After reading them for so many years, I can skim a recipe and garner all sorts of necessary information in that quick once-over.  Not just whether I have the ingredients, but how long it will take, what I can do ahead of time, what equipment I will need, the substitutions I can make if necessary, and whether I can cut it in half or freeze half of it.  Sometimes, though, a recipe needs a closer reading.

            I made a vegetable lasagna once that turned out well, but was way too big.  I took over half of the leftovers to my women’s class potluck and it got rave reviews and several requests.  So I went home and started typing the two page recipe containing at least two dozen ingredients.  The typing required a careful reading of the recipe so I wouldn’t give anyone wrong amounts or directions, and as I did so I discovered that I had completely forgotten one ingredient and had missed one of the procedures.  Just imagine how good it would have been if I had done the whole thing correctly.

            Too many times we try to read the Bible like I read that recipe, especially the passages we think we already know.  I have said many times to many classes, the biggest hindrance to learning is what you think you already know.  Today I am going to prove it to you.

            Have you ever said, or even taught, that turning the water to wine was the first miracle Jesus ever did?  I know, it’s what all the Bible class curricula say.  Well, it’s your job to check out those lessons with your own careful reading.  Most of the time that means reading far beyond the actual lesson text.  This isn’t even hard to see, but you do have to think about what you see.  Some time today when you have the time—okay, make the time—read the following verses.
 
John 1:45-51--Jesus tells Nathanael that he saw him before it was possible for him to see him.  This was enough of a miracle that it brought a confession from Nathanael: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God, you are the King of Israel”, v 49.
2:11--“This is the first of his signs” (water to wine)
2:23--“Now when he was in Jerusalem at the Passover Feast, many believed on his name when they saw the signs that he was doing.” (Notice, this is an unknown number of signs,)
4:16-19--Jesus tells the woman at the well all about her life, a life he could not have known about except miraculously.  She would later tell her neighbors, “Come see a man who told me all that ever I did.  Can this be the Christ?” v 29.  She certainly thought she had seen a miracle.
4:46-54--Jesus heals the nobleman’s son, which John labels “the second sign that Jesus did.”  What about John 1?  What about 2:23?  What about Samaria?
 
            For years I read “first” and “second,” knowing full well about the other signs before and between them, and didn’t even think about what I was reading. I was reading it like a recipe, a quick once over because I already knew the story.  Now, having seen all the passages together, you can see that “first” and “second” in John 2:11 and 4:54 obviously do not mean the simple chronological “first” and “second” you might think at first glance.  You need the entire context of John to figure it out.

            Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name, John 20:30,31.  Right there John tells you not only why he wrote his book, but that he simply chose certain signs to discuss in detail.  If you do a careful study of the entire book, you will discover that he chose seven, each making a particular point about the power of Jesus that proves his Deity.  No, I am not going to list them for you.  You need to take up your Bibles and figure it out for yourself so you know firsthand.   

            When John says “This is the first,” and “this is the second,” he is simply referring to the list of seven he intends to discuss more fully.  Turning the water to wine was the first on his list, NOT the first miracle Jesus ever did, and all you have to do is read earlier in the book to see at least one more—Nathanael’s.  In fact, you cannot even count the number he did in between the “first” and the “second,” 2:23.

            So, be careful what you believe.  Be even more careful what you teach because that could affect many others.  Pay attention to the details and don’t pull events and verses out of context.  Do you want to know why so many false doctrines spread?  Because people read the “proof texts” like a recipe, a quick scan instead of a careful reading, if indeed they read them at all.

            Don’t skim the Word of God.  Give it the attention it deserves.           
 
And we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Pet 1:19.
 
Dene Ward

My family loves gravy.  I would never think of serving bare rice or naked mashed potatoes.  There must always be gravy. 

            On the other hand, sometimes you cannot have gravy.  When you grill a steak, there is no gravy.  When you smoke a chicken quarter, there is no gravy, and if somehow you did catch the drippings, you wouldn’t want them.  Believe me, I tried it once.  Smoked drippings simply taste bitter.  Oh, you can always fake it with butter, flour, and canned broth, but any gravy connoisseur will know the difference.  You only get really good gravy with fresh meat drippings, flour sizzled in the pan, and some kind of liquid.

            Yet, if your life depended upon it, you would choose the meat over the gravy any time.  You would know that the only real nutritional value, the only real protein, is in the meat and not the gravy.  If you tried to live on nothing but gravy alone, you would soon starve.  You might be round as a beach ball, but you would still starve.

