A long, long time ago as I sat in the car with my two little boys, waiting for their father to lock up the house before we left that morning, one of them, whose name will remain unmentioned, said, "I can't wait to be the Daddy.  Then I will get to do whatever I want!"  Teaching moment, I instantly thought, and proceeded to use it.
            "You know, Daddies really don't get to do whatever they want."
            "They don't?" he asked in a skeptical little voice.
            "Well, for example, when the weather turns cold in the middle of the night and we all curl up under the blankets in our beds staying warm, who gets up in the cold, shivers while he builds a fire in the wood stove, then stays up the half hour it takes to get it going and finally turned down before he can go back to bed?"
            "Daddy," he said a bit reluctantly, but I could tell he still hadn't gotten my point.
            "And who, when it's pouring down rain at church time, drops us off under the cover, then parks the car and runs through the rain getting all wet and cold?"
            "Daddy," not quite so loudly and with a slightly bowed head. 
            "And who is the one who never gets a Saturday off to watch cartoons like you do, but works to chop more wood so we can stay warm and works in the garden so we can eat?"
            An even softer, "Daddy."  He had finally gotten it, but just to make sure--
            "Daddies have to do whatever is the best thing to take care of their families, whether it's what they want to do or not."  Silence reigned in the car until Keith finally got in, and I never heard another thing about wanting to be the Daddy.
            What he was too young to understand was perhaps the most important thing.  When you are the head, the buck stops with you. 
            President Harry Truman was famous for having a sign on his desk that read, "The buck stops here."  He was referring to the old phrase about "passing the buck," which meant passing on the responsibility.  He knew that as President, he couldn't do that—he was the highest in the chain of command so he was responsible, no matter what happened or who else goofed.  In the home, it works the same way.  If the Father is the head of the house, he is also responsible for everything that goes on in that house.  A lot of men want to "pass the buck," blaming the mother, the schools, the church, society in general.  But God says, "Fathers…bring them up…"  The father may delegate a lot of the responsibility to the mother, but it is still up to him to make sure the job is being done and to help however he can.  He is the one God will call to account because he is the head—the buck stops with him in the home.  In the same way, in the church, the buck stops with the elders.  They will answer for every soul under their headship (Heb 13:17).
            Anyone who thinks headship is about getting to do whatever you want has the same problem as a six year old boy I used to know.  Too much self-centeredness and not enough maturity, even if you are forty years old or more.  That little boy eventually figured it out.  I sure hope those others do before the buck stops with them on Judgment Day.
 
And have you forgotten the exhortation that addresses you as sons? “My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord, nor be weary when reproved by him. For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.” It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons. Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it (Heb 12:5-11).
 
Dene Ward

David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the LORD.” And Nathan said to David, “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die.” 2Sam 12:13.
            I imagine you recognize the above scripture.  David’s statement immediately follows Nathan’s indictment, “Thou art the man.”  But do you know what immediately follows David’s confession?
            Because God through Nathan declares that David’s punishment will be the death of his child, David immediately begins a week long vigil asking God to spare his son.  “Who knows,” he says, “whether the Lord will be gracious to me that the child may live?”
            How many times have you found yourself sorrowing over a sin in your life, even after a heartfelt repentance, but then felt it presumptuous to even ask God for the smallest thing in your prayers that same day?  How many times have you said, “Not now.  I need to show some real fruit of repentance before I ask God for anything at all.”   How many times have you thought, “Surely He won’t listen to me yet?”  Or even worse, “How can God forgive me?”
            David knew better than that.  He not only recognized his sin and his utter unworthiness (Psalms 32 and 51), he recognized the riches of God’s grace.  We may sing about “Amazing Grace,” but David knew about it.  Maybe it takes just as much faith to believe about grace as it does to believe in God.  I know this:  if you deny that God will forgive you and answer your prayers, you may as well deny Him.
 
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. Eph 2:4-7

Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Doy Moyer.

When I make it about how I feel, what I like or don't like, how inconvenient things are to me, or how I shouldn't have to do x, y, or z because it's difficult, then I have to ask... where is the cross of Christ in a religion ordered after my preferences?

If I balk at submission, frown upon being asked to do something I don't want to, or feel like I am hampered from affirming my rights and asserting myself, then I must also ask ... where is the cross of Jesus in my thinking and in my life?

