I am an increasingly rare breed—a native Floridian.  I never saw snow until we lived two years in Illinois.  Talk about culture shock—I won’t soon forget the feeling in the pit of my stomach when one of my worried sisters in the Lord asked if I had a heavy winter coat.  I showed it to her; it looked new because I seldom wore it down here.  She called it a nice “spring coat,” and advised me to go shopping.  I soon learned to appreciate the luxuries I had grown up with in winter:  warmth—up there we often had lows below zero; sun—I had never before lived in a place that went as long as two weeks with sunless skies and dusk arriving about 4:30; and green!  Sure the grass may frost off for a couple of weeks down here, and some of the trees lose their leaves, but we still have plenty of green for a lot of the winter.  I even learned to appreciate humidity after my entire body chapped through my clothes and I started blowing blood out of my nose. 

Of course, I realize that a lot of this depends on what you are used to.  We met a man from Massachusetts last February in one of our state parks who told us, “It was almost uncomfortable today.”  The thermometer might have topped out at 72.  I am sure if I had stayed in Illinois longer than two years, I would have become acclimated to the weather and the things I needed to do to make myself comfortable in a different climate.

Becoming accustomed to things can affect our spiritual lives as well.  Paul reminds us in 1 Cor 5:9,10 that we cannot remove ourselves from the world.  In fact we are encouraged to spread the Truth of the Gospel among those very souls, but we are supposed to keep the influence going one way only.  When I am no longer shocked at the world’s behavior, in fact, when I consider it “normal,” the influence has taken a two-way street.

One of the most scathing indictments in the Bible is Jeremiah’s accusation in 8:12, They were not at all ashamed, neither could they blush.  Nothing the prophets said could touch these people.  They continued in their own stubborn way and never thought anything about it.  Many years before, had they seen the direction they were headed, they probably would have been horrified; but they changed so gradually—got used to it--that they did not even realize their sin.  Despite that sin, they still stood at God’s Temple and worshipped, sure of their good standing with Jehovah, Jer 7:10. 

How about us?  Have we gotten so used to sin around us that it no longer disturbs us?  For the danger, you see, is that because we no longer consider it so reprehensible, we might be tempted to fall into it ourselves.  We would never do anything bad, and this is no longer all that bad, so why not?

Historians say that the downfall of any society begins with that society’s acceptance of rampant immorality as “the norm.”  The prophets preached the same about Israel and Judah, and Paul warns the church, Christ’s bride, A little leaven leavens the whole lump, 1 Cor 5:6.

Do not forget how to blush! 

Forasmuch then as Christ suffered in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same mind, for he that has suffered in the flesh has ceased from sin, that you no longer should live the rest of your time in the flesh to the lusts of men, but to the will of God.  For the time past may suffice to have wrought your desire of the Gentiles, and to have walked in lasciviousness, lusts, winebibbings, revelings, carousings, and abominable idolatries, wherein they think it strange that you do not run with them into the same excess of riot, speaking evil of you, who shall give an account to him that is ready to judge the living and the dead.  1 Peter 4:1-5

Dene Ward

Last year I read a book that proved by extensive research of ancient writings that mainstream Protestant belief is completely different from the beliefs of the apostles and the first century church.  The author wrote page after page quoting men who were companions or students of the apostles, men who knew firsthand what Peter, Paul, John, and the others believed.  You would think that by the end of the book the man would have taught himself straight into restoring the New Testament church.  But no, he stopped short.  In fact, he said it was impossible to restore the real thing, and the doctrines he had chosen to attack were only a few.  He never questioned his own desire to keep a few of those “heretical” -isms for himself. 

I thought about that this morning and went on a rambling train track of other doctrines.  Finally, I hit the premillenial kingdom.  Do you realize that no one even heard of that until the mid-1800s?  How can we possibly believe that the men who stood by the Lord as He proclaimed His kingdom and the others who learned directly from them could have missed it?  How can it be that everyone in the next 1800 years was wrong? 

