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The Naomi Project 1

10/27/2014 3 Comments

    I do not appreciate mother-in-law jokes. If you tell them and you have a mother-in-law, then you must realize that your mother is also a mother-in-law. Are you talking about her too?

   As a mother-in-law myself, I try hard to be what I ought to be both for my son and his wife, who is now not just my daughter-in-law, but in my mind, my daughter, especially in the spirit. I think I might be a bit more sensitive to this than most—you see, my mother-in-law did not like me. Even after 39 years of trying, I never made the cut.

   To her credit, she was a fine Christian woman. She stayed faithful to the Lord despite family opposition, her husband’s severe illnesses and injuries, financial woes, and worst of all, losing a child to cancer. She converted her husband and raised both of her remaining children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. After all, I married one of them, and I know much of what she went through and exactly how she raised him.

   She had many things going against her but managed to stay faithful, raise godly children, and never lose the joy of her relationship with her Lord. To have done all that despite her many and severe trials makes our lack of a relationship more than forgivable. I was certainly less than the least of all those things she did accomplish.

   But I do not want my daughter-in-law to miss out on what should be a wonderful relationship. So I have decided to begin a new study—the ideal mother-in-law, which is what I want to be for Brooke. That’s what we will be discussing together for the next several Mondays.

   It is not difficult to find mothers-in-law in the Bible. The difficult thing is finding a detailed relationship between a mother- and daughter-in-law. Isaac and Rebekah both were “grieved” by the first two women Esau married, but they were Canaanites, Hittites to be specific, Gen 26:34,35. Although their complaints came before the actual marriage, Samson’s parents had the same problem with their future daughter-in-law, Judges 14:3—she was a Philistine.

   Tamar was Judah’s daughter-in-law but that is a situation so complex as to be unusable in our discussion. I can know that others surely had in-laws, but I do not know how they got along without making suppositions far beyond the realm of authenticity.

   No, the best example we can find is the usual one—Naomi and Ruth, and let’s not forget Orpah, who is often tarred with accusations she does not deserve. So I plan to study those in depth the next few Mondays to see how we can all improve our in-law relationships. I hope you will make a point to join me.

…a man of Bethlehem in Judah went to sojourn in the country of Moab, he and his wife and his two sons. The name of the man was Elimelech and the name of his wife Naomi, and the names of his two sons were Mahlon and Chilion. They were Ephrathites from Bethlehem in Judah. They went into the country of Moab and remained there. But Elimelech, the husband of Naomi, died, and she was left with her two sons. These took Moabite wives; the name of the one was Orpah and the name of the other Ruth. They lived there about ten years, and both Mahlon and Chilion died, so that the woman was left without her two sons and her husband. Then she arose with her daughters-in-law to return from the country of Moab, for she had heard in the fields of Moab that the LORD had visited his people and given them food. So she set out from the place where she was with her two daughters-in-law, and they went on the way to return to the land of Judah, Ruth 1:1-7.
Dene Ward

Three Ways to Profane God's Name

10/24/2014 9 Comments

Have you noticed that no one can speak two sentences without taking the name of the Lord in vain? Even children are uttering a phrase that once was never spoken in polite company, that men begged a lady’s pardon for saying, that television censors bleeped. When you have an abbreviation for it, it has become entirely too common. I have a friend who wants to make tee shirts with “omg” under the universal “not allowed” sign of a circle with a slash. But that three word monstrosity is just the first, and most obvious way to take God’s name in vain.

   Recently, while I was doing some research, I came across a website called Judaism 101. At the top, the following phrase caught my eye: Please note that this page contains the name of God. If you print it out, please treat it with appropriate respect.

   Oh, how we need this lesson today, and I don’t just mean the heathen out there in the world.

   The name of God stands for far more than just what to call Him. It stands for His essence and nature. It represents His history and reputation. And I will sanctify my great Name which has been profaned among the nations, Ezek 36:23. How would you feel if your “good name,” as we speak of this concept, were thrown around carelessly, used in sarcastic movie or book titles, or joked about? Yet it goes much farther than that.

