An old classic by a Christian singer/songwriter that is one of my favorites. This expresses my own heart toward worship, and reminds me of a ‘first-love.’
Bob has many more wonderful songs. I can recommend him, that is if you like this kind of stuff. I discovered the lyrics, after an intense search, but I hope you like this at least.
In the middle of this madness I am dancing
Though I’m not sure why just now I tried to be sober, tried to be logical
But I could not stop my feet I know I have not turned off my mind
I know there’s evil all around me But for now, it’s outside
And I am in my room And joy is like a crashing tide I don’t wanna burn no books
Don’t wanna argue rock n’ roll I don’t wanna shoot anyone
With my high-powered doctrine gun
Let the madness roll on like a hungry beast
No one will miss me (No one will miss me)
For a half-an-hour at least A song came this morning and woke me
And as I listened, then I found That I was not alone
I was standing, moving Dancing, dancing On holy ground
I don’t wanna burn no books Don’t wanna argue rock n’ roll
I don’t wanna shoot anyone With my high-powered doctrine gun
Let the madness roll on like a savage beast
No one will miss me No one will miss me No one will miss me
By Mark Earley, Christian Post Guest Columnist, Wed, Aug. 08, 2007
The least of these is my brother
In the 16th century, London’s mentally ill were often kept at Bethlem Royal Hospital. The conditions inside the hospital were notoriously poor. Patients were often chained to the floor and the noise was so great that Bethlem was more likely to drive a man crazy than to cure him. The conditions were so infamous that the nickname locals gave the hospital—Bedlam—has come to mean any scene of great confusion.
Unfortunately five hundred years later, we’re still treating the mentally ill more like prisoners than patients. Fifty years ago, more than 550 thousand people were institutionalized in public mental hospitals. Today, only between 60 and 70 thousand are, despite a two-thirds increase in the country’s population.
Since there’s no evidence that the incidence of mental illness has dropped precipitously, the mentally ill who previously had been institutionalized had to have gone somewhere. While some are being treated successfully in their communities, at homes and groups homes, but for many that “somewhere” is behind bars. This last part shouldn’t come as a surprise.
Five years ago, the Washington Post told the story of “Leon,” a one-time honor student, who had 17 years in and out of jail on various drug-related charges. It was only after several suicide attempts, including drinking a “bleach-and-Ajax cocktail,” that Leon was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Leon’s story was a microcosm of a larger problem: “Prisons and jails are increasingly substituting as mental hospitals.”
As one advocate for the mentally ill told the Post, “a lot of people with mental illness are charged with minor crimes as a way to get them off the streets.” In effect, they are behind bars for “being sick.” Fast forward five years and little, if anything, has changed. A few weeks ago, another piece in the Post discussed the same problem.
Psychiatrist Marcia Kraft Goin told readers something that should shock and outrage them: “The Los Angeles County Jail houses the largest psychiatric population in the country.” As with the earlier Post piece, the conclusion was inescapable: “People with [untreated] mental illnesses often end up with symptoms and behaviors that result in jail time.” You don’t have to be a “bleeding heart” to understand that this is an injustice—any kind of heart will do.
Not only are the mentally ill not getting the help they need, they are as lambs to the slaughter in our crowded and violent prisons. They are being victimized twice over. They’re not the only ones being victimized.
At a time when most state prisons are unlawfully overcrowded, there are better uses for prison beds than as makeshift mental hospitals. As Goin wrote, “treating” mental illness as a criminal justice problem costs “more than treating patients appropriately in their community.”
As part of its ministry to prisoners and their families, Prison Fellowship supports community-based alternatives to incarceration. Not only because it makes “financial sense” but because it’s what Christ would have done. In Matthew 25 he called the ill and the prisoner his “brothers” and he expects us to offer them something more than bedlam.
“There but for the Grace of God go I…”–Bryan
__________________________________
From BreakPoint®, August 6, 2007, Copyright 2007, Prison Fellowship Ministries. Reprinted with the permission of Prison Fellowship Ministries. All rights reserved. “BreakPoint®” and “Prison Fellowship Ministries®” are registered trademarks of Prison Fellowship.