The problem with that doctrine is the same one the apostles first had.  They thought that the kingdom was a physical one, one that included physical armies that would destroy Rome and install a Jewish Messiah on the throne in Jerusalem.  Even they should have known better.  The prophet Jeremiah prophesied that no descendant of Jeconiah (a Davidic king shortly before the captivity) would ever reign in Jerusalem, Jer 22:28-30.  That includes the Messiah.

Finally those men got it, and they fought that carnal notion of anything physical, or even future, about the kingdom for the rest of their lives.  John made it plain that he was in that kingdom, even while he sat on the isle of Patmos writing the book of Revelation, 1:9.  We are in a spiritual kingdom, one where we win victories by overcoming temptation and defeating our selfish desires, one where two natural enemies, like a lion and a lamb, can sit next to each other in peace because we are all “one in Christ Jesus.”

The belief in a physical kingdom here on this earth?  Isn’t that a bit like an astronaut candidate stepping out of a training simulation and proclaiming, “I just landed on the moon?”  Our inheritance is far better than a physical earth--it is “incorruptible, undefiled, [one] that fades not away, reserved in Heaven,” 1 Pet 1:4.  Why should I want something on this earth when I can have that? 

But it will be newly created, you say?  No, Jesus said my reward is already created, “from the foundation of the world,” Matt 25:34.

It will last a thousand years?  Then what?  We cease to exist?  No, no, no.  I was promised “eternal life” Matt 19:29; 25:46; John 3:16; 4:14; 5:24; 6:40; 10:28; Rom 2:7; 5:21; 6:23; 1 Tim 6:12, and—well, there are dozens more, but surely that makes the point.  No wonder no one in the first 18 centuries after Christ lived believed such a doctrine.

We are supposed to have matured in Christ, to have gone beyond the belief in a material, physical kingdom, just as those apostles finally did.  Our kingdom is one in transit.  It may not look like much to the unbeliever, but we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18.  We have a kingdom right now far greater than anything a mortal man can dream up.  It’s just that only those with spiritual eyesight can see it. 

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable hosts of angels, and to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel…At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, "Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens…Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:22-29.

Dene Ward

The first time I ever voted we used something called the Meyers Automatic Booth.  I walked in, pulled a lever which simultaneously closed the curtain and enabled the machine, pulled more levers to vote, then pulled a last one to both open the curtain and disable the machine, rotating the voting and recording mechanisms to be ready for the next voter and to keep the previous votes from being tampered with.  I was surprised to discover that the system was first used in Lockport, New York eighty years before.  Then I found out that Thomas Edison’s first patent, registered on June 1, 1869, was for an electric voting machine.  So why wasn’t that being used?  Because no one wanted to.  Perhaps it was mistrust, surely neither the first nor the last time that word has been used with the word “politics.”

As of 1996, 1.6% of the registered voters in the United States were still using something called the Australian ballot, an official uniform printed ballot first used in Australia in 1856.  In our tiny rural county, we have used an Australian ballot for the past thirty years, voting in a three-sided cubical set on four long wobbly aluminum legs, marking the long piece of paper with a black pen.  Yet I think the mistrust is still there for people no matter how simple or how complex the voting method.

Politics, probably because of the mistrust it engenders, has become an excuse for bad behavior, even in Christians.  Because we disagree with a politician’s morals, because we can cite scripture to prove that they are sinful, we think we have the right to revile, vilify, disrespect, and show contempt for the public figure who practices them.  God says those very actions are sin themselves.

Camp awhile in Romans 13:1-7.  We often use that passage to justify capital punishment.  The ruler “bears not the sword in vain” v 4, but the same passage will condemn us if we are not careful.

Romans 13 tells us to “be subject to the governing authorities” v 1.  It tells us to pay our taxes, vv 6,7.  And yes, it tells us that the civil government is “the avenger of God” on the criminal element of society, v 4.  It also tells us that we are to respect and honor that government, v 7.  In fact, it says that to do otherwise is to resist God and to invite his wrath, vv 2,5.  Remember, Paul was writing this to people under the rule of the Caesars, men who actively persecuted them.  If it applied then, it certainly applies in a democracy.