For whatever I feel, whatever I like or don't like, whatever sacrifices I must make or inconveniences I must suffer, I need to refocus on Jesus as He endured the cross for me, though He despised its shame. It wasn't easy, convenient, or self-affirming for Him as He treated others as more important than Himself. And if He, being God, can do that, who am I to assert myself over others and act as though everyone ought to bow to my preferences?

The cross is not the religion of the pursuit of personal desires and preferences. "Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves" (Phil 2:3).

I have a choice to make today. I can take up the cross and follow Jesus, or I can reject the cross in favor of my own rights and desires. That has always been the choice.
 
Doy Moyer
Doy's website is listed on the Recommended Sites page on the left sidebar.

I thought we had gotten past this.  A few years ago I even saw an article or two on the subject, but I guess not everyone read them.  So just the other day I saw someone make a comment to a godly, single woman in her late 20s that it was up to her to change her marital status and it was the only way for her to actually reach full maturity and understand responsibility in her life.  I know that young woman fairly well and I know she is probably more mature than the person who made that unwise and considerably unhelpful comment, no matter how long she has been married nor how many children she has.   

In the first place, how is it “up to her” to get married?  That kind of thinking is the reason so many young Christian women “settle,” winding up in inappropriate marriages to ungodly men, sometimes even abusive men.  Young ladies—it is far more dangerous to your soul to marry the wrong man than it is to stay unmarried.  Period.

And as for maturity?  I have seen so much whining on Facebook from young mothers who suddenly find they have to sacrifice for their children—give up some sleep, give up some “me time,” even give up their daily Starbucks--that I would be careful about tossing that accusation around lest it be thrown back in my face with evidence that would shame me.

The only thing the scriptures require of you is to be an obedient and faithful servant of God and you can do that regardless of your marital status.  Paul, in fact, seemed to believe you might even be a better servant if you stayed unmarried.  1 Corinthians 7 gets skimmed over to the point that all anyone sees is his admonition to stay single “for this present distress.”  That is not all he says about staying single.  “To the unmarried and widows I say that it is good for them to remain single as I am,” (v8) comes several paragraphs before “the present distress” even enters the discussion.

Jesus also said that marriage was not a requirement to be his disciple.  For there are eunuchs who have been so from birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let the one who is able to receive this receive it.  Matt 19:12.  No, women are not “eunuchs,” but then Jesus is speaking figuratively in that last clause—some people choose not to marry for the kingdom’s sake, including women.

The scriptures show us several women who made that decision.  Anna did get married as a young woman—but she became a widow after only 7 years, which means she might have been as young as 21, according to the marriage customs of the day, and then she chose to remain single for the rest of her long life.  She used that time to serve at the Temple.

You need to understand one thing before we look at these other women.  Women in the Bible are often identified as “the wife of” someone, not because a woman has no identity without a husband, but for the sake of identification.  There were at least 7 Marys in the New Testament.  How are you going to tell them apart without last names?  So we have Mary the wife of Cleophas.  We have Mary the mother of Mark.  We have Mary Magdalene, meaning she was from the village of Magdala. 

And we have Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus.  Never is a husband mentioned.  In fact, Luke tells us that the house where they lived was “Martha’s house” (10:38).  Understand this:  Jewish women did not inherit their husbands’ estate—the sons did.  That means Martha was wealthy enough on her own to have her own home.  And she used her home to house her family and open it to the Lord and his disciples.  It must have been a large, well-appointed house.
And that brings me to the Mary who allowed the church to meet in her home when Peter and James were thrown into prison (Acts 12:12), probably another widow who chose not to remarry.  Then there is Nympha who allowed the church in Laodicea to meet in her home (Col 3:15).  And let’s not forget the obvious—Lydia, who immediately upon her conversion insisted that Paul and Silas stay in her home, another case where no husband is in the picture.  Understand this—all three of these women put themselves in danger of persecution when they did this, but their conviction and commitment to the Lord went all the way.  Where is the “immaturity and lack of responsibility” in that?

We tell church members that they are responsible for what they do, that they cannot blame it on “the decision of the elders.”  It is up to me to know what they are doing and speak up if I think they are doing something sinful.  We tell our young people that they must develop their own faith, that they cannot get into Heaven on their parents’ coattails.  Guess what?  Wives must have their own faith too.  So why would anyone think that a single woman, or man for that matter, cannot have his or her own faith?  Why would we think that having a spouse is necessary to please God?

I know plenty of young single people—and some not so young any more—who are living full and godly lives, spending time in the Word, serving the church and their community.  That is what God will judge them on. 

