EPHESIANS 3 ...THE LOVE OF GOD

THE LOVE OF GOD

In Ephesians 3, the apostle, Paul gives us a simple and concise explanation of the 'mystery' (verse 9) of the relationship between God and His followers.  He expounds upon what he says in Ephesians
2: 19...that we are 'fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.'   Paul continues in 3:  8 and 9:
         'To me, who am less than the least of all the saints, this gift of the grace of God was given that I should preach among the gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ and make all see what is the fellowship of the mystery which from the beginning of the ages has been hidden in God who created all things, through Jesus Christ.'  So that we, 'being rooted and grounded in love, through God's Holy Spirit, may be able to comprehend with all the saints, the width and depth and length and height...to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.'

Even though the Jewish people were and are God's chosen people, He extended His grace to us from the beginning of time...that we may be 'partakers of the kingdom of God, through Christ.'  Our minds may never, here on earth, be able to take in the 'length and breadth and height' of God's love for us ~ but surely we can understand that this is great and awesome and boundless, the love of God.

---

I am reminded of a hymn, entitled,' The Love of God,' the lyrics to which are as follows:



                              THE LOVE OF GOD
1.The love of God is greater far than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star, and reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care, God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled, and pardoned from his sin.

 

Refrain

O love of God, how rich and pure! How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure the saints’ and angels’ song.

 

2.When years of time shall pass away, and earthly thrones and kingdoms fall,
When men, who here refuse to pray, on rocks and hills and mountains call,
God’s love so sure, shall still endure, all measureless and strong;
Redeeming grace to Adam’s race—the saints’ and angels’ song.

Refrain

 

3.Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill, and every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above, would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole, though stretched from sky to sky.

Refrain

I always felt that the third verse so beautifully describes the extent of the love of God...and yet...it still cannot... completely tell the story of God's love for man.  Words, which I love, fall short of explaining the extent of God's love for us!  But we can glean the essence of that love in
Ephesians 3.



 

 

POST NOTE:

 

"Words: Fred­er­ick M. Leh­man; he wrote this song in 1917 in Pas­a­de­na, Cal­i­fornia, and it was pub­lished in Songs That Are Dif­fer­ent, Vol­ume 2, 1919. The lyr­ics are based on the Jew­ish poem Had­da­mut, writ­ten in Ara­ma­ic in 1050 by Meir Ben Isaac Ne­hor­ai, a can­tor in Worms, Ger­ma­ny; they have been trans­lat­ed in­to at least 18 lang­uages.

One day, dur­ing short in­ter­vals of in­at­ten­tion to our work, we picked up a scrap of pa­per and, seat­ed up­on an emp­ty le­mon box pushed against the wall, with a stub pen­cil, add­ed the (first) two stan­zas and chor­us of the song…Since the lines (3rd stan­za from the Jew­ish po­em) had been found pen­ciled on the wall of a pa­tient’s room in an in­sane asy­lum af­ter he had been car­ried to his grave, the gen­er­al opin­ion was that this in­mate had writ­ten the epic in mo­ments of san­ity.
Frederick M. Lehman, “History of the Song, The Love of God,” 1948

Music: Fred­er­ick Leh­man; ar­ranged by his daugh­ter, Clau­dia L. Mays (MI­DI, score).

In reference to the writer of the third stanza, I have researched the circumstances under which people were admitted to insane asylums during that period of time:


"Many of these patients were epileptic or suffered from other chronic diseases, and had nothing wrong with them mentally at all."        
Georgia's Mental Institution, Central State Hospital, Milledgeville, Ga. by Rhetta Alcumotsu, Yahoo Contributor Network

"If a woman grew too old the husband could have her committed and would take a younger wife. Menopause or PMS was reason enough to ship her off to a facility. Once a woman was committed the asylum, it was as if she died, and usually an obituary was published.

