Nearly twenty years ago, while on his weekly rounds as a probation officer, Keith was ambushed and shot five times by one of the convicted felons assigned to him.  It was a terrifying experience.  The word spread through all branches of the Department of Corrections and law enforcement.  Once we were sure he would survive and the details of his success in handling it got out, we received well wishes and get well cards, emails and phone calls from people we did not even know, including the Secretary of the Department of Corrections.  

Probation officers all over the state congratulated him because it validated them as law enforcement officers themselves.  Many offered to donate some of their sick leave to him so he wouldn’t have to go on workman’s comp, which would have paid only 2/3 of his salary.  One of the news stories mentioned that he had been in the Marine Corps, and a couple of ex-Marines sent emails ending with the sentiment, “Semper Fi!’  Add this to the people who helped us that very night, including a local fireman who had heard the radio traffic, and after I had driven the forty miles to the town where this all happened and stopped at his station to ask directions, decided to drive me on the next 30 miles to the hospital.  He also called his wife to follow us in his own truck so he would have a ride home, dropped me off at the emergency room, parked the car, and paid the fee.

    Brothers in arms come out of the woodwork when a need arises.  They band together and support one another.  They offer service far beyond the minimum precisely because they are brothers.

    That’s the way the church is supposed to work.  We think we have found one that does.  When one of us has a serious surgery, the waiting room is full.  When there is an accident or medical emergency, the walls of the ER are lined with folks awaiting word.  Cars park along every piece of curb in our neighborhoods when one of us is called home.  The line to greet a wayward brother as he arrives back to his spiritual family fills the aisles to the back of the building.  When prayers are requested, if there were such a thing, the switchboard in Heaven would be jammed.  I know.  I have been on the receiving end of those times.  

    I am often bemused by things some do and do not allow to be announced during the services of the assembled church.  “That’s not a work of the church,” is patently false.  We are to “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.”  We are to “encourage one another to love and good works.”  We are to “train the younger” and “support the weak.”  We are to gather “from house to house” and “practice hospitality one to another.”  

If we can pray for it, why can’t it be announced?  And if we aren’t praying for the stability of newly married couples, the safe delivery of new babies and their mothers and the wisdom of new young parents, strength for recently graduated seniors set to go out and make their marks in the world, and thanking God for the examples of fiftieth wedding anniversaries, what in the world is wrong with us?  I can see Jesus shaking his head and muttering something about “straining at gnats and swallowing camels,” as we insist on the artificial boundary of a spoken “Amen” before we announce something in exactly the same room to exactly the same people.

    When something momentous happens in a Christian’s life, whether good or bad, his brothers and sisters in arms should come streaming out to meet him with whatever he needs.  He shouldn’t need to count on the world to support him and offer help.  And beyond that, they should be the daily spiritual support, the ones he counts on and runs to, and the ones he in turn aids far beyond the barest necessities.  Shame on any congregation when they are outshone by the carnal groups in this world.  They are supposed to be the spiritual family, the family of God.  When something happens in a family it affects them all, and this family should be the one that cares the most and gives the most because we all share the same Father, the same Savior, and the same salvation—undeserved grace.

    Brothers in arms are neither silent nor invisible.  If they are, then they aren’t the brothers they claim to be.  They know what binds them together and nothing can break that cord.

If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.  1Cor 12:26.

Dene Ward

We have a tendency to think of ourselves as far more enlightened than those who lived under the Old Law, far more knowledgeable, certainly, of things like the grace of God.  Nonsense.  Just listen to what Daniel had to say in 9:18.   For we do not present our supplications before you for OUR righteousness, but for your great mercies’ sake.  Can you think of a better definition of grace?
 
   Those folks also understood that here and now is not what matters, it is only a temporary stop on a journey to the Eternal.  

    Abraham and Sarah certainly understood that despite their relative wealth in their day and time, it was nothing to compare with what God had in store for them, even far beyond the Promised Land they wandered in.  They died in faith, not having received the promises but having greeted them from afar, and having confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on this earth, Heb 11:13.  

