It is axiomatic:  men cannot see dirt.

              Whenever Keith leaves the kitchen, I enter it, looking for the mess he has left.  No, it is not obvious, especially when you have a mottled medium shade of brown countertop.  But as a woman, I automatically know to wipe a countertop after I have done anything on top of it, whether I can see anything there or not.  He thinks because he cannot see it, it isn’t there.  So I wipe up cracker crumbs, cookie crumbs, salt, coffee grounds, peanut butter smears, and assorted beverage circles several times a day.

              That doesn’t mean he is dirty.  If I ask him to clean the tub for me, you will have never heard such scrubbing and scouring and huffing and puffing in all your life.  It sparkles when he is finished.  Whenever he washes dishes for me, he will spend a good half hour on a black pot bottom I have long since given up on.  No, he is not dirty.   He is just not used to looking for the mess until I ask him to.  Then he makes the effort with an eye to what is not clean, and suddenly, he sees it.

              We all have that problem when looking for the dirt in our own lives.  We simply cannot see it.  But in someone else?  That’s simple, and it is so because we have an eye for the dirt in others’ lives, especially those we don’t like much. 

              Many country wives tell their husbands again and again that it is impossible to get all the dirt and mud off those athletic shoes and work boots with the deep treads on the bottom.  “But I wiped my feet,” they say, and walk right in, shoes and all.  Then after they leave, we women get out the brooms and the dustpans, or in some cases, the mops and pails. 

              Some people just will not believe you when you tell them over and over and over that their actions will cost them their souls, that they will become inured to worldliness and think nothing of it, and that other people will suffer because of the dirt they leave behind them.  They reach the point that they blind themselves to the obvious facts in front of them. 

              Today, make it a point to look for the dirt in your own life instead of others’.  Do it while you still can see it.  One of these days even a microscope won’t help, and then where will you be?  You will find yourself living a life full of dirt and stains that would have disgusted you not long before, but which have become invisible to you.  You will find yourself eating off a filthy countertop of sin that will kill you with its toxic germs sooner or later.
 
And why behold the mote that is in your brother's eye, but consider not the beam that is in your own eye? How will you say to your brother, Let me pull the mote out of your eye; and, behold, a beam is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first cast the beam out of your own eye; and then shall you see clearly to cast the mote out of your brother's eye. Matt 7:3-5.
 
Dene Ward

The third Lament begins exactly like the first two—long lists of the terrible things God's people had to endure.  But there is a difference here too.  While the first two are written in third person or as Jerusalem herself, this one is personal and individual:  I am the man who has seen affliction under the rod of his wrath; (Lam 3:1).  He goes on to describe his afflictions in detail, but suddenly, in the middle of all this despair, for the first time, he interjects some hope.

              Remember my affliction and my wanderings, the wormwood and the gall! My soul continually remembers it and is bowed down within me. But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ​“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in him.” (Lam 3:19-24)

              If you have read the entire lament, the first thing you will think is, "Wait a minute!  The writer just said in verse 18 that his hope has perished."  Evidently, according to Evan and Marie Blackmore in Let Us Search Our Ways, this is a type of construction common to Hebrew poetry where a thought is put out for consideration and then discussed.  Eventually the writer dismisses the notion of a lost hope.  And why?  Because of "the steadfast love of the Lord." 

              "Steadfast love," or "lovingkindness" in other versions, is covenant language.  After a while you begin to recognize certain words and phrases that automatically point to the covenant God made with His people.  Despite the people's failure to keep that covenant, God continues to keep his promises to Abraham and David.  He continues to love these feckless, unfaithful children of His because He is righteous, not because they are.

              The ASV on 3:22 makes this most apparent.  It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses [steadfast love] that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (Lam 3:22)

              Even looking at all the horrible things that have happened to the people, the writer says that without God's love, things would be even worse.  The fact that God's care for them can be seen at all—they are still alive!--gives them hope. 

