Have you ever apologized to anyone?  Let me rephrase that.  Have you ever apologized in the Biblical way?  You mean there is a difference?  I think there is a huge one.
              The first two definitions of “apology” in my Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary are 1} a formal justification; a defense; and 2) an excuse.  The original word is Greek, apologia.  Paul used it in Acts 22:1 and 25:16 when he made his “defense” at his trials.  Understand this, in no way was he admitting wrong, and none of us would have expected him to.  He was in trouble for preaching the gospel.  He was defending himself, giving “a formal justification.”  That is not the kind of apology I am talking about either.
             Yet that is exactly the way most of us apologize—we defend ourselves.  We say, “I’m sorry you got hurt,” placing the fault on the other person, instead of “I’m sorry I hurt you.”  We say, “If I did anything wrong, I’m sorry,” as if to call in question the one we are “apologizing” to.  We give excuses for why we did what we did to make sure everyone knows “it wasn’t my fault.”  We do everything we can to avoid admitting wrong.
              Webster finally gives this as his last definition:  “An admission of error accompanied by regret.”  More to our point, this is the definition Jesus gives:  if he sin against you seven times in the day, and seven times turn again to you, saying, I repent; you shall forgive him.  Luke 17:4.  If he “turn again to you saying, I repent.”  No defense, no excuses, no justification, just “I was wrong.”  Have you ever apologized that way?
              I daresay most of us have not.  Yet that is exactly the way we are to apologize to God too.  Have you? Or do we, in our prayers, justify ourselves with phrases about being “only human,” or about “how hard it is, Lord,” or even “how mean he was to me first—you know he provoked me, Lord.”  What God expects from us is change for the better, Vine’s definition of the word.  That necessarily involves admission of guilt.  If not, why would we need to change?  And that is the same word Jesus used in Luke 17: 4.  “I repent,” plain and simple.
              So I ask you again, have you ever truly apologized in the Biblical sense, what Jesus called “repentance?”  The next time you begin with, “I’m sorry,” just stop after that second word.  Don’t allow yourself excuses or justification.  Just apologize.  You cannot correct error in your life without admitting it first, and once it’s been admitted, if you truly are a child of God, the responsibility to change cannot help but affect you.
 
God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble, James 4:6, 1 Peter 5:5.
 
Dene Ward
 

When my boys were young they were enchanted with a movie called “The Never-Ending Story.”  You see, when the movie ended it started all over again, and then again, and again. 
            Maybe it’s because I am a woman that I never saw the appeal.  All I could think of was housework—laundry that needs washing over and over, shirts that need ironing again and again, dust that keeps settling, meals that need cooking three times a day.  Oh for something that when I finish with it will stay finished!
            I think the Old Testament Jews understood a little.  Have you ever read the complex procedure for the Day of Atonement?  You should sometime, and then think about the promise of a forgiveness that lasts forever.
            Every year the sins that were forgiven the year before were once again remembered against God’s people, and every year the pile grew bigger and bigger.  At least when I do the laundry, I know a shirt that I washed and ironed will not be back in the hamper until it has once again been worn.  Imagine if everything you ever washed got dirty again the next week just because clean would not stay clean! 
            The first century Jewish Christians surely appreciated the blessing of forgiveness far better than we can.  They had been waiting for that promise to be fulfilled for hundreds of years.  Behold the days come, says Jehovah, that I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah, not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers in the day that I took them by the hands to bring them out of the land of Egypt…But this is the covenant that I will make…says Jehovah:  I will put my law in their inward parts and in their heart will I write it, and I will be their God and they shall be my people, and they shall teach no more every man his neighbor and every man his brother saying, Know Jehovah, for they shall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, says Jehovah; for I will forgive their iniquity and their sins will I remember no more, Jer 31:31-34.
            A high priest was coming who would offer himself, a perfect sacrifice that would cleanse each sin forever.  That pile of guilt would no longer build up on each one, becoming heavier and heavier, needing yet another sacrifice every year.  Think what that must have meant to a people who through the years had seen oceans of blood pouring down that manmade altar, knowing that next year, the same thing must happen again, not only for new sins, but for exactly the same old ones as well.  What a relief.
            And what a relief for us to know that God forgives and forgets, and that because of that wonderful blessing we can enjoy another “Never-Ending Story” that will remind us of a blessing, instead of a burden. 
 
