Seems like every August one of the morning network shows will have a spot on what to do with all those tomatoes.  Unfortunately, those shows usually air from New York City where they seem to think that everyone thinks like they do and lives like they do, and that even the weather follows suit.  New York City must be the center of the universe.  
    Down here in Florida our tomatoes are 1 to 2 months gone by the time those shows air, depending upon the year.  We eat and give away those perfectly formed, unblemished firstfruits from the last week of May till halfway through June.  Then I spend a week canning tomatoes with the plum varieties, and a few days on specialty items like salsa and tomato jam.  Another week using up the end of the year uglies on sauce, and that’s that.  It’s a rare year that I have tomatoes after the Fourth of July.
    And guess what?  In the south part of this long state, things are different still.  Tomato season Is different for every location and climate.
    It’s like that for Christians too.  Not only do different spiritual ages have differing levels of understanding, but even different locations fight different battles.  A long time ago, we moved north.  Talk about culture shock.  Not only did I see my first snow, we had to fight heresies that had been fought down south ten years earlier.  You can see those things happen in the New Testament too, as trouble travels from city to city.  
    We can also discover exactly how patient—or impatient—we are with our brothers and sisters.  I forget how long it took me to reach this point and expect it of them in a few short weeks.  I become annoyed with their failures and with their lack of understanding.  Somehow I expect them to leapfrog a few decades and catch up.
That is not how it works, and we must make allowances.  It may mean we are more careful in our decision making, and it may mean we give up our liberties.  It’s one thing to be held hostage by the views of the stubborn who claim they are “offended;” it’s quite another to trample on the fragile souls of those new in the faith, who are still grappling with the baggage they have not quite left behind.  
And let us not deter, or even discourage completely, their salvation with some manmade list of things they should know before we accept them into our congregations.  Smacks a little of catechism class, doesn’t it?  Just how much do you think that Philippian jailor knew when Paul baptized him “in the same hour of the night?”  Enough to understand his need for a Savior and how to contact that redeeming blood.  He had a lifetime to learn the rest.
    Tomato season for me is not tomato season for you, and my Christian age is not the same as yours.  If you expect a green tomato to taste like one that has been vine-ripened in a home garden, you are not as wise as you think you are.

We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up. For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, “The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me,  Rom 15:1-3.

Dene Ward

Many years ago we lived in an old frame house in front of a train track, on a corner lot right next to the crossing.  The boys were four and two, and they loved to run outside as soon as they heard the horn so they could wave to the engineer and watch the cars pass—boxcars, flatcars, tankers, and finally the caboose, usually with another trainman standing on its “back porch,” who also received an excited wave.  Before a week had passed, those men were craning their necks, looking for the two towheaded little boys so they could be sure to wave back. We learned the train schedule quickly:  one every morning about 8:30, one every afternoon about 4:00, and one every Saturday about midnight.  
    That first Saturday night train took about ten years off my life.  I came up out of a deep sleep when the horn sounded.  We had only been in the house two days and in the fog of sleep, I did not know where I was or what was happening.  Then I heard that train getting closer and closer, louder and louder.  I realized what it was then, but my perspective was so out of whack that it sounded like the train was headed straight for the middle of the house.  I sat straight up, frozen in terror until it had passed.
    Within two weeks I was sleeping through the din.  Not even the sudden wail of the horn woke me. During the day it took the tug of a little hand on my shirttail for me to hear the train coming so we could go out and wave.  Your mind tunes out what it doesn’t want to hear, and does a grand job of it.
    How many times do we tune out people?  When we learn another’s pet peeves, the things he goes on about at the least provocation, we no longer listen.  If we have the misfortune to deal with someone who nags, we tune that out.  Maybe we should learn the lesson to choose our battles.  If we want what we say to matter to people, don’t go on and on about the trivial or they will have tuned us out long ago and never hear the things they really need to hear.  Parents need to learn that.
    Then there is the matter of tuning out God.  Oh, we all want to hear how Jesus loved the sinners, but let’s not hear His command to, “Go thy way and sin no more.”  Let’s remind ourselves that the apostle Paul was not above preaching to some of the vilest sinners in the known world, fornicators, idolaters, adulterers, effeminate, abusers of themselves with men, thieves, covetous, drunkards, revilers, extortioners.  But let’s ignore the fact that he says they changed:  such were some of you; let’s ignore the fact that he said that in their prior state they were unrighteous and could not inherit the kingdom of God, 1 Cor 6:9-11.  That’s just one of the many things people don’t hear.
    Today, maybe we should ask ourselves what it is we don’t want to hear.  I imagine that it is the very thing we need to hear the most.

