Today's post by guest writer Lucas Ward
           
For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the vain glory of life, is not of the father, but is of the world, 1 John 2:16.
             
Most of your modern translations have "pride of life" as the third aspect of temptation, and that is a good translation, but this is one of those cases where the older English usage might be better. Pride is one thing. We all know that we should humble ourselves before God.  So we see "pride of life," nod, and move on. But "vain glory of life" gives us the chance to understand this passage in a deeper way. 
             
The context of this passage is loving the world rather than God and the
futility of such action. Verse 17 compares the temporal nature of the world and its desires with the follower of God who abides forever. So that leads us to compare the vain glory of life with the eternal glory promised by God.
           
People can win glory and honor in this world. People work very hard for status, prestige, and power. They are held up as models for us all. We marvel at what they have accomplished, whether it be in business, politics or sports. But does that glory last? 
             
If the election for President George H.W. Bush’s second term had been held in March of 1991, he would have won in a landslide. He was riding high after having presided over the fall of communism in Eastern Europe and leading us to victory in the Gulf War. Less than two years later he lost the vote. No one cared about his accomplishments only 20 months previously. Instead it was
about "the economy, stupid." 
             
Every year, the professional sports leagues crown champions who are
lauded to high heaven for their skill, teamwork, and dedication to their craft.
Six months later, that is all past and they start the new season 0-0 just like
the cellar dwellers of the previous year. Championship winning coaches are
sometimes fired just a few years after winning it all, because they couldn't
keep hold of that "vain glory". Even the players are not allowed to rest on
their laurels but the sportswriters wonder if they can maintain that level of
greatness for any length of time.
           
"Vain" means empty or worthless. That pretty well describes all the glory we can achieve here in this life: empty. It doesn't last. Compare that with the
glory we can receive from God. Eternal glory, that never fades, greater than
anything we can imagine. Rom. 8:18 speaks of the eternal glory worth far more than the persecutions we may suffer. In other places we read of crowns, shining garments, and thrones right next to God's own throne. Search for glory" in the New Testament. What we are promised if we love God and follow Him is so much greater than the best anyone could achieve here. 
             
As we struggle for success in our chosen fields and careers, let us remember where the real glory lies and love God rather than the vain glory of this world. It is far better to be an unnoticed nobody in this life and reign with the Father in the next, than to achieve glory that would make Alexander's pale in comparison, yet have our Lord say "I know ye not." 
  
Thus says Jehovah, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches; but let him who glories glory in this, that he has understanding, and knows me, that I am Jehovah who exercises lovingkindness, justice, and righteousness, in the earth: for in these things I delight, says Jehovah, Jeremiah 9:23-24.

 Lucas Ward

Those piano competitions I spoke of last week are fun and uplifting. It is wonderful to hear the future stars of the concert stage make two full days of
beautiful music. Which does not mean it was an easy weekend. 90% of the
performances we heard were mechanically and technically perfect. Memory lapses were rare and finger slips even rarer. So how do you choose a
winner?
 
Actually, at the end of each session when our panel of three compared notes, we had all picked out the same three or four that distinguished themselves above the others: pianists who played with feeling; who made the melody sound like someone singing; who understood how to shape phrases, not just separate them; who had the musical ear and technical ability to voice their chords; students who played the non-melody hand so far in the background it was as if it were in another room; who knew the difference between a Mozart
forte and a Beethoven forte; who understood that rubato meant a roportionate
time-stretching like the lettering on an inflated balloon, not just a rush followed by a drag. In short, the winners were those who played not only with perfect mechanics, but with artistry as well—they put their hearts into it.
 
God’s people seem to have had a problem with that for a long time. The prophets were constantly reminding them that while God expected absolute obedience, form worship was not acceptable. If perfect mechanics were all that mattered, he could have created a world full of robots to fill the bill. I hate, I despise your feasts and I will take no delight in your solemn assemblies, God told Israel. Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and your meal offerings, I will not accept them; neither will I regard the peace offerings of your fat beasts, Amos 5:21,22. Why? Because it was a mechanical following of ritual. All during their “worship” they were saying, When will the new moon be gone that we may sell grain, and the Sabbath that we may set forth wheat, making the ephah small and the shekel great, dealing falsely with the balances of deceit; that we may buy the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of shoes, and sell the refuse of the wheat, 8:5,6. Their religion did not affect their hearts and certainly not their everyday lives.
 
