Flight Paths

Although I had babysat a few times and had piano students on Saturday mornings from the time I was 16, it wasn’t quite the same as my first job.  I answered a classified ad at a concrete plant a couple of miles down the road from our house.  I expected to sit in an assembly line sorting tiles with a bunch of other women, dust rising and coating us through the heat of summer days, forty-two and a half hours a week, at minimum wage.  I lucked out.  I had written on my application that I could type and the yard boss grabbed me for his office girl that summer.  I got to wear dresses and sit in air conditioned comfort instead of sweating in blue jeans in the old tin building out back.

              But just like those other women, I didn’t get paid until payday.  I never once expected anything else.  The boss was not going to walk around handing out checks to anyone for work they hadn’t yet done.  Yet we kept on working, sure that on Friday afternoon the checks would come out. 

              I wonder about us sometimes and our expectations of God.  We walk by faith and not by sight, Paul said in 2 Cor 5:7.  Without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him, the writer says in Hebrews 11:6.  Yes, God is a rewarder, but not yet.  Certainly we receive blessings in this life, but the best this life has to offer is a far cry from the final reward.  True faith does not expect Heaven now.

              The Psalmist tells us in 33:18 that God will take care of the one who fears him, will, in fact, “deliver his soul in famine.”  I probably would never have noticed this forty years ago, but it jumped right out at me the morning I read this psalm.  He will save us “in famine”—it doesn’t say we will never have to experience a famine.  Paul says we are to “fight the good fight,” 1 Tim 6:12, he doesn’t say God will keep us out of any sort of fight at all.  Our faith will be a shield and breastplate for us (Eph 6:16; 1 Thes 5:8), but it won’t be a peace treaty with the Devil.

              Habakkuk had a hard time understanding God’s reasoning in this matter.  How could a righteous God use a nation even more wicked than His people had become to punish them?  We should never act like we can call God on the carpet and tell Him, “Explain yourself!”  Habakkuk understood that himself, so God gave him the only answer he really needed, “The just shall live by his faith.”

              By the end of the book Habakkuk knew that didn’t mean no one would die.  He knew it didn’t mean they wouldn’t experience horrible things.  And we shouldn’t expect that either.  Despite what so many preach about “health and wealth” to the true believer, this world is not Heaven and God never promised it would be.  He simply promised understanding for what we are experiencing and the help to get through it. 

              It is for us to come to the conclusion Habakkuk finally did in a paean to hope that explains how we all make it through tough times, not just me and my problems, or you and yours, but each of us in the life we have before us and its own peculiar trials and tribulations.  We wait, as he did, for the troubles to come—and they will—and we rejoice.
             
I hear, and my body trembles; my lips quiver at the sound; rottenness enters into my bones; my legs tremble beneath me. Yet I will quietly wait for the day of trouble to come upon people who invade us. Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer's; he makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3:16-19
 
Dene Ward

I walked out to turn off the sprinkler the other morning, and Chloe ran up to me as she always does, looking for a pat on the head.  I reached down out of habit, but all I felt was a cold, wet nose.  That wasn’t enough for her, so she kept right on bumping my leg until I stopped and actually got hold of fur, rubbing her back and chest hard and fast just as she likes.

              I chuckled to myself when I realized what that cold, wet nose meant:  she was doing fine.  A warm, dry nose would have had me stopping in my tracks to check her out, but a cold wet one kept me headed for my destination without a second thought.

              Funny the things that signal to us that everything is all right.  Out here in the country we lose our power so often that as we near home after a long trip I start looking at the neighbors’ houses to make sure their lights are on.  Nothing worse than coming home dog-tired and finding no power and no water.  The warmly lighted windows along the highway ease my mind.

              Did you ever think what must have been the signal to God that things were not fine in Eden?  Yes, God knew it the moment it happened, but for a moment give me a little poetic license.  God looks down and what does He see?  Fig leaves where there should be nothing.  Even Genesis remarks on that first. She took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked and they sewed fig leaves together…

              God looked at His children in their perfect home and knew that they were no longer fit to live there—those fig leaves gave them away.  “Who told you you were naked?” He asked Adam, and the jig was up.  I wonder if now He isn’t saddened by seeing us this way, if the very clothes we wear aren’t a constant reminder of His original intentions for us, and the sin we so willfully brought into this world.  Now He sees us and sighs for what could have been. 

              Even worse, those very clothes that He made to cover the sign of our iniquity, have become objects of sin themselves—apparel that causes men to lust with its lascivious intent, attire that brings division to His Son’s body when the self-righteous try to legislate what is right and wrong to wear in the group worship, more or finer clothing that causes envy in others.