We are blessed to live in a society that allows us to vote our convictions.  But the freedom of speech guaranteed by our constitution does not undo the principles God gave for how to speak about that government, any more than the laws it might pass undo the inherent immorality of abortion.  God still expects us to honor and respect our rulers, even if they won’t put us in jail for doing otherwise.

Why?  Because God is the one who put them in power.  “Whoever resists the authorities, resists what God has appointed, and whoever resists will incur judgment” v2.  God had a reason for putting that particular man in charge at that particular time.  We may not understand that reason, but it is God’s reason, and He expects our submission. 

Jesus said to Pilate, the man who turned him over to a murderous mob, “You would not have power over me except it were given you from above,” John 19:11.  God had a plan for Pilate, and in hindsight we can see that he fulfilled his purpose.  God has plans for every ruler of every physical nation on earth.  Christians accept God’s plan whether it makes sense to them or not.

Habakkuk had a similar problem.  God told him the Babylonians would come to destroy Israel for their wickedness.  “How can you do that?” Habakkuk asked.  “Yes, your people have sinned, but how can you allow a nation even more wicked to destroy them?”  God’s answer seems almost like a non sequitur.  “The righteous shall live by his faith” 2:4.  Trust me, God was saying, I know what I am doing.

Even today, as our country looks like it is falling farther and farther away from God, we have the same answer from God.  “Trust me.  Live a righteous life and let your faith in me and my decisions get you through this.”  The way we treat the rulers God has placed over us shows exactly how much faith we have in God.  It is that simple.

If we lived under the Law of Moses, many churches would find their rolls decimated--many of their members would have been stoned for “reviling” their rulers, Ex 22:28; 1 Kgs 21:13.  I hear it all the time.  We cannot say it was different then because the rulers were righteous.  You can count on your ten fingers the righteous men who ruled God’s people and have digits leftover.  That law applies because of the chain of command.  They only rule at God’s purpose and pleasure.  To revile them is to revile God, just as Paul reminded those Christians who would someday be persecuted to death by the same rulers.

It is an election year and we are blessed to live in a country where we have the right to vote.  Be sure you do that very thing, voting your morality and your righteous beliefs.  Then trust God and don’t speak against Him when the results are announced.  He knows what He is doing.

For God is the King of all the earth: Sing praises with understanding. God reigns over the nations: God sits upon his holy throne. Psa 47:7-8

Dene Ward

We moved three times when I was growing up.  The last time at the particularly awkward age of 12, from a small town where grades seven through twelve were all housed in a small school labeled “high school” to the biggest city I had ever lived in, a melting pot of cultures and beliefs that made me feel like I had moved to another country altogether.  Schoolyard fights were common and the bathrooms billowed with cigarette and marijuana smoke. 

I hated those first two years of what they called junior high, more than twice the number of students I had been with the year before in one-third the number of grades—8th and 9th.  I had discovered that the school year consisted of 120 days and that first year I kept a small notebook in my desk in which every afternoon I marked off a day, from day one to day 120, four vertical lines and a crossbar every week.

That was also my first experience riding a school bus, and it was not a friendly one.  The government demanded busing in those days to make sure that we were properly desegregated.  Instead of riding safely with a parent to the school near my house, I was hauled off five miles in the opposite direction. 

Most of the upholstery on that old bus was dried out and cracked from the Florida heat, some of the foam padding spilling out, or torn out by bored students, the walls and seatbacks scratched with rusting graffiti, the floors scuffed and covered with gum wads and other sticky things I really didn’t want to contemplate.  The windows stuck either up or down, depending upon who sat there last and how strong he was.  I suppose the engine was in reasonable shape.  It certainly spewed out enough fumes, which then wafted back around the bus and in through the windows.  But that acted as a sort of buffer for the odors of adolescent sweat and far too much Brut and Tabu.