              Later on the writer lists three reasons to hope:
              1) For the Lord will not cast off forever, (v 31).  Even this well-deserved punishment will come to an end. 
              2) But, though he cause grief, he will have compassion according to the abundance of his steadfast love. (v 32)  After the punishment God will show pity and compassion on His people.  He will once again bless them.
              3) ​For he does not afflict from his heart or grieve the children of men. (v 33). God did not send this punishment because it pleased him, but to bring about repentance and to repair the broken relationship.

              And so in the midst of our trials today, we can still have hope.   Remember that it will eventually end.  "This too shall pass," we often say, and it will.  Not only that, but God will have pity on us.   His blessings will not cease.  We may just have to look a little harder for them for a while.  And God never sends trials out of spite.  Even if our trials are not for punishment as theirs was, God always has some goal in mind—strength, clarity, wisdom—something that He expects us to glean from our troubles.  They are never pointless.

              And God's compassion never fails.  No matter how bad things are, His goodness is visible in something close by.  Thorns may pierce, but the roses still bloom.  Bees may sting, but they still make honey.  God has not promised that we will never travel through dark valleys, but He has promised to go through them with us.  Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me" Psalm 23:4.

              Add to all that this one constant:  grace.  The worst day we ever have is better than we deserve.  If you cannot see the hope in your trials, you will ultimately fail them. 
 
The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him. ​It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. ​It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth. (Lam 3:25-27)
 
Dene Ward         

I did a little research one day and discovered that the Liberty Bell, the bell that rang on July 4, 1776 when this country declared its independence from England, received its celebrated crack on July 8, 1835, while tolling the death of Chief Justice John Marshall.  Then I did a little more research and found nine more stories about what caused the crack, and even evidence that this was not the first one.  I do have a small model of that bell among my dinner bell collection and there is the crack for all to see.  It’s probably more famous for that crack than it is for celebrating freedom.
 
           I thought then of another “crack,” one far more important.  And Jesus cried again with a loud voice, and yielded up his spirit. And behold, the veil of the temple was rent in two from the top to the bottom…Matt 27:50-51.  The veil in the Temple that separated the holy place from the most holy place also separated men from God.  Only one man could go through that veil and that only once a year, the high priest, Lev 16.  God “dwelt” behind that veil and man was not allowed access under penalty of death.

            Rather than nine different stories about how the veil of the Temple tore, only one is recorded.  The fact that it tore “from top to bottom” means someone had to be in the anteroom to see it, perhaps several “someones,” and that would have been the regular priests going about their daily duties.  Imagine their feelings as the accompanying earthquake began, and they watched an unseen hand rip that sacred curtain.  Imagine their terror as they wondered if they would die now that it hung open and they could see inside.  I think it is likely they were the very ones who later accepted the new teaching.  And the word of God continued to increase, and the number of the disciples multiplied greatly in Jerusalem, and a great many of the priests became obedient to the faith. Act 6:7.  It would have taken something monumental for those men to give up their livelihoods, their heritage, and their sacred privilege as priests of Jehovah.

            We all know that the rip in that veil symbolized the new access we now have to God.  Since we then have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God… let us draw near with boldness to the throne of grace…Heb 4:12,14.  This access was not given only to the Jews but also to the Gentiles, as prophesied in Isa 25:6,7.  “The veil that is over all nations” is “swallowed up.” 

            The Liberty Bell bears this inscription:  “Proclaim liberty throughout the land,” Lev 25:10.  We have a far more important liberty, the right to approach God when we need him, the privilege to call him Father and enjoy his care and protection and company! Adam lost that privilege a long time ago, and man suffered for it for thousands of years.  Don’t take it for granted now.
 
Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy place by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Heb 10:19-22
 
Dene Ward

Just as I was taught in my college pedagogy classes, I ran my music studio with a policy letter.  It explained what the students and parents could expect of me and what I expected of them.  It explained the payment schedule, and all the things they received for their money—far more than the minutes I spent parked on the bench next to their child.