…Each shall receive his own reward according to his own labor, 1 Cor 3:8.
[God} who will render to every man according to his works, Rom 2:6.

…And the dead were judged…according to their works, Rev 20:12.

Did you see a spouse in there anywhere?  Neither did I.  It is up to you what you do with your life.  Not being married does not make you a second class citizen of the kingdom.

I have nothing against marriage.  I have been married for 47 years.  My husband has helped me become a better Christian.  But don’t let anyone push you into marriage.  Don’t “settle” for someone who won’t make you a better servant of the Lord.
 
But I would have you to be free from cares. He that is unmarried is careful for the things of the Lord, how he may please the Lord: but he that is married is careful for the things of the world, how he may please his wife, and is divided. So also the woman that is unmarried and the virgin is careful for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and in spirit: but she that is married is careful for the things of the world, how she may please her husband. 1Cor 7:32-34
 
Dene Ward

If I whole-heartedly embrace only those fellow Christians who see things exactly the way I do, I will never embrace anyone, except, perhaps, a handful of weak-minded followers. 

The Sermon on the Mount, An Evangelical Exposition of Matthew 5-7, by D. A. Carson

The cup of blessing which we bless, is it not a communion of the blood of Christ? The bread which we break, is it not a communion of the body of Christ? seeing that we, who are many, are one bread, one body: for we are all partake of the one bread (1Cor 10:16-17).

His name was Joseph.  He came from an island off the coast, but had family in the city, and had come to worship at the two feast days, probably staying with his close relative Mary.  While he was there he saw and heard amazing things:  people speaking languages they had never studied, something that looked like fire but wasn’t, something that sounded like a windstorm but wasn’t, and a sermon that both astonished and convicted him.  He wound up staying in town, along with several thousand others who had become part of God’s new kingdom, the one they had been waiting for so long. 
            Despite their previous plans, they all chose to stay so they could learn, so they could grow, so they could mature before they went off on their own to spread the word in a world of sin, a world, they were told, that would reject them more often than accept them.  It wasn’t long till the practical needs of several thousand homeless people with no income could no longer be ignored. 
            Those who lived in the city helped as much as they could.  They took people in and collected funds to buy extra food and clothing.  Men were chosen to see to these needs.  Joseph helped as well, selling off extra property he owned, and donating the full amount to the group. 
            But that was not all he did.  Here was a man who excelled at encouragement, consolation, exhortation.  He was the first to give a pat on the back when it was needed, a hug, a kind word, a stern word, a teaching word, a “rah-rah” from the sidelines, a second chance to those whom others had given up on.  In fact, he became so good at it that the apostles gave him the nickname, “son of encouragement/consolation/exhortation,” whatever your version says in Acts 4:36.  And forever more in the scriptures, that is how we know him—Barnabas.  Did you even know that was not his real name?
            Whenever I think of that man, I wonder what nickname the apostles would give me?  Whiny Winnie?  Gossip Gail?  My-Way Marian?  Grumpy Gert?  Cold-hearted Catherine?  Hotheaded Harriet?   Wondering about that will give your character a real shot in the arm.  I’d much rather have something like Generous Joyce or Compassionate Kate. 
            Your assignment for today?  Try to figure out what they would call you.  Be honest.  You can always change that name, just by changing yourself.


A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold,  Prov 22:1.



Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

With nearly 2000 years of the history of God as Father, it is difficult for us to imagine the impact the gospel had on the ancient world.  Gospel means “Good News.”  To us, it is so familiar that we cannot even comprehend why they thought of it as astoundingly good.

My purpose is that we see the gospel the same way those ancient pagans did which will help us see why the gospel of Jesus exploded across the empire.

The pagan view of god was one reasoned by the philosophers such as Plato, Zeno, Aristotle, and others not so well known.  They felt that god must be far removed from this corrupt world and indifferent to it.  As a being of pure reason, how could god care what happened to men or even be aware of it.  In fact, the philosophers held matter, and especially emotion, to be so evil in relation to the purity of reason that god himself could not have created them.  The god was unemotional, implacable, unmovable (sort of like the god of Calvinism's predestination).  An emanation thousands of descents removed from god was the actual creator and then not a participant in creation.  Inasmuch as lesser gods than even he interacted with humans at all, they were capricious at best and vicious on a whim.  The major goal of the pagan sacrificial system was to get god to leave them alone.  A pagan’s life was spent hoping the gods never noticed him or at least did not care enough to lash out at him.

