GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW

No comment! Reading in progess...

- shak user (2 years ago)

No comment! Reading in progess...

- shak user (2 years ago)

About the Book


"Not I, but Christ" by Watchman Nee reflects on the Christian journey of dying to self and allowing Christ to live through us. Nee emphasizes the importance of surrendering our own desires and ambitions to God, and allowing His will to be done in our lives. Through personal anecdotes and biblical teachings, Nee encourages readers to seek a deeper intimacy with Christ and to let go of their own self-centeredness. Overall, the book serves as a guide for believers to grow closer to God and live a life that reflects the character of Christ.

John Wesley

John Wesley John Wesley, (born June 17, 1703, Epworth, Lincolnshire, England—died March 2, 1791, London), Anglican clergyman, evangelist, and founder, with his brother Charles, of the Methodist movement in the Church of England. John Wesley was the second son of Samuel, a former Nonconformist (dissenter from the Church of England) and rector at Epworth, and Susanna Wesley. After six years of education at the Charterhouse, London, he entered Christ Church, Oxford University, in 1720. Graduating in 1724, he resolved to become ordained a priest; in 1725 he was made a deacon by the bishop of Oxford and the following year was elected a fellow of Lincoln College. After assisting his father at Epworth and Wroot, he was ordained a priest on September 22, 1728. Recalled to Oxford in October 1729 to fulfill the residential requirements of his fellowship, John joined his brother Charles, Robert Kirkham, and William Morgan in a religious study group that was derisively called the “Methodists” because of their emphasis on methodical study and devotion. Taking over the leadership of the group from Charles, John helped the group to grow in numbers. The “Methodists,” also called the Holy Club, were known for their frequent communion services and for fasting two days a week. From 1730 on, the group added social services to their activities, visiting Oxford prisoners, teaching them to read, paying their debts, and attempting to find employment for them. The Methodists also extended their activities to workhouses and poor people, distributing food, clothes, medicine, and books and also running a school. When the Wesleys left the Holy Club in 1735, the group disintegrated. Following his father’s death in April 1735, John was persuaded by an Oxford friend, John Burton, and Col. James Oglethorpe, governor of the colony of Georgia in North America, to oversee the spiritual lives of the colonists and to missionize the Native Americans as an agent for the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Accompanied by Charles, who was ordained for this mission, John was introduced to some Moravian emigrants who appeared to him to possess the spiritual peace for which he had been searching. The mission to the indigenous peoples proved abortive, nor did Wesley succeed with most of his flock. He served them faithfully, but his stiff high churchmanship antagonized them. He had a naive attachment to Sophia Hopkey, niece of the chief magistrate of Savannah, who married another man, and Wesley unwisely courted criticism by repelling her from Holy Communion. In December 1737 he fled from Georgia; misunderstandings and persecution stemming from the Sophia Hopkey episode forced him to go back to England. In London John met a Moravian, Peter Böhler, who convinced him that what he needed was simply faith, and he also discovered Martin Luther’s commentary on the Letter of Paul to the Galatians, which emphasized the scriptural doctrine of justification by grace through faith alone. On May 24, 1738, in Aldersgate Street, London, during a meeting composed largely of Moravians under the auspices of the Church of England, Wesley’s intellectual conviction was transformed into a personal experience while Luther’s preface to the commentary to the Letter of Paul to the Romans was being read. From this point onward, at the age of 35, Wesley viewed his mission in life as one of proclaiming the good news of salvation by faith, which he did whenever a pulpit was offered him. The congregations of the Church of England, however, soon closed their doors to him because of his enthusiasm. He then went to religious societies, trying to inject new spiritual vigour into them, particularly by introducing “bands” similar to those of the Moravians—i.e., small groups within each society that were confined to members of the same sex and marital status who were prepared to share intimate details of their lives with each other and to receive mutual rebukes. For such groups Wesley drew up Rules of the Band Societies in December 1738. For a year he worked through existing church societies, but resistance to his methods increased. In 1739 George Whitefield, who later became an important preacher of the Great Awakening in Great Britain and North America, persuaded Wesley to go to the unchurched masses. Wesley gathered converts into societies for continuing fellowship and spiritual growth, and he was asked by a London group to become their leader. Soon other such groups were formed in London, Bristol, and elsewhere. To avoid the scandal of unworthy members, Wesley published, in 1743, Rules for the Methodist societies. To promote new societies he became a widely travelled itinerant preacher. Because most ordained clergymen did not favour his approach, Wesley was compelled to seek the services of dedicated laymen, who also became itinerant preachers and helped administer the Methodist societies. Many of Wesley’s preachers had gone to the American colonies, but after the American Revolution most returned to England. Because the bishop of London would not ordain some of his preachers to serve in the United States, Wesley controversially took it upon himself, in 1784, to do so. In the same year he pointed out that his societies operated independently of any control by the Church of England. Toward the end of his life, Wesley became an honoured figure in the British Isles.

