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

From my journal:  Monday, June 13, 2005.
This is the big day.  “Terrified” pretty well says it all.  We began it with a prayer and that prayer continued on silently through the day for both of us.  
    Today I will undergo a surgery that has never been done successfully before, using a newly invented device that has never been used before.  If it works, my vision will be saved for awhile longer.  If it doesn’t, I will be blind in that eye.  If we don’t try it, I will be blind in both eyes, probably before the year is out.
  
 We arrived early, expecting a wait, but they took me straight in, after I signed some special consent forms upstairs.  Since the FDA had not approved this, “you will have to sign your life away,” the doctor told me, but what choice did I have?  I signed page after page, and then initialed some handwritten lines added along the side of the form.  One of them said, “I understand that no one knows how this material will interact with human tissue.”  Finally they sent me back downstairs to the surgical floor.  

    When the nurse called me in, Keith and I shared a long hug.  I am sure that no one else there understood why we made such a big deal out of this, but it was possible that I would never see him out of that eye again, and maybe not the other before much longer.

    That was quite a day and quite an experience.  I was, as noted above, terrified.  You don’t sign your life away like that unless you are desperate, unless the only other choice is a bad one.  I did it, and it gave my left eye another year and a half of vision before we had more difficult and painful surgeries to go through, which have spared me yet again.  The right eye, the one that took the plunge first on this day ten years ago, is still hanging in there.  Signing my life away has given me ten more years of vision so far, years no one expected even if the surgery worked, and who knows how much more to come before the medications stop working and the shunt is compromised.

    That level of desperation is the level you must feel in your spiritual life before you will “sign your life away” to God.  

    And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison-house were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened: and every one's bands were loosed. And the jailor, being roused out of sleep and seeing the prison doors open, drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped. But Paul cried with a loud voice, saying, Do yourself no harm: for we are all here. And he called for lights and sprang in, and, trembling for fear, fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?  Acts 16:26-31.

    Do you think that jailor wasn’t terrified?  Do you think he wasn’t desperate?  Imagine how that plea sounded coming from this trembling man who thought his life was over.  “What must I do to be saved?”

    Desperate people do desperate things—like commit their lives to God.  If you never felt that desperation, chances are your commitment was not real.  Chances are you will fall when times get tough, when sacrifices are demanded, when you lose more than you bargained for.  Desperate people do not bargain.  They take the first offer and take it immediately.

    How desperate were you when you were offered salvation?  If you “grew up in the church,” you may never have felt it.  Doing what everyone expects of you is not desperation.  Wanting the approval of others, especially one particular “other” is not desperation.  “Just in case” is not desperation.  You have to recognize a need and know there is no other way of taking care of that need.  You have to know what it means to stand a sinner before a holy God—and it doesn’t mean you feel guilty because you stole a cookie from the cookie jar.  But Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord, Luke 5:8.  That, standing a sinner before a holy God, is the recognition you must come to.

    Signing your entire life away to God is exactly what He expects of you.  So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple, Luke 14:33. Nothing and no one can be more important to you than Him.   I have been crucified with Christ, and it is no longer I who live but Christ who lives in me, Gal 2:20.  Your entire life is no longer yours to do with as you please, but since you know that is your only hope, you do it gladly.
    
    How desperate were you?  How desperate are you now?

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory, Col 3:1-3.

Dene Ward

It happened again the last time I went in.  I got another new resident assigned to do the preliminary work-up.  Since it was a cornea appointment instead of a glaucoma appointment he had not even planned to check the pressures.  I mentioned that my vision was foggy and my eye felt a little different.  Could that be caused by higher pressures?

    “Oh no,” he confidently asserted. “Your pressure would have to be over 50 for that to happen, and you would be throwing up by now.”  

    I looked at him and said, “I’ve been at 70 before without symptoms.”  I am not sure he believed me until he went to the next hall over and pulled my other file, the four inch thick one with more notes than he had probably seen on any six patients put together.  He read for several minutes and discovered that the obvious course of action for most patients is the worst course for me, and quietly took my pressures.  They were indeed high.  If nothing else, that day he learned that not all patients follow the rules.

    We can be a little like that inexperienced young doctor when it comes to following God’s law.  We so badly want it all spelled out in black and white for every situation life hands us--it’s so much easier than having to think and examine our hearts.  That’s why we who have led sheltered lives, perhaps growing up in the church as second, third, or even fourth generation Christians who have never had a drink, never let a bad word slip, and never even considered breaking one of the “big” commandments, can be so judgmental about others who still struggle every day.  A young Christian who came from a rough background recently said to me, “People in the church look down on me when I talk about battling sin.  They say if my faith is genuine, it shouldn’t be that way.”  We carry our rule books, measuring everyone around us, instead of using the sense God gave us, and the love and encouragement he expects of us.

