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            When we camp we eat more convenience food than any other time of the year.  When you are trying to pack a week’s worth into one cooler and two 2 x 1 x 1 ½ foot plastic containers, and when there is no place to put leftovers, a packaged pasta or rice mix and a small can of vegetables is the perfect-sized accompaniment for whatever meat Keith is grilling that night.  Let’s face it, an inch thick rib chop, seasoned with herbs and spices and cooked over a wood fire is the star of the show anyway.

            As for dessert, store-bought cookies are a staple.  However, my family is spoiled by homemade cookies so just any old Chips Ahoy won’t do, not even Oreos.  So we splurge a bit on the cookies. 

            A box of Walker’s Pure Butter Shortbread Bars, imported from Scotland, are a favorite.  Melt-in-your-mouth-rich with the flavor and mouth-feel of real butter, and barely sweetened, they are the perfect accompaniment to a cup of instant hot chocolate—another camping necessity. 

            Another standby is any Pepperidge Farm cookie, depending upon what’s available when I hit the stores the week before a campout.  Walker’s Shortbread makes them look like a bargain, so I buy two kinds rather than just one.  If you have ever had any, you know they come in fluted paper cups, like big, white, muffin pan liners, either nestled in a variety box or stacked in a tall foil-lined paper bag. 

            To minimize the amount of trash we need to stow away from the coons, possums, and bears, we usually toss anything that will burn into the campfire as we finish its contents.  On our last trip we tossed the cup from the first layer of Chewy Fruit and Nut Granola Cookies into the fire.  Somehow in the draft of the fire it landed right side up in the middle of a scrap board Keith had just thrown in as well.  Both sat right in front of an oak log that had coaled up on the bottom, but not yet begun to burn.

            Temperatures were in the forties that night, so we had a good hot fire going with backlogs to reflect the heat our way and glowing embers several inches deep.  Ordinarily a thin piece of paper in a fire like that won’t last five seconds, including burn time.  Because of how it landed, that little cup sat there five full minutes.  Once, a gust of wind tried to blow it into the fire, but the fire’s updraft on either side of it pushed it right back to the middle of the board.  Only a small dark singe mark on its pleated edge showed how close a call it had been.

            Finally, though, the board itself began to burn from either end and the flames crept inexorably toward the paper cup.  Suddenly, in one rapid whoosh, the cup caught fire and was gone in less than a second, its final glowing ash floating into the air before finally winking out in the cold black above.

            Too many times we are like that little fluted paper liner.  We get ourselves into a place we have no business being, into circumstances that should have ended badly.  Yet because God is good, we are saved from the world of hurt we deserved.  Then, instead of appreciating the second chance and removing ourselves from that dangerous place, we stay there and gloat.  “See?  Nothing happened.  I’m just fine.  I told you I could handle it.”

            We sit there smug and confident, certain that everyone who cautioned us was wrong, while disaster sneaks up closer and closer.  In fact, we reach a point where the danger around us seems normal.  We no longer even notice.  We may have a close call or two, but for so many it just adds to the feeling of superiority instead of waking us up.

            And so suddenly, one day, we are gone in a flash—without warning it seems.  But no, we had just become blind to the warnings all around us, fooling ourselves into believing we were safe, while everyone else saw the fire creeping in from all sides.

            Pay attention to where you are today.  Take a mental step back and see the whole picture, not just the safe little ledge you think you have built.  Listen to those around you who can often see much more clearly than you can in the midst of all that smoke and glare.  They wouldn’t say anything and endure your scorn if they didn’t care.

But you, beloved, building up yourselves on your most holy faith, praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life. And on some have mercy, who are in doubt; and some save, snatching them out of the fire; and on some have mercy with fear; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh, Jude 20-23.

Dene Ward

            At the end of every gardening year I always end up with extra plum tomatoes and nothing to do with them.  My pantry is full of canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, and even tomato jam.  So what else is there?  Now that I have a grandson who is a manic dipper of anything he can pick up in his chubby little fingers, I had a sudden epiphany.  “Ketchup!” I said to myself.  “Make the boy some ketchup.”

            So I found an easy recipe—not a quick one by any means, but once you get past the initial chopping and measuring stage, all you do is stir once in awhile for a couple of hours. 