And they indeed have been made priests many in number because by death they are hindered from continuing; but he, because he abides forever, has his priesthood unchangeable.  Wherefore also he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, seeing he ever lives to make intercession for them.  For such a high priest became us, holy, guileless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and made higher than the heavens, who needs not daily, like those high priests to offer up sacrifices, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people, for this he did once for all, when he offered up himself,. Heb 7:23-27.
 
Dene Ward

Robert Frost, one of the greatest American poets, was born on March 26, 1874, in San Francisco.  After his father died of tuberculosis, 11 year old Frost moved with his mother and younger sister to Lawrence, Massachusetts.  He spent many years teaching and living in Massachusetts and Vermont, dying in Boston on January 29, 1963.
              Frosts' most famous poems include "The Mending Wall," "Nothing Gold Can Stay," "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening," and the one I want to focus on today, "The Road Not Taken."
 
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
 
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
 
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
 
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
 
              Forks in the road--life is full of them.  As a Christian, you will likely take the one Frost recommended—the one less traveled by--and yes, it will make all the difference in your life.  What choices exactly are we talking about?
              Where will you go to school?
              Will you marry and if so, then whom?
              What career will you choose?  Or will you decide to be a stay-at-home mom and then a servant of the church after your children have grown and left the nest?
              Where will you live?
              Will you take this promotion?
              With which congregation of God's people will you choose to serve?
              In what ways will you serve?
              By the time they reach my age, most people believe the forks are all behind them.  All that remains is the final leg of the journey, one about which we may have very little choice, especially due to health.
              They couldn't be more wrong.  There remains one huge choice we must make:  how will we allow the past circumstances of life to affect us?
              I've seen older people become bitter and unsympathetic because of the "raw deal" they believe they were handed.  But I've seen others with just as trying ordeals radiate a quiet, compassionate wisdom.  One permeates the air with the fetid reek of selfishness while the other offers comfort and encouragement.  They may have both suffered great losses and disappointments—of such is life—but only one has "the mind of the spirit," recognizing that this life is not the be-all and end-all, that the first moment of Eternity will make it seem as nothing.  And that final fork in the road will be her choice to continue serving God by leading others to the same fork, rather than driving them away with spiteful comments, cynicism, and complaints.
              This fork may be your last chance.  Even if you chose poorly all along the way, you can use your failures to help others avoid them.  One right choice at the end can still make your life useFUL instead of useLESS.
 
Again, though I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely die,’ yet if he turns from his sin and does what is just and right, if the wicked restores the pledge, gives back what he has taken by robbery, and walks in the statutes of life, not doing injustice, he shall surely live; he shall not die. None of the sins that he has committed shall be remembered against him. He has done what is just and right; he shall surely live. (Ezek 33:14-16)                                                           
 