Why do you not understand my speech?  Because you cannot hear my word. He that is of God hears the words of God: for this cause you hear not, because you are not of God, John 8:43,47.

Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

More and more I hear people talk about how “the Lord opened a door to me,” or some variation such as, “This is an opportunity from the Lord.”

My first thought was how nice it is that more and more people are putting the Lord God into their decisions and their lives on an everyday basis. Then, further, that it was nice that they were not too scared of being labeled “Pentecostal” to talk about God working through them.

But then I began to wonder how I am to know whether a door is an opportunity from God or whether it is an open trap from Satan. Of course, if the thing is wrong in and of itself, we can be sure. But, not all Satan’s traps are baited with lusts/evil; some are baited with distractions and time-wasters and faith-weakening actions that are not of themselves sinful. We do agree that God is not whispering the answer in our heads so how can we know?

Well, the Apostle Paul could not tell according to Acts 16. He started for Asia. To all measurements this holy man could take, Asia was the door. The Spirit had to say, “No.” Later Paul would call Ephesus a “great door and effectual,” but not yet, the Spirit said. Then he looked to Bithynia for it likewise seemed to be an opportunity for the gospel, but again the Spirit said, “No.” Finally we know the Spirit led him to Philippi. None of the choices was sinful, but only one was God’s door at that time. Absent such a direct leading from God, no one can know whether a thing is a door or a side road into a bog, not even so spiritual a man as the Apostle Paul.

Some have so fiercely latched onto the idea that their choice is an opportunity from God that even advice from sincere, older, godly men with a whole lot more experience is denounced with, “You do not have enough faith.”

Does no one else see the potential for an almost arrogant spirit in this attitude? First, God chose ME. Second, I listen to no one, not even brethren with knowledge, brethren with love for the Lord and love for me. Third, I turn it into a matter of faith and I have enough to make it go. Often, when the door slams, the opportunity sinks without a trace, and their faith goes with it.

Looking back through my life, I can discern a few times that now appear to me to have been God’s door of opportunity. But is that how God views them? Again, I see many times I slogged through the bog, slowed by mud and briars and in danger of varmints. But, is that how God views those times?

I doubt that at 11:30 pm, Paul and Silas, being in severe pain from a beating and after hours of being locked in stocks, were thinking of their inner prison as a door of opportunity. By dawn, they knew that it had been. All we can do is the thing they did—however they could at that moment they served the Lord. They sang and prayed. Wherever we are, we need to be doing what we can, making the best decisions we can to accomplish God’s work. We must not let ourselves become too enthusiastic, and certainly not too arrogant, to hear wisdom.

Keith Ward

I was a timid child, especially around my peers, and I wasn’t much braver when I grew up.  But God puts something in mothers that is fearsome.  There is a reason people say that the most dangerous creature is a mother who thinks her young are threatened.  All of us in the ladies’ Bible class call it “the mama bear” in us.
    
Once we lived in a big old frame house on a rural highway, a dirt road running down the edge of the side yard to its north.  Lucas at four was already a tree climber and the small chinaberry in that section of the lawn was a favorite.  He could reach the lowest limb standing flat-footed on the ground, then swing his legs up to it to hang upside down, pull himself up to sit or even stand on that long sturdy branch.