            I did not want to put a lot of energy into something I had never tried, so I made a small batch.  I filled a five quart Dutch oven halfway with chopped plum tomatoes, onions and peppers, sugar, vinegar, and spices, and put them on to cook.  About two and a half hours later I poured up one generous cup of ketchup.  It was definitely the best ketchup I had ever tasted, and plenty for Keith and I who take a year to go through a 32 oz bottle, but it was not going to do for a ketchup fanatic, and it certainly wasn’t worth the work.  Now that I know the recipe is good, though, I will fill two of those pots to the brim and in about the same amount of time have something a little more worthwhile.

            And that is our problem when it comes to converting the world.  We only fill one pot half full and then wonder why we got such a small return.  Then we become discouraged, or worse, decide that God’s way doesn’t work any more and then we really get into trouble, going places and doing things we have no authority for, denigrating God in the process.

            We see the 3000 baptized on Pentecost and say, what’s wrong?  Why can’t we do that?  Let’s do a little math.  Most scholars estimate the population of Jerusalem during a feast day at 1 million or more.  Three thousand out of one million is not that much.  In fact, it’s the same as 300 out of 100,000, or 30 out of 10,000 or 3 out of 1000.  That’s less than one third of one percent, or, to be silly about it, it’s a short one-third of a person for every hundred. 

            Stop being so negative.  Stop allowing sheer numbers without perspective to discourage you.  This is a Biblical principle.  The road is narrow.  Only a few will find it.  We just have to make sure that their inability to find it wasn’t our fault.  And we have to remember above all, that it isn’t God’s fault either.  It is not the fault of His methods.  It is not the fault of His plan.   We certainly cannot improve on the ways of the Almighty.  What we can do is implement them.  Fill as many pots as you have with tomatoes.  If you want a 3000 day, then cook a million.  Most of us can’t do that, but we can cook a hundred in a lifetime surely.  And if all you get is one cup of ketchup, that’s wonderful.  In fact, it’s better than Pentecost.  You did not fail by any means.  You did your part, and, even better, you did it God’s way.

For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. Seeing that Jews ask for signs, and Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumblingblock, and unto Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. 1 Corinthians 1:21-25

Dene Ward

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            A few weeks ago I got out a pretty dress, put on my heels, found a pretty pair of sparkly, dangling earrings, and dabbed on some lipstick.  Keith and I went out to celebrate our anniversary.  He trimmed his beard, wore a coat and tie, and polished up his dress shoes.  Do you think either one of us for a moment thought that because we chose to dress up for each other on that evening that we didn’t love each other the other 364 days of the year?  If we had, we would not have been celebrating number 40.

            Our assemblies have gotten more casual in dress as the years have gone by.  I understand that dress has nothing to do with the heart.  Sometimes people clean up the outside when it’s the inside that matters.  I would never judge a person as being less than devoted to the Lord because he wore jeans to the assembly, or because he waited on the Lord’s table without a tie on.  I think most of us have gotten past such superficiality. 

            Recently, though, someone said in my hearing that we needed to realize that we serve God all the time, not just on Sundays and that dressing up on Sundays was a sign of being a “Sunday morning Christian.”  I certainly agree with the first part of that statement, but I think the second half goes too far.

            I still wear a dress to our Sunday morning assemblies because that is what I have done all my life.  I see nothing wrong with dressing up—it’s one of the few chances I get.  It does not mean I don’t love the Lord the rest of the week, any more than dressing up for an anniversary dinner means I don’t love my husband the rest of the year.

            Why is it wrong to judge a person who does not dress up, but perfectly fine to judge a person who does? 

            That is just a small example of a big problem we all have—one way or the other we often do exactly the same things we criticize others for doing.  We may be just as judgmental, just as tactless, just as inconsiderate as others.  We have just wrapped ourselves in such an aura of self-righteousness that we cannot see it in ourselves.  Our vision has been clouded by what we want to see, not what is really there.

            I have developed another eye problem—a growth that is fogging up the vision I still have, and which will gradually worsen unless it is removed.  Unfortunately, because of all the other conditions, the surgery to remove the growth is as dangerous to my vision as allowing the growth to continue on. 

            But there is no argument here: it is far more dangerous to our souls to allow that spiritual haze to grow unabated than to remove it.  Self-righteousness breeds true, and becomes more and more difficult to see in ourselves as the years go on. 

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye, Matt 7:1-5.