            The letter also explained my “instant dismissal rules.”  The trick to instant dismissal rules is to have very few, but to enforce the few you do have without fail.  Suddenly you are being treated like a professional instead of the little old lady down the street who teaches a piano lesson or two to pass the time.  I was a professional, the professors told me, with 13 years of training—about as much as a doctor, so I did deserve to be treated that way.  I went over the letter at an interview before ever accepting a student—especially the instant dismissal rules--and the parents signed it and kept a copy.

            My instant dismissal rules?  If you miss seven lessons in the year, whether excused or not, you are dismissed.  If you miss three consecutive lessons, whether excused or not, you are dismissed.  Those two were as much for the student and his parents as they were for me.  If a child was missing that much, he wasn’t getting his parents’ money’s worth.  It also wasn’t fair to my two year waiting list to have to wait for a spot held by a child who was seldom there.  Since the applicants had come from that list themselves, they understood that point immediately.

            My last rule was this:  if you miss the Spring Program you are instantly dismissed.  Why?  I spent at least $200 a year on my annual program in recital hall rent, refreshments, paper goods, printing, and props.  Besides solos, we always had group numbers, and if one child missed, it wrecked a whole piece for several students, not just him.  And finally, this was my advertising; this was how I showed the parents that I was worth the money they were spending.  A wrecked Spring Program was a business disaster.

            In 35 years I think I invoked the instant dismissal rule only twice.  One student was ready to quit anyway, so she simply didn’t show up for the Spring Program.  She knew exactly what she was doing, and since I halfway expected it, I managed to keep the damage to a minimum.

            But another time, a young man who was doing very well didn’t show up and had not called ahead.  (Yes, if there was a legitimate emergency I was not a Hard-Hearted Hannah.)  No one else knew where he was either, and I had to scramble at the last minute to find an older, accomplished student who could pinch hit for him with no warning.

            The next morning I called his mother and told her he was dismissed and why.  Her reaction?  She was furious.  “We had company!” she exclaimed, and I then made mention of the policy letter she had signed, telling her that her company would have been more than welcome.  “That old thing?  I haven’t even looked at it since you handed it to me.  How am I supposed to remember all that stuff?”

            Any time I tell that story, people are horrified at that mother’s attitude.  Her son’s piano lessons obviously meant nothing much to her.  Yet while we will shake our heads at that story, we often do the same thing to God.  Imagine the mother above had been talking about the Bible. “That old thing?  I haven’t even looked at it since you handed it to me.  How am I supposed to remember all that stuff?”  I have a feeling some will try the same line on God at the end of the “term,” and will find out the God enforces his instant dismissal rules too. 

            My Spring Program was also an awards ceremony.  I managed to find enough things to award that any child who worked at it even a little could win something.  Only a few walked away with first or second place trophies from State Contest, yet anyone who came to every lesson, or met the make-ups I offered for excused absences, could win a perfect attendance ribbon.  If a student went away empty-handed it was because he didn’t try, and for no other reason.

            God is going to be handing out awards too, and you get the big one for simply following the rules in the policy letter and doing your best every moment.  Pull it out today.  He does expect you to read it.  He does expect you to remember it.  He doesn’t even mind if you bring your company with you.  But don’t expect Him to change the rules just for you.
 
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury. Rom 2:6-8
 
Dene Ward

We don't do this in our culture.  The Native Americans did it.  Who has not heard the old country song about Running Bear and Little White Dove, or seen the movie "Dances with Wolves?"  No, generally speaking, we do not name our children based upon the English language.  In fact, there are few names in our culture that actually have a meaning in our language—names like Faith, Hope, Joy, April, or Tuesday.  But Bible names meant something in the language of the day.  If we translated Joshua, instead of just transliterating it, it would be "Jehovah saves" and that is what Mr. and Mrs. Nun were saying every time they called their little boy.

              I suppose most of us know that, but we still miss a lot when we don't stop to ponder the meaning of Bible names.  Take the story of Joseph in the book of Genesis.