Jesus dealt with their descendants, not only by blood, but in attitude. Were the Pharisees right to require exact obedience to the Law? Jesus said they were: The scribes and Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat. All things whatsoever they bid you, these things do, Matt 23:2,3. He even praised what we might consider petty exactitude: you tithe mint, anise, and cumin…these things you ought to have done…Matt 23:23. But like their ancestors, their heart was not in it. Hear Jesus’ whole indictment: Woe to you scribes, Pharisees, hypocrites, for you tithe mint, anise, and cumin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, mercy, and faith; but these things you ought to have done, and not left the other undone.
 
Correct mechanics are important. A lot of folks in the Bible learned that the hard way. But our hearts are more important, according to Jesus. It is easier to just go down a list and do what we are told than it is to monitor our hearts and keep them in line—but God has never had much truck with laziness either. I didn’t give out any prizes for mechanical playing those weekends at the university. What makes us think God will give them out for mechanical worship?
 
“With what shall I come before the Lord and bow down before the exalted God? Shall I come with burnt offerings, with calves a year old? Will the Lord be pleased with thousands of rams, and ten thousand rivers of oil? Shall I offer my firstborn for my transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin of my soul? He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justly, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” Micah 6:6-8 
 
Dene Ward

I’ve heard it all my life: you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Imagine my surprise to find out you can catch quite a few flies with vinegar after all.  
  
I read it in a cooking magazine. Most gnats are fruitflies. If you are having trouble with gnats in your kitchen, fill a small dish with vinegar, squeeze a drop of two of dishwashing liquid on it and set it out where you have the most gnats. What interests a fruitfly is the vinegars formed in the rotten fruit, and that bowl of vinegar spells “rotten fruit” to their little sensory receptors. Because of the surface tension on water, a fruitfly can land and not sink, but that drop of dishwashing liquid breaks the tension. They land and sink, drowning immediately. 
 
I put one of these dishes out one day and an hour later found 18 little black specks lying on the bottom, never to buzz in my house again. Now, every
summer, I have two or three custard cups of apple cider vinegar lying around my house, and far fewer gnats than ever before. 
 
One of the cups sits on the window sill next to the chair that overlooks the bird feeder. That bird feeder attracts more than its fair share of gnats in the summer too, and I have a suspicion that most of the gnats in the house sneak through the cracks around that window. The screen is gone so I can see the birds better and the double window is up a foot so I have a place for my coffee cup on the sill. That lack of triple protection means they can get in easier than anywhere else in the house except an open door. 
 
So the other afternoon I sat down to rest a bit after canning a bushel of tomatoes. Keith was emptying the residual garbage pails of  skins and seeds, and dumping the heavy pots of boiling water outside so the house wouldn’t heat up yet more from the steam. I had just replaced the vinegar in the dish a few minutes before. 
  
A gnat suddenly buzzed my face and I shooed it away. He came back, but
this time he headed straight for the window. “Aha!” I thought. If I just sat still I could see how it actually happened. It was a real life lesson. 
  
He had gotten “wind” of the vinegar somehow and flew over to check it out at a prudent distance of eight or ten inches, which is several thousand times the body length of a gnat I imagine, and was certainly safe. He flew away, but within a few seconds he was back. This time he flew a little closer, maybe  half the distance he had before. 
 
That happened several times with the gnat coming in closer and closer on each pass. Finally, he landed on the window sill a couple of inches from the custard cup. I could just imagine him sitting there tensed up and waiting for something to happen, then finally relaxing as he discovered that whatever danger he had imagined wasn’t there.  
  
He flew again, but not away. This time he hovered over the cup, doing figure eights two or three inches above the surface of the vinegar. Then he landed on the lip of the custard cup. At that point I imagine the fumes from the fresh vinegar were nearly intoxicating. All that rotten fruit right down there for the taking, and besides, he had never had trouble before landing on a piece of bruised, decaying fruit, and this one was obviously an apple, one of the best. 
 