   In Judaism, any act that causes God to come into disrespect or a commandment to be broken is often referred to as profaning the name of God. This makes sense when you realize that any good deed we do is spoken of as “sanctifying” or “glorifying” his name. Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:16. One is just the opposite of the other, and there you have the second way to profane the Name of God—disobey or cause someone else to disobey Him.

   Number three hits a little closer to home. The Name of God stands for His Authority. Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the Name of the Lord, Col 3:17. If a policeman yells out, “Stop in the name of the law,” he is telling you that the law of the land gives him the authority to stop you, and you had better do it or pay the consequences. Too many of my brethren are out there pooh-poohing God’s Authority these days, as if “authority” were a bad word. When you act without God’s authority, you are profaning His Name as surely as if you spoke it in vain. You have no respect for that Authority, nor, thus, for His Name.

   The website I mentioned listed several things that orthodox Jews will and will not do in reference to the Name of God. Some of them seem awfully, well, Pharisaic comes to mind. But at least they have the right idea, while we bandy about The Name of God as if it were just any other word, then profane it with careless, or even scornful attitudes, disobey His commands because they don’t suit us, and rationalize our way out of a life of sacrificial service because it’s “too hard” and “makes me feel like a failure.” Disrespecting the authority of God is one and the same as profaning His Name, and conservative fundamentalists take part in it every day. Number three is the scary one because it is so easy to fall into and still think you are just fine because you are so prone to shout Amen and Hallelujah.

   God is Holy. His Name is Holy. His essence is Holiness. Anything I say or do that detracts from that Holiness profanes His Name. It can be a careless phrase. It can be downright disobedience. It can be deciding for God what He will and won’t mind. Meditate on that awhile. Stand in awe of a God whose Name is so powerful it created the worlds, and be just a little scared of how you treat it.

There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like yours. All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name. For you are great and do wondrous things; you alone are God. Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name. I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever. Psalms 86:8-12

Dene Ward

The Best Cup of Coffee

10/23/2014 0 Comments

I think maybe I have discovered something that will help me a lot.

   The best cup of coffee is not the four-dollar, imported-from-some-exotic-place, freshly roasted, even more freshly ground cup you get at that boutique coffee shop. The best cup of coffee is the one you drink from a cracked ceramic cup in front of a campfire on a chilly morning, the smell of bacon mingling with the smoke from that same wood fire and the vapors of the coffee, maybe even a few drops of bitter oils floating on top of it because the propane camp stove is harder to control and sometimes the coffee comes just a little too close to a simmer. When you are cold, nothing tastes better than something warm.

   Even tomato soup from that red and white can tastes pretty good. It doesn’t matter if the seasoning is not well-balanced (too much sugar and salt and little else). It doesn’t matter if there is no complex depth of flavor, just candied tomatoes and tin can. Those niggling little details make no difference to you at that moment. It’s warm and you appreciate that. If you have never been truly cold, so cold that your insides quiver and you can hardly make your hands work and keep your mind functioning, you have never tasted a truly good cup of coffee or a good bowl of soup, no matter how much either cost you, or how many gourmets raved about it.

   So why will that help me get through life? Just think about this: How do people who have a terrible disease, or who have experienced one calamity after the other, or who are unfairly oppressed for their beliefs, or who come within inches of death, still smile and laugh, still enjoy life and keep their faith? Because when you have a REAL problem, suddenly you understand what is important. You are able to find pleasure in the little things. You can feel joy in watching a sunset. You can find happiness in seeing children play. You can experience contentment in even just one moment of normalcy. You can enjoy peace in the company of those who love you, even if they are not perfect. Suddenly their imperfections become insignificant.

   I cannot think of any instance where griping is anything but a sign of ingratitude. When we whine about the inconsequential things, when we complain about the traffic, the weather, the petty grievances against others and the annoyances of life, then maybe we need a catastrophe to wake us up to what really matters. Sadly, that is often what it takes to get our priorities in order. Some things are just more important than others but, just as it takes a nearly hypothermic person to enjoy what he might ordinarily consider a mediocre cup of coffee, it often takes a disaster to force us to recognize how blessed we truly are.

   We could be even happier if we did not always have to learn that the hard way.