to all who feel empty - invitation to the bored and disappointed

It was a small, flesh-colored growth on my cheek. The doctor said it was mild skin cancer and should be removed. But after looking at the biopsy, the hospital’s tumor board recommended a second procedure to remove more skin, to be sure they got it all. That’s when my fear started. What if the cancer has already spread? What if this is more serious than everyone is saying? What if it’s too late? At times like this, it’s tempting to seek comfort in being positive (“It will be okay”), in percentages (“Most of these cancers are nothing”), or in self-pity (“Why is this happening to me?”). But God invites us to a far better comfort: Come, everyone who thirsts,      come to the waters; and he who has no money,      come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk.      without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,      and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,      and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me;      hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,      my steadfast, sure love for David. (Isaiah 55:1–3) This invitation is for everyone who is emotionally thirsty and hungry, longing for peace and joy. It’s for everyone who feels bored, insecure, jealous, frustrated, impatient, disappointed, fearful. Fearful . That described me. So, God’s invitation was  for me . “God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself.” And what does this invitation promise? God promises to satisfy and delight our hearts (Isaiah 55:2) with wine and milk and rich food (Isaiah 55:1). How does he do this? Not by giving us earthly comforts, since at best those give temporary, partial satisfaction. No: God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us  himself . We can see this by comparing the beginning of the passage, where God says, “Come to  the waters ,” with the end, where he says, “Come to  me .” What God gives us is  himself . Sit and Eat The prophet Hosea puts it this way: “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth” (Hosea 6:3). We are dry, parched land, in need of rain. And God promises that when we press on to know him,  he himself  will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence. And he says this promise is as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. So, when we are emotionally hungry and thirsty, it’s like God is inviting us to a banquet table piled high with sizzling chicken fajitas and hot, cheesy lasagna and apple pie à la mode and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and water and wine and milk. All we need to do is come, sit down, and eat. But if that’s true, then why are we ever emotionally hungry and thirsty? Why do we get bored, or jealous, or bitter, or insecure? And why was I feeling such fear? Why Such Fear? We often blame our circumstances. We think we lack joy and peace because we didn’t get the promotion, or because our children aren’t behaving, or because we’re stuck in traffic, or in my case, because I have skin cancer. But God says there’s a deeper reason. It’s that we’ve ignored his invitation, and taken our hunger to what is not bread (Isaiah 55:2). We’ve turned from God’s table to the world’s table, which at best has an occasional rotten, mushy banana, a day-old bowl of half-eaten oatmeal, or a glass of murky water. That’s why I was fearful. I was ignoring God’s table, with its unshakable promises of everlasting joy, and was trusting the world’s table, whose promises were being threatened by skin cancer. And that’s why we are: Bored:  We are ignoring God’s table and looking for something exciting at the world’s table. But nothing looks promising. Grumpy:  We were hoping something on the world’s table would satisfy us, but when we sat down, it ended up being a dry, half-eaten cracker. Disappointed:  We’ve been trusting that something on the world’s table will satisfy us, but either it was taken away, or it didn’t end up being what we hoped for. Jealous:  We’re sitting at the world’s table but are not satisfied with what we’ve been served, and we think that what someone else was served would make us happier. Whenever we feel emotional hunger and thirst, we do well to ask if we’ve moved from God’s guaranteed, all-satisfying table to the world’s uncertain, disappointing table. Buy Without Money But turning from God’s table not only leaves us hungry and thirsty. It also makes us guilty before God, because eating from the world’s table is sin. And sin requires a payment of punishment, which is why God says his food must be bought (Isaiah 55:1). But God also says that we have no money (Isaiah 55:1), because we can’t make up for our sin by being good enough. “When we press on to know God, he himself will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence.” So, if we are going to enjoy God’s table, someone else must make the payment. And two chapters earlier we read that this is what the Messiah would do: “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). Though we have no money, we can buy this food by trusting Jesus, who pays the penalty of our punishment by dying on the cross. God has given us the invitation, and he has paid the price. So, how do we get up from the world’s table and enjoy God’s table? Come to the Table Here are the steps God used to help me. First, I confessed my sin to God — that I had turned from his table to the world’s table, and I was fearful because the world’s promise of earthly comforts and long life was threatened by my skin cancer (1 John 1:9). Second, I admitted to God that I could not pay for my sins, and I thanked and praised him that Jesus fully paid for them on the cross (1 Peter 3:18). Third, I asked God to help me taste and experience how superior his banquet is to the world’s table (Psalm 43:3–4). Fourth, I set my heart on a few Scriptures that describe God’s banquet (John 8:31–32): Pleasure in him now and forever (Psalm 16:11). Joy unspeakable and full of glory (1 Peter 1:8). Life in Christ now, and gain when I die (Philippians 1:21). A heavenly, eternal dwelling made by God himself (2 Corinthians 5:1–4). Fifth, I prayed over these Scriptures, asking God to help me feel their reality and glory, until I experienced the Spirit changing and satisfying my heart (John 6:35). And that’s what he did. Over the next twenty minutes, I felt my faith strengthen and my fear disappear, as God used his word to give me a taste of his all-satisfying glory, which nothing, not even death, can threaten. Are you sitting at the world’s table, hungry and disappointed? If so, God is inviting you to his piled-high banquet table. He’s paid for the ticket, and is holding a seat for you.  Enjoy the feast.

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x