              Too many people are so busy trying to make Joseph into the first coming of the Messiah that they won't let him be what he was:  a slightly spoiled, rich teenager who was probably scared to death when his brothers sold him.  Still though, I am sure he had hope.  He was, after all, a rich man's son.  And his favorite son at that.  "Surely Daddy will come get me," he must have thought, looking down the dusty road day after day as he literally slaved away.

              But even Joseph, after 13 years, gave up hope.  He had no idea his father thought he was dead.  So when Pharaoh rewards him with position, wealth, and a wife, at the birth of his first son, what does he name him?  "Manasseh."  So? You ask.  Manasseh means "to cause to forget."  "For God has made me forget…all my father's house" Gen 41:51   

             Joseph gave up on a family he thought had thrown him away. As second in the kingdom, he could easily have made the trip east to visit, but he never did.  When his brothers showed up, everything he did was to bring Benjamin, his only full brother and the only brother who did not sell him, down to Egypt to live with him.  He didn't know until he overheard the brothers talking that his father thought he was dead and that they were penitent of their horrible deed.  That is when he turned away from them and wept.  This is the human Joseph and you can understand exactly how he felt.

             But you can also learn this lesson.  He may have given up on his family, but he never gave up on God.  How easy would it have been to deny God because of all the hardship he endured, to enjoy the sin so extravagantly set before him by a promiscuous Egyptian woman, and to have curried favor among the pagans?  But he never gave up on God.  He never blamed God for his troubles.  Instead he continued serving to the best of his ability in whatever state he found himself. 

             Knowing the meaning of a name and allowing it to help you recognize a mindset can give you real encouragement, far more than ignoring the names and setting Joseph up on a pedestal from which he never had a negative thought or motive can.  These are real people God gave us as examples, not super-heroes.  They had real feelings and real motivations.  If Joseph can stay faithful, so can we.
 
The name of the second he called Ephraim, “For God has made me fruitful in the land of my affliction.” (Gen 41:52)
 
Dene Ward

I had a beautiful flower garden last year—brick red gaillardia, their blooms lined with yellow-gold trumpet-shaped petals; pink, magenta, white, and burgundy cosmos fluttering on feathery spring green plumes: hardy, yellow gloriosa daisies shining like beacons among the leaves; yellow, orange, and rust colored marigolds perched on the bushiest plants I had ever seen in that flower; bright purple Mexican petunias who, though they shed their blooms every night, never failed to greet me with another show of dozens every morning; and zinnias sporting every color imaginable--white, yellow, salmon, cherry red, fire engine red, bright orange, purple, pink, lime green, and even variegated colors, growing as tall as five feet before the summer was out.

            Unfortunately, those zinnias began growing something besides blooms. It started at the bottom, with black-rimmed white spots on just a few lower leaves.  It spread from one plant to several in an area until finally it had touched every single plant.  Then it began its inexorable climb until only the top few leaves remained green, and only the newest blossoms, barely opened from the bud, were clean.  It took me awhile to realize what was happening, and by the time I figured it out, it was too late.

            Still, I didn’t want to pull the plants.  They did have a little green left at the top, and where there is life there is hope, right?  Finally after several mornings of looking out on what had once brought joy to my mornings and seeing instead a mass of black leaves and stems, I made a decision.  Why did I have these flowers anyway?   Because they were beautiful, and even I could see all that color from a distance.  Were they beautiful any longer?  No, they were about as ugly as they could be.  And the longer I waited, the further that fungus spread.  The gaillardia were already infected, and a few of the marigolds.

            So the next day I went out and began pulling.  It wasn’t even laborious.  Those plants were so sick that they came right up out of the ground, and do you know what I found underneath?  New seedlings growing from the deadheads I had been cutting all summer.  If I had left those ugly things much longer, the baby plants would have been choked out by the much larger roots and then infected as well.  Now they can breathe and grow, and the sunlight reaches their tiny leaves. I have already gotten out the copper spray, a fungicide that is even considered “organic,” not that I would care since my goal is to save those new flowers no matter what it takes, and they aren’t on the menu anyway.