    Rule Book people have another problem as well. Despite their protestations of having a true faith because it does so many works, many never truly believe in the grace of God.  Some of these poor misguided people worry themselves silly wondering whether they are truly saved.  They second-guess every decision they make; they are never confident that they are doing well.  Someone has forgotten to read John’s first epistle to them, which he wrote “so you may know you have eternal life,” 1 John 5:13.

    Finally, those folks work so hard to get every little detail right that they often miss the point of the commandment they are trying to follow.  The Pharisees are the ultimate example.  Even though they began with the simple and righteous desire to follow God’s law exactly, they eventually reached the point that they totally missed the focus of the Law.  It became a study of minutiae instead of concept.  I once read a bit of one their documents discussing the passage, “I meditate on thee in the night watches,” (Psa 63:6).  The point of the passage is to be thinking on spiritual things all through the day and night, but the next four pages were devoted to various rabbis’ arguments about how many night watches there were so they could be sure to meditate exactly that many times! That is what happens when you focus only on the rules and never the heart.  Surely none of us wants to be in a group Jesus called “a brood of vipers.”

    Do not misunderstand me.  I believe God has a set of laws He expects us to follow to the letter, but life is not always simple.  Sometimes a situation arises that is not cut and dried.  We have to actually think about what the right course of action is and make the best possible decision.  Sometimes what I feel is right for me may not be what you feel is right for you.  It is not situation ethics.  It is simply a place where God has not spelled things out, but has left us as His children to pray and meditate, and make a decision from a heart of love and good intentions, and then to trust His grace if we have made a mistake.  To do otherwise, or to simply do nothing, would be the sin, and to judge otherwise, would be the self-righteousness Jesus despised.

And he spoke also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at naught: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.  The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank you, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be merciful to me a sinner. I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one who exalts himself shall be humbled; but he who humbles himself shall be exalted, Luke 18:9-14.

Dene Ward

We recently swapped computers.  This new one is supposed to be so much better for someone like me, someone whose vision is becoming more and more limited.  It’s supposed to be easier to deal with.  Why, it has no wires!  You can pick it up and carry it around with you and no, it’s not a laptop.  It’s one of those new “all-in-ones.”  Part laptop, part tablet, but with a screen the size of a large desktop.  You don’t even need a mouse and keyboard.  Rrrrright.  In my viewpoint it will take them a few more years to make this no-mouse-no-keyboard thing work smoothly enough that you don’t find yourself wanting to throw the whole thing through the window at least once a day.

    But it would have been a much easier transition if it hadn’t been a Lenovo.  Does that ring a few bells with the techie crowd?  Lenovo has recently taken some flak because they placed something called Superfish into their new computers.  If you have read anything about it, you already know where this is going.  There was so much adware embedded in this thing we couldn’t even read a line of text without pop-ups flooding the screen.  If the cursor ran across a magic word, another would instantly appear.  And the thing kept track of every website you visited, producing even more ads.  Sometimes they popped up so quickly that when you were trying to click on something on the legitimate page, you wound up clicking on an ad instead.  We couldn’t even load our desired programs for all the pop-ups.

    This stuff was so deeply embedded that it took at least three trips to the Geek Squad to get it out.  And after every scrub, we had to spend time loading the programs we wanted yet again.  The first four months we were actually able to use the computer about 4 weeks.  

    Satan embeds his adware into our culture the same way.  When you can’t even watch a hamburger commercial without “soft” porn invading your living room, when the teasers for the shows you avoid include language your mama would have washed your mouth out with soap for using, and when we are constantly told that we aren’t hip, cool, smart, happy, or the most interesting people in the world without beer, hard liquor, cigarettes, or dancing the night away in skimpy clothes on a rooftop somewhere exciting where whatever you do stays, then you need to watch out for your souls more than ever before.

    The world will laugh at you if you mention Satan.  He isn’t real, we are told.  Only the ignorant believe in a mythological character like that.  If you are a Christian, you must believe in Satan.  If you don’t accept that part of the Bible, why would you accept any other part?

    Growing up I thought the only New Testament verses that mentioned Satan were the ones around Jesus’ temptation and the good old roaring lion in Peter.  Imagine my surprise when I looked it up.  I counted 19 outside the gospels, less one for the Peter passage we all know, for a total of 18 others.  Then there were the ones who called him something else like “the god of this age,” and “the Devil.”  And many of them talk about his “adware.”  Check a few of these out.

    2 Cor 2:11 mentions the “devices” of the devil.  Eph 6:11 speaks of his “schemes.”  2 Cor 4:4 tells us he “blinds the minds.”  2 Cor 11:14 tells us he “disguises” himself.  All I have to do is look around and see those devices and schemes every day, not just on television but in the speech and behavior of people who have already been taken in.  Have you ever seen the original “Invasion of the Body Snatchers?”  Some days I feel exactly like Kevin McCarthy, looking over my shoulder to see where the pods are, and wondering which of my neighbors have been replaced.
    