Prayer often can be just a nice religious duty, that makes us feel warm and fuzzy. But such prayer the does not suit a disciple who is tired of religion, and is seeking authenticity. There are few models who can be our guides.
That one of the reasons why we need elders in our fellowships; they have been through so much, they can anchor us to all that is real. As elderd they probably had lessons in prayer.
We often will theologically play on the periphery, and cleverly deceive others and ourselves. My own heart gets pretty creative as I display a self-righteousness. (I should win an Academy Award as ‘best actor.’) But Jesus insists on us becoming real. You might say that real is the prayer that touches his heart.
When you talk with Jesus, do you really talk to Him? Do you have a real awareness that you are really talking with Him?
Is it the real you that fellowships with the ‘real’ God?
________________________________
The following is an excerpt from A Diary of Private Prayer, by the Scottish theologian, John Baillie, 1886-1960:
Eternal Father of my soul, let my first thought today be of You, let my first impulse be to worship You, let my first speech be Your name, let my first action be to kneel before You in prayer.
For Your perfect wisdom and perfect goodness:
For the love with which You love mankind:
For the love with which You love me:
For the great and mysterious opportunity of my life:
For the indwelling of your Spirit in my heart:
For the sevenfold gifts of your Spirit:
I praise and worship You, O Lord.
Yet let me not, when this morning prayer is said, think my worship ended and spend the day in forgetfulness of You. Rather from these moments of quietness let light go forth, and joy, and power, that will remain with me through all the hours of the day;
Keeping me chaste in thought:
Keeping me temperate and truthful in speech:
Keeping me faithful and diligent in my work:
Keeping me humble in my estimation of myself:
Keeping me honorable and generous in my dealings with others:
Keeping me loyal to every hallowed memory of the past:
Keeping me mindful of my eternal destiny as a child of Yours.
“The heart is but a small vessel; and yet dragons and lions are there, and there poisonous creatures and all the treasures of wickedness; rough, uneven paths are there, and gaping chasms. There likewise is God, there are the angels, the heavenly cities and the treasures of grace; all things are there.”
~St. Macarius
OK, I admit it. I am fully capable and fully able to do just about any sin or deceit. It’s my dubious claim to fame. I can easily think of a 1000 things that I could do rather than serving God. It seems my name is ‘Legion.’ To add to this, I have a chorus of support that wants me to give up my faith. Demons are really plotting to destroy me, while all along my flesh insists on being fed with ‘fresh sin’. (And I wonder why I’m getting gray hair.)
Within each of us is the potential and capability of doing great evil. Each of us is contested ground, with eternal decisions hanging in the balance.
My mental illness does not give me “a get-out-of-jail-free card.” I am just as responsible as anyone else when it comes to choosing good vs. evil. Somehow I’d like to think that since I am deeply flawed because of my depression, it can actually make it somewhat easier to admit the truth. Maybe? (Perhaps that’s about the only edge I get.)
In Greek mythology there were three beautiful, but dangerous bird-women called “Sirens.” With their music and voice they seduced sailors to shipwreck on the rocks. It was said that there was few or any could resist them. Since they had to be neutralized somehow; some would plug their ears with beeswax, while others tied themselves to the mast.
The Bible has promised us the Holy Spirit. The very presence of God has reached out His hand to hold me against the onslaught of evil forces. He truly does hold me in place, and His Word gives me the things I need to defend myself. Yes, the darkness can be very strong–but is no match to what God can do for me. We live in a very difficult age.
The intensity of seduction has increased. Tying yourself to something is probably a good idea.
“Keep yourself pure.”
1 Timothy 5:22
When the voices begin to lure you, you had best be ready with a plan. The spiritual mast we have before us is the person of Jesus Christ. Call on Him and then tether yourself to His mast (the cross.) He has all power and all love for you. You can resist the darkness, you can!
Broken Believers 