            Still, it was hard to make that decision.  I have trouble even thinning the rows in the vegetable garden.  It goes against my nature to pull up a plant that is still alive, even if it does mean better production from the ones you leave, and far more food on my shelves to last the winter.

            Sometimes we have to make decisions like that with souls.  Give not that which is holy to the dogs, nor cast your pearls before swine, Matt 7:6.  Who wants to make that judgment call?  And whosover shall not receive you nor hear your words…shake the dust off your feet, 10:14.  It is difficult to give up on someone you have invested a lot of time in, someone you have come to care about.  But sometimes our refusal to do so is costing many more souls out there the chance to hear and accept the word while we waste time on the stubborn and rebellious.

            Sometimes that decision must be made among ourselves too.  A little leaven leavens the whole lump, Paul warned about immorality in 1 Cor 5:7, and then used exactly the same warning about false doctrine in Gal 5:9.  If you know anything about cooking, you know that leaven is alive.  It may not be a fungus, but it creeps in exactly the same way and spreads.  No matter how small a chunk of it you use, that dough will suddenly react, and there is no going back when it does.  Speaking of false teachers in 2 Tim 2:17, Paul says, “Their word eats as does a gangrene.”  When gangrene eats away the flesh, it’s gone.

            Yes, we have to make these tough decisions, but I have seen some people make it with a little too much zest.  God never enjoyed it.  I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, He said, Ezek 33:11.  God would have all men to be saved, Paul says, 1 Tim 2:4, and Peter reminds us that God is not willing that any should perish, 2 Pet 3:9.  He waited a long time before He finally punished His people, and even then it was with anguish:  How shall I give you up…how shall I cast you off…my heart recoils within me, my compassion grows warm and tender, Hos 11:8. 

            God never meant for this decision to be easy, but sometimes it has to be made.  It isn’t compassion not to make it—it’s cowardice.  My medical book says that fungus spreads worst among very young children and those who are already ill.  We must look underneath those infected branches to see the reason for our decision—to save many more before they too are infected with a fatal disease.  The souls who were sacrificed in the arenas by the Roman persecution are depicted as asking God, How long until you will judge and avenge our blood? Rev 6:10.  Desperate souls may be out there asking us, How long are you going to waste time on the unwilling, when we want it so badly?”
 
"Rejoice with him, O heavens; bow down to him, all gods, for he avenges the blood of his children and takes vengeance on his adversaries. He repays those who hate him and cleanses his people's land." Deuteronomy 32:43
 
Dene Ward

Question 4 on our lesson sheet for the second lament was "What is the focus of this lament?" 

              Almost in unison came the answer:  "The anger of God." 

             You couldn't miss it.  The poet uses three Hebrew nouns 7 times along with two verbal expressions for anger.  Then you have the list of things God did in His anger—and there was no quibbling about it:  God did them, not the Babylonians.  He "laid waste his booth," " laid in ruins his meetingplace," "spurned king and priest," "made Zion forget Sabbath," "scorned his altar," and "disowned his sanctuary."  He destroyed the very worship he had set up for his people and the people seemed to have no trouble recognizing that God had every right to do it.  They broke the Covenant.  It was all their fault.

              Today we all want to focus on the God of love.  I know it when I hear things like, "God wants me to be happy.  He would never be angry about such a little thing.  He would never _______________."

              First of all, what God wants is for us to be holy so we can spend an Eternity with him.  We cannot if we are anything less than pure because we couldn't—wouldn't—give up the pleasures of even the smallest of sins, and that means that sometime we won't be very "happy.".  "Sin separates you from God."  If, after all the blessings I have received from Him and after the huge sacrifice He made for me, I am so unspiritual that I cannot make a relatively insignificant sacrifice for Him in order to make myself acceptable, I deserve His anger and whatever punishment goes along with it.  Yes, He will too ____________, and even these stubborn, selfish, prideful, ungrateful, unmerciful, and unfaithful people of His eventually figured it out. 