The first morning I stepped on that bus was like something out of a nightmare.  Even though the county had tacked up a list of rules for all to see, rules that included, “No more than two people per seat,” and, “No standing on the bus,” most of the seats were crammed with three people and the unlucky few who had no friends to save them a seat, stood in the middle.  (It was deemed better to break bus safety rules than to break the federal law that required the busing in the first place.)  I was near the end of the pickup route and I knew no one else on board, so I stood.

What a ride that was.  I always carried several thick textbooks stacked on the slanted top of a loose-leaf notebook—no backpacks back then.  It was either hold onto the books or hold myself up as we swung around corners and bounced over railroad tracks.  Somehow I managed to grab the metal back of a seat with my right hand while using my left arm to hold my notebook and books tightly up against me so they wouldn’t slide into the floor on the nearly thirty minute ride across town, made so much longer by the frequent stops for railroad crossings and the multitude of traffic lights and school zones we passed through. 

Before a week was out, though, I had made a friend, another quiet girl as much a fish out of water as I.  She got on the bus three stops before me, when there were still seats available, and she started saving one for me.  That one little thing made the days bearable—I had a place, I belonged.  It meant so much that on the mornings she was absent and I discovered it when I climbed aboard that reeking bus, I nearly cried.

God understands our longing for a place.  He knows we want to belong, we want to matter to someone.  Into a world where the best you could hope for from capricious, petty, spiteful gods was to go unnoticed, the apostles came preaching about a God who actually cared.  Jesus came preaching about a God who knew you so intimately that he could number the hairs on your head, and who willingly provided you the necessities of life.  The disciples spread the word about a God who sacrificed himself to save, who helped bear burdens, and who offered rest and refreshing from a world sometimes too difficult to bear alone.

God is saving you a seat on the bus.  Sometimes the bus hits a bump in the road, just as it did for Job.  Sometimes the driver takes a detour you never planned on, just as happened with Joseph.  Sometimes the route is long and the day hot and stifling as you sit among people who reek of the stench of this world, just as has happened to so many who have taken the ride before you.  But you are not alone.  The Lord got on that bus before you.  He will always be there, and after you count off that last day of “school,” he will give you a place where you can “belong” forever.

I am sending you to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me. Acts 26:18

Dene Ward

Aiding and abetting the enemy is classified as treason under the law.  I wonder if we realize how many times we aid and abet the enemy of the cross?  Usually we are too wrapped up in ourselves to comprehend the perceptions of others and the effects on them.  Our American “rights” tell us we can do and say as we please and it’s no one else’s business.  When you become a Christian, you give up those rights.  The rights of others always supercede yours.

How do people perceive you in a crisis?  Are you the one who stays calm?  The one whose language never slips?  The one who refuses to fall into a pit of despair?  What happens when you are caught in a mistake?  Do you lie about what happened?  Do you blame others, or do you calmly assume responsibility, offer an apology, and work hard to rectify the mistake?  When you see a person in need, do you step in and offer help?  Do you treat others well, regardless how they treat you?  Do you give to all, not just your friends?  How do you handle disagreements or insults?  A Christian never bases his behavior on how others have treated him, but upon what is right and what is wrong.  “But he made me mad,” means someone else is controlling you, and Christians always practice self-control.

If you have ever claimed to be a Christian, these things can very well effect whether anyone will ever listen to you again, or even whether anyone else from the church will ever reach those people.  Too many times I have talked to people only to have them tell me about “someone from your church who…”  Our behavior may have successfully aided the Devil in capturing one more soul.

Sometimes when we think we are doing the Lord’s work, we are really aiding the enemy.  When you talk to people about the church and the gospel, how do you go about it?  It may be extremely uncomfortable, but also eminently practical, to ask others how you are perceived when you teach, when you preach, or just in casual conversation.  Do you notice how many times you use the word “I?”  Do you know whether you tend to be loud or sound bossy?  Does your manner reek of arrogance or sarcasm?  Do you go on far too long, drowning important soul-saving concepts in a sea of words?  When you talk to folks who aren’t Christians (sometimes even when they are), you can’t count on them to be spiritual enough to endure the off-putting habits you might have.  Am I too proud to learn to do better?  If so, I have just aided and abetted the Enemy of the cross of Christ by refusing to “become all things to all men.”