Dene Ward

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I was reading the Q and A column in a cooking magazine based in Boston.  “You’re kidding,” I spoke aloud when a reader asked how to dispose of bacon grease without clogging her sink.  Dispose of bacon grease?  Keith was equally appalled, but on a whim he asked a friend, who is originally from New England, what he did with his bacon grease.

            “Why?’ he asked with a suspicious look on his face.  “What’s it good for?”

            What’s it good for?  I guess this is one of those cultural things.  Bacon grease to a Northerner must mean “garbage.”  Bacon grease to a Southerner means “gold.”

            My mother kept a coffee can of it in her refrigerator.  I do the same.  My grandmothers both kept a tin of it on their stoves.  They used it every day, just as their mothers had.  In the South bacon grease is the fat of choice.  In the old days only better-off farmers had cows and butter.  The poorer families had a pig, and they used every square inch of that animal.  Even the bones were put into a pot of beans and many times the few flecks of meat that fell off of them into the pot were all the meat they had for a week.  In a time when people needed fat in their diets (imagine that!), the lard was used as shortening in everything from biscuits to pie crust.  And the grease?  A big spoonful for seasoning every pot of peas, beans, and greens, more to fry okra, potatoes, and squash in, a few spoonfuls stirred into a pan of cornbread batter, and sometimes it was spread on bread in place of butter.

            I use it to shorten cornbread, flavor vegetables, and even to pop popcorn.  Forget that microwave stuff.  If you have never popped real popcorn in bacon grease, you haven’t lived.  I am more health-conscious than my predecessors—in fact, we don’t even eat that much bacon any more.  But when we do, I save the drippings, scraping every drop from the pan, and while most of the time I use a mere teaspoon of olive oil to sauté my squash from the summer garden, once a year we get it with dollop of bacon grease.  Any artery can stand once a year, right?

            As I said, it’s a cultural thing.  Things that are precious to Southerners may not be so to Northerners, and vice versa.  Don’t you think the same should be true with Christians?  What’s garbage to the world should be gold to Christians.

            One thing that comes to mind is the Word of God.  In a day when it is labeled a book of myths, when it is belittled and its integrity challenged, that Word should be precious to God’s people.  David wrote a psalm in which at least seven times he speaks of loving God’s word, Psalm 119.

            We often speak of “loving God” or “loving Jesus,” but you cannot do either without a love of the Word, a love shown in obedience.  Whoever does not love me does not keep my words, and the words that you hear are not mine, but the Father’s who sent me, John 14:24.  Jesus even defined family, the people you love more than anyone or anything else, as “those who hear my word and do it,” Luke 8:21.  Surely the ultimate love was shown by the martyrs depicted in Rev 6:9 who were slain “for the Word of God.”

            Do we love God’s Word that much?  Then why isn’t it in our hands several times a day?  Why aren’t we reading more than a quota chapter a day?  Why can’t we cite more than one or two proof-texts, memorized only to show our neighbors they are wrong? 

            Bacon grease may be gold to a Southern cook, but it is hardly in the same category.  Yet I think I may have heard Christians arguing more about when to use bacon grease than when to read the Bible.  Maybe we are showing the effects of a culture other than a Christian’s.

Whoever has my commandments and keeps them, he it is who loves me. And he who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and manifest myself to him." John 14:21

Dene Ward

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            I had just checked the day before.  How could this be?  The herbed rice pilaf was simmering on the stove, and I had run out to the herb garden to cut some parsley to add just before serving.  Five healthy Italian flat leaf parsley plants were stripped bare.  I leaned to look closer and there they were--four black and green striped parsley worms.  They may well have been there the day before, hidden by the bushy leaves, and their green color, the same shade as the parsley stems, but to me it was as if they had eaten them all overnight.

            Luckily, the butter, onions, garlic, chicken broth, thyme and toasted almonds gave the pilaf a little flavor at least, and the rest of the meal turned out fine.  Enough sauce covered the cider-braised pork chops so that anyone desiring to could spoon it over the rice as well.  But it was still missing those pretty flecks of green and the freshness that a good-sized handful of fresh parsley added at the last minute brings.  If only I had looked a little closer the day before, even I might have seen those little stinkers. 

