savior of our souls is willing – He was willing; we have the record of it – to sacrifice all, even His own life, so the lost sheep might be saved. The point of the parable, in fact the point of view of God’s plan of salvation, is that He cares for us. He seeks us out. I believe that if the entirety of the human race had been sinless except for one person – let’s say you – Jesus would still have gone to the cross.

Speaking of the cross, we know that Jesus was beaten and whipped and nailed to that cross. But, in truth (imagine this as a picture) He virtually climbed and scrambled up the cross, and invited those spikes… so willing was He to die for you and me, taking our punishment upon Himself.

In the same way, the painting that’s going around the Internet really brought tears to my eyes. It depicts the sheep not merely lost but stuck in mud and muck, struggling. And it depicts the Good Shepherd. He is not viewing the distressed sheep from afar, or calling its name, or tip-toeing in its direction.

No, the Good Shepherd is running, trudging, muddy Himself, desperate to save the Lost Sheep. Picture the scene.

One more artistic expression to add to the miracle of creativity. This parable, this word-picture, this painting, has a holy counterpart in many hymns and Gospel songs. We have “sermons in song,” just as pictures can tell stories. One that moves me the most is “The Ninety and Nine.”

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine; Are they not enough for Thee?” But the Shepherd made answer: “This of Mine Has wandered away from Me. And although the road be rough and steep, I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

And all through the mountains, thunder-riv’n, And up from the rocky steep, There arose a glad cry to the gate of Heav’n, “Rejoice! I have found My sheep!” And the angels echoed around the throne, “Rejoice, for the Lord brings back His own!”

What a picture.

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If any readers are interested in receiving Mark’s “Daily Nuggets,” contact him at mdittmar65@yahoo.com and ask to be put on the circulation list by putting “Interested in Receiving Nuggets” in the subject line.

Click: The Ninety and Nine

9-28-15

A tweenager I have gotten to know was saddened by the recent death of her grandfather. As a young Christian she displayed a concern that many youngsters otherwise would not feel: “I never had the chance to tell him about Jesus!” I thought of this yesterday when a neighbor told me he invited another neighbor to church one Wednesday evening; unable to attend, the fellow was invited on the following Saturday night. But the next morning the invited guest, in his 30s, was found dead in his living room. My friend had not inquired of the guy’s “standing with the Lord,” but church would have been a time to open such conversation.

These are poignant stories. Timing – as with so many things in life! – can be excruciating.

In significant matters like a person’s relationship with Jesus, making the simple but profound decision to accept Christ and be secure about eternal salvation, to be a child of God and a citizen of Heaven, we all have responsibilities. Jesus commanded us to share the Gospel. Not just with grandfathers and neighbors, but to all the world.

Yet, we can only do so much. It is my opinion that the contemporary church either makes too little of evangelism – diluting the Gospel – or too much, trying to “seal the deal” with professions of faith, signed pledges, and obligatory testimonies. We need to remind ourselves that our commission is to share the Gospel; it is, by holy design, the work of the Holy Spirit to convict, lead, and witness to people’s hearts.

Do we think the Holy Spirit inadequate to do the work Jesus foretold?

We should not stop coming alongside those new in faith, of course not, but we do not seal those deals, so to speak. We cannot. Individuals do, and only by the prompting and power of the Holy Spirit of God.

Further, to be humble about our roles can give us a clearer picture of things we are doing… and not doing, as Christian servants. That young lady who cried, “I never had the chance to tell Grandpa about Jesus!” did not mean she never had the chance. Nothing against her sincerity or naiveté – we all share such grievous regrets of timing – but what happened was she never took the chance. She had the chance; we all do. My neighbor took the chance by issuing an invitation. But, wow, what a reminder.

Right here, I only want to expand on this in a different way. You might be reading this, and might be someone who does not buy in to the act of “accepting Jesus,” or the importance of a “decision.” You might not be comfortable or consider it your role to “share the Gospel.” Or to respond to such forms of outreach. You are not alone, even in this land of many churches.

Well… then, this message is for you. You might not share; you might be shared to; you might dismiss the importance of “accepting Christ.” Maybe you have heard about such things, but never actually heard them directly. You are hearing now. Stick around for another paragraph or two.