 A landlord could have a tenant committed for not paying rent, being outlandish in behavior or dress. A boss could do the same thing to an employee, if the employee was slow or a 'bad employee'. People could be committed if they were poor. One could be committed for being a alcoholic, person with a short fuse, or anyone who deviated from the normal things society thought was right. This goes for both men and woman and this is very sad indeed to be admitted to an insane asylum for such a thing.
Children who acted out or had mental or physical disabilities were also placed in mental asylums. Imagine a blind child or a child with a speech problem being locked away for his or her entire life because of a birth defect."   Amy Browne Yahoo Contributor Network

 

 

 c 6/2014 Carol A. Castagna 



A Father's Day Tribute

 

DAD WAS A PRACTICAL MAN

 

Dad was a practical man.  I remember that he would carry an umbrella to work every day, just in case it rained, for he had to walk a few blocks from the car to the Bridgeport Brass Company where he spent forty years.  I can’t remember that he ever missed a day of work.  He had been caught in a few downpours of rain and decided that he did not intend to have that happen to him ever again…thus, the umbrella.

My dad suffered from migraine headaches and Major Depression…there were no effective medications for him, unfortunately. As a result, he endured the pain of migraine headaches for most of his life.  My Dad busied himself with his garden, made the backyard (almost an acre) of our home in Nichols, Ct., resemble a park.  He won many medals for his artistic way of gardening.  I recently learned by finding a favorite book of his that he had an interest in the Bonsai Tree, a miniature tree that grows in a small tray:  Vincent and I visited Selby Gardens in Sarasota, Fl. on several occasions where the Bonsai are plentiful. Curiously, I also found a copy of Writer’s Digest dating back to 1979, the year of my divorce from my children’s father.  I am not surprised that my Dad was interested in writing; I just wish I had known so that we could have commiserated, communicated, had fun with words. We had a lot more in common aside from mom’s illness but our common ground was never realized.  I often think about all the conversations we might have had about our interests, things to do and places to see…but  whenever we had an opportunity to talk to each other, we talked about Mom – how to ‘fix’ her and how to deal with our own feelings of helplessness and frustration regarding her behavior.  One place he wanted to see before he died was Banff:  he never traveled there due to mom’s fear that she may not have been able to deal with his cancer while far away from home. 

 

Dad read the Bible early in the morning and sang hymns most of the day. He whistled hymns and played the harmonica and accordion by ear.  I can still hear him singing, if I listen closely enough...He had a distinctive baritone voice that would have highlighted any choir but mom wanted him by her side and he adored her since their high school years, so he never joined the choir. He focused on the Lord and the beauty of the earth and dismissed that which he could not control.  I am sure the Lord has a special place for him in Heaven’s Choir.

Dad worked in the basement of the Bridgeport Brass Company in Bridgeport, a die-maker, a perfectionist at his trade….every day for 40 years.  He worked a second job doing mason work, building fireplaces, walls, stone floors, sidewalks.  He was artistic, multi-talented and worked under poor conditions to support his family.  My father, a man with an extraordinary sense of humor, telling stories to the whole family about his days when he was a young man working on his brother, Lou’s small truck delivering milk, eggs, juice, cream.  In those old days when no one knew the extent to which cholesterol could harm us…we just enjoyed the delectable flavors.

 

We would laugh until our bellies hurt but dad kept on making us roar. My cousins who are far younger than I still recall the milk truck stories ‘Uncle George’ told and the laughter that followed. He was a raconteur at heart; you were on the edge of your seat waiting for the next detail!  Dad was a ‘world-traveler’ said my cousin John, another only child, our mothers having been born sisters.  Dad was an avid reader and traveled to the far corners of the world in his mind as he read.  He would always say, “I have a great imagination.”  This man, with a knack for beautifying everything he touched outdoors, from his rock-garden to his flagstone walk, merely accepted the fact that he worked at the Bridgeport Brass Company in a basement with no windows, cutting dies with precision for a living for forty years – and worked almost incessantly as an artist after work, either sketching, or building stone walks and walls and fireplaces or working in his garden.  (Our family called the landscaped acre in our back yard our Park.)   He would never take credit for any of its beauty though…he would say with humility “I just plant the seeds and God does the rest.”

