I am sure you have heard this little story.  I first heard it as a teenager, a long time ago. 
            A father gave his little boy a dime and a nickel.  (Like I said, an OLD story.)  "You keep one and give the other to the Lord," were his directions.
            The little boy went to church that day and when the collection plate came around, proudly put in the nickel.  The father was disappointed, but since he had given the little guy the choice, he would not scold him.  He simply asked, "Why did you choose the nickel?"
            "Well, daddy, I know that God loves a cheerful giver, and I can be a whole lot more cheerful by giving the nickel and keeping the dime."
            We may laugh at a child's reasoning, but I have seen adults come close to the same myself.  Haven't you ever heard someone say, "I know this isn't what God said to do, but my heart is right?"
            Let's be plain about this.  You cannot deliberately disobey God and still have a good heart.  It is impossible.  It's one thing to be in ignorance; it's another to know better and do otherwise.
            What did the Lord tell the church at Thyatira?  I will strike her children dead. And all the churches will know that I am he who searches mind and heart, and I will give to each of you according to your works (Rev 2:23).  God searches your heart and then requites according to your works, because ultimately, your deeds show the true state of your heart.  ​The good person out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks (Luke 6:45).  A willfully disobedient person simply cannot produce good; that disobedience comes from an evil heart no matter what he claims.
            Every relationship produces some sort of emotion.  A good relationship will produce good emotions—love, compassion, concern, a desire to please-- and a bad one will produce bad ones—anger, envy, bitterness, hatred.  Our relationship with God should produce good emotions, but one should always be careful of being ruled by those emotions.  The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it? ​I the LORD search the heart and test the mind, to give every man according to his ways, according to the fruit of his deeds (Jer 17:9-10).  Did you catch that?  Here is the process:  He will search the heart, then test the mind, then give according to his deeds. 
"God won't mind if I…" is a classic example of thinking that willful disobedience can come from a good heart.  But Paul told the Romans that we are expected to "obey from the heart," not disobey, Rom 6:17.
            The immaturity of the little boy in that old story above is almost precious.  Believe me, God expects far more from adults who claim to love him with all their heart.
 
Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words. And the word that you hear is not mine but the Father's who sent me (John 14:23-24).
 
Dene Ward

Have you ever said as you left the meetinghouse on Sunday morning, “I didn’t get much out of the worship today?”
            Just examine that statement for a moment.  We are there for our group worship, the worship we are commanded to do when we are “gathered together.”  Who is it that we are worshipping?  I don’t think it’s me, and I don’t think it’s you.  When it comes to the worship aspect, I think it matters what God thinks of it, not us. 
            We sit in an auditorium with a raised platform in front of us.  Several different men take turns standing before us to lead us in various aspects of our worship to God.  Sometimes that gives us the mistaken idea that we are the audience.  No, we are the performers.  God is the audience, and if He “doesn’t get much out of our worship,” it’s our fault, not His, nor that of the men who try so hard to lead us, and seldom get anything but complaints for their efforts. 
            What would you think of a performer who gave a lackadaisical performance, who acted like he couldn’t care less that someone was watching him?  If I paid good money for a ticket, I would want my money back.  I wonder if that’s what God thinks as we “worship” by barely mumbling through our songs, daydreaming during prayers, and making faces at the babies in front of us during the sermons.  I wonder if He would like to have back what it cost Him for us to be able to come before Him and worship Him.  You see, He is watching our performance; He is the audience.  It doesn’t really matter if I don’t like the songs chosen, if I think the prayer is too long, if I think the sermon is boring.  What matters is, did I worship God with all my heart in spite of those things?  That’s what this Audience grades us on.  I don’t want Him to ask for a refund.
            So this Sunday as I leave the meetinghouse I should ask myself this, “How well did I worship my God this morning?”  Whether or not this is all there is to my worship is another matter entirely, but this question certainly makes a good start on answering that one too, don’t you think?
 
Oh Jehovah, truly I am your servant;
I am your servant, the son of your handmaid.
You have loosed my bonds.
I will offer to you the sacrifices of thanksgiving,
And will call upon the name of Jehovah.
I will pay my vows unto Jehovah,
Even in the presence of all his people.
In the courts of Jehovah’s house,
In the midst of you, O Jerusalem,
Praise Jehovah.
Psalm 116:16-19
 
Dene Ward

As morning dawned, the angels urged Lot, saying, “Up! Take your wife and your two daughters who are here, lest you be swept away in the punishment of the city.” But he lingered. So the men seized him and his wife and his two daughters by the hand, the LORD being merciful to him, and they brought him out and set him outside the city. Gen 19:15-16
 
            Here the Lord offers salvation to Lot who, by what we have previously seen, truly believes in the coming destruction and truly hates the sin in Sodom.  But what does he do?  “He lingers…”  And finally, and only because God is merciful and that probably because of Abraham (Gen 19:29), the angels grabbed them all by the hands and pulled them out of the city. 