Dene Ward

We have had a cat more often than not in the past twenty years.  All of them were pretty good about doing their work, as most barn cats are—it comes naturally to them to keep the rodents out of the feed sacks.  But because they are outdoor cats, they do not have quite the same affinity for human contact as house cats.  In fact, it seems that the less they have to do with us, the better they do their job.
            So when it comes time to take this sort of cat to the vet for its shots and check-ups, the process is a real adventure.  I remember once, when we put the cat in a box we had carefully aerated, drove 20 miles to the vet, opened the box and there was no cat.  We drove back home and found her sitting on the steps, licking her paws, and looking at us with a look of disdain.  “Where have you been?” she seemed to be saying with a smirk.  We still don’t know how she got out.  Her name was Jezebel.  Maybe that explains it.
            When we got Jasper we invested in a carrier.  The first time I used it, I discovered that this was still not going to be easy.  I sat on the porch and called him.  He inched his way forward and I just held out my hand until he finally relaxed and let me pet him.  After a minute or so, I picked him up and tried to put him in the crate. Immediately, all four sets of claws sprang out and grasped the edges of the opening.  It looked like a cartoon as I tried pushing him in while he hung on to the doorframe for dear life.  No way was this cat going in there willingly.
            Then I got smart, I thought, and put some food in the carrier.  Jasper smelled it immediately, and stuck his head inside.  I waited patiently as more and more of him disappeared into the box, then quickly shut the door; but somehow in that tiny space, he managed to turn around and slip out before I could get the clasp fastened. 
            By then, he was getting suspicious.  He was too leery to even come near me, so I waited a bit.  About a half hour later I grabbed a towel and laid it on the porch floor next to me.  By then, he was feeling generous again and sauntered up to me for a scratch.  After a few minutes, he lay next to me on the towel.  With a quick motion, I flipped the towel over his whole body and dumped him unceremoniously into the upended carrier,  The little bit of time it took for him to get his claws out of the towel gave me enough time to shut the door without him escaping.  Finally we went to the vet.
            Wouldn’t you know it, when we got to the vet, he wouldn’t come out of the carrier?  The vet had to dump him out.  And when she was finished with him and let him go, he scrambled back in as fast as he could.  Little stinker.
            In spite of his unwillingness to go to the vet, it kept him healthy.  The shots still worked, even though he really didn’t want them.  It doesn’t work that way with righteousness.  You can do things that look like righteousness all day long, but if you are doing them from a bad heart, they won’t do a thing for your soul.
            We seem to have a mistaken idea about the Old Law, that all they had to do were “right things,” and that their hearts did not matter.  Yet over and over you find instances where the heart most certainly did matter.  Take from among you an offering unto Jehovah; whosoever is of a willing heart, let him bring it, Ex 35:5.  That is just one example among many.
            Doesn’t it mean more to you that Lord offered himself for us willingly?  No one takes [my life] away from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again. John 10:18.  How much would it mean in terms of love if he had done it because he was forced to? 
            That is how God looks at us too.  How much more does it mean to you when your child brings you a wildflower he picked in the field “just because” than when he sends that expensive arrangement on Mother’s Day, a day when the world practically forces it on him?  A buttercup on a Tuesday is far superior to a dozen roses the second Sunday in May.
            God will not force us to obey him, much less love him.  He has never accepted the letter of the law without the heart.
 
And you, Solomon my son, know the God of your father and serve him with a whole heart and with a willing mind, for the LORD searches all hearts and understands every plan and thought.  If you seek him, he will be found by you, but if you forsake him, he will cast you off forever, 1 Chron 28:9.
 
Dene Ward

Silas is afraid of dogs.  Who can blame him?  Most are as big or nearly as big as he is and the ones that aren’t have an attitude that is.  Dogs have big mouths full of pointy teeth.  They roar—which is what barks and growls sound like to a small child.  They nip when they play—which doesn’t keep it from hurting.  And licking you is just a little too close to eating you.
              So when he first saw Chloe, Silas’s reaction was to try to climb me like a tree.  No amount of reassurance that she wouldn’t hurt him sufficed.  But by the second day of watching her run away from him, his fear subsided.  In fact, he was no longer sure she was a dog.  One morning as he sat perched on the truck tailgate eating a morning snack and watching her furtive over-the-shoulder glance as she slunk under the porch, he said, “I’m afraid of dogs but I’m not afraid of that!”
              Yes, he decided, some dogs should be feared, but at only 5, his little brain had processed the evidence correctly:  this was not one of those dogs and he would not waste any more time or energy on it.
              Too bad we can’t learn that lesson.  We are scared and anxious about the wrong things.  “Use your brain, people” Jesus did not say but strongly implied in Matthew 6.  “God clothes the flowers; He feeds the birds.  You see this every day of your lives.  Why can’t you figure out that He will do the same for you?”
              Instead we waste our time and energy worrying about not just our “daily bread,” but the bread for the weeks and months and years ahead as if we had some control over world economies, floods, earthquakes, storms, and wars that could steal it all in a moment, as if we had absolute knowledge that we would even be here to need it in the first place.  And the kingdom suffers for want of people who give it the time and service it deserves and needs.  “God has no hands but our hands,” we sing, and then expect someone else’s hands to pull the weight while we pamper ourselves and our families with luxuries and so-called future security.
              And the things we ought to fear?  We go out every day with no preparation for meeting the roaring lion that we know for certainty is out there.  He is not a “just in case” or “”if perhaps.”  He is there—every single day.  Yet we enter his territory untrained and in poor spiritual condition, weaponless, and without even a good pair of running shoes should that be our only hope.  Why?  Because we are afraid of the wrong things and careless about the things we should have a healthy fear for; not because the difference isn’t obvious, but because we haven’t used the logic that even a five-year-old can.
              And what did Jesus say to the people who were afraid of the wrong things?  “O ye of little faith.” 
              What are you afraid of this morning?
 
“Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread. But the LORD of hosts, him you shall honor as holy. Let him be your fear, and let him be your dread, Isa 8:12-13.
And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell, (Matt 10:28.
“Listen to me, you who know righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law; fear not the reproach of man, nor be dismayed at their revilings. ​For the moth will eat them up like a garment, and the worm will eat them like wool; but my righteousness will be forever, and my salvation to all generations,” Isa 51:7-8.
​The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me? Ps 118:6.
 
Dene Ward

I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women, who have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.  (Phil 4:2-3).
 
              One of the saddest things about having been part of many different congregations in my lifetime is seeing people just like those two famous women above.  These were good women who had worked hard for the Lord, but for some reason they just could not get along.  We have seen it in every church and it is never takes long to figure out who the two parties are.  Once we were only at a place for a week-long gospel meeting and we still knew who they were well before the week was up.  That time it was two men, by the way.
              A lot of people may say that it doesn't really matter as long as they don't gather up parties on either side or cause a ruckus because, after all, the Bible doesn't say we have to like each other.  Yet the older I get and the more I study, the more I believe it does matter for one very simple reason.  Let me show you quickly this morning.
              Grab your Bible and look up Ephesians 2:11-22.  Christ came here with a mission.  The first one was making peace between God and man (Rom 5:1-3).  But he also came to make peace among men.  Look at verse 12 in this passage.  What was happening before Christ?  As Gentiles we were separate from Christ, alienated from the Jews, strangers from the covenant of promise, had no hope, and were without God.  Do you see all those words of separation and disunity?
              But now that we are in Christ we have been brought near, are one new man, are in one body of the reconciled, have access to the father, have become one nation and one family, and are built into one spiritual Temple (vv13-21).  Notice the difference in the words—nearness, access, oneness.  And why did that have to happen?  Because (v 22) God, who is a God of peace (Phil 4:9) cannot dwell in a Temple where there is no peace.
              When we think we can hang on to our little peeves and animosities and have it not affect the church, we are sadly mistaken.  It isn't just the Jew/Gentile or black/white problem, though they are bad enough.  It took Christ coming to fix that and make us one nation.  But we can still ruin the whole thing if an outsider can come in and see the disunity after just a few days, when one family fights another, when two men behave like children who want their way "or else," when two women avoid one another like the plague. 
When you just can't get along, and don't really even seem to care, you may as well hang a sign on the door that says, "God not wanted here."
 
I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, ​that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.  (John 17:20-21).
 
Dene Ward
 

I always had themed recitals for my students, including skits and ensemble numbers.  I seldom had to hear parents complaining about boring recitals. 
One year we had one called "Mystery!"  All of the songs and piano pieces had titles like "Spooky Footsteps," "Descent into the Crypt," "Through the Night Mist," and "Dixieland Detectives."  All the students came dressed as a famous detective from TV or fiction.  We had Sherlock Holmes, Dr Kay Scarpetta, Magnum PI, Columbo, and Miss Scarlet from the Clue game, among many others.
              Nathan was home from college that week and he and I worked up a special duet.  First, I put him in his college chorus tuxedo and introduced him as the detective whose theme he and I would be performing—Peter Gunn.  Even if you have never seen the show (I never saw one until I was grown and saw it on the oldies channel), I bet you have heard the music.  Talk about modern and catchy—this one has it all.  Blue notes, syncopation, quarter note triplets against a steady eighth note beat.  You can't help but move something when you hear it.  We have played it in a couple of places since then, and it is always an audience pleaser.
              Audience pleasers.  That's a good phrase when you are talking about a concert performance.  That's what a concert is for—pleasing the audience.  That is NOT what worship is about.  Worship is about pleasing God.  I happened to think about that when a song leader I know, a trained musician, by the way, who does an outstanding job of leading, told me that he was criticized for leading "boring songs."
              First of all, who exactly is being bored?  If it's the audience, then maybe they should remember what they are doing—worshipping God not pleasing themselves.  That ought to take care of the "boring" problem right there.
              Second, why is it "boring?"  If it's because they don't have enough Bible knowledge to recognize Biblical references, nor enough depth to their thinking to understand the allusions and feel the goosebumps at some of the most beautiful poetry ever written, then they should be ashamed of themselves.  The Bible may be easy to understand, but it is not a comic book.  Nor is it a See-Jane-Run first grade primer.  The older I get, the more I love the songs that speak the Word of God in lyrics that truly make me think and keep me thinking long after the last chord has rung in the rafters. 
             Neither the song leader, the prayer leader, nor the preacher should have to try so hard to keep our attention if our worship is sincere.  If the only things that keep me interested in either the singing or the sermons and classes is laughter-inducing stories, toe-tapping rhythm, and shoulder-lifting blue notes, I may as well roll in a piano and have Nathan come with me and play a rousing rendition of "Peter Gunn."  I promise you'll like it and won't be bored.  Whether or not you get anything spiritual from it, whether or not you hear any teaching and admonishing, whether or not God is pleased with your idea of worshipping Him, is another matter altogether.
 