 

I remember the newspaper covering for his head that he would fold in place, with the same precision he used when measuring a cement walk, when he was working outside on a very hot day.  Dad fastidiously folded each corner to result in a raised oval covering above his ears.  It shaded him from the sun …He would wear it while he was pouring cement in the hot sun, whistling all the while, (usually, Jimmie Crack Corn or Little Jimmie Brown-the Chapel Bells Were Ringing)  enjoying what he was doing, proud of a job well done when he finished his work.  I remember him fondly.

 

CHEERS

A Letter to Dad

 

Here's to you, Dad

To your skills as a builder of houses and dreams

To your craft, etched with precision

To the work of your hands

Through the years of your life

Thank you for building my world.

 

Here's to you, Dad

To your strength of character - to your acceptance of life in the raw

To your readiness to forgive - and your caution in judging

Thank you for the heart you try to conceal,

For letting me see your imperfections ~ thereby making it

Possible for me to embrace my own.

 

Here's to you, Dad

To your love of life and God and people

To your spirit - to your sacrifice - to your sense of humor and the

Raconteur within you - to your quest for knowledge

(My self-taught dad with a genius all his own)

Thank you for pursuing life in spite of its storms that rage

Thank you for teaching me to smile

Your heart is an open book - It teaches humility and hope and Courage

The words speak echoes of truth and of Christ's promise for an Eternity without pain.                           

 

Your loving daughter, Carole

 c 6/2014 Carol A. Castagna

Photos  Carol A. Castagna

Sketch by the late, George Turiano, Author's father

A Prayer

A Prayer  (written in 2006)


"Today, as I journal at Gordon Conwell Theological Seminary, I lift my heart in gratitude to you, Lord, for the opportunity of this dream realized, for the possibility of a hope fulfilled."  ( I am attending a 5 day workshop on Writing Publication.  My daughter, Jill who has an interest in journalism, is with me.  Her new Aunt and Uncle through marriage open their home to us for a night.  Judy is a concert pianist and Ray has graduated from Gordon-Conwell.  I hadn't awakened yet that morning.)

(Upon awakening, I heard the piano:  I felt as though I had awakened in heaven!)

 

Sketch by the late George Turiano, Carol's dad

   "Thank you, Lord, for this music that sweetens my morning. The hymns are so beautiful!  To  awaken to a concerto of hymns played by Your servant with her heart and soul in praise to Thee, is overpowering and brings tears to my eyes.  Thank You for this experience."

"So many people have come to me, through the years, and still do, after I have played the piano in church to say that my music is a blessing to them:  this has always been my prayer ~ that You, Dear Father, would speak to them through my music ....But today, Lord, it happened to me!  To hear these songs of praise played by this woman of God, was a blessing that You created for me!  Judy played 'Amazing Grace' and 'We Shall Behold Him,'  'Over the Sunset Mountains,' 'Beyond the Sunset,' 'He's Coming Soon' and other favorites of mine~"

a glimpse of heaven ~ a taste of heaven's joy that awaits me."


     "to be greeted in the morning with Your song
     to be with Your children
     to be in Your matchless presence now and
     to know the joy of one day seeing You face to face...!"

     "Thank you, dear Lord for these moments with You."

 

 

  Ephesians 2: 13 and 19

  But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been     brought near by the blood of Christ.

 ...Now, therefore, you are no longer strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God.

