I Will Follow Christ
Bob Carlisle, Clay Crosse, Bebe Winans
The twelve of you walked on the earth together
The father was a brother to you all
The teaching that you heard was the Living Word
The wonders and the miracles you saw
There were times of awesome inspiration
There were times you didn't understand
And when He had to go and you felt alone
It must have been so hard to see His plan
I think about the way you carried on
In the face of persecution you stood strong...
I will follow Christ
I will run the race
Fighting the good fight
Standing on my faith
I will wear the name of Jesus
I will give Him all my life
As for me no matter what the sacrifice
I will follow Christ
Now I don't have to look across the ages
His voice is speaking in my heart today
His Word is like a flame consuming all my shame
His life a shining star to show the way
I will follow Christ
I will run the race
Fighting the good fight
Standing on my faith
I will wear the name of Jesus
I will give Him all my life
As for me no matter what the sacrifice
I will follow Christ
I behold Your life and see the man You want me to become
Living like someone whose heart belongs to the Kingdom
That was sealed on Calvary
I will show the world what I believe
I will follow Christ
I will run the race
Fighting the good fight
Standing on my faith
I will wear the name of Jesus
I will give Him all my life
As for me no matter what the sacrifice
I will follow Christ
Only for the Weak
Avalon
Some say it's rules and regulations
And trying to always be right
No room for mistakes in the choices we make
For only the strong survive
But it's not about perfect performance
Or resolution of will
It's all about surrender
Giving up
Being still
It's only for the weak
For the faint of heart
Those driven to their knees
Those who live with scars
There's power from beyond
Were certain where it's from
And that's our source of strength
Before we follow Christ
We need to be advised
It's only for the weak
He welcomes the worn and weary
All who are wounded by sin
And just as we are, we can fall in His arms
Rest and find shelter in Him
Seems like each day is a battle
With burdens and struggles to face
Only in our losing
De we really see how much we've gained
It's only for the weak
For the faint of heart
Those driven to their knees
Those who live with scars
There's power from beyond
Were certain where it's from
And that's our source of strength
Before we follow Christ
We need to be advised
It's only for the weak
The Father always starts
With a willing heart
Open to how He moves
As His Spirit is poured
He will do so much more
Than we dreamed He could do
It's only for the weak
For the faint of heart
Those driven to their knees
Those who live with scars
There's power from beyond
Were certain where it's from
And that's our source of strength
Before we follow Christ
We need to be advised
It's only for the weak
Monday, August 29, 2011
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Crossing Over
I'm reading this book called Crossing Over: A Mexican Family on the Migrant Trail. In the prologue the author explains the story of the Chávez brothers. I was stunned after I read this and I wanted to share it:
It is five o'clock in the morning on Saturday, April 6, 1996. Two weeks before Easter, two more weeks of Lent before the Passion. The sun will soon break over the Temecula valley. The moon is a little less than half full, dipping low into the southwestern sky. The stars have dimmed with the approach of the sun. Only the planet Jupiter is visible, and it is just about to fall into the leaves of a stand of avocados on the south side of Avenida Del Oro. It is a clear and dry morning, and although it is early spring, the temperature is already seventy degrees; it will reach into the nineties at midday.
Avenida Del Oro (in California) is an east-west rural two-lane road of pitch-black asphalt and a bright solid yellow dividing line that runs for several hundred feet across the intersection with Calle Capistrano. Here, Avenida Del Oro falls into a steep gully along a long, sharp curve, the kind that creeps up on you and causes you to instinctively hit the brakes as you come to the bend. Calle Capistrano is a smaller road that runs north toward a few residences and orchards. The point at which the two streets join is precisely the bend in Avenida Del Oro's curve.
Deck lights glow amber from a ranch house high up on a hill to the east. There is no breeze. Occasionally there is the sound of an avocado falling, at first slithering through the branches, then hitting the thick bed of dry dead leaves below with a loud, brittle crash.