    And Moses, who could had the wealth of Egypt at his disposal, [chose] rather to share ill-treatment with the people of God than to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season, accounting the reproaches of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt, Heb 11:25,26.  The “reproaches of Christ?”  But he was an Old Testament character!  Of course he was, but he still “got it” better than many of us on this side of Malachi.

    Even Hannah, a humble woman of Ephraim, was able to recognize in her song of thanksgiving in 1 Samuel 2, Jehovah makes poor and he makes rich, he brings low and he lifts up, he raises up the poor out of the dust, he lifts up the needy from the dunghill and makes them sit with princes and inherit the throne of glory.  For the pillars of the earth are Jehovah’s and he has set the world upon them…not by his [own] might shall a man prevail.  Hannah knew that the circumstances of this life were not what counted—her God was in control and He would reward her.

    We could go on and on.  Ruth, who left home, family, familiar customs and language—her comfort zone, we might say today-- to go to a place where she had nothing to expect but a life of poverty and loneliness, not only as a widow, but also as an alien among God’s people.  Forget for a moment what actually happened to her.  She expected nothing but a hard life.  Yet she thought that being able to worship and serve this Jehovah she had learned of with the people He had chosen, was worth giving up any chance at an easier life in her native land.  She knew that it was not that physical land that mattered.

    So what about us “enlightened” folks?  Are we willing to give up anything and everything in this world, willing to endure anything and everything, willing to be different, to think differently, to act differently from everyone else no matter how uncomfortable that may make us, because we understand the importance of the Eternal, or do the tangible things of life tether us to this side of Eternity?  To which side of life are you tied today?

In this we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up in life.  He who has prepared us for this very thing is God…So we are always of good courage.  We know that while we are at home in the body, we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight.  Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord.  So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him, for we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done while in the body, whether good or evil, 2 Cor 5:2, 4-10.

Dene Ward

We’ve all seen those definitions of pessimism and optimism, the classic being the half-empty or half-full glass.  As a gardener, I’ve come up with my own. 

When you look out over your herb garden, do you see beautiful brightly colored butterflies flitting around, or does your mind’s eye conjure up green caterpillars on naked parsley stems, their leaves stripped away practically overnight?  I have a friend who is overjoyed at the sight of a butterfly.  I often have a difficult time sharing her joy.

But I recognize the problem.  Pessimism can easily turn to cynicism.  We want to rationalize that by calling it “being realistic.”  But here’s the difference:  
Realism understands that you won’t save everyone (Matt 7:13,14).  Cynicism doesn’t even try.  

Realism knows that you are unlikely to change the mind of that misled young man in the white shirt and tie who knocked on your door with Bible in hand, but it greets him with kindness and respect.  Cynicism views him not as a lost soul, but as an adversary and approaches him with sarcasm and downright hatefulness.

Realism knows that perhaps even a majority of those who ask for help at the meetinghouse door are making prey of good-hearted brethren, but it takes the time to politely ask a few questions and determine an appropriate action just in case.  Cynicism immediately tars them all with the same brush and sends them on empty-handed, both physically and spiritually.

Realism is compassion tempered with wisdom.  “Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”  Cynicism is malice fueled by pessimism.  It looks for the worst, it expects the worst, and ultimately it rejoices in finding it.  That is about as un-Christlike as it comes.

So watch the butterflies today and enjoy them.  You can always check for caterpillars in the parsley later, and then rejoice when you only find a few.

[Love} does not rejoice at unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  1Cor 13:6-7.

Dene Ward

It must be a sign of my “un-hipness.”  I never have, and I suppose I never will understand the desire to buy pants that look worn out right off the rack, faded, holey and torn.  Surely we have reached some sort of social neurosis when a symptom of poverty becomes the popular thing to do for even the wealthiest.

    The Holy Spirit did not go in for this obsession either.  In 1 Peter 1: 4 one of the wonderful things about our inheritance, He says, is that it will not “fade away.”