Most people who try to edify others and save the lost are good-hearted individuals who have no idea they come across in these ways.  They would never knowingly aid and abet the enemy of our Savior.  But that enemy is smart—he will use our weaknesses to his own advantage.  Nothing is said or done in a vacuum.  If you aren’t helping the cause of the Lord, you are hurting it, and it can happen even when you think you are doing His will, just by failing to notice what is going on or refusing to listen to those who might have some pretty good advice about how to better go about it.  Don’t commit treason against the Lord.

To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak: I am become all things to all men, that I may by all means save some. And I do all things for the gospel's sake, that I may be a joint partaker thereof. 1 Cor 9:22-23

Dene Ward

Many, many years ago we rented an old frame house with rollercoaster wooden floors, leaky, drafty, fifteen foot ceilings, and, unfortunately, a bad wiring system.  We did not know about the faulty wiring until one by one our appliances started going out.  One of the last was the television, an ancient, secondhand model.  When its replacement blew the minute we turned it on, and the next, which had worked fine in the store, did the same, things began to fall into place—the electric skillet, the vacuum cleaner, the washing machine, and the electric mixer all had died in the week or two before.  A friend came with a voltmeter and we discovered that we were getting 145 volts in the 110 outlets and 290 in the 220s. 

A call to the electric company brought an inspection.  It wasn’t the old wiring after all; it was the transformer, which meant the electric company was at fault and paid for all the appliances, at depreciated value, of course, but at least we had a little help.  I’ll tell you this, though—never since then have I had a mixer that could whip egg whites in ten seconds flat.

Sometimes I feel like I need a little extra voltage, don’t you?  Life has its difficult moments, and it seems the older you are and the less strength your body has to deal with it, the more difficulty it must withstand.  But spiritually speaking, that should not be the case.  Age means experience, which means wisdom, which means things are handled better and more easily, right?

Lucas recently repeated something he had heard from someone somewhere.  “Sometimes the discretion of wisdom is just the result of being too tired to act.”  I identified with the thought immediately.  I wonder how many times I have been complimented for my restraint in handling things when the momentary lag of weariness just gave me enough time to think first, or maybe when it just plain overwhelmed me enough to keep me still and out of trouble.

I feel sometimes like I need a spark, that extra voltage that made a stiff meringue faster than I ever had before.  We all tend to become complacent, to take for granted the spiritual blessings we have, even salvation.  It usually shows in our anemic zeal and ho-hum worship.

And we get tired of the fight.  Yet again someone has belittled the Word of God, or taken His name in vain, or simply treated sin as normal and anyone who thinks otherwise as a bigoted fanatic.  After fighting for God for so many years, feeling like we are making no headway at all in a world dominated by sin, we just sit back and let it happen.  What good will it do anyway?

You never know.  More than once I have spoken out alone, only to suddenly find several others standing next to me—people who were too fearful to speak until they heard someone else.  I have found out, many days after the fact, that when I stood for the truth, or acted like a Christian is supposed to act in the face of mistreatment, that it helped someone else do the same later on.  And many, many more times, I have been the fearful one who was helped simply by seeing a warrior for righteousness take on Satan and his minions single-handedly.

So take some spiritual vitamins today.  Pray, read the scripture, meditate in your break time, call a brother or sister and revel in their love—that’s why they are there, that’s why God gave us each other.  Put a jolt of extra voltage in your spiritual life and don’t give in to weariness.  You do make a difference for the Lord.

You are righteous, O Jehovah, and upright are your judgments.  You have commanded your testimonies in righteousness and very faithfulness.  My zeal has consumed me because my adversaries have forgotten your word.  Your word is very pure, therefore shall your servant love it.  I am small and despised, yet I do not forget your precepts.  Your righteousness is an everlasting righteousness and your law is truth.  Psa. 119:137-142.     

Dene Ward

In case you haven't noticed, I have a guest writer at the end of every month.  As usual, today is my husband, Keith.