At five-fifteen the eastern sky is pale yellow. Shades of dusty pink rise into blue-greens and finally into deep blue at the zenith and in the west. A 1989 GMC truck, blue with silver trim, equipped with a camper shell of darkly tinted windows, speeds westward down Avenida Del Oro. Twenty-seven people are inside, twenty-five of them in the camper and two in the front seat. All are undocumented Mexican migrants.
The reason the coyote (A person who smuggles Latin Americans across the US border, typically for a high fee) is on this isolated rural road is the inauguration of the U.S. Border Patrol interdiction effort known as Operation Gatekeeper. In 1994, a massive new steel wall was built along several miles of the border running east from the beach at Tijuana. After the Border Patrol claimed success with Operation Gatekeeper, it followed with similar measures in Nogales, Arizona (Operation Safeguard), El Paso, Texas (Operation Hold the Line), and McAllen, Texas (Operation Rio Grande). Consequently, the Mexican coyotes, not to be outdone by gringo technology, have chosen more circuitous routes through rugged terrain eastward. These new routes are extremely dangerous. Dozens of migrants have died of exposure in the torrid heat and bitter cold of the Colorado Desert since 1994. There are hundreds of such crossings between the beaches of Southern California and the Gulf Coast of Texas, and the cat-and-mouse game between the coyotes and the Border Patrol is never-ending.
A Border Patrol truck spots the GMC several miles south of the intersection of Avenida Del Oro and Calle Capistrano. What the BP agents see is a vehicle clearly overloaded, its fenders practically scraping the tires. From this point on, there are differing versions as to what occurred. The BP maintains that their personnel followed the vehicle at a discreet distance, with its emergency lights off. Lawyers representing the victims say that the BP wrecklessly and needlessly endangered the lives of the migrants by engaging in a high-speed pursuit.
For most of the hour-long ride up from the border, Benjamín, Jaime, and Salvador Chávez and their compatriots in the camper shell see nothing, not even one another's faces, because very little of the approaching dawn's light penetrates the camper's tinted windows.
When the coyote notices the BP truck in his side mirrors (he couldn't have seen much in the rearview mirror, given the dark glass and the twenty-five bodies piled like a cord of wood in the back), he speeds up, the tires screeching on the curves.
Inside the camper, panic rules. Those closest to the small window that looks in on the cab of the truck pound on it and scream at the coyote to stop. Several survivors recall that Benjamín Chávez shouted the loudest, a deep-throated yell. But it is to no avail. The coyote has been drinking. He has been snorting coke. He is hunched over the steering wheel, oblivious to everything but the BP truck behind him and the dark, winding road ahead.
Increasingly desperate, the migrants pop the camper's rear window open. They throw their small travel bags, their water bottles, and even a tire jack in the direction of the BP vehicle, but these fall harmlessly by the side of the road. They make dramatic hand gestures at the agents, imploring them to give up the pursuit, not because they want to avoid apprehension but because they want their driver to slow down. They are in fear for their lives.
The Chávez brothers, crunched against one another in the truck bed, see very little even when the rear window is opened. They are deep inside the camper, hemmed in by twenty-three other bodies. They only feel the lurching of the truck and hear the men's groans as they are slammed about on the curves.
The GMC hurtles down Avenida Del Oro at close to seventy miles an hour. About three hundred feet from Calle Capistrano, the coyote realizes he can't negotiate the curve and slams on his brakes. The realization comes too late.
There is along skid, and the truck spins 180 degrees.
Then there is silence for a split second, as the truck flies off the road and turns over in the air.
And now a thousand sounds at once: the crumpling, the breaking, the crushing, and the snapping of glass, metal, plastic, and bone. The truck comes down roof-first in the ditch. Most of the bodies inside the camper shell spill out. Not all are completely ejected. Several are crushed underneath the mangeled chassis of the truck. A cloud of dust rises from the impact.
The sun crests the horizon in the east now. It is possible that one of the last things some of the migrants saw, for just a fraction of a second, was the yellow glow on the horizon. Or maybe some of them saw the dust from the crash hanging in the air and heard the silence of the desert return as the groans of the dying faded.