Behold, what I have seen to be good and fitting is to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of his life that God has given him, for this is his lot. Everyone also to whom God has given wealth and possessions and power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil -- this is the gift of God. For he will not much remember [brood about] the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart Eccl 5:18-20.

Dene Ward

Moles

10/22/2014 0 Comments

Chloe doesn’t have much of a sense of smell thanks to her doggie allergies, which alternately cause congestion or a runny nose. We can throw her a treat and then sit for several minutes unbothered while she searches for it in the grass. But her sense of hearing must be amazing.

   She can distinguish our car engine all the way from the highway, almost a half mile. I’ve seen her sit there and watch for Keith for several minutes before he even gets to the gate, before the dogs along the lane begin to bark at his passing because she hears “him” coming.

   And she can hear moles digging underground. We will be walking along outside when suddenly she stands at point, looking at the grass just ahead of her, then pounces and begins digging, her snout in nearly to her eyeballs as she digs and sniffs (bless her heart, she tries) and searches. Many times she has brought out the mole and disposed of it. This year we have had plenty for her to work on.

   Moles are small mammals, insectivores, adapted to a subterranean lifestyle. They have tiny or invisible eyes and ears. They have developed the ability to survive in a low oxygen environment by reusing oxygen inhaled aboveground. That also means they can tolerate the higher levels of carbon dioxide that would poison most mammals. They avoid each other except in breeding season and fight whenever they do meet. I couldn’t even find a word for a group of moles. They aren’t herds or swarms or gaggles or flocks. Maybe that’s because the word is unnecessary since they never get together.

   Think about all that. Does it sound familiar?

   Do you know any people with small eyes and ears, many of whom are blind?

   Why do you not understand my speech? [Even] because you cannot hear my word, John 8:43.

   In their case the god of this world has blinded the minds of the unbelievers, to keep them from seeing the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. 2 Cor 4:4.

   Do you know a group who reuses old oxygen, failing to bring in any new work to revitalize its heart, poisoning itself in the process?

   Thus making void the word of God by your tradition that you have handed down, Mark 7:13.

   Do you know a group that avoids each other except in season (Sundays) and then fights when they do meet?

   Whence [come] wars and whence [come] fightings among you? [come they] not hence, [even] of your pleasures that war in your members? James 4:1.

   But if you bite and devour one another, take heed that you be not consumed one of another, Gal 5:15.

   If all that sounds like a group you know, even if they call themselves the body of Christ, they are only pretenders. That is not what he gave his life for
.
   I am certain you could come up with other comparisons yourself. But don’t waste your time on that or you are in danger of becoming one of those moles yourself, festering underground in your own poison. Just do what you can by being what you ought to be. Moles are ugly, in more ways than one. It shouldn’t take much motivation to try not to become one.

"There are those who rebel against the light, who are not acquainted with its ways, and do not stay in its paths. The murderer rises before it is light, that he may kill the poor and needy, and in the night he is like a thief. The eye of the adulterer also waits for the twilight, saying, 'No eye will see me'; and he veils his face. In the dark they dig through houses; by day they shut themselves up; they do not know the light. Job 24:13-16.

Dene Ward

A Big Stink

10/21/2014 1 Comments

I was nearly out of lotion and saw a sale--some fancy stuff for the same price as good old Lubriderm. I stood there at the display amid way too many choices. How do you decide between apple pomegranate, vanilla fluff, gingerbread, sugar plum, lemon twist, and blue ocean? Well, I was afraid the last one would make me smell like salt cod so that was a no-brainer.

    I picked up the gingerbread tube and thought I would just flip open the top and give it a sniff. Nothing. I do have more trouble these days smelling things because of all the medications. So I decided to give the tube a light squeeze so a puff of scented air from inside the tube would give me a better whiff.

    Instead of air, a big glop of orange creamsicle-colored lotion shot straight into the air and arced over to the catchall shelf of sorts that I carry in front of me. Plop! A big orange spot appeared on my bright blue sweater.