            Too many times we give up the meat for the gravy.  We give up marriages and families for the sake of career and money.  We give up a spiritual family that will help us no matter what for fair weather friends who won’t.  We even give up our souls for the sake of good times, status, and convenience.

            Then there are the times when it seems like life makes no gravy.  So we give up God because he dared to allow something less than ease, comfort, and fun into our lives.  Can’t have the gravy too?  Then I don’t want you, Lord.  You’re going to give up a grilled rib eye because it doesn’t come with gravy?  Really?

            I doubt we realize exactly what we are doing.  The problem is that we have things reversed.  We think this life is the meat, and the next is just the gravy.  That is what we are saying when we give up on God because things didn’t turn out so well here.  Justin Martyr, a philosopher who was converted to Christianity in the early half of the second century wrote, “Since our thoughts are not fixed on the present, we are not concerned when men put us to death.  Death is a debt we must all pay anyway” First Apology, chapter 11. 

            Can we say that, or are we too addicted to our pleasure loving, wealthy culture?  The first Christians converted with the knowledge that they would probably lose everything they owned and die within a matter of weeks, if not days.  And us?  We are out there looking for the gravy and blaming God for his scanty menu.

            The fact is we do have some gravy promised in this life.  We just look for it in the wrong places.  Then Peter said in reply, "See, we have left everything and followed you. What then will we have?" Jesus said to them …everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or lands, for my name's sake, will receive a hundredfold and will inherit eternal life. Matt 19:27,29.  Are you still looking to the world for your gravy?  Jesus plainly says the place to look is in your spiritual family.  When it works as he intended--even if it only comes close—it is far better than anything the world will ever offer you.

            So remember where to find your spiritual sustenance.  Remember where to go when times are rough and you need a hand.  And even those things are not the meat.  The meat is eternal life with a Creator who loved you enough to die.

            Everything else is just gravy.
 
…train yourself for godliness; for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come, 1 Tim 4:7,8.
 
Dene Ward

We had been unhappy with our griddle for a good while, so Keith went online shopping and found an appliance called a Griddler, put out by Cuisinart.  This little contraption with two heating elements that can either lie flat next to each other or fold over on each other, and with four interchangeable plates, two of which are double-sided, can be a panini press, a grill pan, a waffle iron, or it can be opened flat and used as a griddle.

              It does have a few disadvantages.  Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem.  It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too.  However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster. 

              The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick.  Boy, are they nonstick.  You want to know how I found out?

              When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all.  Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run.  But eggs are another thing entirely.  Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up.  It looks close enough that I did not realize that.

              One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner.  I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface.  Then I poured on the raw eggs. 

              Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan.  Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet.  I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough.  All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again.  I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.

              Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible.  At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan.  Keith came running and saw what was happening.  He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor.  That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there.  I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not.  Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor.  He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam.  Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.

              We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened.  The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.

              Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."

              Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."

              Or, "That's your job not mine."

              Or, "Someone else will take care of it."

              Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.

           We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.

           Too bad that's what happens in the church too often.  And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)
 
Dene Ward

Cooking is a funny thing.  Sometimes you can mess around with it and sometimes you can’t.  My recipe for minestrone is not something a purist would recognize as minestrone, and it’s never the same.  Some of it depends upon what’s in the refrigerator, and some of it comes from our likes and dislikes.  You can change it around, but as long as it winds up as a brothy soup with a bunch of vegetables in it, some kind of pasta, and some Mediterranean herbs, you can call it minestrone.  You really can’t mess it up unless you do something just plain weird with it, like pouring in a bottle of molasses.

            Baking is another matter.  You must think long and hard before you change anything in a recipe for baked goods.  If you don’t, it can fall, or not rise, or be too dry to choke down, or so “short” that it turns into crumbs when you touch it.  If you use baking soda, you must have an acid like buttermilk or sour cream.  If you get any fat in your egg whites they won’t whip.  If you don’t heat the liquid, your yeast won’t rise, but if you heat it too much you kill it. Baking is chemistry and it does make a difference.

            A lot of people don’t want to follow any sort of recipe in their religion.  They think it is about good hearts, sincere love, and feeling good, none of which is quantifiable, and therefore none of which can be legislated.  They will proclaim that the early church did things differently depending upon the location and the culture, and in some cases they are correct.  Just like cooking minestrone can be varied according to the ingredients on hand and the palates of the eaters.  But sometimes it is like baking—it does make a difference if you don’t want your cake to fall.