So he flew yet again, circling closer and closer to the  surface. “Now,” he must have thought as he landed on what he was sure was a solid chunk of overripe Macintosh, or Jonathan, or Red Rome, and promptly sank into the vinegar. He didn’t even wiggle—it was over that fast, his drowning in what he thought was safe, in a place where nothing bad had ever happened to him before.  
  
It works this way for humans too, you know. What are you hovering over today? 
 
Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, When it sparkles in the cup, When it goes down smoothly: At the last it bites like a serpent, And stings like an adder. Proverbs 23:31-32. 

Thorns and snares are in the way of the perverse: He who keeps his soul shall be far from them, Proverbs 22:5. 

Dene Ward

Before one of the surgeries, Keith built a bird feeder outside the window next to my favorite chair--a metal trough about five feet long on a wooden frame. I must admit I have enjoyed this thing a whole lot more than I expected to. We keep it filled with birdseed and Keith hung a cylinder of suet over it as well. 

First the cardinal couple came to dine. They spend their time in the trough with the seed. The suet is not their cup of tea, so to speak, but several others seem to prefer it  A hummingbird came and hovered next to it, trying his best to figure out how to get the nectar out of it, but finally gave up and flew back to the hummingbird feeder on the other side of the house.

Then the catbird came calling. He stood under it, with the bottom of it just out of reach. First, he tried the hummingbird’s trick, but a catbird cannot hover, he quickly found out as he fell with a splat into the trough. Then he started jumping up and down, trying to peck when he reached the height of his jump, once again falling into the trough, this time nearly doing a backward somersault. Poor bird, I hope he didn’t hear me laughing at him, but you never think about a bird being so awkward as to fall on his backside. Maybe he did hear me, because he left and did not come back for a long time.

The next morning I looked out and a wren had landed on top of the hanging suet and calmly leaned down, pecking away. Every so often he looked around as if to say, “See? This isn’t so hard.” After a few days he had pecked away most of his sure-footing. The top of the suet was no longer flat, so gradually one foot would slide down and hang onto the side. Every morning he pecked away until finally there was no room at all on the top and both feet clung to the side of the suet. Then came the day he got a little too self-confident. I looked out and he was hanging upside down from the bottom of the suet. His little feet curled in tightly and deeply and he seemed to have a good hold, but he had not reckoned with his desire to eat. He pecked so hard that he pushed himself off the suet and he, too, landed on his back in the trough. Was he embarrassed? No way. He just hopped back up on the side and kept pecking. There are things more important than saving face.

Along came a little gray titmouse with his gray crest, big ringed eye, and the slimmest breast I had ever seen on a bird. He too, figured out how to land on the suet, hang on, and peck. Then one morning the suet cylinder fell and lay across the trough. Here comes the catbird ready for an easy meal. The titmouse arrived shortly after and must have known something about catbirds. He sat in the azalea and squealed ferociously until he finally scared the catbird away. As soon as the titmouse had eaten and left, the big coward came back, but not long afterward the cardinal couple flew at him and off he went again.

All of this makes me think about our efforts to feast on the bread of life. Do we mind looking a little foolish sometimes in our eagerness to learn and grow spiritually? Do we give up after one or two tries if things are more difficult than we expected? Are we too frightened to admit we live on the Word of God—afraid we won’t be accepted by our peers, afraid we will be ridiculed, afraid no one will like us any more, afraid it may cost us socially, economically, or maybe some day, even physically?

The little birds at my feeder teach me profound lessons every day. Sometimes I need a prod to be more like the feisty little titmouse or the ingenious little wren who couldn’t care less how his hunger for suet makes him look. Sometimes I need to be reminded that there are more important things than what everyone thinks about me, and that fear of others can make you look the most ridiculous of all. Indeed, if a tiny little titmouse can scare away a big old catbird all by himself, why can’t I make Satan’s minions run away, especially with all the Help I have at hand?

As newborn babes long for the spiritual milk which is without guile, that you may grow thereby unto salvation, 1 Pet 2:2.

Dene Ward

Nothing aggravates me much more than listening to someone claim to be religious, claim to love the Lord, claim to have the utmost faith in Him, and then live like the Devil. It is false advertising at its worst. Then our women’s Bible study reached James 2 in our study of faith and suddenly, it got a little personal.