    Wait! Is anyone looking? Did anyone see? I looked around guiltily and then, because I had nothing else with me, started wiping if off with my finger. The sweater was dark enough and nubby enough that the spot no longer showed, but I had a big dollop of lotion to get rid of and the best I could think was to just rub it into my hands and arms. I am sure the security people were laughing their heads off as they viewed the monitor that picked up this “I Love Lucy” moment.

    You know what? I did not like the smell. A friend later asked me if I had spilled machine oil all over myself. No, just gingerbread body lotion, and I carried it about with me for a long eight hour day because I had a doctor’s appointment afterward. Yuk!

    Let that be a lesson to you. Sometimes we start wondering what we are missing out there in the big, bad world. I have been good all my life—brought up “in the church,” taught to obey all authorities--parents, teachers, policemen--memorized all the no-nos for a Christian, and the scriptures to go along with them. If all those things out there are so bad, why do so many spend their lives pursuing them? What do they know that I don’t? Just one little whiff is all I want.

    But that little whiff can easily become a big glop of smelly stuff that we carry with us far longer than the actual experience lasts. Consequences can raise a big stink in your life. In fact, they can ruin your life, and even the lives of those you love and have no desire to hurt.

    It is not a question of what those folks out there know that you don’t; it’s a question of what you know that they don’t—that sin is deceptively easy to fall into and sometimes impossible to get out of. God will forgive you, but he will not wash away the consequences—like ruined relationships, like destroyed trust, like physical diseases or injuries, like jail time and a record that follows you everywhere.

    Though I did not really like it much, that little glop of lotion did not smell quite that bad when it landed on my sweater. But as the day grew longer, it began to reek. Sin will do exactly the same thing.

There is no soundness in my flesh because of your indignation; there is no health in my bones because of my sin. For my iniquities have gone over my head; like a heavy burden, they are too heavy for me. My wounds stink and fester because of my foolishness, I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all the day I go about mourning. For my sides are filled with burning, and there is no soundness in my flesh. I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin. Do not forsake me, O LORD! O my God, be not far from me! Make haste to help me, O Lord, my salvation! Selected verses from the 38th Psalm.

Dene Ward

I Choose...

10/20/2014 0 Comments

As we brought not-quite-five-year-old Silas home with us for Vacation Bible School last summer, he squirmed a bit in his booster seat, eying the long crowded highway ahead of us and the “boring” scenery of rolling green pastureland in Florida horse farm country.

   “How long will it be?” he asked, the perennial question of travelers.

   “It will be awhile,” I said, “but if you were to fall asleep, the trip would be over in a flash. Suddenly you would wake up and we’re there!”

   He lifted an eyebrow and gave me a skeptical look. “But I don’t like naps,” he firmly stated, with his little arms crossed.

   “Well,” I said with one of those what-do-you-do sighs, “that’s your choice. Either a long wait or a nap.”

   He thought a minute and finally, categorically stated with a firm nod on each word “I choose a long wait.”

   Five minutes later he was asleep. He never has been able to stay awake in a car, something I hope will change by the time he turns 16 and starts driving.

   I couldn’t help wondering how many of us look at the choices set before us and stubbornly make the wrong one. God tells us how dangerous the world is. He warns against deception and trickery. He tells us our salvation is our own responsibility so be careful who you follow. Yet even when we look at the choices side by side, we seem so drawn to the wrong ones. They are immediate. They are tangible. They are pleasant. The idea of something far superior in the future seems to be pie in the sky. “A bird in the hand…” the old saying goes, and we fall for it nearly every time.

   It would be so much easier if God made the choice for us, if he made the sleep overwhelm us involuntarily so the trip would be over in an instant, but where is the glory in a creature who cannot choose?

   The idea that God did not give us a choice is, of course, a fairly common theological doctrine. Yet it limits God in ability and creativity. It makes Him a respecter of persons. It makes Him unsympathetic and unapproachable, a tyrant who makes decisions seemingly at random, playing with the eternal souls of people as if they were plastic action figures. That is not the God of the Bible. There are too many heart-rending pleas for us to return. There are too many passages giving options to people in all sorts of situations, including whether or not they will serve Him for that to be true.

   He gave me a choice; he gave you a choice. Make the right one.