              I wonder what God thinks when He looks down on our brimming closets, where we stand moaning that we “have nothing to wear?”  Surely when He sees our clothes he must think of what it cost Him and His Son.  Surely those piles of shoes remind Him of the piles of sin His children have committed.

              Who would have thought that, just like those aprons of fig leaves, the dress I wore Sunday morning, and the suit my husband chose and the tie he so carefully knotted would be a sign that everything is not all right?  Dressing every morning should remind us of what we have lost and the price tag attached to those clothes. 

              How much does that designer label matter to you now?
 
Do not let your adorning be external--the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear-- but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious, 1 Peter 3:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

In case you haven't figured it out, I love for our grandsons to visit.  My house is a wreck, my schedule is shot, I live on chicken nuggets and mac and cheese and watch either Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or Paw Patrol.  The laundry piles up and sometimes the dishes, which is a real mess because I don't have a dishwasher to hide them in.  I sit by the plastic pool being splashed on purpose and loving it, or egg on the mudfights, perfectly happy to clean up the resulting mess.  I help build highways in the ever present Florida sand, chase rocket sling shots as they scream through the sky, throw flimsy balsa airplanes into loop-de-loops, and push a swing till my arms want to drop off.  Isn't that what grandmas are supposed to do?

              I fall into bed every night utterly exhausted, but still listening for the whimpers of bad dreams or the cries of a sick tummy from too much homemade chocolate sauce on the ice cream, and get up and run whenever necessary.  Sleeping late is not an option, but who would want to anyway?  Every day is another chance to build those memories and instill those values with a Bible story every night, a memory verse picture card, a Bible game, or craft.  And then there is this.

              Every morning I lie there still in the mists of sleep when suddenly I am pelted by a soft, well-worn stuffed tiger—Lucky, if you remember—then a fairly new crocheted and stuffed Minion (ask your grandkids), and finally a blanket (Leo, by name) slowly unfurling as it flies through the air like the flying scroll in Zechariah's vision.  Our bed is high off the floor, and a toddler cannot possibly climb in without both hands to pull up by.  So after the pelting ends, the bed begins to shake and a little blond head begins to rise over the sides of the mattress, little hands persistently pulling on the sheet, little grunts of exertion sounding with every pull.  I reach down and pull on a pajama bottom waistband, giving him just the impetus he needs to climb on to the top, then burrow under the covers next to me.  I snuggle against the warm little body, the scents of bubble bath, baby shampoo, and lotion wafting up around us in the body heat.  When his head hits the pillow he rolls away from me only to scoot quickly backwards so I can spoon him and wrap him with both arms.  We are both back asleep in less than a minute.

              At least until the next set of footsteps comes in, heavier and faster, a boy whose head is already higher than the edge of the bed, who can fairly easily scale the billowy mattress and bedclothes and who, already knowing from longer experience that he is more than welcome, clambers right on in all the way over me, and snuggles down between me and his Granddad.  The game of "Wake up Granddad" ensues, giggling at the pretend growls and grumbles, growing louder with each attempt, until finally we are all good and awake and ready to begin the long day of play again.  Do you think I begrudge the sleep?  You know better than that.

              Yet knowing all of that, we sometimes act like God would begrudge the attention we ask of him, apologizing for bothering him "when there are more important things" for him to do.  Just like there is nothing more important than my children or grandchildren's welfare, there is nothing more important to God than ours.  Understand:  that does not mean he will always say yes to his children any more than I always say yes to mine.  That does not mean that there may not be things we will never understand in this world, nor maybe even in the next.  But you are important to God.  He revels in the relationship you two have.  How do I know?  Look what he sacrificed to have it.

              And don't you believe in his infinite power?  I may have to leave things undone in order to spend time with Silas and Judah.  God never has to leave things undone.  He can do it all, including the piddly little things we sometimes beg for while still keeping the earth spinning on its axis and the sun rising again and again.

              If you haven't climbed into the warm bed of love and compassion that God feels toward you, don't blame God.  He wants you there.  He will help pull you into the safety and comfort of his arms.  He won't begrudge a minute of it—unless you do.
 
I waited patiently for the LORD; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the LORD. (Ps 40:1-3)
 
Dene Ward

We plant a lot of tomatoes in our garden.  We have learned by trial and error that it is far better to plant more than you think you can possibly use of several different varieties.  Some years one type produces better than the others.  Some years one will be wiped out by a disease that doesn’t touch the others.  Usually there is neither rhyme nor reason for any of it.  By planting several types, we can be sure to have some, if not all, bear fruit, and by planting too many, if it’s a bad year, we still have enough.  On the other hand, if it’s a good year, we can be generous with friends and neighbors.