Although I am grateful for the convenience of chapters and verses that the scholars have added, it is obvious that they sometimes had their minds on other things when they threw them in. And throw them it appears they did, like sprinkling salt on a plateful of food. So what if a verse is divided in the middle of a sentence or a chapter in the middle of a thought? The “what” is this—you forget to check the entire context because your eyes tell your mind that it started and ended right there, not on the page before or after.

So we backed up into chapter 1 and found this: “If anyone thinks he is religious…” in verse 26. Another two verses back we found, “If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer…” verse 23, which directly connects to the whole point of chapter 2: “Faith without works is dead.” Chapter 2 itself begins with, “Show no partiality as you hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ.” So from all that we easily concluded that being a doer of the Word (1:23), being religious (1:26), and holding to the faith (2:1) were all synonymous, and that it was easy to tell if a person fit the bill.

Follow along with me. A person who merely thinks he is religious but in reality is not: does not bridle his tongue, 1:26; does not serve others, 1:27; lives a life of impurity, 1:27; does not love his neighbor as himself, 2:8; shows partiality, 2:9; does not show mercy, 2:13.

I am happy to point out that those celebrities who claim faith in the Lord hop from bed to bed, and carouse at every opportunity. Their language is foul and a criminal record of drugs, DUIs, and assaults follow them around like a noxious vapor trail.

But how about the rest of us, the ones who don’t have the paparazzi following us? Do we serve those in need or are we too busy? Do we love our neighbors, or only the friends we enjoy being with? Do we talk about “them,” whoever they might be in any conversation, as if they were somehow “other” than us because of their race, their nationality, their lifestyle, their politics, even the clothes they wear? If I do any of that am I any more “religious” than the Jesus-calling, promiscuous drunk I abhor?

This discussion also led us to another defining characteristic of a true faith. Look at those qualities again—someone who says the right thing at the right time, whose words are extremely important; someone who serves others; someone who is pure and holy; someone who loves as himself; someone who treats everyone the same, even the lowest of the low; someone who shows mercy—who does that best describe? Isn’t it the one we are supposed to have faith in, Jesus, and ultimately God?

Adoration equals imitation. If I am not trying to become like the one I have faith in, my faith is a sham. How can I claim to believe in a God who sends rain on the just and the unjust while holding back on my service to one I have deemed unworthy of it? How can I have faith in a merciful God and not forgive even the worst sin against me? How can I have faith in a God who is holy and pure and a Lord who remained sinless as the perfect example to me and make excuses for my own sins?

Do you think you are religious? Do your neighbors? Sometimes what we really are is a whole lot clearer to everyone else.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. James 1:22-25

Dene Ward

Florida has some strange weather. As a teenager in Tampa I remember
looking out the front door to sunshine and warm breezes, then out the backdoor to rain. Honestly--raining in the backyard and sunshine in the front. At our place now we can look up to the gate and see rain while the garden is still wilting in the sun. 
 
I thought about that recently when Lucas told us how his little strip of land two blocks from the beach seemed to be a dividing point in weather systems as they passed through the panhandle from the west. He could walk outside and look south to sunny blue skies, puffy cotton ball clouds and palm trees waving in the sea breeze. Yet if he looked north, he saw billowing black clouds lit up by lightning that occasionally streaked its way to the ground. Take your choice of weather: look north or look south; go out the front door or go out the back.
 
Which reminds me about the essential truth of happiness: it’s a choice you make regardless of the conditions you find yourself in. “I have learned in
whatever state I am in to be content,” Paul says in Phil 4:11. The disciples
rejoiced that they were “counted worthy to suffer,” Acts 5:41. If that doesn’t prove that happiness is a choice, what can?
 
That doesn’t mean I can face every day with a smile—I haven’t gotten there yet. But it does mean that when I am not in a good mood, I understand it’s
up to me to change myself not my circumstances. “I can do all things through him who strengthens me;” that old timeworn citation immediately follows Paul’s
assertion that contentment is a learned behavior. He understands that although
happiness may be a choice, it isn’t always an easy one—it takes some help to
manage when the outward man must face pain or illness or persecution or other suffering, whether physical or mental. If it takes the help of Christ, it must
be a difficult task.
 