I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, the blessing and the curse: therefore choose life, that you may live, you and your seed, Deut 30:19.

Dene Ward

Roll and Wrestle

10/17/2014 0 Comments

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When I had boys I was scared to death. Growing up there was just my sister and I, and most of the boys I knew at church were wild. In fact, quite a few left the church as soon as they could. I just knew I would never be able to raise good boys.

I had never reckoned with Keith. He was determined to raise those boys “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” He never expected me to do it alone, and he started when they were young. Even if he could not nurse them, he got up when they cried in the night and brought them to me. He often sat there talking to them while they nursed, when he could have been sleeping, so they would early on associate both our voices with that comforting process.

Every evening he gave them their baths so I would have enough uninterrupted time to do the things I needed to do—wash the evening dishes, finish folding the laundry, and other necessary things. A few times he sent me out right after the afternoon nursing to “do whatever you want,” while he sat with them, usually playing or reading to them. Other times I would hear their voices wafting through the kitchen window, singing about the “wee little man.” while he held them up on the lowest limb of “the Zaccheus tree,” a sapling in the backyard

Play usually involved acting out Bible stories. It was so handy that Daddy was bigger than they, so he could be Goliath, or “the big fish,” swallowing them up by covering them with his body until they had prayed for “three days and nights.” As they grew older, the play became more spirited. “Let’s play ‘roll and wrestle,’ Daddy,” was followed by thumps and giggles, and muffled shrieks of laughter as they took turns tackling Daddy in the middle of the living room floor and then rolling around as far as they could without knocking something over. They never knew that Daddy was watching out for the furniture and carefully moderating his strength so he would not hurt them. They just knew that Daddy would get down in the floor and play with them whenever they asked him to.

My favorite snapshot from those days is the one I took standing in the front door looking down on three mud-covered bodies. It was summer and a soft, warm rain made it perfect for a mud fight. They went out and had the time of their lives, then knocked on the front door. I opened it to see Nathan on Keith’s shoulders and Lucas standing just in front of his legs, head about waist high, all three shirtless in grungy, mud-spattered cut-offs. I think. I did see three sets of eyes and grinning white teeth somewhere in all that brown mud. Clean-up was just as much fun since it involved using a hose before they could even step inside the house.

He didn’t just involve himself in their fun. He taught them how to work, how to be gentlemen, and how to study the Bible, among other manly pursuits.

Keith started being a dad before those boys were even born, and has kept it up. He was not above changing diapers. In fact, one of his own original sayings is that if a Dad cannot change the messy diapers, he won’t be much use in later years when the messes of life afflict his children either.

Keith will tell you that 90% of the convicted felons who sit across the desk from him did not have fathers in their homes. He does not bother to check out what kind of father, or whether the marriage was a good one. That makes that little fact even more important. Even the mere presence of a father can make a huge difference. Imagine the difference it would make if he were really trying to be a good one.

Dads, you know what you need to do today. The buck stops at you.

Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, Eph 6:4.

Dene Ward

To the Rescue!

10/16/2014 0 Comments

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After a hard day and a bad night, I was late getting up the other morning. Already behind, I decided to start a load of laundry before dressing. As I stood there in the laundry room I thought I heard someone outside calling from a long way off. I almost didn’t—I was behind and did not need the interruption--but finally I opened the door. Calling is not the word. Screaming is more like it. “No! No! Oh noooooo!” a voice I finally realized was my neighbor’s pierced the morning mist through the woods and across the creek.

As fast as I could, I pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed a sweater, slipped on shoes, and put the cell phone in my pocket. Despite the early morning gloom of the woods, I made it to the creek without stumbling. Providence, surely, since I trip over everything now. Across the narrow stream the house stood quiet and peaceful. Either everything was okay, or everyone was already dead.

Not being one of those stupid girls in the horror movies who go down into the basement to check out the noise without a second thought, I stood there watching as I called on the cell. No answer. Well, that wasn’t good. So I crossed the wooden bridge and opened the gate.

Now I had to be on the lookout as well for the Great Dane, whose ears peak at eyeball level on me. Not to mention the German shepherd and the blood hound. Finally I saw vague figures moving over by the stable in the field fenced off from the main yard. No one seemed frantic. So I slipped around the house expecting them to come around the other side any moment, but no one was there and no one showed up in the few seconds I waited.