Benjamín, Jaime, and Salvador were crushed under the truck. They had departed their home in Cherán, an Indian town in the highlands of Michoacán, a few days earlier and were on their way to Watsonville, California, to their usual stint of seasonal work picking strawberries in the fertile hills east of Santa Cruz. The accident made headlines in the United States for the enormity of the tragedy (eight people killed, nineteen inured, many critically) and because just a few days earlier another incident involving Mexican migrants had attracted attention. A videotape reminiscent of the Rodney King footage had aired on the evening news showing Riverside sheriff's deputies beating unarmed Mexican migrants, none of them visibly resisting, by the side of a Southern California freeway at rush hour.
Over the last decade, the numbers of casualties at the U.S.-Mexico line have begun to look like the tallies from a low-intensity conflict in a corner of the developing world. A University of Houston study counted some three thousand deaths in the last half of the 1990s, a conservative figure. Many bodies, the researchers concluded, will never be found. The bones of these migrants are hidden in the sludge at the bottom of the Rio Grande and scattered across the open desert.
It is five o'clock in the morning on Saturday, April 6, 1996. Two weeks before Easter, two more weeks of Lent before the Passion. The sun will soon break over the Temecula valley. The moon is a little less than half full, dipping low into the southwestern sky. The stars have dimmed with the approach of the sun. Only the planet Jupiter is visible, and it is just about to fall into the leaves of a stand of avocados on the south side of Avenida Del Oro. It is a clear and dry morning, and although it is early spring, the temperature is already seventy degrees; it will reach into the nineties at midday.
Avenida Del Oro (in California) is an east-west rural two-lane road of pitch-black asphalt and a bright solid yellow dividing line that runs for several hundred feet across the intersection with Calle Capistrano. Here, Avenida Del Oro falls into a steep gully along a long, sharp curve, the kind that creeps up on you and causes you to instinctively hit the brakes as you come to the bend. Calle Capistrano is a smaller road that runs north toward a few residences and orchards. The point at which the two streets join is precisely the bend in Avenida Del Oro's curve.
Deck lights glow amber from a ranch house high up on a hill to the east. There is no breeze. Occasionally there is the sound of an avocado falling, at first slithering through the branches, then hitting the thick bed of dry dead leaves below with a loud, brittle crash.
At five-fifteen the eastern sky is pale yellow. Shades of dusty pink rise into blue-greens and finally into deep blue at the zenith and in the west. A 1989 GMC truck, blue with silver trim, equipped with a camper shell of darkly tinted windows, speeds westward down Avenida Del Oro. Twenty-seven people are inside, twenty-five of them in the camper and two in the front seat. All are undocumented Mexican migrants.
The reason the coyote (A person who smuggles Latin Americans across the US border, typically for a high fee) is on this isolated rural road is the inauguration of the U.S. Border Patrol interdiction effort known as Operation Gatekeeper. In 1994, a massive new steel wall was built along several miles of the border running east from the beach at Tijuana. After the Border Patrol claimed success with Operation Gatekeeper, it followed with similar measures in Nogales, Arizona (Operation Safeguard), El Paso, Texas (Operation Hold the Line), and McAllen, Texas (Operation Rio Grande). Consequently, the Mexican coyotes, not to be outdone by gringo technology, have chosen more circuitous routes through rugged terrain eastward. These new routes are extremely dangerous. Dozens of migrants have died of exposure in the torrid heat and bitter cold of the Colorado Desert since 1994. There are hundreds of such crossings between the beaches of Southern California and the Gulf Coast of Texas, and the cat-and-mouse game between the coyotes and the Border Patrol is never-ending.
A Border Patrol truck spots the GMC several miles south of the intersection of Avenida Del Oro and Calle Capistrano. What the BP agents see is a vehicle clearly overloaded, its fenders practically scraping the tires. From this point on, there are differing versions as to what occurred. The BP maintains that their personnel followed the vehicle at a discreet distance, with its emergency lights off. Lawyers representing the victims say that the BP wrecklessly and needlessly endangered the lives of the migrants by engaging in a high-speed pursuit.