But it can be done, and while the doing may be difficult, the how isn’t. All you have to do is face in the right direction, “looking unto Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith,” the Hebrew writer tells us in 12:2, and then goes on to tell us how our example did it: looking unto Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising shame, and hath sat down at the right hand of the throne of God, Hebrews 12:2. He looked ahead to the joy, not around him to the shame and pain, the hostility and the weariness. 
  
What do they teach us in our Lamaze classes, ladies? You focus on something besides the pain. How many of you took a picture with you that they tacked on the wall? Then you chose to look at it. Even then you needed a little help — that’s what those men of yours were there for. They helped you keep your focus and count your breaths. You chose to listen to them and follow their instructions (when you weren’t grabbing them by the collar and telling them through gritted teeth not to ever touch you again!), but yes, it worked and you got through it, and you even wanted it again before much longer because you remembered the joy when that precious little bundle was placed in your arms, John 16:21.
 
Do you want a happy marriage? Do you want a good relationship with your family and your brothers and sisters in Christ? Do you want to greet life every day with a smile instead of a sneer, laughter instead of tears? The weather you can’t change, but you can change which door you leave by and which direction you look.

We look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal,. 2 Corinthians 4:18.
 
Dene Ward

“Do it myself!” What parent has not heard these words from his toddler with mixed feelings? Yes, he is learning to do things for himself, all by himself, without my help. Good for him! Yes, he is learning to do without me. Some day he won’t need my help at all. Some day he will experience his own Independence Day, and we will face it with pride in his accomplishment and tears for our own loss at the same time.

And don’t we prize that independent feeling ourselves? I have a good friend who is 93. She and I have often bemoaned the fact that people no longer seem to understand the word “need.” What they think they “need” is usually just
something they “want.” It worries us that we are becoming more and more
dependent on wealth and the technology it buys. We have said to one another, if someday there is a great catastrophe, most of the country won’t know how to
survive at all. She has a colorful way of putting it: “They won’t even know how
to go to the bathroom!”
 
We have lived in the country for a long time, and I have learned a lot about doing things myself. I don’t know when was the last time I bought a jar of
jelly at the store. Or pickles. Or canned tomatoes. Or salsa. Or any sort of
frozen vegetable at all. I do it myself.
 
For awhile we had chickens. Until we finally figured out that we were barely breaking even between the cost of feed and the “free” eggs, we gathered
jumbos every day, half a dozen or more. Keith milked a cow, and I often had a
sour cream pound cake sitting on the countertop, made with our eggs, our
homemade butter, and our homemade sour cream. I mashed potatoes we grew with our fresh cream and homemade butter. The ice cream we churned was so rich we often saw flecks of butter in it.  I think maybe we gave up the cow the day we actually started feeling our arteries clog as we looked across the table at one another.
 
A lot of people can and freeze vegetables, jams, and pickles, but it always gave me a little extra pride when I made things that most people never even thought about making, like ketchup from the tag ends of the tomato crop, and chili powder from the cayenne peppers I grew and dried. Lots of folks made applesauce, but not many can their own apple pie filling to use later in the year. Another friend I have makes her own laundry starch. If anything dire does happen in the next few years, my two special friends and I promise to share. I am sure the 93 year old will be happy to tell you how to dig an
outhouse.

 But that sort of pride and independence can get in the way of our salvation, can’t it? There really is nothing we can do to save ourselves. And we must learn to depend upon God—he demands it. He is to be the one we trust, the
one we rely on, the one we go to for every need we have, even if our definition
of need is really “want.” 
 
As long as I think I can manufacture my own salvation and experience a
spiritual Independence Day, I will never find myself in God’s good graces, or in
His grace. This is one case where self-reliance is disastrous. This is one case
where we celebrate Dependence Day instead. Have you celebrated yours yet?
 
By grace have you been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God,  Eph 2:8
 
Dene Ward

Keith loves tomatoes, which accounts for the fact that we have 95 tomato plants in our garden. In the summer, his supper is not complete without a heaping platter of sliced tomatoes, assorted colors and varieties—Better Boy, Celebrity, Big Beef, Golden Girl, Golden Jubilee, Cherokee Purple—all full sized, some even the one-slicers: large enough for one slice to cover a piece of bread.