            It can happen to us as easily as to parsley plants.  False teachers are charming, logical, and usually attractive people.  They will appeal to your sense of justice, common sense, compassion, ego, even your pocketbook, whatever it takes to get your attention and draw you in.  Many of them sincerely believe what they teach, having been previously deceived by yet another false teacher.  Those are especially difficult to ignore—what seems like an honest and sincere person cannot be the evil wolf Jesus warns us about, can he?  And no marvel; for even Satan fashions himself into an angel of light. It is no great thing therefore if his ministers also fashion themselves as ministers of righteousness… 2 Cor 11:14,15.

            So whose fault is it if we are taken in by these people?  God makes it clear in both the Old and New Testaments that we are responsible for our own souls. 

            A wonderful and a horrible thing has come to pass in the land.  The prophets prophesy falsely and the priests bear rule by their means, and my people love to have it so…Jer 5:30,31. 

            For it is a rebellious people, lying children, children that will not hear the law of the Jehovah, that say to the Seers, see not, and to the Prophets, prophesy not right things, but speak to us smooth things…Isa 30:9,10.

            For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but, having itching ears, will heap to themselves teachers after their own lusts, and will turn away their ears from the truth and turn aside unto fables, 2 Tim 4:3,4.

            Scary, isn’t it?  Don’t think it cannot happen to you and, like my parsley plants, happen quickly.  Before the apostles were dead, the first “-ism” was already upon the church.  They were fighting the Judaizing brethren, the Gnostics, the Nicolaitans, and others we probably will never know about. 

            I am astonished that you are so quickly deserting him who called you in the grace of Christ and are turning to a different gospel, not that there is another one, but there are some who trouble you and want to distort the gospel of Christ, Paul told the Galatians in 1:6,7, not twenty years after founding the churches in that area.  How about us two thousand years removed?  If there was ever a time for vigilance, for going back to the basics, for attempting to restore the New Testament church as God intended it to be, it is now.  So many have strayed so far.

            When your elders and preachers seem harsh and intolerant toward a teacher or group, or even toward you, give them a break.  Your souls are in their hands.  They are seeing things that you, caught up in your emotions and prejudices, might not.  Like parents protecting a child from the predators out there in the world, they can see the danger.  Instead of adolescently complaining, “You’re mean.  You don’t understand,” pay attention.  Ultimately, if you choose not to listen to them, the parsley worms will eat up your souls, leaving nothing but useless stems, and God will hold you accountable.

Beware of false prophets who come to you in sheep’s clothing, but inwardly are ravenous wolves.  You will recognize them by their fruits...Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world, Matt 7:15,16; 1 John 4:1.

Dene Ward

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            Do people even know what Mason jars are any more?  My favorite store has stopped carrying them, and when I finally found them at the local discount store, I could have bought out their entire stock without overdrawing my bank account.

            I have a large supply of those clear sturdy jars.  Every year I stuff them with pickles, jams, tomatoes, and salsa, place them in a canner and subject them to more heat and pressure than a football coach in the midst of a losing season.  Every year they seal and protect as they sit on my shelves for the next few months, then are emptied, washed, and placed back in the shed until I need them again.

            This year three or four of them broke.  I lifted the lid off the canner, and as I peered into the steam, there they sat, emptied of liquid but looking intact until I tried to lift them out and the bottom stayed in the water, while the sides and lid hung from the canning ring.  The contents, now limp and useless, toppled into the canning water.  I could hardly complain.  These jars have served me well for years.  Now that we are only two and I don’t need as much, I have plenty of others to take their places on the shelves.

            Those broken jars have made canning especially exciting this past year.  I never know what I will find when I lift the lids off my two canners.  They have also made me think about the way God uses the image of jars in the Bible.  As with many other things, He presents them in two ways, one I want and the other I don’t.

            He tells Isaiah in chapter 30:12-14, Wherefore thus says the Holy One of Israel, Because you despise this word, and trust in oppression and perverseness, and rely thereon; therefore this iniquity shall be to you as a breach ready to fall, swelling out in a high wall, whose breaking comes suddenly in an instant.  And he shall break it as a potter's vessel is broken, breaking it in pieces without sparing; so that there shall not be found among the pieces thereof a shard wherewith to take fire from the hearth, or to dip up water out of the cistern.  God’s promise of destruction for his rebellious people is frightening, and we must be careful for it does not need to be a national destruction.  He can do the same thing to rebellious individuals.

            But God also holds out a reward for faithful service that is almost too amazing to believe. And he who overcomes, and he who keeps my works unto the end, to him will I give authority over the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron, as the vessels of the potter are broken to shivers; as I also have received of my Father:  and I will give him the morning star. He who has ears, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. Rev 2:26-29.