Thank you, Father,  for Your sacrifice, Your resurrection and for the gift of being called a Child of God.  In Jesus' name ~Amen

 

 

 

  

 c 6/2014 Carol A. Castagna 

A BLESSED EXPERIENCE

                                                  A BLESSED EXPERIENCE 

     It was 7:30 on a Thursday night. The moon was full and all was quiet on my seventh floor, 29-patient psychiatric ward.  I was the Charge Nurse:  I had two psychiatric technicians to assist me.  I was charting at the desk.  “Excuse me.  I’m looking for Mrs. Anna McPhearson.”  I looked up at this gentle-faced, kind woman of about 40 years.  She looked at me in her colorful winter attire and smiled, told me she was Chaplain Irena and remarked surprisingly that the unit was extremely quiet, the most serene she had ever experienced.  She went on to say that she had visited countless hospital wards in the evenings and never had she felt the calm peacefulness of this unit.  Chaplain Irena obviously sensed a spirit of calm and serenity, a spirit of prayer and quiet confidence.  She asked how it was that this quietness and stability can be reached. I told her I was a Christian and I prayed not only for my patients’ well-being but for guidance in caring for them, for organizational skills to meet their needs efficiently and effectively, and for the Holy Spirit’s leading in my deed and my word.  She did not know that the unit was filled with probably the most serious variety of troubled souls that I had ever cared for simultaneously…all in different stages of their diseases. The unit was comprised of alcohol and drug abusers, those who had attempted suicide , the physically compromised and mentally tormented, the psychotic, the wounded and depressed and suicidal and on...and on.

     The night was long and filled with treatments, assessments, monitoring, medications and walking and running, supervising, documenting, and keeping a watchful eye on those in my care.   I often felt as though I could almost inhale the sweet peace of God’s presence while I cared for the sick.  I would come to a point in the evening where I had completed each patient's 'nursing care.  At that point, the Lord was in charge, completely, keeping them safe, watching over them as I charted and prepared for the oncoming staff for the next shift.  Chaplain Irena said that she came to the unit to visit a patient and that she did.  She will never know, however, that the message she carried to me was one of excitement and calm all rolled up into one feeling

     Chaplain Irena and I had shared so much of God’s love and His peace and His promise.  I’ll always remember this lady, a lady who passed through my unit to let me know in her own way that my relationship with the Lord had a distinctive impact not only on her but on my caring for the sick.  It was as though she came to me personally, as a messenger from God. There was a messenger on that cold December night, who spoke kind words of affirmation, with a smile and a sense of understanding, with a calm assurance that she saw something different on my unit that night.  I thank God for the confirmation statement of my mission, my calling, through the sweet Chaplain Irena ~ that the peace of God on that unit was visible to someone else, aside from me and that someone else spoke to me about the palpable presence of that peace.…And I thank my God and my Savior for this blessed experience of His love and of His grace.                                          

 © October, 2012

 Carol A. Castagna
 Library of Congress

                                                    

'I Will Dwell in the Shadow of the Almighty' -

 I WILL DWELL IN THE SHADOW OF THE ALMIGHTY

Psalm 42: 1-2

As the deer pants for the water brooks,
So pants my soul for You, O God.  My soul thirsts for God,
for the living God.


Psalm 91: 1-2
He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the Shadow of the Almighty.  I will say 
of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress...my
God, in whom I trust."


Psalm 42: 8 
The Lord will command His lovingkindness in the daytime. 
And at night His song shall be with me.


Psalm 93: 4 
The Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, than the mighty waves
of the sea. 

Exodus 20: 2  For I am the Lord, your God.

Psalm 104: 1-2- 3
Oh Lord, my God, You are very great:  You are clothed with honor and majesty, Who covers Yourself with light as with a garment...Who makes the clouds His chariot,  Who walks on the wings of the wind.. Psalm 103: 3-4  Who forgives all your iniquities, Who heals all your diseases,
Who redeems your life from destruction, Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies...


             Jeremiah 31: 3                                                                                                The Lord said:
             I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

The Lord comforts us with His Word.  He knows that our soul does not rest until He

inhabits us, that we long for and wait for Him to fill that empty place in our lives.  So He 

welcomes us to find shelter in Him - to find 'rest in the Shadow of the Almighty.'   He promises

His lovingkindness by day and His song by night.  He is our mighty and gracious God in whom

we trust and in whom we rest.  He is our place of refuge.  This is why we love Him.  This is why 

we praise Him.  He has declared Himself our God because He loves us.