So when the first tomato ripened this year and he let me have the whole thing to myself everyone was amazed. “What a generous husband!” some exclaimed. Then I told them the rest of the story. It was a Sungold Cherry tomato, more like a grape tomato, less than an inch in diameter.

“What a generous husband!” they again exclaimed, with a slightly different inflection on the “generous.”

It was a joke and everyone knew it, including Keith. How sad that so many do not see the joke when it’s the tomato they’ve been offered.

Do you want wealth and fame? Here, have the whole tomato.

Do you want career, status and power? Here, enjoy this, it’s all yours.

Do you want pleasure of every kind, fun, and excitement? Here, it’s ripe and ready and yours for the taking. Eat every bite.

Isn’t life wonderful? Isn’t the world an amazing place? Isn’t the ruler of this world the most generous being there is? Don’t bet on it.

Look at the size of that tomato again. Now look at what you lose when you accept it: family, love, redemption, hope, your soul. My, how generous that offer was—one measly little bite that is gone in an instant for the price of everything eternal.

That tomato may taste pretty good. It may be the best one that ever grew in any garden anywhere. But I’d rather take my Father’s offer—He has a whole garden to give me.

And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the midst of the street thereof. And on this side of the river and on that was the tree of life, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. And there shall be no curse any more: and the throne of God and of the Lamb shall be therein: and his servants shall serve him; and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads. And there shall be night no more; and they need no light of lamp, neither light of sun; for the Lord God shall give them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever, Revelation 22:1-5.

For what shall a man be profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and forfeit his life? or what shall a man give in exchange for his life? Matthew 16:26.

Dene Ward

As a former adjudicator for a couple of different teaching organizations, I spent several spring weekends judging competitions at the University of North Florida. Being a piano and voice teacher, my students were often in similar competitions. A young man once questioned me on the wisdom of this. Wasn’t I creating undue stress on my students? Didn’t I think that this emphasis on competition would take the joy of music away from them? 

I could go on and on about that one, but suffice it to say, I would never have done anything that I believed harmed those children. I never forced any of them to participate in any competition, but I can make this observation from over 30 years of teaching: the ones who never competed never advanced as
quickly, and always quit after two or three years—no exception. The others made rapid progress and the majority of them stuck with it long enough to give a senior recital. 

That spurred thoughts of the negative and positive aspects of “judging” in the scriptures. Usually all we hear is Judge not that you be not judged, and usually from someone who is doing something they ought not to be doing. There are many more occasions where we are either specifically told to judge or to do something that requires making a judgment.       
 
Mark those that are causing the divisions and occasions of stumbling, contrary to the doctrine which you learned, and turn away from them,  Rom 16:17.

If a man be overtaken in a fault, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness…Gal 6:1.

Shun profane babblings for they will proceed further in ungodliness, 2 Tim 2:16.

Believe not every spirit, but prove the spirits whether they are of God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world, 1 John 4:1.

 Making judgments is essential to protecting those we love and saving those in error. I could go on and on, filling up page after page with scriptures like these. Sometimes judging is required. The trick is to do it properly. Jesus said in John 7:24, Judge not according to appearance, but judge righteous judgment. If I read the context of most of those passages above, I will see the guidelines the Holy Spirit has carefully laid out in how to judge righteously. 

Being quick to judge others’ lives when I do not know the facts, when I am judging only by “how it looks,” and when I have never been in their shoes, flies in the face of the love I am commanded to have toward others. In that case, Judge not that you be not judged fits me to a tee. But using the excuse “I don’t want to judge their situation” when someone is lost in sin, is a cop-out that will not please the Father who watches over us.

Deliver them that are carried away unto death; and those that are ready to be slain, see that you holdback. If you say, Behold, we did not know this, does not he who weighs the hearts consider it? And he who keeps the soul, does he not know it? And shall he not render to every man according to his work? Prov
24:11,12

 Ordinarily, I stay away from The Message. It is a paraphrase that takes far too many liberties with the scriptures; but I must say, I like its interpretation of the above, with my own added phrase—if he can paraphrase, so can I! “Rescue the perishing; don't hesitate to step in and help. If you say, ‘Hey, that's none of my business,’ [I don’t want to judge], will that get you off the hook? Someone is watching you closely, you know-- Someone not impressed with weak excuses.”