In his first recorded sermon to the Gentiles, the apostle Paul declared that God fulfilled the promises made to the Patriarchs “in that he raised up Jesus as it is written, thou art my son, this day have I begotten thee” (Ax 13:33).  Therefore, in the spiritual sense, the resurrection day was Christ’s birthday as the Son of God. Paul expands our understanding, “who was declared the son of God with power by the resurrection from the dead” (Rom 1:4). So, by the resurrection God declared that Jesus was his son. Yes, Logos existed with God and was God from eternity, before time was; yes, God twice declared from heaven, "This is my son in whom I am well pleased.”  Yet, the resurrection was the final stamp of approval that made it official and proclaimed to all, “Thou art my Son.”

I believe the tomb was empty that Sunday morning so many centuries ago.  Do you?  Jesus appeared to hundreds who would witness to all who would hear, “He is risen” (1 Cor 15:5-8). That resurrection is a historical fact and its impact is measured in the lives of thousands, then and now. Has that glory touched you?

Paul declared that baptism replicates the resurrection (Rom 6:3-6).  We are buried (immersed) in water as he was buried in the earth; we are raised (not drowned) from that water to new lives.  It is by the “working of God” that this baptism is a declaration, “Thou art my son.”  If one does not believe in Jesus, if his dedication is not with all his heart and soul and might, then baptism is just a dunking. If he does, then God works through Jesus’ resurrection, making a man’s emergence from the water a resurrection from the death of sin into a life of sonship (Col 2:12).

Being a “good person” is not enough. I must ask myself, “Have I truly begun my journey of faith by the commitment wherein God declares, ‘Thou art my son?’”  From baptism, I must press on.  I cannot doubt the seriousness of Paul’s commitment and yet even he prayed “to be found in him…having a …righteousness through faith in Christ that I may know him and the power of his resurrection” (Phil 3:9-10).

Baptism is not merely a one time action; it is a commitment to sonship that determines the choices we make and the way we live. God declared that we were His children based upon our absolute commitment at baptism. He continues to declare that we are “in him” because we live in the power of Jesus’ resurrection and are overcoming daily through him (1 Jn 4:4).

We must all ask, “Does my faith overpower life so that God continually declares, ‘Thou art my son?’”

…because they formerly did not obey, when God's patience waited in the days of Noah, while the ark was being prepared, in which a few, that is, eight persons, were saved through water. Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, 1 Peter 3:20-21

Keith Ward.

Hindsight, rather than being 20/20 and helping us understand better, can often blind us when studying the Bible, particularly the life of Jesus.  Every time we see something Jesus did, we see it complete with the Son of God “halo” over his head and miss the effect it would have had on the people then.  What they saw was Josh, the son of Joe Carpenter, John 6:42.  (Joshua is Hebrew for Jesus.)

Let’s try this:  Imagine five or six of the most stable, godly, faithful Christian women you know.  Go ahead, name them out loud—real people with faces you can see in your mind.  Now imagine they suddenly started following around some itinerant preacher who vilified the leading men of your congregation (Matt 23), taught things that seemed opposite of what you had heard all your life (Matt 5,6), and actually threw things and people out of the meetinghouse (John 2, Mark 11).  Not only that, but every time he needed something, these women whipped out their checkbooks and took care of it for him.  And he wasn’t even handsome (Isa 53:2).  What would you think?  Have they gone nuts?!!!    

And it came to pass that he went about through cities and villages teaching…along with certain women who ministered to them of their substance.  Luke 8:1-3

Susanna, Joanna, Mary Magdalene and others, probably Mary and Martha, and Aunt Salome, too, were those stable, godly, faithful women.  “They were following Jesus,” we think, “so it was perfectly normal,” and miss the sacrifices they made and the courage they had.  They were probably the topic of conversation in every home in their communities.  Can’t you just hear the women gossiping, and the men mocking their husbands?  “You mean he actually let’s her get away with that?  Just who wears the biggest robes in his family, anyway?”  They also risked being kicked out of the synagogue, which would have put an end to their social lives and maybe their economic lives as well. 