            How many times do we linger where we have no business being, even after we know we should be gone?  Sin has a pull of its own, and if God were not pulling in the opposite direction, many of us would be gone without a fight.

            But we have talked much about sin in this short series.  How about things that are not necessarily sins?  How about those resolutions we make, not just at the New Year’s dawn, but when suddenly we realize we are not what we should be?  When a lesson suddenly slaps us in the face and we recognize our failures.  How many times have I heard things like, “I am going to start studying more.  In fact, I am going to come to your classes.”  But when reality hits, when they find out it takes work and commitment and maybe canceling a few other things that are a lot more fun, suddenly it is not a priority.

            Most of the members of my classes are older women.  Don’t tell me, “Well, they have the time.”  When we started this class almost thirty years ago, they were the young women with families, and some had jobs too.  Yet they had their priorities in order.  It is as simple, and as damning, as that.

            So you need to make a change of some kind, be it more study, more prayer, more service, or some other neglected virtue.  Then make it, but recognize from the get-go that you will have to leave some things behind in order to make the time.  Don’t “linger” in Sodom.  It will only make the transition more difficult. Jump in with both feet, whatever the change you want to make, and don’t look back.  Before long you will love the new you.
 
When I think on my ways, I turn my feet to your testimonies; I hasten and do not delay to keep your commandments. Ps 119:59-60
 
Dene Ward

The beginning of a three part series that will continue tomorrow and Wednesday.

What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun. Eccl 1:9
 
I was reading through Genesis 19 preparing for a class on Lot’s wife and daughters when suddenly the verse above sprang to mind.  Over and over I saw things I have seen all my life and the thought came unbidden, “We are living in Sodom.” 

No, I was not thinking about modern issues.  None of the things that I noticed in the text that afternoon had anything to do with that, at least not specifically.  In fact, the things I noticed had been happening through my entire life, even as far back as the 1960s when everyone thinks we were still innocent and relatively godly.  Let’s see if you see what I did.
 
Lot went out to the men at the entrance, shut the door after him, and said, “I beg you, my brothers, do not act so wickedly…But they said, “Stand back!” And they said, “This fellow came to sojourn, and he has become the judge!” Gen 19:6-9
 
Whenever any moral issue comes up, if you express any sort of disapproval--even if all you do is refuse to participate—suddenly you are accused of “judging.”  Never mind that is exactly what is done to you by this accusation.  That does not matter.  It happened all those thousands of years ago and it happens now.  People have not changed.  If you behave differently than others, you are “judging.”  No one can tolerate being seen as less than righteous, even when righteousness is the last thing on their minds.

Since it is such a universal, and timeless, reaction, maybe we should ask ourselves this:  Has anyone accused me of being judgmental lately?  If not, why not?  Is it just that I only associate with Christians, with good moral friends and neighbors?  Or is it that I have not expressed any disapproval lately, nor refused to participate, whether it be in gossip, slander, drinking, pornography, foul language, immodest dress, or any other acts a Christian needs to abhor? 

Paul said:  and have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather even reprove them; Eph 5:11.  We do a whole lot better with the first half of that command than the last.  I think it is because we do not want even the mild persecution that comes along with it.  We want to be liked—by the world.  We don’t want to be accused of “judging.”

Even “righteous Lot” was accused of judging.  Peter says he “was greatly distressed by the conduct of the wicked” (2 Pet 2:7).  Given the rest of his life, do we really want to be viewed as less righteous than he?
 
Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, maliciousness; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, malignity; whisperers, backbiters, hateful to God, insolent, haughty, boastful, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents, without understanding, covenant-breakers, without natural affection, unmerciful: who, knowing the ordinance of God, that they that practice such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but also consent with them that practice them. Rom 1:29-32
 
Dene Ward

How do you explain
How do you describe
A love that goes from East to West
And runs as deep as it is wide?
You know all our hopes
Lord, You know all our fears
And words cannot express the love we feel
But we long for You to hear.