              We have also learned which types work best in our area.  For a long time we could always find what we needed in plants, but gardening has become the fashion now, and just like clothes, certain types of tomatoes are popular, and practicality seldom has anything to with it.  You used to have to search far and wide for heirlooms.  Now you must search far and wide for the ordinary hybrids.  The problem with heirlooms, at least in our part of the country, is that they bear about 5% as much as the ordinary hybrid.  We usually plant 90-95 tomatoes to fill our needs in fresh tomatoes, canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, and salsa.  If we used heirlooms exclusively, we would need to plant nearly 2000.

              If we can’t find the reliable varieties of plants in the garden shops any longer, we can find their seeds in at least one of the half dozen seed catalogues we receive.  It’s a lot more trouble.  In our small home, we have to use the entire back bedroom to lay out the seed sponges and set up the grow-lights.  When they outgrow the sponges, they are still too small and delicate to place outdoors and the weather still too cold, so we have to transplant each one into a larger cup—all 90, one by one.  Then, when the weather finally turns, we have to carry them outside every day, a little longer every day, to harden them for the final transplant into the garden where they will be prey to sun, wind, insects, birds, and animals.  Because of our careful preparation, most of them make it.  We seldom lose more than half a dozen.

              All that because fashion has taken over in gardening instead of common sense and proven track records.  It happens in every area of life. 

              Don’t get me started on the organic craze.  People had been eating organic foods for thousands of years when Jesus came along and there were still plenty of sick people for him to heal and raise from the dead.

              Everyone knows how music changes.  As far as our songs in the assembled worship, we are seeing a whole lot more rhythm and a whole lot less depth in the words.  Or, “Wow!” someone says—usually someone with a music background—“this one actually uses Dorian mode!”  Yes, but can an untrained congregation sing it easily enough to focus on the lyrics and actually do some “teaching and admonishing?”

              Teaching has its fads.  We gave up phonics and wound up with “Johnny Can’t Read.”  In Bible classes we stopped teaching Bible facts to our children because we wanted them to develop the “heart” and not just the knowledge.  So now we have ignorant people tearing churches apart over things they should have been taught as children.  We used to be known for our Bible knowledge—now many of us are as clueless as any unbeliever on the streets.

              Yes, some things are changeable expedients, and I have agreed with most of ours.  However, those things should be carefully weighed not only for their rightness, but also for the sake of pure old common sense.  Do we want to do it because it will work better for this group of people, or because everyone else is doing it?  Some of us wind up planting 2000 tomatoes just so we look good to the world, when 90 of the right kind would do just fine, probably better, at fulfilling the need. 

              The seed is the word of God, Jesus said.  Maybe it’s time we used the seed instead of chasing around looking for something new and exciting.  God’s way works, but only if you know it, and only if you use it.
 
Whoever is wise, let him understand these things; whoever is discerning, let him know them; for the ways of the LORD are right, and the upright walk in them, but transgressors stumble in them. Hosea 14:9
 
Dene Ward
 

Another in a series by guest writer Lucas Ward.

There is no passage in the Bible that says “accept one another” and yet that is exactly the idea expressed in Rom. 15: 1-7. There are two other one another passages in this text, which combine to give us this lesson: we are to accept one another.

A little context: the church in Rome had a problem. There was a strong racial tension. You see, the Hebrews had long known that they were God’s Chosen People. Even though the Kingdom of God had changed from a physical nation to a spiritual kingdom with the advent of Christianity, the Jewish Christians still carried that arrogance. Old ways die hard. The non-Christian Jews were even worse. The hatred of Gentiles could be vicious. One rabbi writing at about this time taught that Jews should not help an ailing pregnant Gentile woman. If help was given, it would just result in more Gentiles. Far better, he thought, to let her miscarry and die in the process. One less current Gentile and no new ones either. It is no wonder that the Gentiles generally hated the Jews.

In Rome, it was even worse. Here the “Chosen People” butted heads with the rulers of creation. The Romans were an understandably proud people for having conquered most of the known world. They considered themselves the greatest people and now they have to put up with a rag-tag band from a backwards province claiming to be God’s only chosen people? Tension rose. Even in the church there was discord. Then, in circa A.D. 49, Claudius Caesar expelled all the Jews from Rome. (This was why Aquila and Priscilla were in Corinth when Paul got there, Acts 18:2.) On Claudius’ death, the edict was rescinded, and the Jews returned. The Jewish Christians rejoined the church and expected to regain their prominence as those who best knew the OT. The Roman Christians were loath to bow to the Jews, as they had just had years of getting along fine without them. Dissension ruled.