            I do believe in that reward, and so should you.  God has shown us that He will fulfill His promises.  That promise in Isaiah is historically verifiable down to the last detail.  This one would be too, if history were to continue after it occurs.  It won’t, but we will.

 

Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some unto honor, and some unto dishonor.  If a man therefore purge himself from these, he shall be a vessel unto honor, sanctified, meet for the master's use, prepared unto every good work, 2 Tim 2:20-21.

Dene Ward

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Surely I am not the only one who has done this.

            You find out that you have company coming in about an hour and the house is a wreck.  You were tired, so you left the coffee and dessert dishes in the sink instead of whipping up another sink full of suds at 10 pm the night before, and have only added to them with the breakfast dishes.  You did the laundry yesterday, but there were so many errands to run, they are sitting in the basket or hanging from hangers on every doorknob available so the wrinkles will fall out.  The garden is coming in so you have left the weekly tub scrubbing, vacuuming, and dusting until some day soon when you are no longer standing in a hot, steamy kitchen for ten hours a day, and the canning supplies litter the kitchen counters, floors, and even the family room sofa.  And did anyone make his bed this morning?  If they are all male, probably not!

            So what do you do?  I usually grab another laundry basket and rush through the house throwing everything that is out of place in it, then put it on the guest room bed and shut the door.  Spray some bleach solution (that I always have mixed and ready to use) into the showers, as much for the clean smell as anything else, and pull the shower curtains shut.  Run a cloth over everything big and obvious (like the grand piano in the living room), and hope no one over six feet tall stands by the top shelves and the refrigerator.  Light every good smelling candle in the house and hope that’s enough to cover any other “not quite clean” house smell. Run a sink full of soapy water and at least pile everything into it.  With canning jars sitting around cooling, it will look like you’ve been hard at work (and you really have), and are in the midst of cleaning it up.  At least you will get points for that! 

             I have probably fooled a lot of people that way, or else they were just polite.  But when it comes to spiritual house cleaning, just getting the outside isn’t enough.  Oh, we might fool some people who don’t really know us very well, but Jesus says By their fruits you shall know them, Matt 7:16, so eventually we will give ourselves away if our righteousness is only cosmetic.  Just imagine how much God knows--everything!  The eyes of Jehovah are in every place, keeping watch upon the evil and the good, Prov 15:3.

            Cleaning the outside is not good enough for Jehovah.  It only counts when we clean up our hearts.  Then, funny thing, the outside takes care of itself.

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you clean the outside of the cup and of the platter, but within are full of extortion and excess.  You blind Pharisees, first clean the inside of the cup and of the platter, that the outside may become clean also.  Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you are like whitewashed sepulchers, which outwardly appear beautiful, but inwardly are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.  Even so you also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but inwardly are full of hypocrisy and iniquity, Matt 23:25-28.

Dene Ward

For hints, help, and instructions on using this blog, click on the FAQ/Tutorial page on the left sidebar.)

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            Every Sunday afternoon I go through those colorful inserts in the Sunday paper and cut out coupons.  We don’t use much processed food beyond condiments and cereals, so I seldom clip the “hundreds of dollars worth” they brag about, but it’s always enough to pay for the paper and pull my shopping trip under budget, sometimes as much as 20%, so it’s well worth the effort.

            I regularly shake my head at a lot of the products I see these days.  Convenience foods have turned us into helpless klutzes in the kitchen.  Even at out of season prices I can buy a large fresh bell pepper and chop it myself into well more than a cupful for about $1, OR I can buy a measly half cup already chopped for $3 and save myself a whopping 2 minutes of chopping time at six times the cost.  Wow, she muttered, unimpressed.

            Then there is the “fun factor.”  For some reason we always need to be entertained.  As I flipped through those coupons last week, I came across a full page ad for a new cereal—“Poppin’ Pebbles,” which, I am told, offer “big berry flavor with a fantastic fizz.”  Evidently these out-fun the snap, crackle, pop of the old Rice Krispies I grew up with, judging by the amazed look on the child model’s face, her hands splayed over her cheeks in wonderment.  Now, I guess, our meals must entertain us before they are worthy to be eaten.