As I turned to go back to the carport door I always use, the Dane in the house spotted me through the front window and his basso profundo bark rattled the walls. I knew no one had gotten into that house, so my heartbeat slowed a bit. My neighbor saw me herself then, and called from the back door. I had, indeed, gotten there after the excitement was over. Her husband had left before daylight, forgetting to put the two big outside dogs in the horse field before the men hired to do some tree work had arrived. She is 67 and shorter than I by three or four inches, but had tried to do it herself, and was knocked over by the happy, excited dogs and hit her head on the board fence. Another neighbor had gotten to her first, which was just as well. Only a man could have handled all those big, excited animals, and I think the hired men had to help him—that is who I had seen.

I thought, as I made my way back through the woods, as scared as I had been, I had not hesitated at all to go see about my neighbor. Yet how many times have I ignored the cries of distress from my neighbors whose souls are in jeopardy? No, they do not actually cry out. You see that distress in their eyes. You hear their desire for the peace you have in their questions, in their comments about how you handle problems better than they do.

But instead of opening the door to listen, we are too busy with everyday chores to even notice. We have our families to think about. We have our own problems. As one church told Keith a long time ago when he asked for a few dollars to print gospel meeting announcements and pass them out door to door, “They know where we are. They will come if they are interested. No need wasting the Lord’s money like that.”

Are we really listening to their calls for help? Will they be calling someone else because we didn’t pay good enough attention and were slow to react? Are we afraid we will waste “the Lord’s” money? Why do we think it is there? He certainly doesn’t need it.

Pay attention to those around you today. Be sure you are really listening.

Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved. How then shall they call on him in whom they have not believed? And how shall they believe in him whom they have not heard? And how shall they hear without a preacher? And how shall they preach, except they be sent? Even as it is written, how beautiful are the feet of them that bring glad tidings of good things! Rom 10:13-15

Dene Ward

Jesus' Four Comments During His Trial

10/15/2014 0 Comments

Today’s article is by guest writer, Lucas Ward.

Just as it was prophesied in Isaiah, Jesus didn't speak much during His trial(s). In fact, He never once responded to any of His accusers. Not the false witnesses at the Jewish sham trial, not the Chief Priests before Pilate or the Jews before Herod. In all these cases, He stood mute. His silence enraged the High Priest and astounded Pilate. (Mt. 26:62-63, 27:12-14) In fact, the only times Jesus spoke were in answer to direct questions from the prosecutor/judge in reference to His identity. Even then, His answers weren't what one would normally expect from a defendant. Let's examine each of the four times He spoke and then see what conclusions we can draw.

Mat 26:63-64 "But Jesus remained silent. And the high priest said to him, "I adjure you by the living God, tell us if you are the Christ, the Son of God." Jesus said to him, "You have said so. But I tell you, from now on you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power and coming on the clouds of heaven."" Notice that Jesus didn't merely answer in the affirmative, He went beyond that. "Seated at the right hand of Power" can only mean with God and in fact is a claim that He not only was the Christ the son of God, but that he was fully divine and equal to God. Who else could sit with Power? He adds to that statement that they will see Him coming in the clouds of heaven. Throughout the literary prophets, God coming in the clouds signified God coming in judgment to destroy a city or nation. Jesus is saying, not only am I the Christ, I'm God and I'm going to come in judgment on you! Immediately, the Sanhedrin declares that He is worthy of death for blasphemy. (A charge which would have been true had anyone else uttered those words.)

Luk 22:67 ""If you are the Christ, tell us." But he said to them, "If I tell you, you will not believe, and if I ask you, you will not answer. But from now on the Son of Man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God." So they all said, "Are you the Son of God, then?" And he said to them, "You say that I am."" One of the proofs that this session is separate from those recorded in Matthew and Mark is that the whole line of questioning here is different. There are no false witnesses, and Jesus' answer to their question is a bit different. This is the formal "official" trial, and they need to get His "blasphemy" on record. This time when they ask, He tells them there is no point in answering, because they are too stubborn (and stupid?) to believe. He then continues to say that He will be seated with God and finally confirms that He is the Son of God. They again condemn Him to death.

