I suppose it’s because of our age.  Or maybe it’s because we have lost all four of our parents.  We are the ones at the top of the escalator now.  No one in our immediate family stands between us and eternity.  We have just lost the last of my mother's siblings and only Daddy's baby brother is left.  All things being equal, we will be next to step off on the upper floor.
            Maybe that’s why we have spent a lot of time lately looking through old photographs.  What did we find?  Dogs and cats from puppy- and kitten-hood to grizzled muzzles and bent old bodies, baseball teams, science projects, birthday parties, and Christmas presents; old friends and their young children, who are now grown up like ours; school pictures of the boys, all the way to college graduation; even a few pictures of a couple of kids in 70s polyester, freshly married, with lots of hair and far skinnier than I thought possible.  Occasionally we looked at a picture of a toddler and said, “Are you sure that isn’t Silas?  Or Judah?”  Those always made us smile.
            We also found pictures of the old place from back when we first arrived.  A before and after picture probably wouldn’t do the monumental amount of work we did justice.  We turned an old watermelon field into a homestead.  Sometimes I wonder what will happen thirty or forty years from now.  Will someone else enjoy my jasmine vines and eat my muscadines?  Will they exclaim over the profusion of volunteer black-eyed Susans and the heat-hearty crepe myrtles?  Will they build a better house up under the oak grove in the middle of the property, just west of the firepit?  I used to dream of the time we could do that ourselves, but it will obviously never happen.
            One thing that surprised us the most were the live oaks.  When you see something every day you don’t notice how much it grows.  I have always thought of those trees as huge, but now they are twice the size around that they were 40 years ago, and many feet taller.  If I hadn’t looked at those pictures, I might never have noticed.
            Sometimes we do that to our brethren.  We tar them with a brush based upon their behavior decades before and never give them any credit for improving.  Can there be anything more discouraging to a brother in Christ? 
            Think today of your various brethren and how you would describe them to someone else.  What exactly are you basing that description on?  Something that happened yesterday, or something that happened twenty years ago?  Are you giving them any credit for growth?  “Judge righteous judgment,” Jesus reminded his disciples in John 7:24.  This poor judgment isn’t just a careless mistake of no consequence; it’s a matter of righteousness. 
            Maybe today would be a good time to reassess our opinions of our brethren.  Throw out the old photographs and take a new one.  Maybe—just maybe—they will do the same for us.
 
He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous:  both of them alike are an abomination to Jehovah, Prov 17:15.
 
Dene Ward

Up in North Florida, we heated with wood.  A thirty-six-year-old Ashley wood stove sat in the heart of our home—the kitchen and family room area.  Our boys grew up watching their father labor with a chainsaw, axe, and splitting maul, eventually helping him load the eighteen inch lengths of wood into the pickup bed and then onto the wood racks.  Every time a friend or neighbor lost a tree or several large limbs fell, the phone rang, and the three of them set off for a Saturday’s worth of work that kept us warm for a few days and the heating bill down where we could pay it.
            At first those small boys could only carry one log at a time, and a small one at that.  Wood is heavy if still unseasoned, and always rough and unwieldy.  By the time they were 10, an armful numbered two or three standard logs, even the lighter, seasoned ones.  They were 16 or older before they could come close to their father’s armload of over half a dozen logs, and grown men before they could match him log for log.  Even that is a small amount of wood.  In a damped woodstove, it might last half the night, but on an open fire barely an hour.
            So I laugh when I see pictures of an 8-10 year old Isaac carrying four or five “sticks” up Mt Moriah behind his father Abraham.  To carry the amount of wood necessary to burn a very wet animal sacrifice, Isaac had to have been grown, or nearly so, not less than 16 or 17, and probably older and more filled out.  In fact, in the very next chapter, Genesis 23, Isaac is 37 years old.  In chapter 21, his weaning, he is somewhere between 3 and 8, so all we can say for certain is he is between 3 and 37 at the time of his offering.  Our experience with wood carrying tells me that he was far older than most people envision.
            Do you realize what that means?  This may well have been a test of Abraham’s faith, but it also shows that Isaac’s faith was not far behind his father’s.  He could easily have over-powered his father, a man probably two decades north of 100, and gotten away.  He, too, trusted that God would provide, even as he lay himself down on that altar and watched his father raise his hand.
            How did he know?  Because he watched God provide everyday of his life.  He saw his father’s relationship with God, heard his prayers and watched his offerings, witnessed the decisions he made every day based solely on his belief in God’s promises, and his absolute obedience even when it hurt, like sending his brother Ishmael away (Gen 21:12-14). Isaac did not know a time when his family did not trust God, so he did too.  “God will provide” made perfect sense to him.
            When that young man carried that hefty load of wood up that mountain, he went with a purpose, based upon the example of his father’s faith and his Father’s faithfulness.  Would your children be willing to carry that wood?
 