For most of the hour-long ride up from the border, Benjamín, Jaime, and Salvador Chávez and their compatriots in the camper shell see nothing, not even one another's faces, because very little of the approaching dawn's light penetrates the camper's tinted windows.
When the coyote notices the BP truck in his side mirrors (he couldn't have seen much in the rearview mirror, given the dark glass and the twenty-five bodies piled like a cord of wood in the back), he speeds up, the tires screeching on the curves.
Inside the camper, panic rules. Those closest to the small window that looks in on the cab of the truck pound on it and scream at the coyote to stop. Several survivors recall that Benjamín Chávez shouted the loudest, a deep-throated yell. But it is to no avail. The coyote has been drinking. He has been snorting coke. He is hunched over the steering wheel, oblivious to everything but the BP truck behind him and the dark, winding road ahead.
Increasingly desperate, the migrants pop the camper's rear window open. They throw their small travel bags, their water bottles, and even a tire jack in the direction of the BP vehicle, but these fall harmlessly by the side of the road. They make dramatic hand gestures at the agents, imploring them to give up the pursuit, not because they want to avoid apprehension but because they want their driver to slow down. They are in fear for their lives.
The Chávez brothers, crunched against one another in the truck bed, see very little even when the rear window is opened. They are deep inside the camper, hemmed in by twenty-three other bodies. They only feel the lurching of the truck and hear the men's groans as they are slammed about on the curves.
The GMC hurtles down Avenida Del Oro at close to seventy miles an hour. About three hundred feet from Calle Capistrano, the coyote realizes he can't negotiate the curve and slams on his brakes. The realization comes too late.
There is along skid, and the truck spins 180 degrees.
Then there is silence for a split second, as the truck flies off the road and turns over in the air.
And now a thousand sounds at once: the crumpling, the breaking, the crushing, and the snapping of glass, metal, plastic, and bone. The truck comes down roof-first in the ditch. Most of the bodies inside the camper shell spill out. Not all are completely ejected. Several are crushed underneath the mangeled chassis of the truck. A cloud of dust rises from the impact.
The sun crests the horizon in the east now. It is possible that one of the last things some of the migrants saw, for just a fraction of a second, was the yellow glow on the horizon. Or maybe some of them saw the dust from the crash hanging in the air and heard the silence of the desert return as the groans of the dying faded.
Benjamín, Jaime, and Salvador were crushed under the truck. They had departed their home in Cherán, an Indian town in the highlands of Michoacán, a few days earlier and were on their way to Watsonville, California, to their usual stint of seasonal work picking strawberries in the fertile hills east of Santa Cruz. The accident made headlines in the United States for the enormity of the tragedy (eight people killed, nineteen inured, many critically) and because just a few days earlier another incident involving Mexican migrants had attracted attention. A videotape reminiscent of the Rodney King footage had aired on the evening news showing Riverside sheriff's deputies beating unarmed Mexican migrants, none of them visibly resisting, by the side of a Southern California freeway at rush hour.