Would I have been as brave?  Would you?  Are we that brave now, or do we find ourselves saying things like, “We need to be careful what the community thinks about us.  We don’t want to be controversial.  Why, they may think we’re fanatics!”  There are times when you just can’t worry about what other people think.

The next time you study, remember, you are looking from only one perspective and sometimes that blinds you to things that should be obvious.  Clear your mind and appreciate what these people went through, and try to be as strong and brave as they were.

And who is he that will harm you if you are zealous of that which is good?  But even if you should suffer for righteousness’s sake, blessed are you and fear not their fear, neither be troubled, but sanctify in your hearts Christ as Lord, being ready always to give answer to every man who asks you a reason concerning the hope that is in you, yet with meekness and fear, having a good conscience that, wherein you are spoken against they may be put to shame who revile your good manner of life in Christ. 1 Pet 3:13-16

Dene Ward

Getting old is the pits or, as is popular to say among my friends, it isn’t for wimps. 

I remember when I used to run 30 miles a week and exercise another 5 hours besides.  I lifted light weights and did aerobics and the standard floor exercises for abs and glutes and those floppy chicken wings on the back of your arms—triceps, I think they’re called.  I didn’t like the notion of waving hello to the people in front of me and having those things wave goodbye to the people behind me at the same time.

Now, due to doctor’s orders, I have to limit how much I pick up, how long I bend over, and how much and how strenuous the activity I participate in.  Good-bye slim, svelte body (as much as it ever could be with my genes), and hello floppy chicken wings.  Now I can only do a little and boy, does it show—and hurt!

I was doing a little step work the other day (very little) when a knife-sharp stab stopped me in my tracks.  Yeow!  What was that?  So I stepped up again and found out immediately—it was something deep inside my knee.  I stopped and thought.

In all that exercising over the years I have learned at least a little bit about it.  For example, if you change the angle of your body, suddenly you feel the work in a different muscle, sometimes on a completely different part of your body.  When I took that step up, I was using nothing but my knee, a very fragile joint—how many professional athletes have had their careers cut short with a knee injury?  Lifting that much weight over and over and over, even for just the ten minutes I allowed it, was too much for that little joint to bear alone. 

So I focused on changing the working muscle.  All it took was putting the entire foot on the step instead of just my toes, and pushing up from my heel on each repetition.  Suddenly, the large muscle mass from my legs and up through the small of my back was doing all the work (especially that extra large muscle), and my knee scarcely hurt at all.  Ha!  I finished my allotment of sweating for the day with no pain, and only a mild ache where it really needed to be aching in the first place.

That’s exactly what happens to us when we try to bear our burdens alone.  All we are is a fragile little knee joint, when what we need is a huge mass of muscle.  Cast your burden on the Lord and he will sustain you, David said in Psa 55:22.  Do you think that strong warrior didn’t need help at times?  But David was greatly distressed…[and he] strengthened himself in the Lord his God, 1 Sam 30:6.  David was not too macho to know when he needed help and where to get it.

Too many times we try to gain strength from everything but God--money, portfolios, annuities, doctors, self-help programs, counseling, networking, anything as long as we don’t have to confess a reliance on God.  It isn’t weak to depend upon your Almighty Creator—it’s wisdom and good common sense.  The Lord is my helper, I will not fear; what can man do to me? asked the Hebrew writer in 13:6.  Indeed, not only is what man can do to you nothing compared to the Lord’s power, what he can do for you is even less. 

When life starts stabbing you in the heart with pain, anxiety, and distress shift your focus.  Remember who best can bear the weight of sin and woes, and let Him make that burden easy enough for you to handle.  I still had to use my knees that day, but they certainly felt a lot better than they did before, and even better the next morning.  By yourself, you will do nothing but ruin your career (Eph 4:1) with a knee injury, but you and the Lord can handle anything.