Chorus:
So listen to our hearts
Hear our spirits sing
A song of praise that flows
For those You have redeemed
And we use the words we know
To tell you what an awesome God You are
But when words are not enough
To tell You of our love
Just listen to our hearts.

If words could fall like rain
From these lips of mine
And if I had a thousand years
I would still run out of time.
So if You listen to my heart
Every beat will say
Thank you for the Life
Thank you for the Truth
Thank you for the Way.

(Chorus)
           
            It's a relatively new hymn, as you can tell by all the syncopation, which no ordinary church member sings correctly, and by a three note repetitive "melody" in the verse section, supplemented only by a low sol as an occasional trampoline.  (Can't anyone write an actual melody anymore?)  Still, especially with the added chorus, it's catchy and you find yourself humming it later in the week.  But these are not my main issues with the song.
            "Listen to Our Hearts," the lyrics ask of God, and my mind immediately goes to Romans 8 where we are promised that even when we don't know what to pray for, we have an advocate and intermediary who will take the thoughts behind our meager words and deliver them to the Father.  But wait!  That is not what this song is about.  Look at the chorus again.
            "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ listen to our hearts."  If it means anything, it means that the best way we can express our love to God is to have a good heart.  Really?
            John tells us in his first epistle, Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth (1John 3:18); and For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome (1John 5:3).  He adds in his second epistle, And this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment, just as you have heard from the beginning, so that you should walk in it (2John 1:6).  And where did John ever get such a notion?  ​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).
            I imagine that most of the people reading this will instantly say, "Well, of course."  But there are quite a few out there for whom this is a revelation.  In the so-called Christian world, a good heart is supposed to be the cure for everything, including outright sin.  When we sing this song in our services and some of those people are sitting there next to you, perhaps friends and neighbors you invited, you just might be encouraging them in this false doctrine.  I suppose that if they are people you personally have brought to services you could take them aside afterward and say, "About that song…" and tell them you didn't really mean it that way.  But their first question might be embarrassing.  "You mean you sing things you don't mean?"
            I doubt that anything I say here will change the popularity of this song.  In fact, if we changed the words to something more scriptural, like, "When words are not enough/ to tell you of our love/ watch how we obey," or "Wa-atch how we walk," that would be its death knell.  Who would want to sing something so emotionally unsatisfying?  But maybe the next time it is led in your group you will remember that Jesus told us exactly how to show our love for both him and the Father:  Walk like he walked.  Of course we should obey from the heart, as Paul says in Rom 6:17, and our life of obedience should be sincere, but that is a far cry from pandering to modern emotionalism. 
 
If you love me, you will keep my commandments  (John 14:15).
 
Dene Ward

It had already been a frustrating day.  Our Google Map directions had brought us straight to the town we were visiting, but once we hit the city limits, those directions because increasingly vague.  The street we were to follow suddenly ended and we didn't know which way to turn to find our hotel.
            So we headed down the busy road in the direction that seemed right.  The street changed its name at least three times.  No hotel.  We stopped at a gas station, found a man sitting in his car who was willing to help.  He didn't know the hotel but knew where the street was—or so he thought.  Ten minutes later we pulled into a different hotel and they gave us good directions to their competitor.  Turns out the hotel was off the main drag behind two restaurants on a street with no road sign.  You wonder how they stay in business.
            So then it was time for dinner.  We have a favorite restaurant in that town, but it had been many years and things looked very different.  The desk clerk gladly looked it up and handed us directions.  And once again the street we were looking for was not there.  We wound up at exactly the same gas station.  This time we went inside and none of the workers there knew either the restaurant (it has been there for 50 years!) or the street. Finally, as we walked dejectedly out the door, a young man with a Smart Phone chased us down and looked it up for us.  We weren't far away and the directions were simple.
            Then it was time to return to the hotel.  Based upon our memory of the man's phone map, the restaurant road ran parallel to the one the gas station was on and should have led us right back to the hotel road, coming out even closer to the hotel.  But that road curved every which way and was full of forks and we came out somewhere entirely different—which we did not realize at first because now it was too dark to read straight signs and had begun to rain.  By the time we figured out our error, we were so far out, no one could direct us.  "What road?  Never heard of it."
            Finally someone had heard of it—the fourth one we asked, and we did make it back.  What should have been a ten minute drive had taken over an hour, and we had gone through the gamut of emotions—from frustration to aggravation to desperation.  Fear and hopelessness were just the corner, kept at bay by my stubborn refusal to become a drama queen, whining and blubbering my way into senseless hysteria.
            But it made both of us stop and think about those who are really lost.  What is it like to be out there looking for direction and getting no help at all?  I'm afraid my view of that town will forever more be that none of the roads are straight, they all change names confusingly, and none of its populace has any idea where they themselves are either.
            We all need to be like that young man with the Smart Phone, not only willing to help when asked, but going to the trouble of chasing down someone in obvious need.   There are lost souls out there, people.  Frustrated people, fearful people, desperate people who need our help.  A lot of Christians are so wrapped up in themselves, in their own earthly destinations and goals, that they don't see those who are wandering around, hopelessly lost.  And quite a few of them don't even know where they are either.
            Pay attention today.  Make sure you know where you are first and then be on the lookout for others.
 