Over the last decade, the numbers of casualties at the U.S.-Mexico line have begun to look like the tallies from a low-intensity conflict in a corner of the developing world. A University of Houston study counted some three thousand deaths in the last half of the 1990s, a conservative figure. Many bodies, the researchers concluded, will never be found. The bones of these migrants are hidden in the sludge at the bottom of the Rio Grande and scattered across the open desert.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Racing a Mile a Minute
I have all these thoughts racing through my mind a mile a minute. I can't even begin to try to process each one because there are so many thoughts. And each thought is so complex and leads to another thought...I have so much to do and no time to get it all done. Because of how busy I am right now, I very rarely have time to just sit and process all that's running through my mind. The only real downtime I have is when I sleep. And that's exactly what my mind has been doing for the past two weeks. I have only gotten a few decent nights' sleep since I got home from Peru. Every other night I toss and turn all night as my mind tries to make sense of everything. If I do sleep through the nigh, the following day I'm disturbed, troubled, or confused about the dream I had. I can't seem to shake this. I'll go to bed by 11:00 and get up at 7:00 and I feel as if I'm running off of half that much sleep. I'm used to not being tired at night or getting little sleep, but this isn't the same. It's a completely restless night. It's hard then when I do get some down time to think. I'll feel so dead I end up sitting there feeling bombarded by all these thoughts. It's not only trying to process all I did in Peru. It's my classes, work, moving back to school, my future, and figuring out what God's plan is for my life. They all mesh together and many overlap and fall on each other. I find my escape in writing. But this is so big I can't even begin to start writing about all of it. So I feel trapped inside my own head with no easy way of escaping. Only once in the past two weeks has my mind been completely blank and I've felt relaxed. That was at Beverly's. As we were trying to talk though an issue, I didnt' know how to verbalize my thoughts. She tried a technique that allows my brain to sort and organize my thoughts (or something like that). I'm not sure exactly how it works. But for a moment, my mind was blank and I could relax. Before long, only one thought came to mind and that one single thought remained for about twenty minutes. When I left Beverly's and headed home, all my thoughts flooded back in.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Peru Recap
Just about a week ago I returned from my ten day mission trip to Callao, Peru. 203 people from Grace Church partnered with hundreds more from our sister church in Callao, the port city of Lima (the capital of Peru), working "hombro a hombro" or "shoulder to shoulder" telling people about Jesus.
Each day we went out into the streets, parks, hospitals, and barrios to share the love of Jesus with others. Our goal was not humanitarian, but evangelistic. Every night we held a larger scale performance or two at the church, which can hold up to 2,000 people. At each venue we would put on a mini performance of songs, puppets, clowns, dramas, illusions, and unicycles to catch people with their eyes, so they'll listen with their ears, so God can touch their hearts. After the performance, a pastor would share the gospel. He explained that God sent His son Jesus to earth to die on a cross for all of our sins so we can be forgiven and spend eternity with Him in heaven.
We would stress to the Peruvians that we are not "selling a religion," but offering them a free gift of salvation and a loving relationship with Jesus. The hunger for truth and love that these people had moved me every time. I had the opportunity to share with many people, each with a unique story. Katty and her four month old baby living in a very poor neighborhood, Juan, a 60-year-old homeless man, Fanny and her one month old baby in the hospital...
This was my second time in Peru for a mission trip and God worked in and through me in ways I never could have imagined. The highlight of my week was getting to know a man named José. A group of ten people, both Americans and Peruvians were going door to door when we met José on the street. After talking with him for only a minute or two, he invited us into his home. We learned he is a body guard and has recently killed three people as a result of his job. He told us he was not going to heaven and God could not forgive him for what he had done. Every night he would wake up sweating and seeing the faces of the men he had killed. After talking with him for over half an hour, explaining just how much God loves him and can forgive him, José agreed to let us pray for him. We gathered around him and we each laid a hand on him and began praying simultaneously for him. I could feel such a burden on his shoulders and a deep sorrow. I could see the pain in his eyes and the longing to be freed. My prayer was that God would open his eyes and soften his heart to God and that Satan's grip on his life would be released. And just that happened. While we were praying for him, José broke down and cried out to God for forgiveness and gave his life over to God. After praying with him, I could see peace in his eyes. He was exhausted from the experience, and his whole countenance changed. God did an amazing work in his life in those short 45 minutes. We were all crying by the end of our time together.
Over the course of the week, we saw over 3,250 people come to saving personal relationship with Jesus. This could not have been done on our own. With God's help, we were able to accomplish great things to bring Him glory. I feel very blessed to have had the opportunity to once again go to Peru to share the love of Jesus with the Peruvians.