    One afternoon he was playing in the tree when a group of boys came walking down the dirt road.  There were four of them, ninth or tenth grade teenagers, every one of them bigger and heavier than I.  They must not have seen me among the sheets and towels as I hung out the last load of laundry.  Surely they would have known better than to start teasing a small child with his mother present.  Very quickly the name-calling and threatening turned into all four of them coming at my little guy with arms raised.  What were they thinking?

    I emerged from the folds of flapping laundry breathing fire and probably screaming like a banshee—my memory of the event is just a little foggy.  I do remember that four young toughs wilted before my eyes, turned tail and ran.  I grabbed my baby, ran up the back porch steps into the kitchen and sank into a chair, rocking him as the slam of the screen door echoed through the old house.

    I was thoroughly shaken, not by the boys, but by my own actions.  Where in the world had that come from?  It came from God, the strength to overcome a timid nature and forget your own safety in order to protect your small, innocent child who is unable to protect himself.  We all have that Mama Bear somewhere inside us.  I doubt we could keep it hidden if we wanted to when the need for it arose.

    God put that feeling in us, so surely it must be in Him.  Yet somehow He managed to ignore it.  His Son’s life was not only threatened, but taken in a horrible, painful way, and He managed somehow to stifle that strong, boiling emotion that rises out of you in an almost uncontrollable manner.

    And do you know why?  Because when Satan came after us, his adopted children, He didn’t stifle it, but instead gave free rein to the Mama Bear in Himself.  He loved us so much He found a way to save us, even at an almost unbearable cost.

    Think about that the next time you want to rail at God for the pain you think He has caused you.  We caused Him much more pain and He loves us anyway.

Herein was the love of God manifested in us, that God has sent his only begotten Son into the world that we might live through him.  Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins, 1 John 4:9,10.

Dene Ward

Entitlement—the belief that one is inherently deserving of privileges or special treatment.

    I wish I had a nickel for every conservative politician, even every Christian, I’ve heard complaining about people who have entitlement issues.  The ones who act like the world owes them a living; like they should never have to reap the consequences of their sown wild oats; who think that having money or, interestingly enough, NOT having money, makes them exempt from the laws of the land.  While I find myself agreeing with most of those opinions, I also see this:  every one of them, politician and Christian alike, has an entitlement issue of his own.

    First there is the husband who wants everything done in a certain way, even if it is a lot more work for his wife; who demands certain foods cooked a certain way and served with certain other foods or he refuses to eat it; who requires every item of clothing pressed, even if they are permanent press and no one else will know the difference; who wants his big boy toys because he’s “worked hard and earned it,” even if it means others in the family will do without.  After all, he is the head of the house.

    Then there is the wife who wants everything the neighbors have, even if the neighbor makes a lot more money; who thinks she must have plenty of time and money allotted for preening; who considers sacrificing for her family a kind of torture; who believes that life is for recreation and begrudges every minute she must spend caring for the children or keeping the house or cooking meals; who recites her list of woes to anyone who will listen every time she has the opportunity so she can be properly pitied and praised for dealing with them.  After all no one should have to go without a new pair of shoes for every outfit.

    And don’t forget the children these two raise:  selfish, materialistic whiners who are never satisfied; who think that their parents owe them every new electronic gizmo the world creates; and who never once utter the word, “Thank you,” much less actually treat their parents with enough respect and courtesy to even look up from their phones and carry on a civil conversation.  After all, they didn’t ask to be born so they deserve everything they want to make up for it.

    Do you think these attitudes hasn’t invaded the church?  Where do you think we get those members who refuse to do as they are asked for the sake of visitors from the community?  Why, no one can have my perfect parking place (under the shade tree) or my perfect seat (in the rear).  Why do you think we have people who treat their precious opinions like the first principles of Christianity—basic and undeniable, and shame on anyone who isn’t as enlightened as I am?  Where do they come from, the people who will raise an argument about the trivial just to show their smarts and regardless of who may need the larger point being made?  Or the ones who, when they suffer, raise their fists at God and complain, “I’ve served you all my life.  Why me?” as if they could have ever earned any blessing at all?