So there it is—I must judge, but carefully, wisely, righteously. 

Dene Ward

(Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward.)

Too often, we limit our thinking concerning the meaning of this bread to the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross. When we do so we cannot comprehend fully the breadth and depth of what did occur on the cross. Jesus’ sacrifice of his body began so much earlier: “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God…A body thou didst prepare for me…to do thy will, O God … and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us and we beheld his glory,” (Jn 1:1, 14; Heb 10:5-7).

Jesus spoke, "This is my body,” and soon he gathered his disciples, sang a hymn and left for the garden of Gethsemane. He left the eight, and even went a stone’s throw beyond Peter, James and John, and began to pray in an agony so great that drops of sweat poured from him as drops of blood. We can imagine his prayers:

Father, I came to do your will. I left heaven and emptied myself to take the body you prepared for me, to become a servant. I thirsted and hurt and sweated and was sore and tired so that I could be human and intercede for them. Now, it is the time to die; the cross, horrendous pain for a long time, beatings, mockery and humiliation. “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me…but, thy will be done,” (Mt 26:34).

Then Jesus returned and found the disciples asleep. He wakened them and rebuked, where were you when I needed you (Mt 26:40)?  He again went forward to pray.

Father, I left the holiness of your presence to take a body and live in a world saturated with sin. My life was surrounded by the ugliest, vile wickedness against the joy of the life you decreed; My senses were assaulted by the constant rebellion against your righteous ways; My ears were assaulted with curses and filth from lips you created for praise. Yet, I kept myself unspotted; I maintained the same holiness I enjoyed with you from before the beginning. Now, I must bear their sins in my body (1Pet 2:24). The purity I have never compromised is to be stained with the ugliness we never even imagined. For their sake, I must become sin (2 Cor 5:21). “Father, let this cup pass from me, nevertheless, not my will but thine be done.”

And he came again and found the disciples sleeping. He reproved them and returned to pray a third time.

            Father, we have always been together. Before time was, before the world was, we shared plans and thoughts and ideas and feelings, and have never been apart. But now, on the cross, my holy body will become sin; all the evil from all humanity laid on me. You cannot be where sin is; You cannot accept sin in your presence. You must withdraw from me, and the fellowship that is without beginning will be broken. Alone. I will be separated. Hell. “Father, let this cup pass from me. But, thy will be done in my body.

And, again, the disciples slept.

Then Judas betrayed him.

In his body, Jesus sacrificed his position and became flesh; Jesus sacrificed his holiness and became sin; Jesus sacrificed his fellowship: “My God, My God, Why hast thou forsaken me?”

“This is the bread which comes down out of heaven, that a man may eat thereof, and not die. I am the living bread which came down out of heaven: if any man eat of this bread, he shall live forever: yea, and the bread which I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world. The Jews therefore strove one with another, saying, How can this man give us his flesh to eat? Jesus therefore said to them, Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, ye have not life in yourselves. He that eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father; so he that eats me, he also shall live because of me. This is the bread which came down out of heaven; he that eats this bread shall live forever,” (Jn 6:50-58).

Many have read this passage over the Lord’s Supper with little comprehension of the meaning. Jesus is not referring to his coming sacrifice in any way. Instead, his words demand an absolute commitment to his incarnation—that he is God in the flesh. Who he is must be the food that sustains the inner life of Jesus’ disciple. He cannot include any other philosophy; worldly ambitions cannot be on the menu; family obligations may not be considered. Jesus’ incarnate life must be one hundred percent of his sustenance. Taking the emblems at the Lord’s Supper is a token reminding every disciple of that commitment and a renewal of it. “This is my body.”

We are the body, he is the head. As we take the bread we must question our commitment to the purity of his body, the church. Do we pray in agony to maintain our personal purity? Will we give our position, our lives, even all that we were, to do God’s will? People say, “That is just the way I am,” or, “I’m doing the best I can,” while their lives demonstrate so little of the sacrificial attitude, “A body thou hast prepared for me, to do thy will O God.” No wonder some are sick and some have died (1 Cor 11:30).

When we take this bread, this memorial to his body, we are also partaking in a re-commitment to be his body. We made that commitment at baptism—crucified with Christ, put to death, raised to a new life, “To do thy will, O God.”

Keith Ward