While I was there, I was able to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. The relationships I've built over the past three years with some people really make them feel like brothers and sisters to me. And I look forward to continuing those relationships and building those that were started during my short visit. I had such a great time with my friends and will have many great memories I can always look back on.
 |
| Seeing my brother and sister for the first time in three years |
Each day we went out into the streets, parks, hospitals, and barrios to share the love of Jesus with others. Our goal was not humanitarian, but evangelistic. Every night we held a larger scale performance or two at the church, which can hold up to 2,000 people. At each venue we would put on a mini performance of songs, puppets, clowns, dramas, illusions, and unicycles to catch people with their eyes, so they'll listen with their ears, so God can touch their hearts. After the performance, a pastor would share the gospel. He explained that God sent His son Jesus to earth to die on a cross for all of our sins so we can be forgiven and spend eternity with Him in heaven.
We would stress to the Peruvians that we are not "selling a religion," but offering them a free gift of salvation and a loving relationship with Jesus. The hunger for truth and love that these people had moved me every time. I had the opportunity to share with many people, each with a unique story. Katty and her four month old baby living in a very poor neighborhood, Juan, a 60-year-old homeless man, Fanny and her one month old baby in the hospital...
This was my second time in Peru for a mission trip and God worked in and through me in ways I never could have imagined. The highlight of my week was getting to know a man named José. A group of ten people, both Americans and Peruvians were going door to door when we met José on the street. After talking with him for only a minute or two, he invited us into his home. We learned he is a body guard and has recently killed three people as a result of his job. He told us he was not going to heaven and God could not forgive him for what he had done. Every night he would wake up sweating and seeing the faces of the men he had killed. After talking with him for over half an hour, explaining just how much God loves him and can forgive him, José agreed to let us pray for him. We gathered around him and we each laid a hand on him and began praying simultaneously for him. I could feel such a burden on his shoulders and a deep sorrow. I could see the pain in his eyes and the longing to be freed. My prayer was that God would open his eyes and soften his heart to God and that Satan's grip on his life would be released. And just that happened. While we were praying for him, José broke down and cried out to God for forgiveness and gave his life over to God. After praying with him, I could see peace in his eyes. He was exhausted from the experience, and his whole countenance changed. God did an amazing work in his life in those short 45 minutes. We were all crying by the end of our time together.
Over the course of the week, we saw over 3,250 people come to saving personal relationship with Jesus. This could not have been done on our own. With God's help, we were able to accomplish great things to bring Him glory. I feel very blessed to have had the opportunity to once again go to Peru to share the love of Jesus with the Peruvians.
While I was there, I was able to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. The relationships I've built over the past three years with some people really make them feel like brothers and sisters to me. And I look forward to continuing those relationships and building those that were started during my short visit. I had such a great time with my friends and will have many great memories I can always look back on.
 |
| Having fun with Mayra and Victor |
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| with Luis |
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| With my brother, Edher |
For more information, photos, and video from my week in Peru, visit atgrace.com/peru11
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Papa a la Huancaina
Tonight I made Papa a la Huancaina to go along with our chicken for dinner. Edher let me try it while we were at Canta Callao in Peru and I LOVED it! So I found the recipe online and decided I needed to make it. The recipe says to add peppers to the sauce. But I know next to nothing about peppers and my family doesn't really like spicy foods. One variation the recipe says is to add garlic instead of the peppers. So I did that. After work today I went to Rainbow and picked up the ingredients that I needed (things I normally don't buy at the grocery store). I had to boil whole potatoes (eight of them!), and that took forever! I had to peel and cut them afterwards. They were crazy hot (duh) so the skin was easy to peel off. But cutting them into rounds was hard because they kept crumbling. But oh well. Potatoes are potatoes. I used the blender to mix together everything for the sauce. I wasn't sure how thick or thin the sauce needed to be, but it turned out great. Instead of the peppers, I put in minced garlic. I wasn't sure how it was going to taste, but I do love garlic. I must say it turned out better than I thought it was going to on my first attempt. The sauce was great (though I missed the little kick Edher's had) and the potatoes were perfect. I felt like I had a little bit of Peru in my house tonight. You can find the recipe to this popular Peruvian side dish here: http://www.whats4eats.com/vegetables/papa-a-la-huancaina-recipe
Details about my trip to Peru soon!