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:6-7

Dene Ward

When I was a child I learned quickly that meeting with the saints was more important than anything else I might like to do at the given time.  My earliest memories of our faith are sitting in my mother’s lap while my Daddy led the singing, and then sitting on the front pew with him when my little sister came along and usurped my throne.  On Sunday and Wednesday we went to services.  Every night of every gospel meeting we went to services.  Every time the people of God met together, we met with them, and neither convenience, nor school functions, nor social gatherings of any kind got in the way.  As soon as we found out there was a conflict, there wasn’t one, because my parents taught us that nothing and no one was more important than God. 

Nowadays it has become fashionable to not only dismiss the assemblies as unimportant, but to talk about anyone who thinks they are as “Sunday morning Christians” at best, and Pharisaical hypocrites at worst.  That was not true in my family.  In my house at least, the assemblies were object lessons:  if you won’t do this easy thing for the Lord, will you ever do anything more difficult? 

My parents lived their lives the rest of the week as godly servants of others, visiting the sick, cooking and carrying food to those who needed it, showing hospitality, sending financial support to preachers in need, buying supplies for poor churches they had heard about, and keeping themselves pure from the worldliness that surrounded them, even when it made them unpopular with their extended family, neighbors, and co-workers.  And they also taught their children to follow in their steps, children who have now taught 9 grandchildren, beginning early on, that gathering with God’s people is important.  All the accountable ones are faithful Christians seven days a week.

Do you think God’s people have ever thought that the assembly rituals were the only thing there was to their religion?  The Law of Moses was intricately bound up in the everyday lives of God’s people.  It wasn’t just “Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy,” and nothing else.  Sacrifices were required for various times in their lives, the birth of children, death in the family and other times of uncleanness, sin offerings, and thanksgiving other than the mandated feast days.  Harvest time meant remembering to leave the corners and the missed crop behind for the poor.  It meant time for tithing the increase.  The Law pervaded their lives and these things were done any and every day of the week. 

Even in Jesus’ time the people led lives of worship.  The Pharisees fasted twice a week, not on the Sabbath but on Monday and Thursday, ordinary weekdays.  Jewish families lined the doors and walls of their houses with scriptures—the original post-it notes.  Their lives revolved around the feast days, which demanded making extensive travel plans and saving money for the trip all year long.  They had rabbis in their homes to ask them questions and hear them teach.  That’s how Jesus often wound up among them. 

All these people worshipped throughout the week, but it wasn’t the instant cure for hypocrisy some seem to think, was it?  Many of those labeled hypocrites by the Lord looked down on others for not being as enlightened as they were.  Sort of like folks today who think they are better than anyone who dares utter the phrase “Sunday worship service.”

Perhaps these people should get off their high horse and follow the Lord’s example.  Even if they don’t think the assemblies are important, Jesus did.  Where was the first place we find him seeing to “His Father’s business?”  He met with God’s people in the synagogues all the time, and synagogue worship was only a tradition, not something included in the Law.  He attended the feast days, including the one which was simply a civil holiday.  He taught the apostles to do the same.  Paul went to the synagogues expecting to find there the best prospects for the gospel—imagine that!  Too bad some of our more informed brethren couldn’t be there to teach him better.

Of course Sunday morning isn’t all there is to it.  God never meant it to be, but don’t become an unrighteous judge of people who believe it is important.  That’s how a lot of us learned about serving God, not only by being there for the Bible study, but by putting it first over every other worldly thing in our lives, even if they weren’t sinful things.  Babes must crawl before they can run. 

 Hebrews commands us to consider one another to provoke one another to love and good works.  That’s what we do when we meet together.  It isn’t love to look on your brethren with contempt, and that’s what I am seeing in these prideful attitudes of instant dismissal when anyone speaks of our gatherings as “worship.” 

Seems to me, someone needs to be provoked a little more.

Acts 1:13,14; 2:1; 2:42; 2:46; 6:1-3; 14:27; 20:7; 1 Cor 5:4; 11:17-28; all of chapter 14; Heb 10:23-25—the reasons we gather.  I will let you choose the one you think is most important.  Better yet—read them all.

Dene Ward