Inspired today by the witness of John Harper - the ‘bravest man on The Titanic’ - whose last letter just sold at Sotheby’s for an eye-watering £42,000.
John Harper boarded the #Titanic bound for #Chicago having been invited to preach at the city’s Moody Church. His wife had recently died so he was travelling with his sister and six-year-daughter Annie Jessie.
When the #Titanic began to sink, John Harper took off his life jacket and gave it to another man, saying simply, ‘You need it more than I do.’ Others described him preaching the gospel, preparing people for eternity, right to the very end.
Having ensured that his sister and daughter had made it into a lifeboat, Harper remained and soon found himself immersed in the icy water, floating near another drowning man. “Are you saved?” he called.
“No, I’m not saved!” the desperate man replied.
“Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ,” he cried, “and you will be saved!” Moments later Harper disappeared beneath the surface, never to return, but that man was indeed saved. 4 yrs later he testified to his conversion at that moment in a tract entitled “John Harper’s Last Convert”
Annie Jessie (Harper ’s six-year-old daughter) and her aunt arrived safely in New York, rescued by the Carpathia, and only then learned of her father’s heroic death. She went on to be the oldest Scottish Titanic survivor.
Annie’s father’s life had been characterized by two consuming commitments: 1. the urgency of the gospel and 2. a passion for prayer. He would sometimes spend all night interceding.
His brother wrote “My beloved brother was a man mighty in prayer. I’ve been with him when his whole frame shook like an aspen leaf, so earnest was he in his pleadings with God for a perishing world. Little wonder hard hearts were broken, stubborn wills subdued under his ministry”
I am inspired by John Harper to pray more passionately, to preach the gospel more courageously, to sacrifice myself more willingly, and to communicate more lovingly with others, never knowing which letter, which email (which social media post!) will in fact be my last.
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A LORD’S PRAYER FOR JUSTICE ~ by Ronald Rolheiser OMI
———
OUR FATHER… who always stands with the weak, the powerless, the poor, the abandoned, the sick, the aged, the very young, the unborn, and those who, by victim of circumstance, beat the heat of the day.
WHO ART IN HEAVEN... where everything will be reversed, where the first will be last and the last will be first, but where all will be well and every manner of being, will be well.
HALLOWED BE THY NAME… may we always acknowledge your holiness, respecting that your ways are not our ways, your standards are not our standards. May the reverence we give your name pull us out of the selfishness that prevents us from seeing the pain of our neighbor.
You might have noticed that the last couple of months have been full-on for me. In fact, they have been some of the busiest and most challenging of my life. And now I face the greatest challenge of them all - to rest.
I don’t find this particularly easy...
I frequently make the mistake of being lazy about leisure; assuming that rest is merely the absence of work (nothing more than a time to stop and swap busyness for pleasure). But few things deplete the joy of true sabbath more effectively than vacuity.
Most of us run most of our lives like a totalitarian regime. We are dictators of a toxic culture that combines brutal utilitarianism with self-indulgent waste. This is neither a good way to run a country, nor a healthy way to run a happy life.
People who like interior design and dinner parties tend to conclude that they must have been blessed with the gift of #hospitality. But this is not the gift of hospitality. This is the gift of a box of chocolates.
Having (or aspiring to have) a nice house with an underused spare room in which to entertain exotic guests who confirm the loveliness of your home has little to do with the deeply disruptive biblical notion of hospitality which starts in the heart (rather than the Ikea catalogue)
The Greek word for #hospitality, φιλοξενία (filoxenia) literally means ‘friendship to strangers’. It‘s about sacrificial kindness to strangers rather than friends. A hospital for the hurting, a hostel for the homeless, a hosting of those who are unwelcome and unloved elsewhere.
Can I be honest with you? I'm actually not into prayer. I’m into Jesus, so we talk.
I don’t believe in the power of prayer. I believe in the power of God. So I ask for his help. A lot.
I'm not into evangelism. I hate evangelism! I'm into Jesus. So I talk to people about him.
I'm not into social justice. I'm into Jesus. So I find myself picking fights with his enemies.
I'm not into worship - all those soft rock songs, over and over again - I'm into Jesus. So when I see him I smile. I bow. And yes, OK I admit that I sing quite a bit too.
I'm not into church (you seen the state of it?) I'm into Jesus, so I like his people. (They're a little weird, but so am I!)
THE VISION IS JESUS. Not Christianity. Not rules and religion. Not prayer, mission and justice. Not church planting, miracles or mission. Just Jesus.
Today* we pray for mothers
to know love and joy
And for orphans, comfort
For not-yet mothers, hope
For single mothers, grace
And for those who are lonely, family
We pray grace today
For the mothers of prodigals
For those whove lost children
And for those who don't know where their children are
May the embrace of grace displace shame
For mums in prison,
For those who cant feed a baby
For those who miscarried
And those who had an abortion
May those who never held their own child,
For whom today is sadder than it is happy,
Know the joy of parenting sons and daughters
Within the family of God
For ‘as a mother comforts her child,’
says the Lord, ‘so will I comfort you;
and you will be comforted.’
~ Isaiah 66:13
A VALENTINE PRAYER
We pray today for those in love, those out of love, and those in between. We remember especially those who find themselves a little bit lonelier than normal.
We do not pray today for loved-up couples, exchanging overpriced flowers and foil wrapped hearts, leaking pheromones like diesel fumes at candlelit dinners. We are pretty sure, Lord, they will be OK (for now).
Instead, we hereby dedicate this happy-crappy day to all the brave teenagers who dared to send a card (hoping in vain with every fibre of their beings for something back.) Let them be a little bit more OK because we prayed.