I am under obligation both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish. So I am eager to preach the gospel to you… (Rom 1:14-15)
 
Dene Ward        

My mother came from a family of long-lived women.  Her grandmother was well into her 80s when she passed away, and her own mother was 97.  When Mama reached 87 with no signs of stopping, we decided that, due to our own health problems, we needed to move her closer than two hours away so we could care for her as we ought.  But even then, there were issues.  Our home is way out in the country, nearly an hour from her doctors and the hospital.  We have steps she could no longer negotiate and her walker would not even fit through our doors.  Then there is the issue of independence; she wanted to live on her own for as long as she possibly could, and we wanted to honor that wish.
            At first she bought her own little house in the city and managed that for a year and a half.  Then we moved her up a step to an independent living facility.  They provided meals and housekeeping for a nice little apartment as long as she could get back and forth to the dining room and take care of all her other needs.  And ultimately, we had to go the assisted living route.  Gainesville has a couple of very nice ones and she was very happy there until her death last year at the age of 91.
            One thing I noticed, and it was not just those last few years.  No matter where she lived, she managed to find the friendless, the outcasts, the ones who were "different" in some way that meant everyone else ignored or even shunned them, and she befriended them.  (Even in churches, mind you.)  She looked after them.  She defended them.  She made sure they had someone to sit by at meals, talk to during the day, and share their troubles with.  She could tell me more details about the lives of more people than I thought she even knew within two weeks of moving somewhere, and because we were now able to see her three or four times a week, this really became noticeable.
            My mother was a good woman, generous with her time and her talents, given to hospitality, always feeding visitors, college students, and friends.  I was never embarrassed to ask someone from church to spend Sunday afternoon with me, or even a whole weekend.  I knew the food would be plenteous and delicious, and the welcome warm.  If someone needed a home for a wedding or baby shower, she offered, even making and decorating the cake which was always elaborate and creative.  She sewed for people, sometimes just mending, but other times the whole outfit.  Whenever she went shopping, if something caught her eye, it was seldom for herself.  It was always that person or this person "would love that," and she picked it up, usually for no reason at all except she saw it and thought of them.  But once I began to really notice this habit of hers to gravitate to the social misfits, I thought to myself, "This is what it really means to be Christlike."
            What did Isaiah say about the Messiah?   The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; ​to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion— to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he may be glorified. (Isa 61:1-3)
            And whom did Jesus seek out?  Not the wealthy, not the powerful, not the popular, not the "in-crowd," but a bunch of poor, "unlearned" fishermen, the hated publicans, the sinners who lived on the edge of a society that was happy to use and then discard them, a Samaritan woman who herself was an outcast among outcasts, those with demons, those with illnesses which were considered signs of sin.  He gave them a champion who saw them and their pain rather than leaders who considered them beneath their notice.  He fulfilled his mission "...to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, " (Luke 4:18) and "A bruised reed shall he not break, and smoking flax shall he not quench, till he send forth judgment unto victory. " (Matt 12:20).
            Today, examine your heart.  Who do you gravitate toward?  Who do you run to and why?  Our Lord actively looked for the outsiders just as we should search for the ones who come in among us and leave quietly because they are so sure no one even cares if they are there at all.  No one should come in among the people of God and feel like that.  What will you do about it today?
 
And Jesus perceiving it withdrew from thence: and many followed him; and he healed them all, and charged them that they should not make him known: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken through Isaiah the prophet, saying, Behold, my servant whom I have chosen; My beloved in whom my soul is well pleased: I will put my Spirit upon him, And he shall declare judgment to the Gentiles. He shall not strive, nor cry aloud; Neither shall any one hear his voice in the streets. A bruised reed shall he not break, And smoking flax shall he not quench, Till he send forth judgment unto victory. And in his name shall the Gentiles hope  (Matt 12:15-21).
 