Psalm 106: 1
Praise the Lord!  Oh, give thanks to the Lord, for He is good!  For His mercy endures forever.
All Scripture from the Holy Bible, NKJV

carol castagna (c) 6/2/2014

"Carol, You Bring the Sun Out from the Clouds!"

 
      Each time Grandma Rose saw me, she would greet me with a warm hug.  She would often say:  "Carol, you bring the sun out from the clouds!"  We would then hug as though we hadn't seen each other in years.  Actually, on many occasions, it had been earlier that day that the same hugs were exchanged.  We were our very own 'mutual admiration society.'  Grandma's words were lovely to hear and the sincerity in her voice and hugs made me love her more than ever.  Even after her passing, I remembered those moments and the way my life was  blessed and enriched because of her unconditional love.

      The richness of those memories were refreshed recently at the dedication of my husband's great-granddaughter, Scarlett.  Vincent's grandchildren were there at the church to mark the occasion as well as at the luncheon hosted by Scarlett's parents, Kristal and John S.  At some point the conversation recalled the times when the grandchildren were young and each summer, together with their now deceased grandmother, Angela, they went places and did things that enriched their lives ~ Small things like rides on the train, the Long Island ferry, visits to the candy store, the ice cream shop, the pet store were times that left vivid impressions in their minds and I saw the resultant smiles, love and camaraderie and laughter in their voices.  Most of all I noticed the resultant mutual love and respect among all the grandchildren.

                                                                   Photo by Kristal S.


      The one thing that Vincent's and my families shared was our love for the Lord Jesus.  Though we came from different backgrounds, when he and I courted and eventually married, we understood how that love had shaped us and how influential that love was in shaping our families.

The Dedication Service was a tender reminder that the grandchildren remembered the importance of the commitment to teach Scarlett to love the Lord and learn about Jesus and it thrilled us!  The lessons were being passed on to the next generation!

      What a privilege we have as grandparents to pass on lessons learned, love received and relationships formed and molded with the love of Jesus at its core.  We as grandparents hold a special place in our grandchildren s' hearts.  We can 'Bring the Sun Out' when problems and disappointments 'Cloud' their way.  Sometimes, we just need to let the 'Sun Come Out' for no particular reason at all.  Even though it's difficult to set aside our own hardships, and my grandmother, like most of us, had her share of heartaches; yet, she by setting her own sadness aside and greeting me with joyous enthusiasm, gifted me an unforgettable legacy.

                                                              Photo by Kristal S.




carol castagna c 5/2014

Returning to Give Thanks

                                    


      There is an account in the New Testament, found in the book of Matthew 17: 11-17, about the ten lepers in Jerusalem.   One day Jesus was passing by, saw them walking toward Him.  They asked Jesus to heal them and He had compassion on them...He healed them of their physical infirmities of open skin wounds,  deformed limbs and multiple other symptoms.  When the people saw them in their healed state, they were astonished to see lepers appearing so changed!  They were clean and whole!  They were free from the prison of illness, shame and ugliness. People readily associated with them without fear of contagion.  The lepers were pariahs no more.

      One would think that each one would have said, as a matter of gratitude and graciousness:  'Thank you' to the One who made this new life possible.  There was, however, only one leper who returned to say, 'Thank you.' to Jesus Christ, the Great Healer.

        I have often thought that out of 10 lepers, only 1 returned to say he was grateful and to acknowledge the great miracle that had just taken place in his life.  After verbalizing a request for healing and actually receiving the gift of healing, only 1 man, a Samaritan, out of 10 people stepped out to verbalize thanks.  It seems sad and ungrateful and thoughtless of the people ~  but that is the way it happened.


carol a castagna  (c) 5/2014