A poem by William Cowper (1731-1800)
The pulpit, therefore, (and I name it filled with solemn awe,
that bids me well beware with what intent I touch that holy thing;)the pulpit (when the satirist has at last, strutting and vaporing in an empty school,
spent all his force, and made no proselyte;)I say the pulpit (in the sober use of its legitimate, peculiar powers)
must stand acknowledged, while the world shall stand,
the most important and effectual guard, support, and ornament of virtue’s cause.There stands the messenger of truth.
There stands the legate of the skies; his theme divine, his office sacred, his credentials clear.
By him, the violated law speaks out its thunders,
and by him, in strains as sweet as angels use, the gospel whispers peace.He ‘stablishes the strong, restores the weak, reclaims the wanderer, binds the broken heart,
and, armed himself in panoply complete of heavenly temper, furnishes with arms bright as his own,
and trains, by every rule of holy discipline, to glorious war,
the sacramental host of God’s elect.
This on a day when I read another preacher describe Jesus’ words in the Parable of the Talents and those of the prophet Zephaniah as “wretched”. That is a terrifying self-indictment.
It is a curious tension, this wonderful work that I have:
Isaiah 52:7 How delightful it is to see approaching over the mountains the feet of a messenger who announces peace, a messenger who brings good news, who announces deliverance, who says to Zion, “Your God reigns!”
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James 3:1 Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, because you know that we will be judged more strictly.
Cowper:
Jude: