Flight Paths

In this part of Florida, summer begins in May.  The hot sun has traveled north and once again crosses directly over the house instead of the field.  The spring blooms have faded long ago—no more yellow jessamine cascading over the trellis, no more azaleas jacketed with blooms in every shade of pink and purple, no more jasmine sending out heavy clouds of sweet fragrance.  Now it's simply too hot.
            But—the blueberries are ready to be picked.  When we had our little blueberry patch we went out every other morning, plastic bucket in hand, and picked.  Before five minutes were up, I could feel the first prickles on my scalp and in the next five, the perspiration started rolling out of my hair.  Did I say it was hot?  But it was certainly worth it.
            At first, only a few were ripe enough, barely dusky blue, and we might have enough to throw in a bowl of cereal, or, if I saved them for three or four days, a batch of muffins or pancakes.  By the second week, things had improved and blueberry pie or a crisp was in the works.  By the end of the season we were loading up quart size plastic tubs and putting them in the freezer.  We usually pulled the last tub out sometime around March of the following year.  Blueberries almost all year long!
           Why didn't we pick them all at once, you ask?  Actually, you probably know the answer to that.  You only pick the ripe ones and they do not ripen all at the same time.  That's one reason it takes so long to pick.  You have to go limb by limb, berry by berry, in order to get the best.  There is a word for that—oddly enough, it's called "cherry-picking" because, I presume, when you pick cherries you do it exactly the same way, limb by limb, cherry by cherry, only picking the ones you really want.
            If we aren't careful, we do the same thing with the Bible.  We cherry-pick the commands we want to obey and ignore the rest.  They don't count.   They aren't important.   Whatever the metaphor might be for "ripe."  You think we would never do such a thing?  Let me show you a few.
            None of us would neglect Mark 16:16; Acts 2:38; Acts 22:16; 1 Pet 3:21 would we?  In fact, I bet you don't even need to look those up.  You already know that they refer to the command to be baptized.  Of course we need to be baptized.
            But the same God who commanded baptism also said, "Husbands love your wives as your own body" (Eph 5:28) and "Live with your wives in an understanding way, giving her honor…" (1 Pet 3:7). 
           The same who God who said, "Wives submit to your own husbands" (Eph 5:22) also said "[Everyone] submit to one another" (Eph 5:21) and "We who are strong have an obligation to bear the infirmities of the weak and not to please ourselves" (Rom 15:1). 
            The same God who said we should partake of the Lord's Supper on the first day of the week when we are gathered together (Acts 20:7) also said we are to "Sing and make melody to the Lord" (that's each individual) (Eph 5:19). 
         The same God who said, "Preach the Word" (2 Tim 4:2) also said, "Withdraw yourselves from every brother who walks disorderly" (2 Thes 3:6).
           Or as James the Lord's brother put it, the same God who said, "Thou shalt not kill" and "Thou shalt not commit adultery" also said we should not show bias toward another human being (James 2:8-11). 
            Now tell me we are not guilty occasionally of "blueberry-picking" among God's commands.  Usually it's something we want to excuse ourselves from because it is not as pleasant, not as easy, and might cause us embarrassment or even inconvenience.  Perhaps it means we will have to totally change our attitudes about what devotion to God really means.
           It's easy really.  If He said it, do it.  That's the way His child should obey.  Not judging his law as if we have the right to decide what is and is not important.  We cannot run to Matthew 23 and the Pharisees either.  See what Jesus said to them:  Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others (Matt 23:23).  Yes, some commands are "weightier" than others, but Jesus said, you do them both, not leave one undone because you don't want to do it—because that's what it really boils down to.
           God never meant us to go blueberry picking with His Law.  He just wants us to obey it.
 
For whoever keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it (Jas 2:10).
 
Dene Ward
 

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. (Jas 1:22-25)
            How many times has the above passage been used in sermons and articles?  I think I have even used it myself, at least once if not more, on this blog.  We must constantly look at ourselves in the mirror of God's word and then we will see all of our faults and be able to fix them, right?  I recently had an experience that made me stop and rethink all of that.
            We had the privilege of keeping our grandsons for a while, and had taken them to their favorite eating joint.  Silas sat across from me in the booth and we were discussing school or friends or something of the sort.  He leaned down to get a sip of his soda then looked right at me and said, "Grandma?"
            "Yes?" I encouraged.
 "You have two different eyes, don't you?  One big eye and one little eye."
            It took a minute for me to realize what he meant.  So then I explained that I had very sick eyes (which is exactly what one doctor called them), and that the "little eye" had needed so many surgeries that I couldn't hold it open as well as I could the other one.  He was perfectly satisfied with the explanation and we went on to talk about other things.
            That night I looked in the mirror, wondering where this "little eye" was that he saw.  I had never noticed that much difference.  That's when I realized that every time I looked in the mirror I only looked at the other eye.  It has had surgeries too, and it is also "sick," but it has not been medically abused as much as the other.  When I made myself look at both eyes I was actually startled.  Since I always focus on the other eye, I had never really noticed exactly how different the two eyes look.
            Don't you suppose the same thing can happen when we look in the mirror James spoke about?    Simply looking in the mirror is not enough when we only look at the good we do and refuse to look at the very sick parts of our souls, the parts that really need spiritual medicine.
            So here is today's challenge:  don't just look at the big eye; focus on the little one, the one you really need to see.  I can't fix my "little eye," but you can fix yours right up, if you are brave enough to really look at it and honest enough to change.
 
How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother's eye. (Luke 6:42)
 

This is, obviously, a work of fiction. Not only that but, as the author freely admits, a woman in Mary's day and time could never have kept a journal.  You didn't go to the store and buy a bound volume of blank paper, let alone a handy ball point pen!  Despite that, the idea of looking into Mary's heart as she lived her remarkable life, full of joy, excitement, bewilderment, fear, and abject sorrow is probably something we have all thought about.  What was it like for this specially chosen young woman to see an angel, to experience a virgin birth, and then to raise the Messiah?  We have all wondered.
            Ms. Bence has done excellent research.  Her little book includes Jewish lore, first century customs in Palestine (yes, that business about the kataluma is correct), and extra-Biblical history that, as far as I could find out, is on the money.  Naturally, she has to make up some of the details.  She gives definite ages for both Mary and Joseph, but both are highly probable.  She makes up names for their parents and siblings, only two of which we know for certain from the Bible (Joseph's father, Jacob, and Mary's sister, Salome).  She also imagines circumstances for Mary's other children—twin sons, an adopted son, and a definite number of two daughters.  Her depiction of John the Baptist as a little boy is humorous, but could be apt.
            More than that, she imagines the conversations and consequences of God's blessing on Mary as she struggles to tell her parents, and then Joseph, about Gabriel's visit, and the things they both must have gone through with villagers who could count to nine and had very long memories.  Then she covers the things you might not have thought about—like Joseph raising a child he knows is not his and how it effects the marriage, Jesus' not marrying which carried ramifications in that culture, and other items too numerous to list.  No, it is not perfect.  Finding a couple of Biblical errors was disappointing after the careful research, but they were indeed few and far between.  A few things seemed far-fetched, even considering the different cultures—like Joseph burying the wise men's gifts in the backyard for a couple of decades when certainly they needed it on the trip to Egypt.  But then you have the heart-wrenching tale (which might very well have happened) of a family member in Bethlehem losing an eighteen month old son to the Roman swords while Mary and Joseph were warned to flee, and the guilt Mary might have carried with her forever since it was her child they were looking for.
            This book is a page-turner and a quick read.  Do not treat it as truth, but as something to consider when you read about Mary and Joseph and all the unrecorded events they might have experienced.  These people were marvels of faith in every way possible.
            Mary's Journal is published by Zondervan Publishing, but you can also find good used copies on all the used book sites.
 
Dene Ward

I have a friend who, before she retired, kept a bar of soap in her desk drawer.  Whenever a new young hire came in, it wasn't long before she was telling him about her soap and how much he needed to chew on it awhile.  If you have not noticed, the language around us is simply atrocious. 

"It's just a word," one young co-worker proclaimed.

"Choose another one," she tersely replied.

Why anyone would think that filthy language was appropriate in a professional setting, I cannot imagine.  But then I go out in the world and hear children saying words I would never have breathed aloud when I was young—not if I wanted to sit down again any time soon.

I am not just talking about the four letter words that people usually consider "dirty" or even taking the Lord's name in vain.  As a culture we have become crude and vulgar.  Lucy and Ethel had us rolling in the floor as we watched their antics on the candy wrapping conveyor belt and in the wine vat.  Now we seem to require a heavy dose of bathroom humor or sexual innuendo before anything is deemed funny. 

And talk about hypocrisy—the same media that berates the president for his bad language gives us a show called "S*****'s Creek" and a movie called "Meet the F*****s" with all the attendant jokes that can obviously be made from those two titles.  I won't dignify them with their supposedly cleaned up names.

Do you think it hasn't affected Christians?  I hear words all the time that I would never have been allowed to say without being punished.  No, they aren't "dirty" words.  They're just crude.  Swear words aren't the only words Christians shouldn't be speaking.  I regularly delete posts on Facebook from my brothers and sisters that a Christian shouldn't have spoken aloud to a few, much less put out there for literally thousands to see, demeaning their purity and holiness. 

Our culture has even managed to make it acceptable to use one of the ugliest phrases in our language, a phrase that would have ended up in a parking lot beat down when I was a child.  And the younger generation steadfastly refuses to accept its origin just because they can find no one who knows it either.  My poor husband wound up vilified once because he dared suggest that a brother shouldn't use that term, which refers to a homosexual act.  Even if the younger generation refuses to recognize the vulgarity for what it is, we older folks know exactly what it means and "everyone says it" never has been and never will be an acceptable excuse. 

Is it really that important?  Paul says it is.

And there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. (Eph 5:4)  That term "coarse jesting" is actually one word in the Greek and it isn't necessarily talking about dirty jokes.  It's talking about crudity, vulgarity, double entendres, and any other sort of coarse language.  It refers to bathroom humor, bodily functions, sexual innuendo and anything that should be unacceptable in polite society, and even more so among those who claim lives of purity.  Look at the rest of the context.

But immorality or any impurity or greed must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints; and there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. For this you know with certainty, that no immoral or impure person or covetous man, who is an idolater, has an inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. (Eph 5:3-5).

Do you see the implications Paul makes?  If I speak like this, I am impure, immoral, and not fit to be in the kingdom.  That's how important this is.  We are supposed to be different.  How will it be known if we sound just like everyone else, and laugh at the same crude humor?  Remember the old Ivory Soap ads?  "99 and 44/100th percent pure," they claimed.  We should be trying for a purity even beyond that, but we end up looking like someone dropped us in a tar pit when we open our mouths.

I am not some ignorant fool who does not realize that Paul spoke from time to time in figures that were shocking.  I would that they that unsettle you would even go beyond circumcision, (Gal 5:12) is a prime example.  But let me ask you this.  How much shock value would that statement have had if he spoke that way all the time?  This was a special circumstance.  People were losing their souls.  When this was read, I imagine there was a collective gasp as everyone suddenly understood how serious Paul was about the matter.  He would never had said such a thing otherwise.

Us?  We sound like that constantly, just for laughs, or even about the trivial everyday stuff.  I feel like my friend—I need to carry a bar of soap around.  But I never imagined I would have to offer it to a brother.
 
Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. (Eph 4:29)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer, Lucas Ward.

I'll bet most of us have a shared experience in growing up.  As children we'd be disappointed and the manner in which our hopes were crushed would tweak our childish sense of justice.  We'd cry out, "That's not fair!", to which our mothers would inevitably reply, "Well, life isn't fair."  Though none of us liked this reply it taught us that sometimes life doesn't work the way we think is just and we have to keep living anyway.  We have to learn to overcome the unfairness and accomplish our goals or else accept that our lives aren't going to go the way we'd hoped and learn to be content along another path.  There is a strength that comes with learning that life isn't fair. 
            Unfortunately, there is a generation growing up that never learned this lesson.  A young lady I worked with at Publix reacted with shock and a little bit of horror when I repeated the platitude.  "Life is fair," she said, "or at least I've always found it to be.  I'm sorry that you feel that life hasn't been fair to you."  At that point I was horrified.  The poor girl had no defenses built up.  When life inevitably was unjust to her, she'd most likely fold under the pressure.  She hadn't learned from an early age to ignore injustice and push through.  The more I watch the world around me, the more I'm convinced she wasn't a stand-alone case, but rather the exemplar of a generation.
            What is especially hard to take is when life is unfair BECAUSE a person is righteous.  Job is a good example of this.  We learn in 1:8 that the reason God pointed out Job to Satan is because he was "a blameless and upright man who fears God and turns away from evil."  All those horrible things happened to Job because he was good!  No wonder he proclaims in 19:6-7 that "God has put me in the wrong . . . there is no justice".  Job was crying out, "This isn't fair!" and God says that what Job said about Him was right (42:7-8).  And, let's face it, the last of the Beatitudes doesn't really sound like a blessing:  "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account.  Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you." (Matt. 5:10-12)  I should be happy when I'm persecuted for righteousness?  That's the definition of not fair!  Happy when people revile and persecute me because I proclaim Jesus?  What is going on?  And yet we are told this is what we should expect:  "Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted."  (2 Tim. 3:12).
            Just as we must learn to live our lives in an unfair world, we must learn to live as Christians under even less fair circumstances.  The story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in Daniel 3 shows us the attitudes we need to face a life of such service.  I imagine we all know this story.  Nebuchadnezzar erected an idol and ordered all his officers to worship it or be burned to death. Those three young men did not worship and were hauled before the king.  They were being punished for not sinning!  Not fair!  When given a second chance by the king, they responded with "If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” (Dan. 3:16-17)
            The first thing to notice is that these men did not deign to speak for God.  "If this be so [that the king was going to throw them in the furnace] our God . . . is able to deliver us".  They knew He was able, but they couldn't control what God would do.  All they could control was their own actions:  "But if not [even if God doesn't save us] . . . we will not serve your gods". 
            All too often our faith is based upon what we suppose God will do.  We believe that once we turn our lives over to God, everything will always work out for the best here on Earth.  Our financial problems will go away, our health issues will heal up, our family life will become Cleaver-esque and all temptations will cease.  When that doesn't happen, when, in fact, our lives get tougher because of our faith, we fold.  We act like that young lady at Publix who had never heard that sometimes life isn't fair.  This is the height of silliness, since we are repeatedly told that living for God will lead us to being persecuted by those who live for this world. 
            So what do we do in the face of such unfairness?  We follow Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's example.  We focus on living for God, not matter what happens, secure in our belief that He has a plan that ultimately will lead us home to Him.  We don't dictate to God, we submit to His will.  Whatever happens in our lives, we hold to the knowledge that He is our hope of salvation.  In this, we follow the example of Job who, later in the same chapter in which he claimed "there is no justice", made one of the great confessions of faith:  "But as for me I know that my Redeemer lives, And at last he will stand up upon the earth:  And after my skin, even this body, is destroyed, Then without my flesh shall I see God" (Job 19:25-26)
            Life isn't fair.  The Christian life is even less so.  Don't worry about what God will do in each situation.  Focus on living for Him, sure in the faith that He has a plan that is leading towards your ultimate, eternal good.  Whatever destruction this life throws in our way, know this.  Hold to this:
 
"I know that my Redeemer lives"  Job 19:25
 
Lucas Ward

Once there were two young brothers.  The older was a young teenager, and the younger an early middle schooler.  Not long before, they had been playmates, but the older brother had that usual growth spurt that boys do and suddenly he was a foot taller and his voice an octave lower than his little brother's.  Even his thinking had begun to change so that when he led a prayer, he prayed part as a little boy with little boy wishes and part as a young man in whom was dawning the greater complexities and spirituality of life.
            One day when their grandmother was visiting, they decided to "play golf," which turned out to be their own made-up game with made-up rules because, let's face it, you can't hit a long, hard drive in your backyard without endangering your neighbor's abode.  Grandma was the scorekeeper, and she wondered how this would work at all with big brother suddenly so much bigger, stronger, and more adept as a budding young golfer.  It worked just fine.
            Whenever little brother hit it "in the rough," big brother told him, "Go ahead and toss it out into the short grass.  We won't count that stroke."  And so little brother, while remaining behind in the scoring, was not so far behind that it discouraged him.  Then big brother made a few excellent shots and found himself five or six points ahead (which is actually lower, you know) than his little brother.  Suddenly, big brother was not playing quite as carefully, though not very noticeably so, and little brother caught up and made it a tie.  The game went into "Sudden Death," as the brothers called it.  Eventually, big brother won by 1.  He was satisfied with his win and little brother was more than pleased with his showing and not a bit disappointed.  After all, he had expected to lose to someone bigger, stronger, and more adept at golf.
            But he never really noticed what his brother had done for him, and big brother kept it that way.  No rubbing little brother's nose in his inability.  No bragging about how much better he was.  No taking this great opportunity to rout the weaker brother and enjoy stomping him in the dust.  Just a quiet, humble way of serving his brother that encouraged and motivated him to try even harder.
            And I am one proud Grandma.
 
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. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me” Rom 15:1-3).
 
Dene Ward

I suppose it has not escaped your notice that I do not write what I call, “Feel Good Fluff.”  I do my best writing when I am scolding myself, and unfortunately, that means you get scolded too.
            I am more concerned with becoming a better person than with feeling good.  Maybe that is because I seldom feel good physically any more, so I am not wedded to the idea that I must always be pumped up spiritually in order to become a more spiritual person. 
            I have written a few things that I hope have encouraged you.  I have written a few things that have made some of you cry, good tears, not bad ones.  However, a friend told me once, “I want something that challenges me,” and I found myself agreeing with her, and that is what I have tried to do more than anything else.  If I keep saying that you are just fine the way you are, will you even bother to try to improve yourself? 
            As a result, I have lost readers.  It makes me think of Ahab who described the prophet Micaiah this way, “I hate him because he does not prophesy good concerning me, but evil,” 1 Kgs 22:8, and who once greeted Elijah, “Is it you, you troubler of Israel?”  18:17. Too many folks ignore the fact that they are causing their own problems.  Like Israel of old they want preachers who say, “Peace, peace, when there is no peace,” Jer 6:14.  Like the Galatians’ behavior toward Paul, they make those who simply want to help them wonder, “Have I therefore become your enemy because I tell you the truth?” Gal 4:16.
            Pats on the back are good.  They serve a purpose.  A sermon that makes you shed a tear for the sacrifice that saved you is a helpful thing.  It might just sustain you through a temptation that comes your way soon after.  I think that is one reason we remember that sacrifice every week. 
            But emotion fades.  That pumped-up feeling can deflate quickly when the realities of life puncture your balloon.  You must often sustain yourself with the knowledge that comes from the hard, and often tedious, work of Bible study.  You must have the word of God saturating your mind so much that it bubbles up and out of you just when you need it most.  You must have prayed often enough that a quick one automatically comes to your lips in difficult circumstances.  You must believe because you know logically and with sound evidence that these things are true, not because someone sent you a piece of feel good fluff that won’t stand up to an argument by a knowledgeable minister of Satan.
            Most of all, you must be willing to listen to those who love you and care about your eternal destiny, whether you want to hear what they say or not—and, in fact, whether they have your good will at heart or not.  God has often used the wicked to send his message.
            Don’t be afraid to be challenged.  Don’t be afraid to examine yourself for your faults.  It will work wonders for your soul.
 
Brethren, if a man be overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual, restore such a one in the spirit of meekness; considering yourself, lest you also be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Gal 6:1,2.
 
Dene Ward

On May 10, 1736, Charity Hospital opened in New Orleans.  Jean Louis, a French sailor and shipbuilder, left all his savings, which in that day amounted to about $1600, to build a hospital for the poor and uninsured people of New Orleans.  Located in the French Quarter, other hospitals were added to the conglomerate until by 1939 it was the second largest in the country with 2680 beds.  It was also one of the longest continuously operating hospitals in the United States until it was hit by Hurricane Katrina in 2005. 
            And in case you didn't know, there were no hospitals at all in the entire world until the advent of the Christian Era.  In the last part of the fourth century, Basil of Caesarea founded the first hospital, a Christian hospital.  Monastic orders added hospitals to their monasteries in the fifth and sixth centuries.  Missionaries went on to found the first hospitals in China and Japan in the 1800s.  It was not until the eighteenth century that hospitals began to be secularized.  Say what you will, Christianity brought many good things to a world that was focused on the survival and good of self.  Suddenly, someone else cared about you, even if you were poor or sick.  Try that in a pagan society.
            It has often been said that the church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints.  I am not sure we believe that.  I have seen too many unwelcoming saints in my lifetime, those who would limit where they even offer the gospel at all—we want nice, middle class, nuclear families with no big problems.  "They would really help our contribution," I have also heard people comment about certain visitors.  If that isn't a mercenary motive for spreading the gospel, I don't know the meaning of the word.  But what did Jesus say to the people of his own era with the same attitudes?  …Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners (Mark 2:17).
            And then we have our own problems that need some spiritual hospitalization, the ones we don't want to admit.  Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed… (Jas 5:16).  Have you ever attended an assembly that actually does this?  Not unless someone "goes forward," you haven't.  And why?  We're too proud for one thing, and we are also too scared—someone might run with our confession and use it against us.  "Did you know that so-and-so has this problem?"  And so we do not get the benefit of this humbling and also encouraging command—humbling to have to admit you are not perfect, and encouraging to see that others have the same issues and learn how they deal with them. 
            A spiritual hospital is for the sinner, the spiritually sick, the one who has to fight sin and temptation the way others fight infection and disease.  And as long as we refuse to admit it, we will never get the medicine we need, for we are indeed the needy.
 
Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Luke 15:7).                         
 
Dene Ward

Did you brush your teeth this morning?  Are you sure?  Do you really remember it, or are you remembering yesterday morning, or a morning last week?  How many other things do we do automatically, without thinking?  How about those scary times when you have been driving 10 or 15 minutes and suddenly realize you don’t remember that stop sign half a mile from the house or anything else between there and here?
            How about your spiritual life?  How many things do we do automatically?  We have a tendency to condemn that sort of thing, acting without thinking, as if it is hypocrisy, but is that always the case?
            I have always been in the same place every Sunday morning of my life, barring illness or injury.  No, the physical location may not be the same, but anyone who knows me, knows that on Sunday mornings I am assembling with my brothers and sisters in the Lord at wherever I happen to be.  There is never any question what I will do on Sunday morning if I am at all able.
            I used to worry about falling asleep in the middle of my final prayer of the day.  Surely, “pillow talk” is a close, intimate form of communication.  In fact, it is one thing we miss in our marriage—you cannot whisper to a deaf man.  So why should I be remorseful about falling asleep while having a comfortable, private moment with my Father?  Yes, there are times for more formal, reverential prayers, but who else would I rather be speaking to in my last conscious moments of the day, and why should He be upset with me if I feel so comfortable and easy with Him?  It’s not like it’s the only time we speak.  It is, in fact, second nature for me to do so.
            “Second nature” is defined as an acquired behavior or trait that is so long practiced as to seem natural or inborn.  It comes from an old proverb, “Custom (or usage) is a second nature,” which was first recorded in 1390. 
            “First” nature, then, would be things we do instinctively, that are inborn.  When we are born again into the kingdom of God, it becomes our responsibility to change our behavior, practicing it so frequently, that it eventually becomes our “second” nature, something we do automatically, with hardly any thought at all, but which we had to learn. 
            In the beginning of my life as a Christian I must consciously make decisions about how to react to others and how to order my new life.  Eventually, though, if I am practicing these things on a regular basis, that should become easier and easier.  How long have I been a Christian yet I still fly off the handle, still say things I should not say, still lower myself to the level of the world by seeking revenge over the silliest things in the most childish ways?  I must not be working hard enough to change those habits, for that is what they are, and they can be changed with enough effort, and with the help of Christ.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me, Phil 4:13.
            This does not mean there will no longer be moments of weakness, times when I am more susceptible to my old behaviors.  But if those old behaviors are still constant in my life, where is the transformation Paul talks about in Romans 12?  Why have I not become more closely conformed to the image of his son, (Rom 8:29)?  Something about me is supposed to have undergone a permanent change!
            Certainly, I must have my mind on my prayers and the words I sing.  I must listen consciously and carefully to those who seek to edify me.  My worship must not be rote.  But there is something to be said for operating on automatic pilot in my spiritual life. At some point it must reach past what I do, and become a matter of who I am.  If this never happens, then something is missing, and I need to find it—and fix it—soon.
 
Wherefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new, 2 Cor 5:17.
 
Dene Ward

As I look back over a long "ministry," I know that I have often failed to love the brothers, and that over differences that were not near as weighty as the doctrinal issues dealt with in First John.  If I were as bold as John, I expect I would call my treatment of them by its right name.  Some may think I am overstating the case.  I never used the word "hate" with reference to the brothers.  But the teachers John has specially in mind may not have used the word either; and the arrogance, self-righteousness, and contempt that we manifest toward others are really expressions of hatred.  We can be real clever at concealing ugly attitudes under cover of high-sounding, noble words. 

L. A. Mott, Jr., Thinking through John's Epistles