    When Disneyworld opened in Florida I was 19 years old.  It was the first time I had been to anything “Disney” at all, and I was entranced.  As we rode in on the monorail, I swiveled my head back and forth so much that I was literally “dizzy with delight.”  I laughed at all the corny jokes in the Haunted House elevator.  So much for trying so hard to make everyone think I was now “an adult.”  I could not get enough of all the fanciful details.  I didn’t even mind waiting in line!  Why they had air conditioning vents blowing out on you as you waited!  Isn’t that amazing?

    The first time I took my children they enjoyed it as much as I had.  We had saved money for a year and experienced that park the way it should be experienced, and it was nearly magical, even for us world-weary grown-ups, because we were seeing it again through the eyes of our inexperienced children.  

    But as my boys grew up and became involved in more and more school activities, they wound up going to Disneyworld for state competitions every year, sometimes twice a year.  By their senior years, it was old hat.  They spent more time in their hotel rooms than in the park itself.  It had become so familiar that it had lost its luster.  They even had unused Disney tickets sitting on their desks at home.  Can you imagine?

    Peter says that will never happen with our inheritance.  It will never lose its luster.  It will always be a wonder as if new, never trite or stale or boring.  Imagine every moment of Eternity being like the first time a small child sees the wonder of a grand amusement park—only so much better, a thousand, a million, a billion times over because it was created by God and not man.

    That is the inheritance we have waiting for us.  Somehow I don’t think we will want it to be used, torn, and full of holes.  Looking fresh and new and un-faded every single moment will be just fine.  

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to his great mercy begat us again unto a living hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, unto an inheritance incorruptible, and undefiled, and that fades not away, reserved in heaven for you, who by the power of God are guarded through faith unto a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time, 1 Pet 1:3-5..

Dene Ward

We planted the main garden the second week of March.  It looks great this year, and I have already put up what we need and more, and shared with people who probably wish I wouldn’t any more.

    When the cantaloupe row came up, which is Keith’s baby, he was happy to see it full with no bare spots.  I heard about it the day he saw the first bloom.  Then a couple of weeks later he came in with a funny look on his face.  

    “Let me show you something,” he said, and I followed him out the door straight to that row of cantaloupes.  “Look at those baby cantaloupes.”  So I bent over, lifted the leaves and looked, only to discover baby cucumbers instead.  He had gone out to plant without his glasses and used up the remains of what he thought was a packet of cantaloupe seeds on the first two hills.  Turns out that packet, which did not have a picture let me hasten to add, must have said, “Cucumber.”  So the first two hills in the cantaloupe row are cucumbers.

    Is that bad?  Well, yes and no.  I already had plenty of cucumber hills planted, and these two extra hills are some of the most prolific bearers I have ever seen.  I have made my pickles and still my refrigerator is overflowing.  

    And it turns out these two hills are the best tasting of the bunch.  But since he tossed that empty packet of “cantaloupe” seeds, we have no idea what kind they were.  I have been experimenting with new varieties the past two years and these were leftovers from the year before.

    Then there is the fact that his row is two hills short of cantaloupe, which to him is a catastrophe.  So what can we learn from all this?

    Well, I doubt he will ever forget to wear his glasses when he plants the garden again.  But what about us?

    I suppose the obvious point is this—you will reap what you sow.  Thinking it is cantaloupe won’t make cucumber seeds produce them.  That old “sowing his wild oats” adage is the stupidest thing I ever heard.  All he will get, whoever he is, is wild oats.  You don’t “get it out of your system” and think you will produce anything else.  “Be sure your sin will find you out.”

    What are you sowing in your children?  What do they hear you say?  Please do not make the mistake of thinking they do not pick up on sarcastic comments and hypercritical statements, even at a very early age.  Children tend to think that everything that goes wrong is their fault, usually because they have to deal with the foul tempers of parents who take it out on them.

    What about their entertainment?  What words are being sown in their active little minds?  What ideas?  What priorities?  What character traits?  Do you even know what they are watching?  

    What about their friends?  I have had children in my home whose parents never once called or even darkened my door.  One time I had a young man for the whole weekend.  He came home with my sons on Friday and we put him on the bus Monday morning!  We didn’t mind a bit, but where was his mama?  