   One of Satan’s devices are his ministers.  The New Testament warns again and again of false teachers, false messiahs, false prophets, and false apostles.   They fashion themselves as “ministers of righteousness” (2 Cor 11:15).  Not only do they appear to be doing good, they even look good.  False teachers on the whole are good-looking and charismatic.  A lot of what they say sounds good and is, in fact, good.  But 90% of rat poison is good too.  It only takes the 10% to kill the rats.  When you keep finding the good in a man you know is teaching error, maybe Satan’s adware has taken hold of your heart already.

    Our culture has become embedded with evil masquerading as good.  We had to have our computer “scrubbed to the bones” to get rid of the adware.  Maybe it’s time we all used a spiritual scrub brush on ourselves before we are taken in too.

But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep.  2 Pet 2:1-3.

Dene Ward

Chloe has found her niche.  We have never questioned her smarts—her breed is known for them, but we never really figured out what it was she was good at till now.  
    Magdi, her fellow Australian cattle dog, plays “shortstop” with Keith as he hits tennis balls her way; starting from a crouch and taking off just in time to stop the ball.  She plays “outfielder,” catching fly balls with her mouth that I would have a problem with if I had a giant mitt.  She chases a giant exercise ball around the field, pushing it up on her shoulders and balancing it a few seconds as she runs along.  If you tell her to bring you a ball, she will.  She is ready for play any time you choose, and even when you don’t.    
    But Chloe?  She has no interest in balls.  She had much rather sit around chewing on a stick or rolling in the grass.  All this exercise stuff is for the birds—or perhaps for less smart dogs?
    Then she discovered grasshoppers—the big brown flying kind, as big as small birds.  When she happens upon one, she chases it, even as it flies, and leaps into the air to catch it.  Then she plops down on the ground immediately and begins crunching.  No, she cannot chase balls, and certainly cannot catch high flies, but she can catch big brown grasshoppers just fine.  We have noticed that there are fewer of them this year than any other recently.
    We all have a gift, a natural ability that God has placed somewhere in all those genes.  The trick is to find it.  Too many are dissatisfied with the gift they have been given and try to exercise one they do not have.  Why?  Because, as much as we might talk about humility, we want the flashy gifts that put us in the forefront.  A gift for visiting shut-ins and knowing just the right words to say does not garner much attention.  Neither does a gift for cleaning—either the meetinghouse or the homes of the sick.  But both of those things may make far more difference in someone’s life than whether or not a man can lead the singing well or teach a good class.  
    Yet song leading and teaching seem to be the most desirable gifts in our estimation.  We have forgotten their purpose.   
    Leading a congregation in a song service is not about choosing songs one likes or that he feels show off his ability.  It is about enabling a group to more effectively praise God and edify themselves.  A good song leader makes thoughtful selections for the occasion, pitches them so that every part can easily sing, and actually leads so that the group does not bog down in either tempo or pitch.  
    Teaching a class is not about standing in front of a group and allowing everyone to have their say, like some sort of verbal traffic cop.  A teacher should have prepared long enough and hard enough that anything anyone pops out with off the cuff is far less valuable than what he has prepared.  It is more edifying to listen to an enlightening and challenging lecture than to hear yet again what everyone says every time a certain subject comes up, things we could write down before they were even said because we have heard them so many times.
    So what is your talent, and more to the point, are you willing to use the one you have, instead of the one you wish you had?  If I am griping because everyone gets a turn to teach but me, maybe it’s because I am the only one who realizes that I am not any good at it.  What I am good at may be far more helpful to my spiritual family.
    Chloe has found her niche, and she is happy to fill it.  She doesn’t look at Magdi with resentment because we only bat tennis balls for her.  She doesn’t run around picking up balls lying on the ground, thinking that is the same thing as catching a thirty foot high fly, nor does she stand there barking at the giant exercise ball as if that makes her its master.
    God gives us gifts—all of us.  It would be singularly ungrateful not to discover them and use them.  He gives them so we can help one another get to Heaven.  What if you decide you don’t like yours and someone misses the trip because of you?
    
For even as we have many members in one body, and all the members have not the same office: so we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and severally members one of another. And having gifts differing according to the grace that was given to us, whether prophecy, let us prophesy according to the proportion of our faith; or serving, let us give ourselves to service; or he that teaches, to his teaching; or he that exhorts, to his exhorting: he that gives, with liberality; he that rules, with diligence; he that shows mercy, with cheerfulness, Rom 12:4-8.

Dene Ward