Amazed by Grace

I was involved in an amazing project a couple of years ago called The Beat Eucharist.  It expanded my ideas about worship hugely and helped build my confidence to mess around with words at all.  As part of this, we led a celebration of the Beat Eucharist at college where we experimented with Beat Sermon's.  This is mine; Amazed by Grace. (With a good nod to John Newton)

Amazed by grace, yet we confound

By following our TV

We fix our mind on image and sound

And build up our own ‘me’

Frame after frame of worldly pain floods our deepest sense of self.  We gorge ourselves on every aspect that the flat-screened casket spews into the pews of the gathered sofa church.  A nationwide funeral homogeneously pelts out the eulogy of the pre-supposed passing of poor old me. 

We cling to self importance, self worth, self indulgence singing the shallow song of doing it all our way; being the one and only, somehow forgetting the one and only, who gave it all for me.

In our kingdom, we each are king; the greatest and the good.

Pious and proud we each look down and with scornful looks deride.

Yet deep inside, past taught tripwires and bulky barricades lies a mirror – the very heart of our being – the core of our consciousness.  It reflects the very light of heaven, an image of the Almighty.  It puts to flight the fight of those who seek to feed on our need; the carrion picking vultures who vehemently seek to make us think  that our funeral casket is already being carried to our grave.

But if we look deep, deep into the scratched mirror that lies dusty and forgotten in the pit of our despair.  Glancing through grime that time has etched across the once gleaming glass, we expect to inspect the image of the ‘me’ built up so selfishly, but shocked we see not me, but he! Arms flung wide in love for me; he died for me; he lives for me!

We look again, but still we see, the Christ reflected back.  The healing hands held wide, wide open in love.  We wipe the mirror, now wet with tears which tell of torments past.  The dirt gives way so we can see the way, the truth, the life.

Questions of greatness now grieve as we perceive the future path.  We conceive our greater need to breathe the breath of God – to feed on that which freed our stumbling sense of self.  To cut out that which cuts out light to the life that we could lead.

The mirror marks our march of transformation from the shallow selfish me once moulded by me but now, step by stumbling step striving to mirror the Messiah modelled for me by the higher power of the divine maker, creator and author of me, who put the mirror inside of me, breathed life in me and as a Father longs for me.

The Kingdom of Rust filmed in high definition with every passing particle captured in chromatic climactic crowning glory is now eclipsed by my Messiah’s glory.  My heartfelt cry claws at my throat as an urgent utterance desperate to be declared.

Change me Lord, mould me to be who you created me to be.  Let my image, my very self, reflect your image.  Let others see what you want me to be and your Kingdom be brought through me.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now am found

Was blind, but now I see.

Andy Stinson and John Newton