    What about yourself?  What are you sowing?  What is your entertainment?  What is your reading material?  Where do you go and with whom?  If you find yourself saying things you never said before, maybe it’s time to change friends.  They are sowing more in you than you are in them.

    Check the seed packet this morning before you go out.  Check it again when you come in.  Make sure you are sowing the seed of the Word of God, not only in your friends, but in your children, and in yourself.  And put on your glasses when you do.

For they sow the wind and they shall reap the whirlwind…Sow to yourself in righteousness, reap according to kindness…Hos 8:7; 10:12.

Just a note here.  We have recently discovered that some of our articles on the right sidebar have been deleted.  We are not certain when or how this happened.  Please bear with us as we try to put three years worth of work back together, and if you have any suggestions or ideas, they are welcome!

Dene Ward

I have noticed something about Judges 13 that most people seem to miss.  Usually we get into a discussion about Samson’s origins, and how his parents were so careful to do what God told them to do even before he was born, a good discussion to be sure.  But I like to point out something else that is just as helpful to me as I try to live my life as a disciple of Christ.

I find the difference between Samson’s parents amusing.  God knew exactly what He was doing when He approached Manoah’s wife instead of Manoah himself with the news that they would finally have a son.  His wife did run to tell him, as any woman would, but we immediately get the picture of a man so excited he cannot quite think straight.  He wants to see this messenger too, so when “the man of God” returns, his wife dutifully brings him.  After hearing the same message, Manoah insists on fixing a meal which “the man” says must be an offering to God instead, an offering which is immediately ignited, taking “the man” with it.  Wow!  This must be an angel!  Now Manoah is really excited!  “We’re going to die!” he screams to his wife.

This calm, practical woman probably sighed before telling him, “Nonsense.  If we were going to die, why would he tell us that this was going to happen to us and how to act until then?”  The inference is that with this bit of common sense she managed to soothe her frantic husband and then did exactly as she was told, altering her diet so that Samson was indeed a Nazirite “from the womb” as God had promised.  Her lack of frenzy did not make her less faithful.  She was instead a woman who managed to temper her enthusiasm enough to actually get the job done.  

It is a big mistake to judge someone’s faith by how loud it is.  Too many times we get caught up in the excitement, roused up by the passion, ignited with the zeal, only to have it burn out, leaving us in a pile of ashes, never having accomplished more than a tiny of piece of our mission, if any at all..  Towering flames may make a beautiful spectacle, but softly glowing coals cook the meal and heat the home far better, and like them, true faith is usually a quiet one that accomplishes the task, even if it is tedious and disagreeable, and simply never goes out.

Faith is a man who gets up every morning and goes out to provide for his family, whether he likes his job or not.  Faith is the woman who cares for her family and her home, as well as the sick and poor in her community, as well as she can, even if the chore gets nasty and no one else notices what she has done.  Faith is the teenager who has the maturity and integrity to rise above his fellows—and in spite of his fellows—in choosing the values he will live by.  Faith is the retired couple who spend much of their free time visiting and having people in their home, usually people who can never return the favor.  Faith is the widow who goes to the meetinghouse on Monday and Thursday to keep the classrooms in order, file the bulletin boards, and run off the newsletter, and has it all taken for granted—or even complained about.  Faith is the widower who still comes in every Sunday morning and quietly takes his seat, now empty of the love of his life, but who manages to worship with all his heart anyway, knowing full well that he will see her again.  

Real faith is practical.  It may not be exciting; it may not make the headlines of the local paper; sometimes it may not even be pleasant; but real people who do what needs to be done with a quiet consistency are the ones we should set up as role models for our children.  It takes a far bigger man to do something he may not really like to do simply because it needs doing, than a man who only does the things he enjoys doing.  True faith needs neither the acclamation nor the adrenaline rush to endure. 

Keep at it.  Keep plugging along.  Someone is noticing, actually a lot of someones, and your faith will be the example that sustains them as well.

And you, being in time past alienated and enemies in your mind in your evil works,  yet now has he reconciled in the body of his flesh through death, to present you holy and without blemish and unreproveable before him: if so be that you continue in the faith, grounded and steadfast, and not moved away from the hope of the gospel which you heard, Col 1:23-24.