The living, the living, he thanks you, as I do this day; the father makes known to the children your faithfulness. Isaiah 38:19
 
Dene Ward

Crepe myrtles are the super-plant of Florida summers.  Despite the heat, they bloom and seem to thrive, while everything else wilts and often dies.  The garden is over by the first of July, and the flower bed is far past its prime, but those crepe myrtles just keep on going, looking better than ever.  We had been searching for some at our North Florida home, the bush variety, not the trees, and hadn't found a one.  Nathan and Brooke gave us some shoots that had come up around theirs and we gratefully planted them, and kept on looking for those bushes.  I am still not sure there is actually a difference in the plant, as one article I read said, or if it is all about how it is pruned, but after five or six years we still hadn’t found what we wanted, and that fall noticed the seed pods on our transplants.  We looked at each other and said, “Well, I’ve never heard of doing it before, but why not plant those seeds in some nursery pots?”
            We did, and guess what?  In spite of the fact that we had never heard of doing it before, they grew!  The next spring we transplanted 8 one foot high crepe myrtles from that nursery pot experiment, all of which are blooming just fine in the Florida summer.        
            Haven’t you heard it?  Someone comes up with an idea for spreading the gospel—one that is not beyond the bounds of God’s authority—but someone else pipes up, “I never heard of doing that before,” and expects that to be the end of the discussion.  In fact it often is, especially when prefaced by “Why, I’ve been a Christian for forty years and I have never...”  I wonder how many things would never have been done if everyone had that notion? 
            And the king made from the algum wood supports for the house of the LORD and for the king's house, lyres also and harps for the singers. There never was seen the like of them before in the land of Judah, 2 Chronicles 9:11
            The throne had six steps, and at the back of the throne was a calf's head, and on each side of the seat were armrests and two lions standing beside the armrests, while twelve lions stood there, one on each end of a step on the six steps. The like of it was never made in any kingdom, 1Kgs 10:20.
            And because of all your abominations I will do with you what I have never yet done, and the like of which I will never do again. Ezekiel 5:9.
            He has confirmed his words, which he spoke against us and against our rulers who ruled us, by bringing upon us a great calamity. For under the whole heaven there has not been done anything like what has been done against Jerusalem, Daniel 9:12.
            God didn’t seem to have any trouble accepting Solomon’s unique adornments for his throne and for the Temple.  He wasn’t above using punishments the like of which no one had ever seen before.  He certainly didn’t mind confounding the world by sacrificing His Son for our sins.  Aren’t you glad?
            We might be in bad company if “I’ve never heard of doing that before” becomes the source of authority for our actions. 
            As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, "Never was anything like this seen in Israel." But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons," Matthew 9:32-34.
            Jesus didn’t fit their preconceived notions so they accused Him of consorting with the Devil.  I’ve heard Christians come close when someone suggested something new to reach the lost, especially if it cost any money. 
            God tells us every word and action should be by His authority, not by whether we’ve heard of it or not.  I wouldn’t have any crepe myrtles if we had followed that dictum—and none of us would have a hope of salvation.
 
For from of old men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen a God besides thee, who works for him that waits for him, Isaiah 64:4.
 