Details about my trip to Peru soon!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
150 Names of Jesus
His Nativity Names
1. Jesus – John 9:11
2. Yeshua/Joshua – Matthew 1:1
3. Jesus of Nazareth – Luke 18:37
4. The Nazarene – Matthew 2:23
5. The Galilean – Matthew 26:69
6. Immanuel/God with Us – Matthew 1:23
7. A Babe – Luke 2:12
8. That Which Is Conceived in Her – Matthew 1:20
9. The Child Jesus – Luke 2:27
10. The Boy Jesus – Luke 1:78-79
11. The Seed of Woman – Genesis 3:15
12. The Dayspring from on High – Luke 1:78-79
13. The Consolation of Israel – Luke 2:25
14. The Horn of Salvation – Luke 1:68-69
15. Her Firstborn Son – Matthew 1:25
His Royal Names
16. A King – John 18:37
17. Another King – Acts 17:7
18. King of the Jews – Matthew 2:2, 27:37
19. King of Kings – Revelation 19:16
20. King of Righteousness – Hebrews 7:1-2
21. The Prince – Daniel 9:25-26
22. The Prince of Peace – Isaiah 9:6
23. Prince and Savior – Acts 5:31-32
His Authoritative Names
24. Lord – Matthew 3:3
25. Lord of the Sabbath – Mark 2:28
26. Lord of All – Acts 10:36-37
27. My Lord and My God – John 20:28
28. Lord of the Dead and the Living – Romans 14:9
29. The Righteous Judge – 2 Timothy 4:8
30. Judge of the Living and the Dead – Acts 10:42
31. One Having Authority – Matthew 7:28-29
32. Governor – Matthew 2:6
His Sonship Names
33. The Son – Hebrews 1:8
34. The Son of Abraham – Matthew 1:1
35. The Son of David – Matthew 12:23
36. The Son of Joseph – John 1:45
37. The Son of Man – John 3:13
38. The Son of God – Matthew 27:54
39. The Son of the Living God – Matthew 16:16
40. His Only Begotten Son – John 3:16
41. The Carpenter’s Son – Matthew 13:54-55
His Cornerstone Names
42. The Rock – Luke 6:48
43. The Chief Cornerstone – Psalm 118:22
44. A Stone for a Foundation – Isaiah 28:16
45. The Flinty Rock – Deuteronomy 8:15
46. The Stone Cut Without Hands – Daniel 2:45
47. The Stone with Seven Eyes – Zechariah 3:8-9
His Apocalyptic Names
48. The Faithful Witness – Revelation 1:5
49. Lord of Lords – Revelation 19:16
50. The Lion of the Tribe of Judah – Revelation 5:5
51. The Amen – Revelation 3:14
52. Your First Love – Revelation 2:4
53. The Alpha and the Omega – Revelation 1:8
54. The Ruler over the Kings of the Earth – Revelation 1:5
55. The Lord Who Is and Who Was and Who Is to Come – Revelation 1:8
56. The Almighty – Revelation 1:8
57. A Male Child Ruling the Nations – Revelation 12:5
58. The Bright and Morning Star – Revelation 22:16-17
59. The Word of God – Revelation 19:13
60. Faithful and True – Revelation 19:11
61. The Name No One Knows – Revelation 19:12
62. The Faithful and True Witness – Revelation 3:14
63. The Firstborn from the Dead – Revelation 1:5
64. Him Who Loved Us and Washed Us – Revelation 1:5
65. He Who Holds the Seven Stars – Revelation 2:1
His Priestly Names
66. The Minister of the Sanctuary – Hebrews 8:1-2
67. A Merciful and Faithful High Priest – Hebrews 2:17
68. A Priest Forever – Psalm 110:4
69. The Mediator – 1 Timothy 2:5
70. The Redeemer – Job 19:25-26
71. The Testator – Hebrews 9:16
72. The Burnt Offering – Leviticus 1:3-4
73. The Grain Offering – Leviticus 2:1