Dene Ward

Recently someone asked me how I keep from being depressed in my situation.  I was so shocked I stumbled a bit in my answer, finally saying, “Well it certainly wouldn’t help things, so why would I want to do that?”  I got a strange look.  I suppose most people think of “depressed” as something you are, not something you do, but that never has made sense to me.  All those books, TV shows, and movies revolving around people who fall apart after some sort of shocking revelation, never have made sense to me. So a bad thing has happened.  You know what?  The laundry still needs washing, the bills still need paying, and the dog still has an appointment at the vet for her rabies shot.  I guess I am just a little too practical.

But I remember once, many years ago, when I was unable to keep a tear from leaking out in front of my little boy.  We were preparing to move, and after several days of packing and cleaning, and saying good-bye to yet another good friend, it just got away from me.  He asked what was wrong.  

I never tried to hide things from my children.  I told them what I thought they could understand at the time they asked.  He would not have understood about the other problems of a move, but he had little friends himself that I knew he would miss, so I said, “It’s just sad to leave your friends.”

He put his arms around my neck and patted my back.  “It’s all right, mama.  You will always have Jesus.”

That nearly undid me for good, but I managed to smile and say, “You are right.  And so will you.”  Then we went on with the task of packing, and managed a laugh or two before long.

As I think back on that now, I believe he had the answer I should have given this friend.  Somehow a four year old understood that no matter what happens, we are never alone.  What he did not say, but which struck me right between the eyes when I thought about it, was that when we allow ourselves to be depressed over this life, we are being singularly ungrateful to Christ for what He did for us.  If this life were all there was, then we ought to be depressed.  "If we have only hoped in Christ in this life, we are of all men most pitiable" 1 Cor 15:19.  But He gave up a lot so we could have hope for the next life.  I will not slap Him in the face by acting like anything in this life is important enough to take away the joy I have in a relationship with Him.

That does not mean that some days are not difficult, especially when the pain is worse or the vision is obviously less.  But I do not wallow like a pig in the muddy misery.  I choose not to, in part because a four year old reminded me not to.

From now on, when someone asks, I think I will just use my little boy’s answer—which I hope he has not forgotten either.  How can I be depressed when I have a Savior who loves me?

For it became him, for whom are all things, and through whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto glory, to make the author of their salvation perfect through sufferings. For both he that sanctifies and they that are sanctified are all of one: for which cause he is not ashamed to call them brethren, Heb 2:10,11.

Dene Ward

Sometime back a young lady came up to a friend of mine and said, “I want to be a sweet little old lady when I get older.  How do I do that?”

    I can imagine myself asking the same question when I was young.  I guess I thought there was a magic age, a time when suddenly I would understand everything and feel wise.  It hasn’t happened yet, and youth left me a long time ago.  

    My wise friend looked at this young woman and said, “The way to become a sweet little old lady is to be a sweet young lady.”

    She is so right.  I can guarantee you that every grumpy old man you know was once a grumpy young one, and every bitter old lady you know was a bitter young one.  You will not suddenly become wise just because you have aged, and you will not suddenly become good-natured either.  It reminds me of something I heard on an audio book recently:  there are no happy endings, only happy people.  

    And isn’t that what we Christians are supposed to be, happy?  Yet it seems I meet more and more unhappy Christians.  Maybe we do not dwell enough on the hope we have—or maybe we simply don’t believe it.  If I do believe in that hope, it will show in the things that do and do not upset me, in the things that do and do not discourage me.  It will show in how I treat people, even those who are not kind or who actively mistreat me.  It will show in the way I put others ahead of myself and my own desires, serving as well as I can in whatever situation I am in.  Isn’t that what a sweet little old lady does, or a kind and pleasant old man?  I have known many in my lifetime.  Christians should always become sweet little old ladies and kind and pleasant old men because they believe that here and now is not the end of the matter.  They understand that very soon they will see a happy beginning that never ends--and they believe it.

    If you want to be a sweet little old lady when you grow up, start working on it today, whatever your age, or you will never make it in time.

Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding, for the gain from her is better than gain from silver and her profit better than gold. She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her.  Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.  She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called blessed, Prov 3:13-18.

Dene Ward

Four letters, “weight allowance.”  I have seen it in crossword puzzles so many times that I automatically write in “tret,” even though I have no idea what it is talking about.  Finally I looked it up.  Tret is (or was?) the weight allowance given to buyers of certain commodities, usually four pounds per hundred, to make up for deterioration during transit and impurities like sand and dust.  So if they order one hundred pounds, they actually receive one hundred and four, the idea being that they will have at least one hundred pounds of product in that one hundred and four pounds.  

    That made me think about grace.  God supplies what we lack in perfection because of our sin.  Only the ratio is backwards—I am sure He allows at least one hundred pounds of grace for every four pounds of our faith and obedience, probably far more.

    We also make such allowances for each other.  When we know someone has been through a rough time, it is easier to take their snappy comment with equanimity.  When we love as we ought, our love covers a multitude of sins, 1 Pet 4:8.  

    However, the need to make allowances for things like that should eventually disappear as we all grow to maturity in Christ.  Shouldn’t a man who has been a Christian forty years no longer be watching and waiting for the Bible class teacher or preacher to make a comment he can raise a fuss about?  Yet how many times have I heard young preachers told, “It’s just old brother So-and-So.  That’s just the way he is.”  Why is he still that way?  Hasn’t anyone told him how much he hurts people with that behavior?  I wonder how many young preachers were expected to make so many allowances for so many things that they just gave up preaching.  Why doesn’t anyone make allowances for them?

    Is old sister So-and-So still managing to take offense at everything anyone says and jumping on them with both feet?  Hasn’t anyone told her that she is wrong to treat people that way?  Oh yes, I know what they will hear back, but we are not doing her any favors to let her keep on this way.  The Lord certainly won’t make allowances for it.

    But the larger question for me is this:  are people continually making allowances, “tret,” for me?  Am I the one causing consternation, making people walk on eggshells around me, and stealing everyone’s pleasure with my bad attitude?  God’s grace works for people who are trying their best to do right and still fail, not for those who make a career out of bitterness, criticism, and cynicism and expect everyone, including God, to just accept it..  My “tret” should become smaller and smaller as I mature as a Christian, leaving infancy behind and becoming full-grown.  

    Where do I stand today?  A 50 year old baby is no longer cute, and to take the grace of God for granted in such a way must surely be an abomination to Him.

For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.  Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has spurned the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace?  Heb 10:26-29.

Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.  If you missed part 1, check out the May 11, 2015 post in the archives on the right sidebar.

The discussions between Job and his friends were the last place I expected to find expressions of hope from Job. He has lost everything, despite his righteousness. His friends are accusing him of sins and refusing to listen to anything he says. Even his wife is encouraging him to turn from God. And yet, a major theme of Job's speeches in the second cycle of arguments is hope. It comes up at least four times: Job 13:15, 14:14-17, 17:13-16, and 19:25-27.

Now, before a theologian or linguist attacks, let me say I know that the Hebrew is unclear in Job 13 and that the expressions of hope in Job 14 and 17 are open to some differing interpretations. However, each cycle of speeches contains its own themes. Job develops his ideas throughout each cycle and then moves on in the next. With a clear expression of great hope in the second cycle's penultimate speech and a 50/50 expression in the first speech, the definite possibilities of expressed hope in the middle speeches should be at least considered.