Paul’s letter to the Roman church was largely aimed at ending this strife. For instance, in chapters 1-3 he emphasized to the Jews that they would be just as lost as the Gentiles without Christ, and so had no reason to be holier-than-thou. In Chapter 11 he tells the Gentiles that they have been grafted into the tree the Jews were naturally part of, and so could not afford to be anti-Semitic. These are two of numerous examples of Paul quelling the fight. Chapter 15 is the summation of this instruction.

Rom. 15:1-2 “We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.”

Paul is almost teasing them here. He knows full well that neither side is going to admit to being the weaker side, and so he puts the onus on each of them to bear with the failings of the other. He almost admits to as much when he says “let each of us” in verse two. He knows that they will each strive to prove themselves strong, and thereby forget pleasing self in order to please the neighbor. Which is what he (and the Holy Spirit) wanted. The strength that each has is not to help themselves, but to be used to help, and build up (edify), those who are weaker. The strength can also be used to bear with the failings of the other. Contrary to all the fun revenge movies out there the strong one isn’t the person who wreaks vengeance, but the one who accepts the failings of his brothers and helps them to be better. Unsurprisingly, the Lord is a perfect example of this.

Rom. 15:3 “For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, "The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me.”

The Lord didn’t use His considerable strength for His own pleasure, but instead used it to help the weak. Who can forget His prayers in Gethsemane? “Let this cup pass from me.” He wasn’t having fun when He was nailed to the cross. Instead, He was willingly taking our burden, bearing with our failings, building us up, as He took the reproach due us upon Himself. The quote is from Ps. 69.

Rom. 15:4 “For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope.”

Paul quotes the scriptures both to solidify his point and to show that the Jews were useful, as they knew these scriptures better than the Gentile converts. These scriptures are for our instruction. It is not just the scriptures, however, that leads to hope, but endurance also. We have to keep going. We have to keep bearing with the weak. We have to keep pleasing others rather than self. It is the scriptures plus endurance that leads to hope. Notice that in the next verse he calls God the God of endurance.

Rom. 15:5-6 “May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.”

The double emphasis on endurance is interesting. Perhaps Paul is admitting to both sides that he understands that bearing with the other won’t always be easy. He prays that God will help them to live in harmony with one another. They are to get along. He describes the harmony that they should experience as being “in accord with Christ”. Clearly a reference to verse 3, Paul is saying they should be willing to bear reproach for each other, as Christ did for them. Their own pleasure is less important than harmony, as Christ’s pleasure was less important than their salvation. The end goal is that they be able to come together to together glorify God. A summation is offered in verse 7:

Rom. 15:7 “Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.”

Welcome, greet, accept. We are to welcome each other. Notice how this verse essentially sums up the previous six. Vs. 1-2 are about bearing with each other and pleasing the other rather than self. That is welcoming each other. “As Christ has welcomed you” is a reference to verse 3, that Christ pleased others by bearing their reproach. “For the glory of God”, shows the end result mentioned in verse 6.

God is glorified when His people forget their differences and come together to worship Him.

In the next 5-6 verses, Paul reminds the Gentiles that Christ came to fulfill the promises given to the Jews and reminds the Jews (by quoting their own Scriptures to them) that He also came to give mercy to the Gentiles. Again and again, there should be no dissension.

One reason that there was discord was that the Jews and Gentiles worshipped a bit differently. This is covered somewhat in chapter 14. The Jews kept certain holidays and celebrated new moons, etc. all as a holdover from the old law. The Gentiles had no cultural reason, and no teaching from any authority, that they should do such things. One side thought the other weird and the other thought the first lax. Paul told them to get along, despite this. This is something we can learn from today:

Predominantly black churches of Christ tend to worship a bit differently from predominantly white churches of Christ. Their song services are maybe a bit more. . . soulful. Their preachers are a bit more animated. (In general. I’ve been to predominantly black churches in which, if I closed my eyes, I’d have guessed they were predominantly white.) There is nothing unscriptural about any of this. It might make me feel a bit uncomfortable for cultural reasons, but it shouldn’t for Christian reasons. If our church gets a large group of black Christians as visitors and we notice that the building is swaying a bit more than usual during the song service and the sermon generates more “Amen!”s than usual, should we get upset and ask our brethren to quiet down? Of course not! We are to “welcome one another”.

Despite racial differences, cultural differences, and even differences in the worship (as long as the basic scriptural pattern in being followed) we are to live in harmony with one another. We are to welcome one another as brethren in Christ. We are to accept one another.

God is glorified when His people forget their differences and come together to worship Him.
 