Dene Ward
           

The other morning I was outside feeding the dogs when I got a bit of a shock.  Wood smoke from the chimney swirled around in the cold north breeze, rustling the one or two brown leaves still hanging on the sycamore.  My breath billowed around me even thicker than the smoke and my hands ached from the cold.  The frost on the ground crunched beneath my feet, and the cold dampness coming through my shoes turned my toes to ice cubes.  Suddenly I heard my neighbor’s lawn mower roar into life.  My subconscious mind immediately went to work and without even thinking about it I was humming the old Sesame Street tune, “One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just isn’t the same…”
            Yes, I do live in Florida, but up here in north Florida your mower sits gathering dust, leaves, spider webs, and other assorted natural trash from November 1 till March 1, and sometimes beyond.  What in the world was he mowing? I wondered.  I never did find out, but it struck me that if I had driven by he would have looked odd sitting on a lawn mower with a heavy jacket, gloves, and a wool hat.  I wonder if he worried about what the people who drove by his yard thought about him.
            You think not?  You’re probably right.  Something needed to be done that involved a lawn mower and so he did it.  It’s really no one else’s business what it was and why he felt the need to do it.  Then why in the world do we get so uncomfortable when we look different to the world?
            We always direct thoughts like this to the young, but peer pressure works on every age, not just teenagers.  Isn’t that why we become uncommonly quiet when certain topics of conversation come up among our friends in the world?  We Americans often argue about our right to be individuals, usually quoting from works like 1984, calling Big Government laws we don’t like “Orwellian” because they take away the rights of the individual.  Then when the time comes to actually stand up and be an individual, to act differently than the mainstream of society, to talk differently, dress differently, live differently, we are just as bad as a teenager who wants to do what “everyone else is doing.”  Like a chameleon, we want to camouflage ourselves and blend in.
            So, can I really do this?  Do I have the strength to stand out in a crowd?  Can I be the one that every Sesame Street viewing child can point out as “not the same?”  God expects me to do just that.  In fact, he says, that if I live by the standards his Son taught I will not be able to help being different.  Some people will hate me for it; but others will respect me for it.  And maybe a few will be influenced to change their own lives.  We cannot have that influence if we are busy putting on our camo gear every morning before we go out.  Yes, the snipers might get us if we go out in blaze orange, but the ones who are looking for a way out of the woods might see us too.
 
Beloved I beseech you as sojourners and pilgrims to abstain from fleshly lusts which war after the soul; having your behavior seemly among the Gentiles; that wherein they speak against you as evil-doers they may by your good works which they behold, glorify God in the day of visitation.  I Pet 2:11,12.
 