We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. A just God cannot accept sinners determined to reject Him. As humankind discovered its inability to please the Lord by offerings and works, and our “clean” garments were still as filthy rags, God provided the Perfect Offering. He sent His Son to earth to teach and heal and preach and inspire – to save – a lost world. Christ became the sacrifice for our sins, that whoever believes in their hearts He is the Son of God; and confesses that God raised Him from the dead, shall be saved.

To this statement of Good News, if you add anything, that is foolish; if you subtract anything, that is dangerous. The Gospel invitation, condensed.

Now you have heard it. Whether you live a few more days or a few more decades, the Gospel has been shared with you. Next? Search the Bible; and pray to God for His Spirit to come into your heart… and your mind, that any questions you have will be answered. It is a prayer that never goes unanswered!

“Timing” still is important. This might be the last day of the rest of your life!

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We might stray, we might feel alone, we might think we are far from the Shepherd’s sight, or care. But remember the Parable of the Lost Sheep. Ninety-nine sheep might be in the fold, but He will seek out the one who is lost. This song was written by Elizabeth Clephane; melody by Ira Sankey, 150 years ago. Sung here by Dean Phelps.

Click: The Ninety and Nine

1-9-12

It’s all over the news now, the disparity between the “99 per cent” and the “One per cent” – or, rather, the resentment and envy that the majority is supposed to harbor against the more wealthy. It is at the core of the “Occupy” crowds’ chants and signs.

Theodore Roosevelt correctly observed that the sin of envy is no less a sin than that of greed. And years ago, a friend from France once gave me the best definition of Socialism (therefore, its most potent pushback). Francois Mitterand had been elected president in his country; the Socialists were coming to power; and among their proposals, in the name of equality, was the abolition of First-Class seats on public transportation.

“Why is it that the Socialists never want to abolish anything that is second-class?” my friend asked.

That riposte has come to mind when hearing so often lately of the Ninety-Nine versus the One per cents. “Versus” is the operative word; a campaign to raise the civic temperature. But something else has come to mind – that Jesus had a different take on the numbers of 99 and one. Nothing to do with current politics… except as those numbers provide a shout-out to our souls.

Let us remember Christ’s parable of the Lost Sheep. It is found in Luke 15:4-7. The gentle shepherd had a flock of 100, but one had gone astray. And he set out to search, high and low, far and wide, for that wayward sheep. The sheep was found, rescued, and restored to the shepherd’s flock.

Many of us have the natural reaction to think that the sensible thing would have been to play safe with the ninety-nine. A similar impulse, in the other parable of the Prodigal Son, is to observe that the other son was slighted after all of his work and obedience, while his errant brother was feted by the father upon his return.

Our problem as humans is that we tend to see ourselves as members of the flock of ninety-nine. “What is one sheep against so many?” We get proud of our accomplishments, jealous of others receiving favor. Our bigger problem is that God sees us as that Lost Sheep, and the son who departed and sinned – not as we see ourselves.

Heaven rejoices when one sinner is saved, when the Good Shepherd has restored the wayward. Our Heavenly Father arranges a lavish feast when we return. In each case we are not rewarded for straying: we are forgiven when we return.

“Lord, Thou hast here Thy ninety and nine–
Are they not enough for Thee?”
But the Shepherd made answer, “This of Mine
Has wandered away from Me;
And although the road be rough and steep
I go to the desert to find My sheep.”

Jesus not only seeks us out; He persists. For us to be as THAT “one percenter” we should be grateful… and can take assurance. Occupy God’s flock.

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“The Ninety and Nine” was written as a children’s poem by Elizabeth Clephane in 1868. The great hymn-writer Ira D Sankey read it when on a Dwight L Moody crusade in Scotland years later; he tucked it into his vest pocket. That evening Moody preached on “The Good Shepherd,” and asked Sankey, his worship leader, to sing a hymn. Sankey remembered that poem in his pocket, took it out, and sang this song impromptu, forming the music as he went. It is now a standard of the church.

Click: The Ninety and Nine