But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.  (Heb 5:14).
 
Dene Ward

In February the pine and oak trees suddenly burst out in fuzzy yellow green tufts of pollen that fell like snow on the ground and the sidewalk, covering our car in a thin layer of windblown chartreuse powder and stuffing up Keith’s nose like cotton.  In March the needles and leaves finished falling and the new ones almost instantly budded out in their customary spring green color.  The pollen dried and began falling in earnest, turning the new green grass brown under its carpeting.  Every time I finished working outside, I brushed my shoulders off before heading inside.
              I thought I was in good shape, but in the middle of the night my hand ran over my pillow and I felt it—several large grains of something, and as the sleep fog lifted I realized what it was—tufts of pollen.  On my pillow?  How in the world…?  And then I knew.  It had fallen into my hair, and my hair with all its corkscrews had trapped it like a net.  The only way it was coming out was with a comb—or rubbing it on a pillow, I guess.  The next morning I cleaned out my hair, brushed off the pillow and sheet, and swept the floor.  Then I walked around the house and discovered more on the floors of every room.  So I swept them all.  But that only fixed the problem that morning.  In the afternoon, I had to check my hair all over again.
              It’s easy to think you can be in the world and not be contaminated by it.  Yet every day you bring home those same contaminants if you are not careful to remove them.  They will not easily brush off.  They will not stop falling just because it’s you they might fall on.  And if you leave them, perhaps thinking you will get them out later, or that they will fall out on their own where they won’t hurt anyone, they will affect every part of your life before you know it.  Your language changes, your dress changes, your interests change, and finally, your attitudes change, and suddenly you are not the person you thought you were.
              I have learned to brush myself off every day while the pollen is falling, to run my fingers through my hair and untangle the ones that are trapped.  I check my shoes and the creases in my jeans.  And I do it whether I have been outside all morning or just a few minutes.  Contamination can happen in a flash.
              Be sure to check yourself this evening before you hurt not just yourself, but the ones you love. 
 
Pure religion and undefiled before our God and Father is this, to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.  Jas 1:27
 
Dene Ward

When I was younger and looked at house plans, I used to see small rooms called “mud rooms” on the blueprints.  I never really understood them until I lived two years in Illinois.  In Florida the ground never freezes.  It is wet with the dew most mornings and dries before noon.  Up north the ground must thaw out every spring, and just like that frozen container of homemade tomato sauce on my kitchen counter, it stays wet until it does.  Day after day I wiped up mud and scraped off boots.  Now I really understood mud rooms and wished for one.  At least all the guests were aware of the problem as well and left their shoes at the door without having to be asked.
            That reminds me of the symbolism involved in Ex 3:5:  Take off your shoes from your feet, for the place where you stand is holy ground.  While I cherish the confidence to approach God as a loving Father, while I am thrilled to see our young people revel in that closeness, I worry that we have forgotten what awe and reverence really mean, that we do not understand the requirements of holiness.  Our lives have gotten so casual we cannot even comprehend the difference between the sacred and the profane—it has nothing to do with four letter words.  It means we give our service to God—every day, not just on Sundays--special care, special preparation, and special effort, not just some haphazard, slapdash, last minute, half-hearted stab at it.  It means there is a part of me that is afraid not to take off my muddy shoes before I enter into God’s presence.  And that fear is not a watered down variety called simply “respect.”  Even in a vision, the prophet Isaiah was so awestruck by God’s presence that he exclaimed, Woe is me for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips who dwells in the midst of a people of unclean lips and I have seen the King, Jehovah of hosts Isa 6:5.
             The same book that proclaims that we can come in boldness (Heb 4:16), states that we should approach with reverence and awe because Our God is a consuming fire (Heb 12:28,29).  Paul also says in 1 Cor 5:11 Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord...  It is this sort of fear that will motivate me to holy living when my will power weakens, and love and gratitude are not quite enough to do the job.   
             Don’t ever forget to take off those muddy shoes before coming before the Creator of the Universe.
 