Dene Ward

We don’t like to think about being a prisoner.  As Americans we bridle against anything that affects our freedom, our “rights.”  As Christians we proclaim that we have “freedom in Christ,” Gal 2:4; 5:1,13.  Maybe we were once “slaves of sin,” Rom 6:16-18, but no longer—we are free, free, free!
            Let’s just assume that we are free from sin, that we overcome more often than not, that it certainly isn’t a habit any longer.  Oh, if that were the only thing we needed to free ourselves of. 
            Far too many I know are still slaves of others’ opinions, of some rigid sense of dignity, and of an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy when confronted once again with the mercy of a loving God. 
            Being inordinately worried about what others think is simply a brand of egotism.  We are placing our own expectations of them on a pedestal.  We are afraid of what they think about us, when they probably don’t think about us one way or the other.  Yet we hear one statement, view one action, and suddenly we concoct a whole scenario about their opinions of us that may or may not be—in fact, probably are not—true.  It rolls around in our minds over and over to the point that we cannot sleep, cannot eat, or we even make ourselves sick over it.  What did Jesus say to Peter when he asked about John’s future?  “What is that to you?”  We would do well to remember that line far more often than we do.  Stop being taken prisoner by others.  Fulfill your obligations to them, but do not try to take responsibility for theirs.  “What is that to you?”
            And then we find ourselves in the prison of dignity.  I vividly remember walking through the Philadelphia Zoo on the first weekend of our honeymoon.  It started to rain, and I was busy trying to find shelter “so my hair won’t get wet,” I told Keith. 
            “Who cares if your hair gets wet?” he asked as he grabbed my hand and we went running down the sidewalk in the rain.  We found our way back to our midtown hotel drenched, but laughing all the way.  When your dignity keeps you from enjoying life, from playing with your children, from worshipping your God, it’s time you let yourself out of prison.
            But the most ironic slavery we have placed ourselves in is also the saddest.  Here we have a God who loves us enough to die for us, yet we tie ourselves up in knots over our inability to repay Him.  Instead of joy over our salvation, we cringe when we think of our unworthiness.  We try and try and try to be perfect, always knowing it’s an impossible task, and so “hope,” instead of being the “full assurance” the New Testament teaches us, becomes a miserable “maybe.”  We find ourselves praying that when we die we will see it coming so we can fire off one last frantic prayer for forgiveness. 
            Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom, 2 Cor 3:17.  Funny how some of these people who spend so much time worrying about whether they “do” enough for the Lord are some of the very ones who talk the most about the Holy Spirit.  My Bible says their fretting is a sure sign they don’t have the Spirit. 
            The New Testament plainly teaches that we are to have self-control.  That doesn’t just apply to alcohol, drugs, gluttony, sexual immorality, and the other “fleshly” sins.  For whatever overcomes a person, to that he is enslaved, 2 Pet 2:19.  Did you catch that?  It can be anything, whether sinful or not.  A relationship, an attitude, a habit, your upbringing, your past mistakes--whatever controls your life makes you its slave—its prisoner. 
            Let it go.  There is truly only one Master worth serving.
 
"All things are lawful for me," but not all things are expedient. "All things are lawful for me," but I will not be enslaved by anything, 1 Corinthians 6:12.
 