Lucas Ward

When America was first colonized, bluebirds were probably as profuse as the American Robin.  But they suffered a major decline between 1920 and the late 70s.  Winter freezes in the South in the 1890s, the late 1940s, and several in the 1950s and 70s left them without protection, food, and liquid water.  Changes in land use, highways, and loss of forest also contributed.  Their habitat was slowly disappearing.  Orchards with carefully pruned trees meant no more cavities in the trunks and branches, their preferred nesting sites.  Pesticides meant fewer insects for them to eat, and many of the bugs that survived were tainted with poison that killed the birds that ate them. Maybe the biggest problem was the introduction of House Sparrows (not true sparrows) and European Starlings.  These birds were aggressive competitors for both food and habitat.  By the 1980s, younger generations of Americans had never even seen a bluebird.
              On March 20, 1978 the North American Bluebird Society was incorporated under the direction of Dr. Lawrence Zeleny.  They flooded the public with information on the demise of practically everyone's favorite bird, and gave out instructions on building bluebird houses and maintaining bluebird trails.  Thanks largely to the efforts of individuals like you and me, the bluebird population is once again rising.
I have three bluebird houses.  I wondered one day what made a bird house a bluebird house and got an education I didn’t expect. 
              Bluebird houses are built in dimensions bluebirds like, shallow depth of 3½ to 5 inches.  I guess they like it cozy.  A good bluebird house has good drainage and cross ventilation.  It also has no perch outside the entrance, which keeps away predators.  A sparrow-proof bluebird house will have a slot entrance instead of a round hole because sparrows do not like slots, while bluebirds don’t mind them. 
              As for the monitoring, songbirds have a notoriously bad sense of smell, so it is perfectly acceptable to open the houses and check the nest and the fledglings every day for parasites or “squatters.”  Monitors can even rebuild the nest if parasites are found without upsetting the bluebird.  They also know the different types of nests and remove the ones that are not bluebird nests.  After a successful clutch has hatched and flown, they remove the old nest and clean it out for the next. 
              Do you think I can’t get any lessons out of this?  Watch me.
              Too many times we get picky about the people we share the gospel with.  I have heard things like, “We need to convert them.  They’d be a good addition to the church,” a thought based upon the lifestyle and income of the family in question rather than their need for the gospel.  We “sparrow-proof” the church by making it unfriendly and unattractive to the people we don’t want to deal with—who wants people with real problems? 
              We aren’t the only ones with that bad attitude.  The Pharisees thought it terrible that Jesus taught "sinners."  At least four times in the book of Luke we see them approaching either him or the disciples asking why he associated with such wicked people, (5:30; 7:39; 15:1,2; 19:7).  They turned their noses up at the very people they should have been trying to save.
              The first Christians were Jewish.  Guess who they did not want the apostles to convert?  Peter had to defend himself after he converted the Gentile Cornelius, Acts 11.  Defend himself, mind you, because he saved souls! 
              Then in James 2 we read of a church that didn’t want poor people among them.  They went out of their way NOT to welcome anyone who was not obviously well-to-do.
              If you have not seen attitudes like these, you are either blessed in the congregation you find yourself a part of, or not very old.  Keith was once chastised for bringing the “wrong class” of people to church.  They came from “the other side of the tracks.”
              The Lord didn’t die just for the bluebirds.  He died for those squawking, brash blue jays too.  He died for those territorial cardinals.  He died for those common, ordinary, dime-a-dozen sparrows.  He even died for those disgusting buzzards.  All those people need salvation too, not just the bluebirds. 
              Jesus told the Pharisees who questioned him three parables.  The last, the lost son, included an older brother who obviously did not want his little brother saved.  Jesus made it plain that the older brother was as much in need of grace as the younger.  It had to be obvious to those Pharisees that his remarks were directed to them.  They are directed to us too, when we try to make his house “for bluebirds only.”
 
For the love of Christ constrains us; because we thus judge, that one died for all, therefore all died;  and he died for all, that they that live should no longer live unto themselves, but unto him who for their sakes died and rose again.  From now on therefore we regard no one according to the flesh… 2 Cor 5:14-16.
 
Dene Ward

You think Black Friday is bad?  I was reading through some historical trivia and found this:  on Saturday, March 18, 1944, guards and floorwalkers at a Chicago department store were trampled by 2500 women storming the store doors for 1500 alarm clocks that had been announced for sale.  Alarm clocks?  In March?  What in the world was that about?  I did a little checking but with my severely limited equipment I was unable to find the exact store and the exact price on those clocks, or what made them so special.  It must have been some sale, though, or some alarm clock.

              Isn’t it a shame that the doors of meetinghouses all over this country aren’t stormed in a similar way every Sunday?  Isn’t it heartbreaking that we can hardly get a neighbor to study with us until he experiences some sort of horrible tragedy in his life?  Isn’t it a travesty beyond measure that God can say, “I have something for you that is absolutely free,” and hardly anyone cares? 