Into this world burst the gospel of a God who cares, A God who is good and sends good things, A God who loves and not only loves, but loved so much that he sent his Son.  Gods coming to be among men was not new in the mythologies, but they came to satisfy their own lusts and to toy with men.  God sent his Son to rescue men and elevate them and give them hope.  When this gospel was ratified by signs from heaven and not just magical wonders, but signs that healed and helped mortals, men flocked to the truth. 

Further, the gospel offered hope: hope now and hope to come.  What could an ordinary man be? He would live and work and die and, outside his city, who would know or care? The gospel offered meaning to life, to engage in cosmic warfare in the heavenlies.  A Christian was a warrior known by name to his Captain who strengthened him and rewarded him in life.  And in place of the dismal realms of the dead found in the mythologies, the gospel offered eternal life.  To be somebody--even kings and presidents are not remembered long--but God knows your name.  Men’s monumental achievements are forgotten in a generation and who cares anyway (except for the history test), but righteousness and holiness is a victory written in the Book of Life before the Father’s throne.

That gospel is still good news to the nobodies, to the downtrodden and forgotten, to the everyday man who will never be the footnote to a footnote in history.  Is that not who heard Jesus gladly?

"“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.  " (John 3:16).

Don't you long to forever be where that love is?
 
Keith Ward

Paul wrote a scathing letter to the Corinthian brothers and sisters.  This was a church with so many problems many might have refused to call them “sound” nowadays.  The root of every problem they had could probably be summed up as “immaturity.”  Paul, in fact, calls them babes.  You know what he would have said in our language?  “I could not speak to you as spiritual adults because you are a bunch of big babies!”  1 Cor 3:1.
            In chapter six these immature people were taking each other to court.  Paul tells them that this only hurts the church’s reputation in the world.  “What?” he says.  “Don’t you have any one wise enough to help you settle your disputes?  You are doing harm to the church and ought to be willing to suffer wrong instead of making God’s kingdom look bad” (chapter 6, more or less).
            I don’t think that only applies to legal matters.  This was recorded for us, and if we are as smart as we think we are, we ought to be able to apply it in all sorts of situations.  The problem is, we are Americans, and proud of it.  We have rights!  And we often insist on those rights, regardless of how it might make others view the body of which we claim to be a part.
            And then there are the situations that really have nothing to do with “rights,” just convenience or “feelings.”  I love the insurance commercial that says, “The drivers on the road are people.  So treat them like they are in your home, not in your way.”  I wonder if the ad man who came up with that is a Christian.  He sounds more like one than some I know who are. 
            So the next time the person ahead of you in the check-out line takes a long time writing a check, or when the person in the car ahead of you is not as brave as you are about making that left turn across traffic, “take wrong” and “be defrauded” of a few minutes in your day instead of letting him know how much he exasperates you. 
            What if either of those people walk into services Sunday morning, looking for the truth of God’s Word and recognizes you?  Exactly how has your “looking out for your rights” affected their hearts?  Do you think they are likely to be more or less receptive to the gospel? 
            What if, at a family gathering or a church potluck someone says something that you find insulting?  “Take wrong” or “be defrauded” of your feelings for the sake of the others there, including children whose fun might be ruined when you cause a scene and walk off in a huff, or a visitor someone has brought to the potluck who might now have a bad opinion of the church.  In all these cases, just like little children, we often see and care only how things affect us, and not how they will affect others.
            If we cannot yield the right of way when it only affects our convenience, what makes us think we can when it is a matter of legal rights?  If we cannot sacrifice a few precious feelings, we have already failed the test of whether we would sacrifice our lives.  He who is faithful in little is faithful in much; he who is unfaithful in little, is unfaithful in much, Luke 16:10.
            It takes maturity to yield, especially when you are in the right, especially when the other person is not looking out for your good, especially when you have to suffer wrong, or even just inconvenience, to do so.  It also takes maturity to remember this in the heat of the moment.  Would Paul call us a bunch of big babies, too? 
I say this to your shame.  Can it be that there is no one among you wise enough to settle a dispute between the brothers, but brother goes to law against brother, and that before unbelievers? To have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you.  Why not rather suffer wrong?  Why not rather be defrauded? But you yourselves [by this behavior] wrong and defraud—even your own brothers, 1 Cor 6:5-8.

 Dene Ward