August 2, 2012

I’m beginning to understand why the man from Gadara dwelt among the tombs.  After work today, I needed to run an errand that took me by the cemetery where Mom and Dad are buried. We opted for traditional burials, because when making the choice the mausoleum reminded me too much of a filing cabinet.  There was a purpose to my visit … I wanted to be sure the marker was done to my satisfaction.  The aura of graveyard is hopelessness … that must have been why the man spent his life among the tombs … until Jesus came.  The cool thing about where my parents are buried is that there is a huge cross …. They are essentially resting in the shadow of the cross until the trumpet sounds and we are once again reunited to be with our Savior. Our Moravian brethren have sought to redeem the idea of death and the grave by calling their graveyards “God’s Acre.”   Over many Moravian cemeteries are arches with the inscription “Till the day breaks and the shadows flee away” Song of Solomon 2:17.  I’ve often remarked that I’m thankful that I was reared in the Christian and Missionary Alliance … I learned to love Missions and developed a passion for God’s work worldwide in that small denomination. I’m glad I spent my adult years in Baptist ("with a lower case b") circles, it was there I developed the theology to solidify my assurance of salvation and develop my own walk with God.  For some crazy reason I want to die a Moravian …because they seem to die with the praises of Jesus on their lips.

 Here is one of the standard Moravian Hymns:

Jesus, Thy blood and righteousness
my beauty are, my glorious dress;
'Midst flaming worlds, in these arrayed,
with joy shall I lift up my head.

Bold shall I stand in Thy great day,
For who ought to my charge shall lay?
Fully absolved through these I am,
From sin and fear, from guilt and shame.

Lord, I believe Thy precious blood,
Which, at the mercy seat of God,
Forever doth for sinners plead,
For me, e'en for my soul, was shed.

When from the dust of death I rise
To claim my mansion in the skies,
E'en then shall this be all my plea,
Jesus hath lived, hath died for me!

O let the dead now hear Thy voice!
Now bid Thy ransomed ones rejoice!
Their beauty this, their glorious dress,
Jesus, the Lord our Righteousness.

By: Count  Nicolaus Ludwig von Zinzendorf

Trans: John Wesley