    And why do you think we have such a hard time overcoming a single besetting sin?  “That’s just the way I am,” we think, as if the Lord should count Himself blessed to have us and overlook it.

    Yes, we are all guilty.  And what does Jesus have to say about that when he hears us pontificating about “those people” with entitlement issues?
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye, Matt 7:3-5.

    Be careful the next time you rant about entitlement.

Dene Ward

            Summer thunderstorms are nothing unusual in Florida.  Even when we don’t have a hurricane, we can count on dark skies, roiling clouds, strong winds, and heavy downpours almost every afternoon from June through September.  This summer seems to have been worse than usual.

            Just in the past four days we have had two storms that knocked the power out for a total of seven hours, with two plus inches falling in an hour’s time.  In fact, this last time we had an inch and a half in thirty minutes flat.  The water ran down from the top of the hill in a river around the house and down to the creek just past the boundary fence.  The wind blew the rain in vertical sheets, leaving standing water an inch deep on the covered carport, and the screened porch floor wet to the wall of the house.  The wind blew in gusts that twisted fifteen foot long pine limbs off the trees—green limbs, not rotten ones.  Smaller limbs flew by as we watched, almost as thick as the rainwater.  The lightning was loud and close and almost constant.  When I stepped inside and saw the power was out I was not really surprised.  This was one angry storm.

            And suddenly I thought, “This was the kind of rain Noah lived through.”  God was angry.  He would not have sent a gentle patter of raindrops on that gopher wood roof.  His wrath would have been obvious in the gusty winds tearing roofs off houses and branches off trees.  He would have vented his anger in the boom of thunder rolling over the hills, hills that slowly and inevitably disappeared under the waves.  That last storm we had scared me just a little; I bet the one Noah endured for forty days was terrifying.

            And we need to be terrified too.  An angry God is not the God we want to face on judgment day.  Do not let the world, and sometimes even the brethren, blur your view of an irate God who cannot countenance sin.  You need that picture to keep you straight sometimes, and so do I.  It’s too easy to think, “This is no big deal; God won’t mind this once; God is a God of mercy,” and forget the God of wrath and vengeance.  Don’t let anyone turn “fear” into nothing more than respect.  You can love someone and fear them too.  Anyone who had a godly father knows that.  Don’t let them lie to you and steal your soul by telling you otherwise.

            By the end of summer I am ready for a calm fall.  I want sunny days and gentle breezes.  I am sure that’s what we want from God too, but just as those storms do good for this land—replenishing the water table and keeping the tropical plants green—remembering the stormy wrath of God can do your soul good too.  Don’t forget it.

Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: I will make a stormy wind break out in my wrath, and there shall be a deluge of rain in my anger, and great hailstones in wrath to make a full end, Ezek 13:13.

But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous ( that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience, Eph 5:3-6.

Dene Ward

When my boys were still at home, family meal time was important.  We all made an effort to be together as many nights a week as possible, even as their schedules became busier in the high school years.  The majority of the time, we managed to do so. 

            I recently read a couple of articles discussing the importance of families eating together.  A family that eats together has better nutrition and the girls have fewer eating disorders.  The children do better at school.  They develop better language skills. They are less likely to take drugs, smoke, or drink.  Eating together, especially the evening meal, helps maintain accountability.  It is a “check-in time” which fosters a sense of togetherness.  (www.sixwise.com)

            “Dinnertime should be treated like a reunion, a respite from the outside world, a moment of strengthening relationships, and a pleasant experience that should always be cherished,” Ron Afable, “Eating Together as a Family, www.adam.org.