Dene Ward

God must have loved gardens.  That first garden was used as the ideal all through the scriptures, the utopia that everyone longed for.  The Messianic kingdom is referred to as the restoration of the Garden of Eden in Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and other prophets. And the land that was desolate shall be tilled, instead of being the desolation that it was in the sight of all who passed by. And they will say, 'This land that was desolate has become like the garden of Eden, and the waste and desolate and ruined cities are now fortified and inhabited.' Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the LORD; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the LORD; I have spoken, and I will do it. (Ezekiel 36:34-36).
            And why was Eden perfect? Everything man needed was in that first garden, trees and plants to sustain his physical life, including the Tree of Life.  God also gave man the companionship of a woman, for He said, it is not good that man should be alone, 2:18.  He gave him work to do, tending that garden, and every evening He came to walk with man.  Surely that marvelous fellowship was the greatest need He fulfilled.
            Revelation 22 depicts another garden, one that despite my growing belief that the majority of the descriptions in that book are about the victorious church, I cannot help but see in a final heavenly fulfillment.  We will be back where the Tree of Life spreads its branches, 22:2.  We will be with other servants of God, “those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life” 21:27.  We will have work—to serve and worship our Creator for Eternity, 22:3,8,9.  And once again we will be in fellowship, and proximity, to God—His throne is there and we shall “see his face” 22:1,4.  God’s plan will have come full circle, from that first garden to an eternal one.
            But there was another garden, one right in the middle of it all—Gethsemane.  It had some of the same characteristics.  The disciples had fellowship with each other and with their Lord.  And they had work to do.  “Watch with me,” Jesus told them, Matt 26:38.  It had been a long day, one full of surprises and mysterious statements by their Master.  They were tired, wanting only to rest, and so “their eyes were heavy,” and they slept, 26:48.  When the Lord needed them most, they failed Him.
            That garden was the reason we have hope of an Eternal Garden.  In a sense, we are living our lives in that middle garden with the Lord.  “Watch and pray that you enter not into temptation,” he told those men, Mark 14:38, adding at the end, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”  My flesh may indeed be weak, but too often my spirit is lacking as well.  Life can wear you out.  Trials seem to come in one long succession, like a string of ugly beads.  All you want to do is have one day of peace, one day when something goes right, when it seems like the world isn’t against you and justice will prevail. 
            It is hard, and your Lord knows it.  He sat in that same garden you are in now, awaiting things you will probably never have to experience.  And he did it so you can have hope of a garden where everything will finally be right, where you can rest and “there will be no curse any more.”
            But for now, you must watch, you must endure just a little while longer.  I have finally lived long enough to know that it isn’t that long a “while” till it’s over, and then there shall be night no more; and they need no light of lamp, neither light of sun; for the Lord God shall give them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever. 
            And, once again, we will walk in the garden with God.
 
He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him that overcomes, to him will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the Paradise of God. Revelation 2:7.                                                                                  
 
Dene Ward

I was the only teacher in the county who could do it.  I was the only teacher in the county who had ever done it herself.  It’s the reason I charged more than any other teacher in the county:  I alone could prepare a student for a college audition.
            The school of music is not like most other colleges in a university.  You can walk into practically any other with only your high school education and do fine.  You can say, “Turn me into a teacher,” and they can.  You can say, “Prepare me for law school,” and they can.  You can say, “Make me a nurse,” and they can.  But if you are not already a musician of at least some caliber with as many years of private teaching behind you as possible, the school of music will not take you.
            My college audition consisted of two tests, a performance, and an interview.  One test was four pages of written theory that taxed my knowledge to the limit—keys, chords, terminology, the ability to analyze a page of written music and then writing four part harmony, both notated and not—in other words, writing out music that was playing in my head instead of my hands.
            Another was aural theory.  What’s that, you ask?  “Given a steady beat, notate this rhythm,” at which point the examiner tapped out a complex pattern containing every different kind of note he could fit in, plus dots and triplets.  Then followed a melody of which I was only told the first note and had to write the rest from ear alone, including correct rhythm—eight bars worth.  Then followed several chord progressions which I had to identify by ear, half a dozen or so. 
            Then the performance:  a major original piece by a recognized composer.  Mine was the Chopin Polonnaise in C minor, all 7 pages from memory.  But that wasn’t all.  I had to perform “on demand” any of the 13 major scales, four octaves in sixteenth notes at an appropriate tempo with the correct fingering, and all three forms of any of the 13 minor keys the same way, with accompanying cadences, using common tone progression.  Which were “demanded”?  E Flat Major—not too bad—and F Sharp Minor (think, girl, think!).
            And the interview?  Who is your favorite composer and what do you like about his music?  (Translation:  do you know anything besides how to play it?)  Who have you played?  (Are you a one-hit wonder—the pet student of your studio teacher because you were the only one who could learn the first movement of the Pathetique Sonata; otherwise “Fur Elise” was the pinnacle of your student career?)             
            What’s the point of all this?  When James says, “Be not many teachers, my brethren, knowing we shall receive heavier judgment,” (3:1), he wasn’t just blowing smoke through his hat.  When God listed the teaching objectives in His Son’s body, he included the perfecting of the saints, ministering, building up the body, attaining unity, becoming knowledgeable, becoming stable, learning to love, and growing up to the same height as Christ (Eph 4:11-16).  That’s what he expected teachers in the church to accomplish with their students.  If you think those do not apply to you, especially not if you only teach the preschool class, you are sorely mistaken.
            The preparation for my college audition began at my first lesson—when I learned the fundamentals of keeping a steady beat, playing one note with one hand and one note with the other, back and forth, back and forth, while my teacher played an accompaniment that made it sound like real music.  You are doing the same thing when you teach a two year old, “God made me.”  Everything else will lie on that one fundamental principle.
            How are your women’s classes?  Are you really studying the Word of God or just exchanging opinions?  Do you know more today than you did last year?  Have you changed your mind about anything?  And the most telling of all—do you handle life better than you used to?  Has your behavior in certain circumstances completely changed based on the growth of your character, or do you still fight the same old battles against sin, and most of the time, lose?
            All Bible teachers should be preparing their students to pass one final audition.  If you think those old “read a verse and comment classes” were doing that, maybe you should think twice about your ability—and responsibility—as a teacher of the Word of God.  You are not there to fill the time, to check off the fact that this church has today met it’s obligation to “study.” 
            Teaching the Word is an awesome and frightening privilege.  I pray about it before I do it because God will hold me accountable when the time comes for the audition.  If my students don’t pass, then neither do I.
 