              Buy the truth and sell it not, the Proverb writer says in 23:23, adding yea, buy wisdom, instruction, and understanding.  Don’t you wish they were for sale?  What I wouldn’t give for the wisdom to better handle this life, for direct instruction from God when I am floundering about, wondering what to do, and to know the truth about every question I have or am asked. 

              The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it. Matthew 13:44-46.  I have brethren who won’t even give up their time on the weekends much less be willing to sell everything they own for a place in that kingdom.

              We may have a good head for numbers and be able to plan what we think of as a secure future for ourselves, but our definition of security is wrong.  God told his people in Isa 55:2 and 3, Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David.  Moses even earlier had said, Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God, Deut 8:3.

              As smart as we think we are, one of these days we will learn unequivocally that we have placed value on the wrong things.  Real faith does not “rest in the wisdom of men but in the power of God,” and “surpassing power belongs to God and not to us,” 1 Cor 2:5; 2 Cor 4:7.

              Not so, we say with our deeds, if not our words: “God has no idea how to handle money!”  We may boast of our faith, but our actions often belie it and at the same time accuse God of being a fool.

              For what would you be willing to camp outside all night in the cold in order to buy at first light?  For what would you pound on the doors of the store?  For what would you pay a jacked-up price because you want it so badly, or tear out of another’s hand at the risk of losing your own?  Why are we so enamored of “things” and think so little of the spiritual wealth God offers for free every day?
 
I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent. Revelation 3:15-19
 
Dene Ward

Too many times we studio teachers teach only the instrument, piano and voice in my case, and neglect the other things that make one a well-rounded musician—history, theory, ear training.  So for my students I made up history notebooks focusing on one particular composer each year containing articles, worksheets, and listening labs.  When the makeup of the studio suddenly increased to 40% voice students, I decided to make a notebook with them in mind, one on opera.  Besides, even piano students needed to know about opera.

              I began with worksheets on the history of opera and types of operas.  Then we moved on to study the stories of 5 different operas, followed by a listening lab on one of the more famous arias from each opera.  I live in a rural county.  The closest thing to opera any of these students had ever seen or heard was their grandparents’ reminiscences of Minnie Pearl and the Grand Ol’ Opry.  The answers I received on many of the listening labs often made me laugh out loud and taught me a lot about perspective.

              “Nessun dorma” from Turandot:  (All the recordings were in the original language of the opera.)  On the question, “Describe the melody,” a 6 year old wrote, “Sounds Italian to me.”  How could I argue with that?
              Another question attempted to point out the emotion in the singers’ voices by asking, “Where in the music do you think he sings, ‘I will win!  I will win!’?”  Though it was in Italian it was obvious; even the 6 year old got it.  But one 10 year old thoroughly misunderstood the question and wrote, “I don’t know, but he was so loud, he MUST have been outside somewhere.”

              “La donna mobile” from Rigoletto:  “What are the main difficulties of this aria?”  A 9 year old answered, “He’s trying to get a woman, but can’t.”

              We could not have left out Carmen, though presenting this less than moral character to children took a bit of discretion.  We listened to the “Habanera,” which is, in reality, a dance.  “Carmen likes to flirt a lot.  How does the fact that she is singing to a dance make it sound ‘flirty?’”  A 9 year answered, “It shows she’s pretty smart if she can sing a dance!”

              Because the majority of my singers were 14-16 year old girls, I chose Charlotte Church’s recording over Maria Callas’s version of Carmen.  Charlotte was only 15 at the time and I felt they could better relate to her.  However, this brought about the question, “How is her ability to sing this character likely to change as she gets older?”  Talk about perspective, a 9 year old boy wrote, “She’ll soon be married and she’d better not be flirting with other men!!!!”  But a 16 year old girl wrote--now remember Charlotte was only 15 on this recording--“It won’t be long till she is so old she won’t even remember how to flirt any more.” 

              Was this notebook successful?  When I took up the final exams I wondered.  The first question was “Define opera.”  An 11 year old wrote, “A type of music for men and women where you sing real LOUD.”

              But I also had them write, both at the beginning of the study and at the end, what they honestly thought about opera.  One 14 year old was very tactful at the beginning of the year when she wrote, “I think people who can sing it are very talented.”  But at the end of the year she wrote, “If this is opera, I really like it.  And I learned not to ever say I don’t like something when I don’t really know anything about it.”