            The word may not be used in the New Testament, but the concept of an appropriate orthodoxy is there in black and white.

            And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, with prayer and fasting they committed them to the Lord in whom they had believed. Acts 14:23.

            That is why I sent you Timothy, my beloved and faithful child in the Lord, to remind you of my ways in Christ, as I teach them everywhere in every church. 1 Cor 4:17.

            Only let each person lead the life that the Lord has assigned to him, and to which God has called him. This is my rule in all the churches. 1 Cor 7:17.

            For God is not a God of confusion but of peace. As in all the churches of the saints, I Cor 14:33.

            Now concerning the collection for the saints: as I directed the churches of Galatia, so you also are to do. 1 Cor 16:1.

            There are certain things the apostles expected to be done everywhere.  The methods were not always specified, and that’s where we get to choose our ingredients, but the other things are religious “baking”—things that must be done for our service to God to be acceptable.  If we think we can change the chemistry we are wrong.  Put egg whites in a greasy bowl and they will not turn into a beautiful meringue no matter how sincerely you beat them.

            As you can plainly see from the passages quoted above, God expects some control over our service to him.  Some folks chafe at the idea that we cannot change anything and everything about our religious service at our own whims.  Israel had the same problem and wound up in Babylonian captivity.  Don’t make the mistakes they did.
 
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury, Rom 2:6-8.
 
Dene Ward
 

The kitchen must be the favorite room in nearly every home.  It’s where the family meets to share their meals and their day, to gather important information—“Mom! Where are my good jeans?”—to pick up sustenance when the time between meals is long and the activities vigorous, and a place for sharing thoughts, dreams, and childhood troubles over chocolate chip cookies and ice cold milk.  When the kitchen is full of people and laughter, all is right with the world.

            That makes the kitchen floor a microcosm of how we all live.  All you have to do is drop something small, something that requires your face to be an inch above the floor trying to spy the odd shape or color, and suddenly you know everything anyone has eaten, spilled, or tracked in, even if you clean your floor regularly.  If I had every dustpan full of sweepings over my 38 years of marriage, it would make a ten foot pile high of sugar granules, flour, cornmeal, panko, cookie crumbs, Cheerios, oats, blueberries, chopped parsley, basil, and rosemary, the papery skins of onions and garlic cloves, freshly ground coffee beans, tiny, stray low dose aspirins, grains of driveway sand, clumps of garden soil, yellow clay, limerock, soot, and burnt wood, strands of hair from blonde to nearly black to gray and white, frayed threads, missing buttons, assorted screws, and loose snips from the edges of coupons.  If I had never cleaned the floor at all, it would be layered with coffee drips, dried splashes of dishwater, bacon grease and olive oil splatter, tea stains, grape juice, and sticky spots from honey and molasses spills while I was baking.  Put it all together and you would have a pretty good idea how we live our lives.

            Every soul has a kitchen floor, places where the accumulated spills of life gather.  We must regularly clean that floor, just as I am constantly sweeping and wiping and mopping, trying to stay ahead of the messes we make. As soon as I miss a day or a week, I have even more to clean up.  It would be ridiculous to think I could ignore that floor and no one would know about us, wouldn’t it? 

            Jesus said, “Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt 12:34.  You can deny it all you want, but what you speak shows who you really are.  I can say I never bake, but whoever sweeps my floor will know better.  I can pretend we don’t like Italian cuisine, but the evidence is right there.  I can tell everyone we live in the city instead of the country, but the soil on my floor will say otherwise.  It is getting harder for me to see those things now and to sweep them up perfectly, but my blindness to them will not keep others from knowing exactly what I do here all day long.

            That kitchen floor of a heart will tell on you too.  All you have to do is open your mouth.  If you don’t keep it cleaned up, if you don’t monitor the things you store in it, it could belie your protestations of a righteous life.  Sooner or later a word will slip out, a thought will take root and become a spoken idea.  I heard someone say once that you cannot imagine in others what is not already in your own heart. 

            Of course, what’s on your floor could prove your righteous life instead of denying it.  So take a moment today to examine your kitchen floor.  Let it remind you to examine your heart as well.  I had much rather people see sugar and cookie crumbs than Satan’s muddy footprints.
 
Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O LORD, my rock and my redeemer, Psa 19:14.    
      
Dene Ward

Many years ago we were in a discussion with a group of Christians about the word “temptation” when Keith mentioned that “tempt” by its very definition means a possibility of and a desire to give in to that temptation.  No one wanted to accept that statement, probably because we all want to believe that we don’t want to sin.  We happened to know a certain brother’s dessert preferences because we had often eaten with that couple, and suddenly the solution came to me.
 
           “Bill cannot be tempted off his diet by a coconut cream pie,” I said.  “He cannot be tempted that way because he hates coconut.  Maybe chocolate, but not coconut.”  Click!  The light bulb went on for practically everyone.  Suddenly they understood what it meant to be tempted. 

            That understanding can lead to all sorts of discussions and get you into some deep water, but consider this one thing with me this morning.  I was “raised in the church,” as we often put it.  I had parents who taught me right from wrong in no uncertain terms.  Frankly, I have never even been tempted by most of the “moral” sins out there in the world.  I know a lot of others in the same situation.  But that doesn’t make us any better than someone who has just recently given his life to the Lord.  I am afraid that sometimes we think it does make us better.  When a young Christian tells me that older Christians look down on him when he says he still struggles with sin, I know we think so.

            Yet how does the fact that you have never struggled with a certain sin make you stronger than one who does?  In fact, since you have never struggled with it, how do you know you could win the fight at all?  There may be other temptations that cause us to fall, and not needing to fight one doesn’t mean we would be any better at fighting others.

            It only shows how weak we are when we pride ourselves on the fact that we have never been tempted in certain areas.  Ironically, that very feeling is our weakness, the thing that tempts us, and the thing in which we usually fail--pride, self-righteousness, unjust judgment, and a failure to love as we ought.

            What is your coconut cream pie?  What distaste keeps you from even being tempted in one area, and as a result, makes you fail the test of humility?  I might have to have a piece of pie while I think about it.
 
 And he spoke also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought: 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 that exalts himself shall be humbled; but he that humbles himself shall be exalted, Luke 18:9-14.   
 
Dene Ward

My mother recently moved and among the things she left behind were half a dozen old cookbooks printed in the 40s, 50s, and 60s.  I spent a few minutes leafing through them.  Our culture’s tastes have certainly changed in the past fifty or sixty years.

              Most of the recipes I found were for simple fare with plain ingredients.  When I was a child, my mother’s favorite market did not have an “International Foods” aisle.  The only pastas available were spaghetti and elbow macaroni.  The only salad dressings were Italian, Thousand Island, and that bright red-orange French.  All olives were green and pimento stuffed.  The only baked beans were Van Camp’s pork and beans or B & M baked beans, which none of us Southerners liked.  There was only one kind of rice and no couscous to be found.  The most exotic ingredient any of my mother’s favorite recipes called for was La Choy soy sauce.  No one had ever heard of Kikkoman.

              Yet each recipe in those old cookbooks was headed by a comment like, “Very filling,” or “Easy and good,” or “A family favorite.”  And I know those statements were true because I remember eating some of those recipes and even the dishes they were served in on our family table.  Not only were they good and filling, they were inexpensive, even in today’s dollars.  But would anyone even be tempted to use those old recipes today?  Would we serve them to guests?  I doubt it.  Somewhere along the line we’ve become status conscious, even in our food preferences.

              How about our spiritual tastes?  Just look at a modern worship service.  Would that “mega-church” down the road be satisfied with congregational singing and a simpler sermon loaded with scripture?  No, they demand a praise band for entertainment and a comedian/orator for their “pep rally.”  It is no longer about carefully approaching a Holy God with reverence and fear to offer our gift of worship, but all about how it makes ME feel and what I get out of it.  It’s about whether I approve instead of whether God approves.  Unfortunately, we seem to be falling into the same trap.

              In the time of Ezra and Nehemiah, the people came together to worship, standing for hours as the Law was read (Neh 8).  Then the Levites explained it, “they gave the sense” (8:8), what we would call a sermon.  No praise bands, no shouting, no dancing in the aisles, just a calm, intelligible sermon.  And how did that sermon affect them?

              And all the people went their way to eat and drink and to send portions and to make great rejoicing, because they had understood the words that were declared to them. Neh 8:12

              How about us?  Do we expect, even demand, something besides plain food with simple ingredients?  Are we dissatisfied with the old hymns because we are so Biblically illiterate that we cannot comprehend their depths?  Do we complain about simple old-fashioned sermons because they’re boring? 