74. The Peace Offering – Leviticus 3:1
75. The Sin Offering – Leviticus 4:3
76. The Trespass Offering – Leviticus 5:6
77. The Bird That Was Killed – Leviticus 14:6-7
His Isaiah Names
78. Man of Sorrows – Isaiah 53:3
79. Wonderful Counselor – Isaiah 9:6
80. Everlasting Father – Isaiah 9:6
81. A Tender Plant – Isaiah 53:1-2
82. My Strength and My Song – Isaiah 12:2-3
83. My Elect One – Isaiah 42:1
84. A Polished Shaft – Isaiah 49:2
85. A Sanctuary – Isaiah 8:14
86. A Shelter from the Tempest – Isaiah 32:2
87. My Righteous Servant – Isaiah 53:11
His Johannine Names
88. God – John 1:1
89. The Savior of the World – John 4:42
90. The Lamb of God – John 1:29
91. The Word – John 1:1
92. That Eternal Life – 1 John 1:1-2
93. The True Bread from Heaven – John 6:31-34
94. The Light of the World – John 8:12
95. The Door of the Sheep – John 10:7
96. I AM – John 8:58-59
97. The Way – John 14:6
98. The Truth – John 14:6
99. The Life – John 14:6
100. The Man – John 19:5
101. The Advocate – 1 John 2:1
102. The Propitiation for Our Sins – 1 John 2:2
103. The Resurrection and the Life – John 11:25-26
104. The Vine – John 15:5
105. The Good Shepherd – John 10:10-11
106. The Serpent in the Wilderness – John 3:14-15
107. Teacher – John 13:13
108. Rabbi – John 3:2
109. He Who Comes from Heaven – John 3:31
His Pauline Names
110. Our Peace – Ephesians 2:14
111. The Savior – Philippians 3:20-21
112. The Second Man – 1 Corinthians 15:47
113. Christ Our Passover – 1 Corinthians 5:7
114. Our Great God and Savior – Titus 2:13
115. The Head – Ephesians 4:15-16
116. The Firstborn over All Creation – Colossians 1:15
117. Christ Who Strengthens Me – Philippians 4:13
118. A Servant to the Jews – Romans 15:8
119. Him – 2 Timothy 1:12
120. Him Who Fills All in All – Ephesians 1:22-23
His Petrine Names
121. The Overseer of Your Souls – 1 Peter 2:25
122. The Shepherd – 1 Peter 2:25
123. Him Who Called You Out of Darkness into His Marvelous Light – 1 Peter 2:9
His Old Testament Names
124. Shiloh – Genesis 49:10
125. The Friend Who Sticks Closer Than a Brother – Proverbs 18:24
126. The Fourth Man – Daniel 3:25
127. The Commander of the Army of the Lord – Joshua 5:13-15
128. The Fountain – Zechariah 13:1
129. The Sun of Righteousness – Malachi 4:2
130. My Companion – Zechariah 13:7
131. His Anointed – Psalm – 2:2
His Holy Names
132. The Holy One – Acts 3:14-15
133. The Just One – Acts 7:52
His Names in Hebrew
134. That Great Shepherd of the Sheep – Hebrews 13:20-21
135. The Author of Eternal Salvation – Hebrews 5:9
136. The Veil – Hebrews 10:19-20
137. The Author and Finisher of Our Faith – Hebrews 12:2
138. The Apostle – Hebrews 3:1
139. Him Who Endured Such Hostility – Hebrews 12:3
His Names in the Gospels
140. He Who Made Me Well – John 5:11
141. The Carpenter – Mark 6:3
142. A Prophet Without Honor – Matthew 13:57-58
143. The Bridegroom – Matthew 25:6
144. Fisher of Men – Matthew 4:19-20
145. A Ghost – Matthew 14:26-27
146. A Hen – Matthew 23:37
147. A Thief in the Night – Matthew 24:42-44
148. The Christ – Mark 8:29
149. The Christ of God – Luke 9:20
150. Good Teacher – Mark 10:17-18
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