            Don’t think for a minute that this doesn’t reflect our spiritual attitudes.  “I can hardly listen to that man,” a sister told me once of a brother’s teaching ability.  The brother in question had one of the finest Bible minds I ever heard and regularly took a passage I thought I knew inside out and showed me something new in it, usually far deeper than its standard interpretation, one that kept me thinking for days afterward.  So what was the problem?  He didn’t tell jokes, he didn’t share cute stories or warm, fuzzy poetry.  He just talked and you had to do your part and listen.

            Do you think they didn’t have those problems in the first century?  Pagan religion was exciting.  The fire, the spectacle, the pounding rhythms, the garish costumes, not to mention the appeal to sensuality, made it far more appealing to the masses than a quiet service of reverent, joyful a capella singing, prayers, and a simple supper memorializing a sacrifice.

            Some of those long ago brethren must have tried to bring in the fun factor.  When it came to spiritual gifts, they weren’t satisfied unless they could have the flashy ones.  The whole discussion in 1 Corinthians 12 begins with a group who thinks that their gift is the best because of that.  They have to be reminded that they all receive those gifts from the same source “as the Spirit wills” not as they will—it has nothing to do with one being better, or more necessary, than the other, or one brother being more important.

            They wanted to jazz up their services every chance they got, even speaking in tongues when an interpreter was not present.  Paul had to tell them to stop, to “be silent.”  It is not about entertainment and glory, he said, it’s about edification (1 Cor 14:26). 

            What did Paul call these people who wanted flash and show, who wanted entertainment?  In verse 14:20 he says that such behavior is childish.  In 3:1 he calls them carnal and equates that with spiritual immaturity.  Did you notice that breakfast cereal ad I mentioned is directed squarely at children?  It is assumed that when you grow up you don’t need such motivation to do what’s good for you, like eat your whole grains, and God assumes that as spiritual adults we will understand the importance of spiritual things. 

            And what about the friends we try to reach?  Do we pander to their baser instincts and expect to create an appreciation for intense Bible study, an ability to stand up to temptation, and a joyful acceptance of persecution?  When it’s no longer fun all the time, when it’s hard work and sacrifice, will they quit?

            People who want to be entertained are the same ones who want a physical kingdom here on this earth instead of the spiritual one that “is within you,” that is “not of this world.”  They are the ones who want a comedian for a preacher instead of a man of God who will teach the Word of God plainly and simply.  They want a singing group they can tap their toes to instead of songs they can sing from the heart with others who may be just as tone-deaf as they are.  Read the context.  “Singing with the spirit” is not about clapping your hands and stomping your feet to the rhythm.  It’s about teaching and growing spiritually.

            Being a Christian is always joyful, but when I believe that joy is always predicated on entertainment, I am no better than Herod who wanted Jesus to entertain him just hours before his crucifixion.  I am no better than the former pagans who tried to bring flashy rituals into the spiritual body of Christ.  I am no better than a child who needs coddling in order to behave himself. 

            Imagine what might have happened if Jesus had needed to be entertained in order to save us.

For it is a rebellious people, lying children, children that will not hear the law of Jehovah; that say to the seers, See not; and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits…And for this cause God sends them a working of error, that they should believe a lie: that they all might be judged who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness.  Isa 30:10,11; 2 Thes 2:11,12.

Dene Ward

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            I looked in the pantry the other day for a box of pasta.  Know what I found?  Spaghetti, penne rigate, orzo, linguini, lasagna, shells, and elbow macaroni.  I stood there at least five minutes trying to figure out which one I wanted to use.  Then I needed vinegar.  There was apple cider vinegar, white vinegar, balsamic vinegar, rice vinegar, white wine vinegar, red wine vinegar, and homemade rosemary vinegar.  That took even longer. 

            I remember the old days when I had spaghetti and macaroni, apple cider vinegar and all purpose white.  I didn’t have enough money in the grocery budget to play around with anything else.  We still aren’t rich, but we are certainly better off than thirty years ago, and being better off has cost me a lot of time lately, trying to figure out what I want to use when instead of just grabbing the only thing available and throwing it in the pot.

           That made me wonder what this economy and this culture is costing the Lord’s body.  Things may be changing, but we can still worship without fear.  So what do we do?  Since we don’t face actual physical persecution, we find silly things to fight about among ourselves.  Since we have plenty in the coffers due to our more affluent membership, we argue about what to do with it, and often wind up “burying our money” in bank accounts. 