              I wonder how many people approach the Bible that way?  They believe it to be a book of myths, a storybook, only a suggestion for how to live, anything but the Word of God when they have absolutely no personal knowledge on the subject.  They have never considered the evidence; they have never made comparisons to other ancient writings that are far less convincing.  We have only 643 copies of Homer’s Iliad but over 5700 copies of the scriptures, and no one ever questions the completeness and accuracy of that Greek epic.  We believe George Washington existed and became our first president.  Why?  Because of eyewitness accounts, the same type of accounts available in historical documents about Jesus.  Even people who accept Jesus as the Son of God, question the validity of the New Testament because it was a translation, yet Jesus himself quoted a translation of the Old Testament, one about as far removed from him in time as the New Testament is from us, and all this barely skims the surface of internal and external evidences validating the Bible.

              My students learned a valuable lesson the year we studied opera:  don’t judge until you check it out yourself.  If you are wondering about the Bible, about Jesus, and even about the existence of a Creator, the only logical and fair thing is for you to do that too.
 
For the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us who are saved it is the power of God. For it is written, I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, And the discernment of the discerning will I bring to nought. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? where is the disputer of this world? hath not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. 1 Corinthians 1:18-21
 
Dene Ward

Coenraad Van Houten may be responsible for more brownies in this country than anyone else.  Born on March 15, 1801 in Amsterdam, he invented the process of "dutching" cocoa.  I had heard of “Dutch cocoa” for a long time, assuming it was a special kind made in the Netherlands.  I finally discovered that “dutch” has nothing to do with its origin.  “Dutching” is a process which removes some of the acid from the cocoa, supposedly enhancing its browning ability and making the chocolate flavor more pronounced.  I found some a few years ago and proceeded to make all my usual chocolate recipes, expecting them to be transformed into something even more wonderful than before.  I was disappointed.  Everything turned nearly black, looking and tasting exactly like Oreos.  Aha!  At least I had discovered that Nabisco uses dutched cocoa to give those iconic cookies their signature flavor and color.

              I am afraid that, at least in this area, I remain plebeian and unrefined.  I do not want my Mississippi Mud Cake, my Texas Sheet Cake, my Wellesley Fudge Cake, nor even my plain old fudge brownies to taste like Oreos.  And the frosting on a chocolate cake should never be darker than the cake—it is just not right somehow.

              I find that is the way I feel about a lot of things.  Dumplings should be flat, not puffy, waterlogged biscuits; cookies should be chewy or crisp, never cakey; and tea should be sweet, not bitter, while coffee should be black, not sweet. 

              And in the spiritual arena, Bible classes should be classes.  I need to attend with a mindset to learn, not to show off how much I already know.  Would we ever allow our children to teach their own classes from their desks?  Yet for some reason we think that those old “read a verse and comment” classes are great.  The more people talk, the better the class, some say, when often the opposite is true.  When one verse is divorced from its context, all sorts of strange concepts arise.  The more people talk, the more confused the babes in Christ may become.  And really, shouldn’t what the teacher has spent hours preparing be far better than anything any of us can come up with off the cuff?  Discussion is one thing; allowing the students to teach the class is quite another.

              The word “class” necessarily involves hearing something new, or at least challenging.  It may mean I have to think deeper thoughts than usual, that I may actually need to go home and study on my own to fully appreciate what I have been told.  Yikes!  I might actually need to put in a little more effort than sitting on a pew for an hour.

              In the same vein, sermons should be sermons, not Rotary Club talks.  Once again that involves the idea of being challenged to be a better person, to change some area of my life, even, perhaps, to admit wrong at least to myself and God.  Can’t have that, can we?  Why, someone might be offended.  If no one ever goes away offended (in our use of the term, not the Bible’s), I think it is a safe bet that a real sermon has never been preached.  “Thou art the man,” is difficult to say without someone knowing he is being confronted.

              So stop expecting Oreos where there should be none.  They are fine in their place, usually with a glass of milk at the kitchen table, but don’t put them on the menu at a four star restaurant.   

              We should feel that way whenever anyone tries to insult our intelligence with Bible classes that are not classes and sermons that are not sermons.  We should want the pure, unadulterated word of God “in season and out of season,” which translates, “whether we want to hear it or not,” whether it is easy or not, and we should want to go deeper and deeper, applying it in our lives, finally transforming us into what God would have us be. 
 
And they read in the book, in the law of God, distinctly; and they gave the sense, so that they understood the reading.  And all the people went their way to eat and to drink, and to send portions and to make great mirth, because they had understood the words that were declared unto them, Neh 8:8,12.
 
Dene Ward

I can remember my mother bringing the laundry in from the clothesline and filling up a long-necked green bottle with a top that looked a little like the pour spout of the sprinkling can she used on her flowers.  She carefully sprinkled water over the clothes she had already spent several hours washing and drying, turning them over to get both sides, and then stuffed them in a large zippered plastic bag.  Not a Ziploc, but something the size of a kitchen garbage sack with a real clothing zipper on it.  Then she put the bag in the refrigerator.  A few days later, she opened her ironing board, preheated her electric iron and spent several more hours ironing those clothes.  Every week.  Me?  I spend a couple hours every 2 months and that only because my boys and my husband love cotton shirts.  Lucky for me they only had a few of them, and now I am down to just a husband.