Dene Ward

Just the other day I was asked how our congregation managed this past, crazy year.  Stupid me, I was just getting ready to say that I feared that trial of a year had hurt the faith of the weak, that several families had moved to other, closer, congregations who had not stopped meeting, and that we no longer had visitors from the community as often as before.  Before I could get any of that out, he added, "Have many gotten the virus?  How many have you lost to it?"  Ah.  So that's what he meant.  Why was I so surprised?
            I suppose my biggest disappointment during all of this is the small concern others have shown over the harm caused the spread of the gospel.  We don't dare invite people to services or even into our homes for a study.  If a few do come we greet them with thermometers instead of open arms.  We aren't allowed in the hospitals and nursing homes to visit and hold services.  My husband's own prison ministry was called to a halt by the state for several months and now that he is allowed back in he is limited to one third the number he had attending before, no matter the size of the room, or the number who desire to come, and even with masks on.  Plus the inmates now have to do paperwork to request a pass to attend, something they never had to do before, and sometimes that paperwork gets lost or delayed and interested people cannot be there.  When I mention these things, does anyone express any grief over the souls that are being lost?  No.  We're too busy counting virus cases, most of which people recover from.
            I wonder what Paul might think if he were alive today.  What keeps coming to me is his exuberant joy when he heard that the gospel was being preached, even while he was in prison, even while he was in chains, even while people were attempting to cause him even more trouble while doing it.  What does he say about that?  "I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. And most of the brothers, having become confident in the Lord by my imprisonment, are much more bold to speak the word without fear. Some indeed preach Christ from envy and rivalry, but others from good will. The latter do it out of love, knowing that I am put here for the defense of the gospel. The former proclaim Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely but thinking to afflict me in my imprisonment. What then? Only that in every way, whether in pretense or in truth, Christ is proclaimed, and in that I rejoice. Yes, and I will rejoice, " (Phil 1:12-18).
             This is not to make light of the virus.  I am truly sorry that some people have died.  I know personally some who are grieving and I have ached for them, prayed for them, and done the little I was still allowed to do for them.  But for the life of me, I cannot understand why we as the people of God are not openly grieving over the harm done to the cause of Christ, why someone isn't standing up and saying, "This is hurting the spread of the gospel," and weeping aloud about it; "This is killing the ones who were already weak," and bewailing it.
            Greeting one another with a holy kiss" (Rom 16:16; 1 Cor 16:20; 2 Cor 13:12; 1 Thes 5:26)—or holy hug, or holy embrace, or holy handshake, or holy however your culture greets—cannot be done over a computer monitor or a smart phone.  We cannot "show hospitality one to another" (1 Pet 4:9) when we are sequestered in our homes.  What does our reward depend upon?  In part, it comes because we have not neglected the Lord Himself by neglecting to visit the "fatherless and widows" (James 1:27) and those who were "sick and in prison" (Matt 25:36).   Except we have been prevented from doing exactly that.  But it seems not to matter at all because we certainly haven't caught the virus, have we?  Rejoice!
           We two are being careful, yes.  We are in that "high risk" group.  We have managed to stay well, despite taking a few chances here and there, like Keith continuing to go to the prison whenever they allow it, and both of us holding the Bible studies in our home and the willing homes of others that were in place before the world fell apart.  And it hasn't kept us from mourning as we see the damage being done to precious souls.  If the church had a flag, it ought to be at half-mast.  Their bodies may be hale and hearty, but the spiritually weak are dying in droves every day as long as this continues, and at a far higher percentage than the physically ill.  But do we care?  Nope.  Not as long as they don't catch the virus. 
           Well, they did catch the virus, the truly deadly one, the one that is always fatal unless the Great Physician heals us of it.  But, God forgive us, no one seems to be mourning over that.
 
I am speaking the truth in Christ—I am not lying; my conscience bears me witness in the Holy Spirit— that I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, my kinsmen according to the flesh. Brothers, my heart's desire and prayer to God for them is that they may be saved.  (Rom 9:1-3; 10:1).
For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ (Phil 3:18).
 
Dene Ward

Now when they beheld the boldness of Peter and John, and had perceived that they were unlearned and ignorant men, they marveled; and they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus. (Acts 4:13)
            Peter and John had healed the lame man the day before.  As always, they used this obvious miracle as an opportunity to teach the gathered crowd and the result was another couple thousand people becoming part of this new and rapidly growing group.  The powers-that-be heard about it and came too—the rulers, elders, scribes, the high priest and a lot of his family.  Can't have something like this going on, can we?  Their primary concern was probably their own power over the people and their pull with the Roman authority.  Anything that hurt either of those things had to be dealt with.
            But the thing I really want us to see this morning is this:  they could tell that Peter and John "had been with Jesus."  Maybe some of them recognized them, some might have even known about the blood relationship between Jesus and John, but there was something different about these men.  For unlearned men they handled themselves extremely well, with discretion when called for, but bravery when necessary, and their speech was as if they were trained by the best teachers.  And yet, I believe it was even more than that.  They simply acted the way Jesus had acted.
            I can think of nothing I had rather anyone say about me more than this:  you can tell she has been with Jesus.  How can that happen when he is no longer here?  I can read his words every day.  I can study his life in the gospels.  And, as Peter tells us, I can follow in his footsteps.  We're not talking about times like the one here when people were questioning the apostles and they had to give an answer in public under close scrutiny and in danger of physical persecution.  We are talking about ordinary life.
            When you go to work, can your co-workers tell you have been with Jesus?  When you drive your car, can the other drivers tell you have been with Jesus?  When you attend your child's Little League game, can the other parents tell you have been with Jesus?  When you post on Facebook, can people tell you have been with Jesus?  Or does it look like you have been spending your time with someone else entirely different?
            Today as you go about your life, whatever you do, wherever you go, whoever you come in contact with, make sure they can see from your words and your behavior that you spend your whole life with Jesus.
 
He who says he abides in him ought himself also to walk even as he walked. (1John 2:6)

Dene Ward