Let's start at the end and work back. Chapter 19 is Job's summation of how alone he feels. He begins by pleading with his friends to stop tormenting him. He then details how God has seemingly turned against him and will no longer listen (vs. 6-12). Vs. 13-19 tell how the people he would normally have relied on in times of trouble have forsaken him: brothers, relatives, house guests, servants, wife, intimate friends, even the children in the street back talk him now. Then, in verse 20, his body itself has turned against him. His friends torment him, his God has punished him unjustly (he thinks), his friends and family have forsaken him, his body fails him, and in the midst of all that he then says: "For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God," Job 19:25-26. Yes, I know, the Hebrew here is especially garbled. We don't know whether it should be "in my flesh I shall see God" or "without my flesh I shall see God". Several of the phrases here and in the next verse have up to a dozen different possible translations. But what is clear in this passage is Job's statements "For I know that my Redeemer lives" and "I shall see God". We can argue about the rest of it until we are all blue in the face and IT DOESN'T MATTER ONE BIT to the interpretation of Job's speech. His life is falling apart. Everything he would normally rely upon has been taken away. Even God seems to be against him. And in all that turmoil, in the cyclone that has become his life, Job says "I know that my Redeemer lives" and "I shall see God." Despite everything, Job holds fast to the hope that God would redeem him. His hope remained firmly attached to God even when his senses told him that God was against him. Amazing faith. This is clear from chapter 19. If this is not some extraordinary one-time statement, but rather the concluding statement of a theme that runs through the second cycle of speeches, then how does that affect the interpretation of other passages?

Job 13:15a "Though he slay me, I will hope in him;" Another possible interpretation is "he will slay me, I have no hope". If you ask 100 scholars their opinion 40 will vote for the first option, 40 will vote for the second, and 20 will be honest enough to say "I don't know". Apparently, the Hebrew is very unclear. However, this is the first mention of hope in any context and it is at the beginning of the cycle which contains Job's monumental expression of hope just six chapters later. I am unqualified to argue the linguistics (I am barely qualified to spell linguistics) but I can understand themes in writing and this seems like the beginning of a thread that culminates in chapter 19. Based on that, I will argue for the first interpretation "Though he slay me, I will hope in him;"

Then we have Job 14:13-17 "Oh that you would hide me in Sheol, that you would conceal me until your wrath be past, that you would appoint me a set time, and remember me! If a man dies, shall he live again? All the days of my service I would wait, till my renewal should come. You would call, and I would answer you; you would long for the work of your hands. For then you would number my steps; you would not keep watch over my sin; my transgression would be sealed up in a bag, and you would cover over my iniquity." Job is willing to hide in the grave (Sheol) until God's wrath is past? Sure! He expresses confidence that God would remember him. If a man dies, shall he live again? Sure! Job is positive that his renewal will come. God would long for Job and call for him. What is involved in that renewal? God would seal up Job's transgressions in a bag and cover his iniquity. Tell me, is this anything other than hope? And don't be confused because immediately after this passage Job seems to fall back into despair. There was a form of argument in ancient times in which the speaker would surround his conclusion with two ideas considered but rejected. This is exactly what we see in Job 14, with this wonderful expression of hope surrounded by passages of despair. It is confusing to us only because we went to Western schools instead of learning rhetoric in the Near East of a few millennia ago.

Job 17:13-16 is usually considered a downer of a passage, but I think it is exactly the opposite. Its "if-then" nature demands a conclusion and only one conclusion is rational. "If I hope for Sheol as my house, if I make my bed in darkness, if I say to the pit, 'You are my father,' and to the worm, 'My mother,' or 'My sister,' where then is my hope? Who will see my hope? Will it go down to the bars of Sheol? Shall we descend together into the dust?"" If I hope for the grave, then where is my hope? Who will see it? This is not despair, but rather a rejection of despair! The contrast is between hoping in the grave and Job's previous expressions of hope, especially in chapter 14. 'Will it [my hope] go down to the bars of Sheol? Shall we descend together into the dust?' That is a description of despair, and it is described in question form. In the Bible when these question forms are used, they are almost always rhetorical questions whose implied answer is "No!" This is not Job giving up, but rather Job declaring that he won't give up, that he won't stop hoping in God.

So what do we have? Job saying that even if he dies he will not stop hoping in God. Job declaring a clear hope for a renewal with God, being clean from sin, after the grave. Job refusing to despair, but clinging to hope. Job declaring that despite the turmoil in his life, despite being forsaken and rejected by his friends, family, and wife, and despite God's apparent temporary enmity that he knows that his Redeemer lives and that he will one day see God.

My only remaining question is, if Job can express such wonderful hope despite his overwhelming troubles, what do I have to feel depressed about?

Lucas Ward