            When I read that last quote I was stunned.  Was he talking about family dinnertime or the Lord’s Supper?  God tells us we are to have this meal when we are “gathered together,” not each in his own home.  The reasons are precisely those reasons.  When I walk into the church’s gathering place I should have a feeling of relief, a “Whew! I made it!” moment.  This is my haven; these people are my support group; this is where I gather the strength to face another week of trials and temptations.  Is it any wonder God chose something that was part of a family meal to celebrate our one-ness with Him, with our Savior, and with each other? 

            The denominational world says that having this meal as often as the first Christians did—every Sunday—makes it less special, yet what does the world say about families having meals together on a regular basis?  Surely that applies here as well.  We are better nourished spiritually, we grow in the knowledge of the Word, we sin less because of the accountability regular meetings require, and we develop stronger relationships with one another.  Funny how God knew what He was doing, isn’t it?

            We often say that we should forget the outside world during this special time, but more than that, we should remember our “inside world”--our bond with one another.  Disagreements should melt away.  Aggravations with others should be covered by our love.  Personality problems should take the place they deserve—the bottom of the barrel.  To do otherwise is to make a mockery of the feast, and “drink damnation to ourselves.” 

            Our Father calls us to this special suppertime to reunite, to rest and recover, and to remember who we are and how we got here. This special dinnertime should always be cherished.  Don’t make a habit of missing it.

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

Dene Ward

I bet you have some of those recipes yourself—Hawaiian pizza, nacho cheese stuffed shells, Mexican lasagna, spinach and feta calzones.  It may not be an upscale restaurant’s version of fusion cooking, but for most of us it’s as close as it gets.  Italian cuisine mixed with Mexican, Greek mixed with Asian, French with Thai, anything to put a little variety in the weeknight meals.  And for many of us, they become some of the family’s favorite dishes.  When the flavors don’t clash but meld together beautifully, the whole dish is improved.

            Isn’t that the way the church is supposed to work?  God never meant us to gather in monochromatic assemblies.  He never meant for one ethnic or economic group to position itself higher in the pecking order as the more learned, the more spiritual, the more zealous.  The prophets prophesied a multi-cultural kingdom.  It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways... Isa 2:2-3. 

            Even as far back as Abraham God promised, “In thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed,” Gen 22:17.  Not one nation, not two, but all.  When you read the book of Genesis and watch God funnel his choice down to one people, then in the New Testament see that funnel turned upside down to include salvation for all in the fulfillment of that promise, you cannot possibly exclude anyone and still show a true appreciation for God’s plan. 

            And you cannot make yourself better than any other without annulling grace.  For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love, Gal 5:6.

            “God is no respecter of persons,” Peter said to Cornelius, and even he had to learn that lesson and teach it to others.  And the struggle went on for years.  Have we not in two millennia finally figured this out?  Even Jesus began the process when he chose Simon the Zealot and Matthew the publican.  If ever two people, even of the same race, could be polar opposites in ideology, it was these two, but they overcame their biases and went on to work peaceably and respectfully together to conquer the world for their Lord—the whole world, not just one race.

            Who are you teaching?  Who are you welcoming into your assemblies?  Who puts their feet under your table and holds your hands during the prayer of thanksgiving for the meal?

            A long time ago, my little boys wanted some friends to stay overnight and go to school with them in the morning.  “We’ll tell the teachers they are our cousins.” 

We adults looked at one another and smiled.  These playmates were black and my boys were about as fair-skinnedl as they come.  Their father shook his head and said, “I don’t think that will work.”

In all innocence and sincerity they asked, “Why not?”

Finally Keith looked at the father and said, “We’re brothers, aren’t we?  So I guess that makes them cousins after all.”

Would that we could all be as color-blind as an innocent child, as color blind as the Lord who died for all.

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise, Gal 3:27-29.