              Would we ever stand for hours listening to the Word of God, then go home to Sunday dinner with rejoicing just because we were able to hear His Word?  Or would we cover our meals with the gravy of griping and serve dessert on a platter of complaints?  Is it all about ME instead of all about HIM?
 
Thus says the LORD: “Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, ‘We will not walk in it.’ Jer 6:16
 
Dene Ward

We planted our first garden 41 years ago.  Even though Keith had been brought up with gardens, we were both tyros, especially considering the climate we were in, different from either of our childhoods.  He set me up with all the equipment I would need, and most of which I still use all these years later, canners, mason jars, jar lifters, lids, rings, funnels, sieves, lime, vinegar, canning salt, and cookbooks, I had them all.

              One of the things I knew I wanted to make was a batch of dill pickles.  I love dill pickles.  I could eat a whole jar.  So I looked all over for recipes and found one that was fairly easy.  I did exactly as the recipe said and one afternoon in July lined my shelves with a dozen pints of dill pickles.  The recipe said to let them sit a few weeks, as I recall, so I did, and did not get around to trying them yet. 

              Finally we had company one evening and Keith grilled some hamburgers.  The perfect meal for my pickles, I thought, and proudly set them on the table.  I made a point to put the mason jar on the table so our guests would know they were homemade.  Too bad for me as it turned out.  Keith’s pal took one bite of pickle and tried very hard to keep his face from screwing up, not entirely succeeding.

              “Wow!” he finally choked out.  “These are DIIIIIIILLLLL pickles.”

              I took a bite myself and resolved to not only toss the recipe but every jar in the pantry.  The recipe had called for four tablespoons of dried dill seed per pint.  That’s one-fourth cup, people.  After all these years of experience, I would have looked at that recipe and immediately known something was off, but then I was a newbie and didn’t know any better.

              Ah, but we make the same sort of mistakes as Christians.  But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. Heb 5:14.

              I learned from my mistake with the pickles and tried again, and again, and again, until I finally got it right.  But I would never have gotten it right without all that practice.  That’s what it takes with the Word.  No, it doesn’t take a college degree to understand the Bible and knowing exactly what to do to begin your relationship with Christ is pretty simple, but the Word of God is a profound book.  If all you do is read a chapter a day, you are missing 90% of its power.

              I have seen too many young people, especially those “raised in the church,” spout off simplistic definitions and explanations and think that’s all there is to it, completely missing the depths that can be plumbed with some diligent work.  I’ve seen too many older Christians who have relied on those same one-dimensional catch-phrases instead of growing to the height they should have after all those decades as a Christian that they are so proud of.  And I have seen too many old chestnuts that are patently wrong passed from generation to generation. 

              If reading Hebrews 7 doesn’t send you immediately back to Genesis 14 and Psalm 110, if seeing the word “promise” doesn’t make you instantly check for a reference to the Abrahamic promise, if reading the sermons in Acts doesn’t make you realize exactly how important it is to know the Old Testament, you have not been “exercising your senses” in the Word. 

           Please be careful of anything that sounds too pat, that makes arguments based on simplistic definitions or the spelling of English words (“Godliness is just a contraction of God-like-ness”).  Do not repeat anything you did not check out with careful study yourself.  And if you are still quite young, please check out your understanding with someone who is not only older, but well-versed in the scripture, and be willing to listen and really consider.  Do you know who I have the worst trouble with in my classes?  People who were “raised in the church.”  They are far less likely to even consider that they might be wrong about something and to change their minds than a brand new Christian, converted from the world with a boatload of misconceptions.

            You cannot know too much scripture.  It is impossible to be “over-educated” in the Word.  The more you know, the more motivation you will have to live up to your commitment to God, the better person you will be, and the fewer embarrassing mistakes you will make when you open your mouth. 
 
…put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Col 3:10
 
Dene Ward

We first discovered pluots three or four years ago when we set about to try one new fruit or vegetable a week.  We have discovered many yummy treats, most too expensive to enjoy regularly or in any volume, but pluots, a cross between plums and apricots, are reasonably priced in season, and delicious.