Let a man so account of us, as of ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God. Here, moreover, it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful. 1 Corinthians 4:1-2
 
Dene Ward

            The world has cherry picked through this, the most challenging sermon Jesus ever preached, and turned it into a candy-coated religion.  This book will help you feel the impact it must have had on the crowd who listened so long ago on that Galilean hillside.  Far from preaching a health and wealth gospel, Jesus tells us that we have to completely empty ourselves, completely trust God for both our physical and spiritual welfare, and be ready to face disapproval and even persecution for doing it.  He explains exactly what God's command to love Him and your neighbor means in terms of cost—everything!  And it castigates those who would try to qualify these commandments in order to soften their demands. 
            The book is laid out in short, easy to read and digest segments.  In fact, it might be a good idea to read one at a time, or perhaps two or three that continue the subject at hand, and do some thinking before going on to the next.  It certainly lends itself to that method.  It could also make an excellent class study with thought questions and discussions, as well as other pertinent scriptures. 
            Invitation to a Spiritual Revolution: Studies in the Sermon on the Mount, has been reprinted by DeWard Publishing Company.

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
When Jesus was casting out demons, some said that he did so by the prince of demons (Lk 11:14-26). First, Jesus answered them logically, if that is true, then the kingdom of Satan is in a civil war and cannot stand. Next he attacked with what does that say about your sons? (We know of at least 82 who had this power). Finally, he reveals his mission and the purpose for casting out demons. He has come to tear down Satan's house and take all his possessions and power.
 
Then, he challenges with the consequences of what we decide about his mission. First, He leaves no middle ground: One is either for him or against him. Getting rid of your demons leaves your house empty. He demands you be filled with him to prevent the return of worse demons. As stated later in the context, "If your eye be single, your whole body shall be full of light (11:34).
 
Obviously, this leaves the long ago baptized, pew sitting church member in serious jeopardy! Further, one cannot be 80% or 90% for Jesus. We are either empty or full. As Jesus said in 16:13, "You cannot serve two masters…You cannot serve God and mammon" (mammon = yourself, security, possessions, etc.).
 
As adamant as Jesus was about this all or nothing commitment to him, we are not surprised to find the Apostles living and preaching the same. Though all the New Testament teaches us to put away wickedness in every form, it appears that more space is giving to filling ourselves with right things than exorcising our demons, whether they be addictions, sexual fantasies, greed, ambition, etc.
 
"Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts…Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly." (Col 3:15-16).
"Which is Christ in you, the hope of glory" (Col 1:27).
"No more I that live but Christ lives in me" (Gal 2:20).
"Present your bodies …holy, acceptable to God" (Rom 12:1-2).
"The fruit of the spirit is…" (Gal 5:22-24).
"Add to your faith virtue…..if you do these things you will never stumble" (2Pet 1:5-11).
And these are only a few of such passages.
 
Paul encouraged Christians to follow his example in leaving all things behind in the pursuit of "the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus" (Phil 3:14). Doing "the best I can" leaves a swept empty house. Rather, we must stretch for all we can do through the help and grace of God.
 
Beware lest, through your lack of growth and lack of diligence and striving, you be filled with seven worse demons.
 
Follow after peace with all men, and the sanctification without which no man shall see the Lord. (Heb12:14).
 
Keith Ward

It was one of those recuperating days I have had so many of the past few years, so I sat in my lounger outside, the early morning autumn breeze ruffling my hair, a sweet little dog snuffling for a pat at my side, looking out over our domain, such as it is.  The east sun filtered through the woods fifty yards in front of me, not yet high enough to cause me any trouble. 
            I had carried a pair of binoculars to do a little bird-watching, but saw on the northeast corner of the property what looked like a giant orange bloom.  So I lifted those heavy lenses and got a surprise.  The bloom did not really exist.  What I saw was the sun shining on a clump of dried out pine straw hanging on a low, dead limb.  I pulled down the binoculars and looked again.  I much preferred the big orange bloom.
            Then I started looking around and saw some more.  The dull green leaves near the top of the tree glinted like small mirrors in the few rays of sun that had pierced through to them.  Even the gray Spanish moss resembled icicles.  I knew in a few minutes the effect would all be gone.  The sun would have risen high enough not to perform these magic tricks.  Still, it reminded me of something important.
            All by myself I am nothing, I can do nothing, and I have nothing to hope for.  But the light of the gospel changes everything.  Through that light, we are able to see the glory of Christ and believe (2 Cor 4:3-6.)  When we are raised from the waters of baptism, God’s glory gives us the power to walk “in newness of life” (Rom 6:4).  We transform ourselves into the image of His Son by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2, 8:29).  When the glory of the Lord shines on us through our submission to his gospel, what looks plain and ordinary becomes beautiful, what looks dead and repulsive becomes glorious.  That’s us we’re talking about—you and me.  We can be beautiful.
            Look at your life today.  Would someone see a beautiful bloom, a sparkling mirror, a glittering icicle?  They will only if you have allowed that light inside you, if you have let it have its way, transforming you into the person God meant you to be from the beginning.  Some will not do this.  They fight it, and offer excuses of all sorts.  “I’m only human after all.”  “No one is perfect.”  “Someone has to have common sense around here and not be such an innocent babe!” “It’s my right after all.”  None of those will give anyone a beautiful view of a child of God.
            Peter reminds us, As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 1 Peter 1:14-16.  If we are not submissive to his will, we will never be transformed to his image.  We will look like nothing but dried out pine straw on a dead limb, and all the excuses in the world will never change it. 
            “What would Jesus do?” may be an old denominational catch-phrase, but is it any different than, “Be ye holy as I am holy?”  God desires nothing more than for us to be exactly like Christ, “conformed to the image of his son” Rom 8:29, “that you might follow in his steps” 1 Pet 2:21.  If you find yourself looking through the world’s binoculars and seeing nothing but your old self, the light of the gospel has not reached your heart.
            Conform yourself today.  In every aspect of your life, in every action you take, and every word you speak, “be ye holy in all your conduct.”  You can do it, or God wouldn’t have asked it of you.
 
But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit. 2 Cor 3:18.
 