            In the very old days, the brethren were too busy fighting pagan culture and hostile government to fight among themselves.  In the more recent old days, money was hard to come by for everyone so when they got a little they were quick to share it.  I’ve seen that in secular organizations.  I was involved with a local music teacher’s group that regularly emptied its bank account giving to needy students for lessons and school music programs for supplies.  Then we put together a community cookbook, made $1000 in one month and had to practically pry anything past several members who, once they had gotten a taste of financial security, didn’t want to give it up.

            We often say, “Be careful what you wish for.”  When we can read in the scriptures of churches so poor they didn’t have enough themselves but still begged to be a part of the giving, I think I understand why wealth is such a dangerous thing.  When things are so easy for us that we look for petty things to fight about, Satan is using that wealth, that security, that life of ease to tear us apart and make us ineffective at the mission God has set before us. 

            Maybe that’s why persecution is looked at favorably in so many passages.  Maybe that’s why wealth in the New Testament is never pictured as anything but dangerous. 

            I just looked in my pantry again.  I have all-purpose flour, cake flour, bread flour, and whole wheat flour.  Despite my protestations, I am too wealthy. 

            It’s time to go fix dinner.  I don’t know whether to use the basmati rice, the brown rice, or the Arborio rice.  Do you know what to do with the blessings you have?

We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints-- and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us. 2 Corinthians 8:1-5

Dene Ward

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            We just spent a week with the grandkids.  When it comes to food, they are just like mine were at that age.  They prefer their oranges out of a can, their macaroni and cheese out of the blue box, their chicken cut into processed squares, and their potatoes long and fried.  Forget the complex and strong flavors of Parmagiana Reggiano, feta, and blue—they want American cheese, thank you.  And all their sauces must be sweet—about half corn syrup.  True, these two enjoy olives—but they need to be canned and black.  A strong, briny kalamata is summarily thrown across the table.

            Children have immature palates.  For the most part strong flavors are out and bland ones are in.  Sugar, salt and fat make up their favorite seasonings.  And it must be easy to eat.  When you can barely hold a spoon and get the food on it and into your mouth, you prefer things that are solid without being hard and which fit the hand.  We would never give a child a fresh artichoke to eat, with instructions like “Peel off the leaf, dip it into lemon juice and melted butter, put it between your teeth and pull it out of your mouth, scraping the good part off as you pull, then discard the leaf.” 

            One day they will understand the pleasure of different tastes and textures.  Their palates will become educated to appreciate different foods and even different cuisines.  Even the pickiest of childhood eaters usually learn as adults to eat new things, if for no other reason than to be polite or keep harmony in the home.  When a woman spends hours a day cooking, she wants more than a grunt and food being shoved around the plate in an attempt to disguise the fact that very little of it was eaten. 

            But sometimes people become set in their ways.  They decide they don’t like something, even if they have never tried it.  They won’t entertain the possibility that their palates have changed, and so won’t keep trying things as they become older.  When I was a child I hated every kind of cheese, raw onions, and anything that contained a cooked tomato.  Now I eat them all.  Imagine if I had never found that out.  No pizza!

            What about your spiritual nourishment?  Are you still slurping down canned oranges and packaged mac and cheese?  Do you still think instant mashed potatoes are as good as real ones, and Log Cabin as good as real maple syrup?  What if the Bible class teacher taught a book you had never studied before?  Would you learn with relish or complain because you actually had to read it instead of relying on your old canned knowledge?  What if he showed you a different interpretation of a passage than you usually hear?  Would you chew on it a little and really consider it, or just dismiss it out of hand because it wasn’t what you already thought you knew?

            Keith and I have both experienced complaints from people because our classes were “too deep” or “too hard” or “took too much study time.”  Really?  It’s one thing to have an immature palate because you are still a babe.  It’s another to have one because you haven’t grown up in twenty, thirty, forty years of claiming discipleship. 

            The spiritual palate can tell tales on our spiritual maturity in every other area.  Jesus expected his disciples to mature in just a few short years.  “Have I been with you so long and you still do not know me?” he asked Philip (John 14:9).  If we don’t know his word, we don’t know him.  If we don’t know him, we have no clue how to behave as Christians.

            An educated palate for spiritual food is far more important than whether you have learned to like liver yet.  Become an adventurous spiritual eater.  You will find this paradox: though you become hungrier for more, you are always satisfied with your meal.

For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil. Hebrews 5:12-14.

Dene Ward