              I looked up the invention of permanent press fabric and must have found half a dozen dates.  Chemical companies, fabric companies, and clothing manufacturers all seem to claim a share of the glory all the way back to the 1930s.  Then in 1956 there was a patent that simply claims to be the invention of permanent press.  The problem was the way it was produced.  The resin on the cloth made the cloth stiff, uncomfortable to wear, and easily split when it was sewn.  Koret of California finally received a patent on March 14, 1961, for an improved method of manufacturing press-free crease-retained garments made with smooth, comfortable fabric that held up.  I barely remember the first time my mother bought my father a permanent press dress shirt so that date is just about right.  And all that brought something to mind.

                Maybe this is one of those urban legends that everyone has heard from someone.  I am really not certain, but Keith’s mother once told us about a young woman who began attending services with them back in the 1950s with her three young children, the oldest about 6.  She arrived just on time and left quickly.  But unlike many of those types, she was always there, her children knew the basic Bible stories, and she herself was attentive to both class and sermon.  In fact her keeping to herself seemed to be more a product of embarrassment than anything else.

              My mother-in-law, astute observer that she was, had noticed something.  The children were always neat, clean, and combed except for one thing—their clothes were always wrinkled.  This was back before the day of permanent press and polyester.  There is nothing quite as wrinkled as old-fashioned cotton—except maybe wrinkled linen—which was way beyond this woman’s means.

              I forget now how she managed to ask.  Maybe it was the offer of an iron, which I know she was generous enough to do.  Knowing my mother-in-law though, she probably just came out and asked.  However she did it, she got an answer.

              The woman’s husband was not a Christian.  He not only refused to attend services with her, he refused to get up and help her get the children ready.  So every week after their Saturday evening bath, she dressed them for church and then put them to bed.  The next morning it was easier to get the three tykes up and fed and herself dressed for church.

              After all these years, I’ve heard nearly every excuse in the world for missing Bible classes or the morning services altogether.  This young woman could have easily pulled two or three off the list and used them.  So why didn’t she?  I can think of three good reasons.

              First, she loved the Lord.  Nothing and no one was going to come between her and her Savior.  She knew the perils of allowing excuses to keep her away from the spiritual nutrition her soul needed, and she was not so arrogant as to think she could feed herself with no help at all.  “I can have a relationship with God without the church,” I have heard more times than I can count.  She knew better.

              And because she had her first priority correct, the others fell right in line.  She loved her children, but more than that she loved her children’s souls.  She had to combat not only the usual onslaught of the world, but the huge impact of a father’s bad example.  She was still in her early 20s so she had probably married quite young, too young to really understand the challenges of this “mixed” marriage, maybe even so naïve that she thought “love would conquer all” and he would change easily.  Now she knew better, but she was more than ever determined to save her children.

              And despite it all, she loved her husband and his soul too.  She knew that any little chink in her armor would allow him the rationale he needed to remain apathetic to her faith.  She understood Peter’s command in 1 Pet 3:1,2,  Likewise, wives, be subject to your own husbands, so that even if some do not obey the word, they may be won without a word by the conduct of their wives, when they see your respectful and pure conduct.  The more he resisted, the stronger she needed to be, and if taking her children to church in wrinkled clothes did the trick, then that’s what she would do.

              This young woman shows us all that excuses can be overcome by pure will.  Certainly we are not talking about the truly old, ill, and otherwise unable to go out either regularly or on occasion when there is truly a “bad day.”  We are talking about people who allow a little, or even a lot of trouble to become too much trouble to serve God.  I know many who work around the hurdles and snags that Satan throws in our paths.  It costs them time, money, and a whole lot of extra energy, but they have their priorities straight.  They know who comes first, and they understand that our modern “sacrifices” are an insult to the word. 

              If finding excuses comes easily for me, maybe I need to consider throwing out my permanent press and wearing some wrinkled clothes.
 
And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God. But he said unto him, A certain man made a great supper; and he bade many: and he sent forth his servant at supper time to say to them that were bidden, Come; for all things are now ready. And they all with one consent began to make excuse…And the servant came, and told his lord these things. Then the master of the house being angry said to his servant, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor and maimed and blind and lame.  And the servant said, Lord, what thou didst command is done, and yet there is room.  And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and constrain them to come in, that my house may be filled.  For I say unto you, that none of those men that were bidden shall taste of my supper.  Luke 14:15-24.
 
Dene Ward