For great is Jehovah and greatly to be praised:
He is to be feared above all gods.
For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
But Jehovah made the heavens.
Honor and majesty are before him:
Strength and beauty are in his sanctuary.
Ascribe unto Jehovah, you kindred of the peoples,
Ascribe unto Jehovah glory and strength.
Ascribe unto Jehovah the glory due to his name:
Bring an offering and come into his courts.
Oh worship Jehovah in holy array:
Tremble before him all the earth.  Psalm 96:4-9
 
Dene Ward

HMS Invincible set sail on March 16, 1801 with 590 men, and ordnance, ammunition, and supplies for the Baltic Fleet and Admiral Nelson as they prepared for the Battle of Copenhagen.  For Captain John Rennie this was his first command, and he was accompanied by Rear Admiral Thomas Totty.  The Norfolk coast was always known as dangerous, mainly because of the Haisbro Sand, located 9 miles off the coast at Happisburgh, and the North Sea itself notorious as a treacherous body of water.  True to its reputation, a strong tide threw the ship off course and about 2:30 pm she struck a shoal just east of the Haisbro Sand. 
              The crew worked all night trying to save the ship.  The masts were struck and pumps were worked manually.  A fishing boat named Nancy came to help.  Admiral Totty boarded her with a few crew members, evidently the youngest, but at daybreak on March 17, the Invincible sank.  A few were picked up in the lifeboats, but out of 590, 400 died in the sea, including Captain Rennie.  For days the bodies washed up on shore.  They were picked up by the wagonload and buried in a mass grave next to the local church.
              Long ago, the ancient Christian church was symbolized by a boat, a refuge for Christians from the storms of life, even though that actual metaphor is nowhere to be found.  Still, it makes a valid point.  Where should we go but to the Lord and our brethren when the storm strikes, and who should we expect help from but the Lord by means of his spiritual body?  You can also make some excellent points on the fact that the symbol was a working boat, where a crew worked together as a team, each doing his own part, not a cruise ship where the passengers come to be fed, served, and entertained!
              The scriptures themselves use that metaphor rarely.  Even the text you might think of among the first, to make the captain of their salvation perfect through suffering, Heb 2:10, is not about a ship's captain as later translations make apparent.  The word simply means "leader," one blazing the way, according to Vine's and Robertson's Word Pictures.
              But the metaphor is there if you look for it.  Here is an obvious one:  We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, (Heb 6:19). 
              But others are simply allusions, and these allusions are apt to our historical entry for the day—shipwreck.  …until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. (Eph 4:13-14)
              "Tossed to and fro" means to be agitated.  "Carried about" means to be whirled as if not anchored.  When we are immature in our faith, when we have not worked to grow and become spiritually strong, we are ripe for the picking by the Devil.  Any stress in our lives can wreck our ship.
              But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. (Jas 1:6)  In this verse it is the water itself that is tossed, but it only takes a moment to extrapolate what that sort of water would do to a boat.  When our faith is not solid, when it wavers with doubt, our ship is likely to sink.
              And that leads us to the most obvious one:  This charge I entrust to you, Timothy, my child, in accordance with the prophecies previously made about you, that by them you may wage the good warfare, holding faith and a good conscience. By rejecting this, some have made shipwreck of their faith, (1Tim 1:18-19).  That is not just a nautical fender-bender.  The word there, according to Robertson means to break a ship to pieces.  When you throw overboard your fidelity to the cause and your conscience, the whole thing is bashed to smithereens on the rocks, the shoals, and the waves.  You are done for.  If it makes us think just for a second before we give in to even one little temptation, maybe we can avoid the crash and keep our souls intact.
              This world is just like the Haisbro Sand and the North Sea—treacherous.  Don't be one of those poor drowned souls stacked in a wagon and tossed into a mass grave.  Use your anchor, grow your faith, and keep your conscience pure.
 
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. (Heb 10:23)
 
Dene Ward