Dene Ward

We don’t travel a lot, but when we do we try to find a group of brethren who share our faith.  Most people call this looking for a “sound church.”  After several unsettling experiences with so-called “sound churches” on the road, I started studying the phrase.  Guess what?  You won’t find it anywhere in the Bible, not in any of the nine translations I checked.
            I have already mentioned a time when we forgot our “church clothes” and had to attend services in jeans and flannel shirts—camp clothes--and the cold reception we received.  Another time I was in a city far away from home for a scary surgery.  We remembered our church clothes, but it didn’t seem to make a bit of difference.  We walked in the front door, went down the middle aisle and sat two-thirds of the way down—Keith must be able to see faces in detail so he can lip-read.  We were at least 10 minutes early.  No one approached us, nor nodded, nor even looked our way.  Finally the woman in front of us heard Keith say, “I can’t believe no one has even greeted us,” and turned around to introduce herself.  After services we slowly made our way down the aisle surrounded shoulder to shoulder by the (still unwelcoming) crowd, stopped at a tract rack for a minute or two, and finally walked out the door before the preacher finally came out calling us to say hello.  It wasn’t like we didn’t give him plenty of time.  No one else even bothered.
            Contrast that to the time we entered a building thinking that we probably didn’t agree entirely with this group because of a few notices hanging on the wall, but were greeted effusively by every single member the minute they saw us.  We were even invited to lunch, while at the previous church I mentioned, living in a hotel between dangerous procedures, no one even asked if we needed any help.
            So when my recent study of faith came upon a passage in Titus about being “sound in the faith,” I decided to check the entire context and see what that actually meant.  Since I must be brief here, I hope you will get your Bible and work through it with me and see for yourself.
            First, the phrase applies to individuals, not a corporate body.  Titus 1:10-16 gives us a detailed and complete picture of someone who is not “sound.”  They are the ones the elders in verses 5-9 are supposed to “reprove sharply” so they may be “sound in the faith” v 13.  Look at those seven verses (10-16) and you will see a list that includes these, depending upon your version:  unruly, vain talkers, deceivers, false teachers, men defiled in mind and conscience, unbelievers (who obviously claim otherwise), those who are abominable, disobedient, and deny God by their works, being unfit for good works. 
            The context does not end just because the next line says, “Chapter 2.”  In that chapter Paul clearly defines what “sound in the faith” means, beginning unmistakably with “Speak the things that befit sound doctrine, that the older men…” and going straight into the way people should live.  Read through it.  Everything he tells the older men and women, the younger men and women, and the servants to do and to be, fit somewhere in that previous list (“un-sound”) as an opposite. 
            If people who are unruly are un-sound, then people who are temperate, sober-minded, and reverent in demeanor are sound.  If people who are defiled in mind and conscience are not sound, then people who are chaste, not enslaved to wine (or anything else), and not thieves are sound.  If people who deny God by their works and are even unfit for good works are not sound, then people who are kind, sound in love, and examples of good works are sound.  Go all the way through that second chapter and you can find a (opposite) match for everything in the first.
            Now let’s point out something important:  if being a false teacher makes you unsound, then being a teacher of good and having uncorrupt doctrine does indeed make you sound, but why do we act like that is all there is to it?  You can have a group of people who believe correctly right down the line but who are unkind, unloving, un-submissive, impatient, and who do nothing but sit on their pews on Sunday morning with no good works to their name and they are still not a “sound church!”  Not according to Paul. Nine out of the ten things on that “un-sound” list have nothing to do with doctrine—they are about the way each individual lives his life.
            I am reminded of Jesus’ scalding words to the Pharisees in Matthew 23:23:  Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith: but these you ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Yes, our doctrine must be sound, but doesn’t it mean anything to us that Paul spends far more time talking about how we live our lives every day? 
            Don't get me wrong.  The notes of the bugler do make a difference.  It wouldn't do at all if he played "Taps" when the general was calling for a "charge."  For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle? (1Cor 14:8).  But the bugle is not the weapon of choice for a battle.  If the church is made up of people, then a sound church must be made up of sound people who live sound lives.  That is the weightier matter of the law of Christ.
 
For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified: Romans 2:13.
 
Dene Ward