Mat 27:11 Now Jesus stood before the governor, and the governor asked him, "Are you the King of the Jews?" Jesus said, "You have said so." John gives a much fuller account, but this is sufficient. Jesus claims to be a king to the Roman governor.

Joh 19:10-11 "So Pilate said to him, "You will not speak to me? Do you not know that I have authority to release you and authority to crucify you?" Jesus answered him, "You would have no authority over me at all unless it had been given you from above. Therefore he who delivered me over to you has the greater sin."" While there may have been some slight compassion for Pilate on Jesus' part here – after all, Pilate was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, unjust and self-interested as he was -- He seems also to be thumbing His nose at Pilate. He tells Pilate that Pilate's power and authority count for nothing when dealing with Him, that Pilate would have no authority over Him except that God had so arranged it.

Do you see a theme threading through these statements by the Lord? In every case, He said precisely what would enrage His questioners most. Before the Jews, He not only claimed to be the Christ, the son of God, but fully divine Himself and promised that He was coming in judgment upon them. He later repeated most of that while hinting that they were too stubborn to believe the truth. Before Pilate, He claimed to be a king. What was the primary responsibility of the Roman governors? To keep the peace and stamp out insurrections before they could get started. The fastest way to earn a death sentence was to claim to be a king and to gather followers around you. John records that not only did Jesus confirm to Pilate that He was a king, He also said that He had servants who would be willing to fight if He ordered it. While Pilate seems to have considered Jesus a harmless crazy person, this claim would have caused his antennae to twitch. Finally, Jesus tells Pilate that he holds no true power over Him. For a power hungry bureaucrat, this was a serious insult. All of Jesus' answers seem to be designed to upset His judges in the worst way.

Unlike the case for most defendants, victory for Jesus entailed being convicted. His purpose was to be condemned to die. Always the master of what was going on around Him, He said exactly what He needed to in order to ensure that His condemnation came to pass. He wanted to be crucified and made sure that it happened, because that was the only way He could save us.

Lucas Ward

Comfort Food

10/14/2014 0 Comments

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Do a little research and you will find that the term “comfort food” was added to Webster’s Dictionary in 1972. It refers to foods that are typically inexpensive, uncomplicated, and require little or no preparation at all; foods which usually bring pleasant associations with childhood, just as an old song can remind one of a long ago romance, or a smell can instantly bring back situations both good and bad.

Comfort foods vary from culture to culture, but in our country usually include things like macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes, fried chicken, ice cream, peanut butter, and brownies. Folks tend to use comfort foods to provide familiarity and emotional security, or to reward themselves. It’s not surprising that many of these are loaded with carbohydrates which can produce a soporific effect as well. Comfort food followed closely by the comfort of sleep.

Since it became fashionable I have tried to figure out my own list of comfort foods. Here is my problem: my mother was such a good cook and so adventurous, trying many recipes day after day, that I never had one dish often enough to form an attachment to it. One cooking magazine actually runs the column, “My Mother’s Best Meal.” I could not possibly pick one. I would need a whole page to list them. So for me it isn’t comfort food, it’s comfort cooking. When my mind is in turmoil, I cook all day long, trying, I suppose, to recreate the warm, homey, safe atmosphere of my mother’s kitchen.

Comfort food works for the soul too. The best part is, you don’t have to be a good cook. You just open the word of God and feast. You turn on the water of life and drink to your heart’s content. You produce the fruit of the lips in praise to God whenever and wherever you desire. You gather with your brothers and sisters and wallow in a fellowship that has absolutely nothing to do with coffee and donuts.

You can get fatter and fatter with all that spiritual nourishment and still be healthy. In fact, in this context at least, the skinnier you are, the sicker, the sadder, and the weaker you are.

So grab a spoon today, and everyday, and dig in.

Work not for the food which perishes, but for the food which abides unto eternal life, which the Son of man shall give unto you: for him the Father, even God, has sealed, John 6:27.

Dene Ward