            Hybrids can be a good thing, increasing size and yield, and creating resistance to certain plant diseases.  Hybrids can also be a bad thing, dulling flavor distinctions and, of course, making it impossible to save the seeds for next year, thus increasing the cost of gardening.  Heirloom varieties are becoming popular for a reason.

            Sometimes when we sow the seed, instead of creating “heirloom Christians,” we wind up with hybrids.  The best way to avoid that is to make sure we are good old fashioned New Testament Christians ourselves, with no trace of sectarianism in us. 

            Do any of the mainstream “isms” show up in your language and thinking? 

              “Lord, we know we sin all the time.”  Sounds like total depravity to me. 

            “I know I’m not living right, but at least I’ve been baptized.”  Am I hearing once saved always saved?

            “The preacher didn’t visit me in the hospital.”  You did say “preacher” didn’t you? Or do you mean denominational “pastor?”

            Allowing denominational practices to warp our understanding of the simple gospel can lead to all sorts of problems, not the least of which is a congregation that becomes far more like its denominational neighbors than like its first century sisters.  When we expect a preacher to spend more time holding hands than holding Bible studies, when our traditions and our language show signs of various manmade doctrines instead of the simple elements found in the epistles, we need to check our bloodlines.

           I pointed out how a certain activity was performed in the New Testament once, only to have someone say in a startled tone, “That would never fly here.”  If it’s simply a matter of expedience, fine.  After all, it is 2000 years removed.  But if it’s because we’ve allowed faulty understanding from a past of bad theology to taint our thinking, it’s not.

            God doesn’t want hybrid Christians, not even pluots.  He wants a people who approach His word and His divine institution with pure hearts and minds, unadulterated from years of false teaching.  In God’s eyes, there are no good hybrids, just defiled pedigrees.
 
Moreover all the chiefs of the priests, and the people, trespassed very greatly after all the abominations of the nations; and they polluted the house of Jehovah which he had hallowed in Jerusalem, 2 Chron 36:14
That he might present the church to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish, Eph 5:27.
 
Dene Ward

A few days ago, I used up several items at once that normally sit on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator door—the cranberry juice, the ketchup and the mustard.  Suddenly a third of that shelf was bare and I was horrified.  How in the world did it ever get that dirty?

            I pulled out the mayonnaise, the tahini, the Worcestershire and soy sauces, the maple syrup, the sesame seed oil, and the hoisin and was even more appalled.  Black rings, sticky smears, and brown drops covered the narrow plastic ledge.  I always wipe things off before I put them up, don’t I?  Well, maybe not always.  Sometimes we’re in a hurry, sometimes my hands are full, sometimes I leave the putting up for someone else.  Needless to say, I cleaned that shelf immediately, and the next day the whole refrigerator.
 
           That sort of thing happens far more often than we like to think and in far more important places than refrigerators.  Relationships come to mind.
 
           I think wedding anniversaries are important, and not because I am a woman with unrealistic expectations.  We have never been able to afford expensive gifts or excursions.  Most often we stay at home and have a quiet dinner together.  Sometimes it isn’t even on the same day as our anniversary.  A long time ago we stopped making the calendar our taskmaster.  We celebrate birthdays on weekends, and holidays around work schedules.  We have even celebrated our mid-June anniversary in July.
 
           No, the thing about anniversaries is the re-connecting.  You talk, you remember, you plan.  You remind yourselves why you wound up together in the first place, and the place you want to eventually wind up together for eternity.  In doing so every year, or even more often, you get that shelf cleaned up before the stains have a chance to set, before the caked on residue of life builds to the point that only a hard, painful scrub can remove it.

            The same thing can happen among brethren.  Why do you think God expects us to go to one another instead of letting things fester?  Most problems between good-hearted people are simple misunderstandings that can be cleaned up with a quick wipe.  You only need harsh abrasives when you let them sit awhile.

            When was the last time you checked your relationship with your God?  The last time you talked to him?  The last time you let him speak to you by opening his Word?  When was the last time that communication actually effected a change in you?  When did you alter plans for the day or the attitude you presented to your family, or friends, or even perfect strangers because of your relationship with God?  Maybe the grunge on your shelf has gotten too thick to penetrate.

            Pay attention to the things you seldom think to look at, the things you take for granted.  Wipe off your shelves once in a while, whether you think they need it or not.
 
Who shall ascend the hill of the LORD? And who shall stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to what is false and does not swear deceitfully. He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God of his salvation, Psalm 24:3-5
 
Dene Ward