Dene Ward

Keith is a certified firearms instructor for the State Department of Corrections.  Whenever he has a class on the range and they run out of ammunition, he makes them pop open their revolvers, allowing the casings to scatter wherever they fall, snap in a speed loader, and start shooting again.  Any who empty the casings into their hands get a stern lecture.  Why?  Because in a state of emergency, you will do what you practice.  After gunfights, they have found dead policemen with bullet casings in their hands; men who, on the practice range, took the time to pour the empties into their hands so they wouldn’t have to crawl around picking them up later, so that is what they did under pressure, and those few precious seconds when the bullets were flying cost them their lives.  There is always time after practice to pick up the brass.

            Whenever an emergency arises, whenever you find yourself under extreme pressure, you will always do what you have trained yourself to do. 

            You will not say, “Oh, I shouldn’t take the time to pick up these casings right now.  There are bad guys out there trying to kill me so I need to reload as quickly as possible.”  You will simply do what you have always done.  It’s why schools and workplaces run fire drills, why the flight attendants tell you how to operate those dangling masks every time you get on a plane, and why the various branches of the armed forces run drills over and over and over.

            Why is it important to memorize scriptures, to sing hymns during the day, to talk to God as if He were right there with you all day long?  Why is it important to train yourself not to use foul language even when no one else is around, not to lose your temper over even the smallest matters, not to develop dependencies other than God when you are feeling down, not to return evil for evil, even when you are just driving down the road?  Because when life’s pressures rise, you will do what you practice. 

            If you curse in private, you will curse for all to hear; but if you pray at the drop of a hat whenever something does not go well, that is what you will do instead.  If you have trained yourself to turn the other cheek at the least little grievance, you will more easily do so with the larger ones.  If you have filled yourself with the scriptures, those precious words will spring to mind and bail you out of temptation.

            In case of emergency, you will do what you have trained yourself to do.  Is it time for a spiritual fire drill?

With my whole heart have I sought you: Oh let me not wander from your commandments.
Your word have I laid up in my heart, that I might not sin against you.
Blessed art thou, O Jehovah: Teach me your statutes.
With my lips have I declared all the ordinances of your mouth.
I have rejoiced in the way of your testimonies, As much as in all riches.
I will meditate on your precepts, and have respect unto your ways.
I will delight myself in your statutes: I will not forget your word. Psalm 119:10-16

Dene Ward

If you watch much television, you have just finished a season of reruns.  I would say THE season if it were still my childhood.  Back then a show lasted at least 9 months and you didn’t have any reruns at all until summer.  Nowadays you are likely to have one by Thanksgiving, and then off and on all year long. 

            One thing about growing older—reruns are a lot more interesting.  You don’t always remember what happened the first time, or whodunit or why.  In fact, since I usually watch only older shows, I really don’t remember.  It’s like watching a brand new show, and since it’s an older one, it’s a lot more palatable too.  Have you noticed that even when they care to “bleep” these days, they leave so much of the word you might as well have heard it in the first place?  Talk about unpalatable.

            A year or so ago Lucas said about the blog, “I finally read a new article that had something in it you already said!”  What in the world is he thinking, I wondered.  I've written 989 of these things (counting this one).  How in the world could I NOT repeat myself?  And I have scriptural authority to do so:

            Therefore I intend always to remind you of these qualities, though you know them and are established in the truth that you have. I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to stir you up by way of reminder, since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things, 2Pet 1:12-15.

            All things being equal, my departure should not be quite as imminent as Peter’s, but I will follow his example as long as I can by reminding you of things you have already heard at least once, if not a hundred times.

            And all that got me to thinking about the admitted reruns in the Bible—things the writers said were repeats of former lessons.  I did some research and have found a list of things these inspired men thought they should remind people of.  And that means I have a scripturally sound, ready-made list of things to remind you of.  And that’s what we will do every so often in the future.  Look for the title “Reruns” with some descriptive phrase after it.  I will try to put the series on Mondays when it happens, since that has been the practice of the past.  That means you are more likely to remember it, right?  Routine has its own built-in memory system.

            And if God thought these things were worth repeating, we should probably pay close attention.

Dene Ward