              For us to picture God as a one-dimensional Being who only forgives and loves is nothing short of arrogant.  God as our Creator has every right to be angry with the created ones who break His laws.  When unbelievers blast God for that anger—"How could a just God allow these things to happen?"--don't think you have to apologize for Him.  He doesn't need us to explain it away in order to make Him more palatable to a shallow, ungodly, and disobedient world now any more than He did then.
 
The Lord has swallowed up without mercy all the habitations of Jacob; in his wrath he has broken down the strongholds of the daughter of Judah; he has brought down to the ground in dishonor the kingdom and its rulers. He has cut down in fierce anger all the might of Israel; he has withdrawn from them his right hand in the face of the enemy; he has burned like a flaming fire in Jacob, consuming all around. He has bent his bow like an enemy, with his right hand set like a foe; and he has killed all who were delightful in our eyes in the tent of the daughter of Zion; he has poured out his fury like fire. The Lord has become like an enemy; he has swallowed up Israel; he has swallowed up all its palaces; he has laid in ruins its strongholds, and he has multiplied in the daughter of Judah mourning and lamentation. (Lam 2:2-5)
             
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

God lifted Ezekiel and took him from Babylonian captivity to Jerusalem in a vision. In a divinely led tour of the temple, Ezekiel saw abomination after abomination in the very house of God. At each stop, God said, "Do you see this, you shall see greater abominations than these,” and led Ezekiel on to the next scene. At tour's end, God said, "Have you seen this, O son of man? Is it too light a thing for the house of Judah to commit the abominations that they commit here, that they should fill the land with violence and provoke me still further to anger? (Ezek 8:17, ESV2011).

Did you catch that? God considered the desecration of the temple to be a "light thing" in comparison to the things they were doing in the land. Instead of "light thing," we might say, "no big deal."

The "image of jealousy" in the court of the house of God is small? Seventy elders in the chambers that shared a wall with the temple itself worshiping all manner of idols and creatures is a thing to be dismissed? Women idolaters, men who turned their back on the house of God to worship the sun--these are small?

Maybe we need to re-evaluate the way we view our service. If a modern Ezekiel toured a church and saw instruments of worship, women preachers, open misuse of the Lord's Supper and worse, God might well say that these were light things in view of the violence done by his people to get ahead in life, to be dismissed in comparison with parent's neglect of children to pursue social standing, small things in relation to the indifference shown to the souls of the lost we never find time or a way to invite. Does our anger in rush hour traffic fill the land with violence? You can continue the list with your own observations of the daily failures to measure up to the correct worship we do on Sunday. [With Jesus we exhort, "These you ought to have done and not leave the others undone"].

God does not think like we do. We think if the public worship is by the book, then we are a sound church.

Ezekiel learned otherwise.

We still do not know God.
 
Keith Ward
 

Growing tomatoes can be easy, but if you must deal with poor soil instead of rich loam, it isn’t.  If you have bacteria-infected soil, it isn’t.  If blights, mildews, and fungi abound, it isn’t.  If the insects rise in swarms every time you bump a plant, it isn’t.  We have all of the above, so growing tomatoes here in our sub-tropical “paradise” is certainly not easy.

            Every year we have a handful of plants that grow to about a foot’s height, then stop.  Their leaves curl and they never set a bloom.  They remain green and don’t die outright, but they don’t grow and they don’t produce fruit.  We call them the “frizzled plants” because of the curled leaves and the stunted growth.  If we are not careful, our spiritual growth can be stunted in the same way.

            Listening and considering new ideas is imperative to spiritual growth, to improving our attitudes and characters.  Keith has actually come across a couple of people who have told him, “Even if you could show me in the Bible where I’m wrong, I wouldn’t change.  I’m comfortable where I am.”  A comfort zone is prime territory for stunted growth.  What do you do but sit there and watch their leaves curl?

            Others have a pride issue.  They can’t possibly be wrong about anything.  Hear the sarcasm in Job’s voice as he deals with his so-called friends: “No doubt you are the [only wise] people, and wisdom will die with you,” 12:2.  When people will not listen to anyone else, they will only grow as far as their own knowledge will reach, and then stop.

            Parents can stifle growth when they view differing opinions as disrespect.  Even parents who don’t mean to do so are used as an excuse not to listen.  “But my daddy said…”  Don’t you think Daddy had enough personal integrity to change his mind if someone showed him he was in error?

            Indifference can stunt your growth.  In fact, it is a wonder some people managed to germinate a seed at all, much less grow enough to look at least a little like a Christian.  Their apathy prevents them from getting any farther.

            Wealth can strangle you so that the seed never receives the nourishment it needs. They are those who hear the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful. Mark 4:19.

            Immaturity, which Paul repeatedly calls carnality in 1 Corinthians, can stunt your growth.  When you are concerned about the wrong things and your perspective is distorted, when you can’t see beyond the instant gratification of things, status and the opinion of others, you will never comprehend the true necessities of spiritual life.  You certainly won’t grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord.

            We need to look at ourselves and the things that matter most to us.  Examine your spiritual growth in the past year or two.  Can you see a difference, or are you still sitting in exactly the same place with curled leaves and no fruit on your limbs?  Are you stretching those limbs upward, or do they droop to the earth, where the only things that matter to you happen to be?

            What is getting in the way of your growth?  Don’t be a frizzled tomato plant.
 
The righteous flourish like the palm tree and grow like a cedar in Lebanon. They are planted in the house of the LORD; they flourish in the courts of our God. They still bear fruit in old age; they are ever full of sap and green, Psa 92:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

​            One of the things we said early on was to stay in the book you are studying!  The only time to compare the Gospels is when you are studying an event or phrase in particular.  Below is a good example.  Who were all those women who stood at the foot of the cross?
​
            Comparing the three verses below reveals a wealth of information about more than just who they were.  List them and then match them up and this is what you will find:

      You now see that Mary the wife of Cleopas, was the mother of the apostle James the Less.  By comparing Mark 3:18, we find that Cleopas was also called Alphaeus.  Luke 24:18 shows us that Cleopas was also a disciple of Jesus, or she was possibly married twice, but it was not at all uncommon for men to go by two names. 

      We learn that James and John’s mother was named Salome, and that she was Jesus’ aunt, his mother’s sister.  This helps explain why John was so special to him (probably the baby cousin), and why James and John, and their business partner Peter, were so often by his side when the others were not.  (But it leaves us wondering why Andrew, Peter’s brother, was not!) 

      It also shows that Aunt Salome wasn’t entirely out of line in expecting that her two sons, Jesus’ only blood relatives among the apostles, might be his first and second (lieutenants? Vice-presidents?) in the kingdom, and why Jesus gave the care of his mother to his youngest believing cousin.  And that points out that Jesus considered the spiritual connection more important than the physical because at that time he had at least four brothers who could have cared for their mother, but none of them yet believed.

            Try this one now:  Look up every list of the apostles you find, even partial lists.  Look up the meaning of names.  It is amazing that Matthew the publican and Simon the Zealot could tolerate one another, and that points to the unifying power of the gospel.  The apostles varied from blue collar fishermen to the more urbane Nathanael, who looked down on anyone from Galilee. 

            Almost all of them had two or even three names:

• Simon, Peter, Cephas
• Thomas, Didymus (“Twin,” which leaves you wondering where his brother was)
• Matthew, Levi
• Bartholomew, Nathanael (a presumption)
• Simon, Zelotes (more a description = Zealot)
• Thaddeus, Judas, Lebbaeus

            Some of those names were Aramaic, some Hebrew, some Greek (I’ll let you look that up yourself).  The Aramiac names were mostly translations from common Hebrew names.

• James = Jacob
• John = Jonah
• Simon = Simeon
• Judas = Judah
• Mary = Miriam (which explains why there were so many Marys.)
  

            It’s actually pretty amazing what you can learn about those men when you gather the meager facts together, a whole lot more than you think, like where they came from, who their parents were, etc.  I'll leave that one to you.
 
Dene Ward