A long time ago my sister gave me a recipe for “Congo Bars.”  Congo bars are basically a blondie, extra gooey, with two kinds of chips in them, butterscotch and semi-sweet.  The recipe makes not a 9 x 13 pan, but a 10 x 15, and when I need a whole lot of something, I still go to that recipe.

             I have added a few twists of my own, though.  First, I toast the nuts.  The pan doesn’t stay in the oven but 15 minutes, which is not quite enough time, enrobed as they are in all that batter, for the nuts to really brown.  Believe me, the flavor difference is obvious. 

              The other change I made began as a desperation move when I didn’t have one cup each of butterscotch and semi-sweet chocolate chips.  Instead, I had about half a cup each of those bagged up in my freezer from previous recipes, and also the remains of a bag of peanut butter chips and one of white chocolate chips.  Together they made just over the two cups total I needed, so I threw them all in.

              I have never received so many compliments on a homely looking bar cookie in my life.  Things like, “Wow!  This is so interesting,” and, “I get a different flavor with every bite.  How did you do that?”  So now I do it on purpose.  Whenever I see those pieces of bags stacking up in my freezer, Congo bars are on the menu that week as the dessert I take to a potluck, or the bars I take camping, or the cookies in the cookie jar when the kids come home.  Weeks after they first taste them, people are still talking about these things, and all I did was stir a bunch of different flavored chips together in the batter.

              That is exactly what God expected from the church.  He never intended us to be homogenous groups, some all middle class, some all lower class, some all black, some all white, some totally blue collar workers, and some nothing but white collar workers.  “All nations shall flow in,” Isaiah prophesied in chapter 2, and it becomes obvious when you read about those first century churches that Jew and Gentile weren’t the only differences.

              But even in the first century, the people rebelled against such a notion.  “We can’t worship with them,” the Jewish Christians whined about the Gentiles.  “Come sit up here,” they said to the rich visitor, and gave the lesser seat to the poor man.             

              Hadn’t Jesus paved the way?  Even among the chosen twelve, there were differences—blue collar Galileans and urbane Judeans, men with Aramaic names and men with Greek names, some disciples of John and others not, fishermen, publicans, and Zealots.  They too had trouble with the notion of equality among them, but they overcame it.

              I worship with a congregation of 300.  You know the wonderful thing about that?  Whatever I need, someone there can help me.  I have a physician, a plumber, a computer whiz, a chiropractor, a financial advisor, a legal consultant, an electrician, a carpenter, and a pharmacist.  As far as the church’s needs, we have an accountant, a couple of computer techs, lawn workers, housekeepers, teachers, photographers, several Bible scholars, and a host of others who step up when the need arises in their specialty.  We have babes in arms and folks in their nineties.  How likely is that to happen when there are only 30 of you?

              Sometimes you cannot help there being only 30 of you—at least for awhile.  That should be changing too as each fulfills his obligation to tell others about his faith.  But sometimes churches are small because people do not want to worship with other types of people.  Why should there be a small black group and a small white group in the same town except that people do not want to be together?  Shame on us for letting our comfort zones become more important than the good of the Lord’s kingdom in that particular locality. 

              The power of the gospel is seen not only in the changes in our lives, but in the way people of different backgrounds, cultures, and classes love one another.  Jesus prayed that we would all be one “so the world may know that you sent me.” 

              We have people who raise their hands when they sing, and people who don’t.  We have song leaders who lead more modern, syncopated music, and those who stick with the old standards.  We have people “raised in the church,” and those who are new to it; some who grew up knowing right from wrong before they were knee-high, and others who came to us from rehab.  There may be a different flavor in every bite, but we all get along.  To do otherwise would make a mockery of the plan of salvation. 

              “All have sinned,” and we are all saved by the grace of the same God.  That’s the only sameness about us that really matters.
 
May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. (Romans 15:5-7)
 
Dene Ward
 
Click on Dene's Recipes if you want to make your own Congo bars.

We had no land when we first moved to the country and were forced to rent a house in the hamlet nearby.  We were only in that big old frame house for 5 months, but I will never forget it.  Uneven flooring, tall drafty ceilings, and, when we moved in, no heat and no running water.  It was January 1st.  We sat around the table in hats and coats eating oatmeal or soup for every meal, and hauling water in buckets.  Eventually the truck company next door let us hook our garden hose to their well spigot.  We pulled the hose through an inch wide gap under the kitchen window and ran it into the sink beneath, which at least made the haul shorter. 

              After about a week the well man came out and fixed the pump, and the gas man filled the tank.  Still it wasn’t warm.  Room-sized gas space heaters in the bathroom, kitchen, and living room did little to mollify the effects of fifteen foot ceilings and cracks between the planks in the floor through which we could see the ground three feet beneath.  It was the coldest winter I remember in this area—but maybe it was just that house.

              When early spring rolled around I remember standing on the back stone steps in the sun—probably for the warmth.  Keith was on his haunches petting the dog, a black and brown mixed breed we had picked up at the pound a year earlier and named Ezekiel.  The boys were standing next to him listening, probably to some daddy advice.  They were 4 and 2, oblivious to our living conditions, and perfectly happy. 

              Suddenly the breeze picked up and over the house something floated down out of the sky and landed across Keith’s shoulders, hanging down on each side of his chest.  It was a snakeskin.  When we figured out what it was, he couldn’t get it off fast enough.  It must have been four feet long, with perfect scale imprints all along its length.  It creeped me out, as the kids say these days.  I still shudder when I think of it.  Maybe that’s why I still remember that house so well.

              I remembered that house and that event again recently when we passed a fifty gallon drum by the woodpile and there lying across it was another perfect snakeskin, three feet long, hanging over each side of the barrel.  They still give me the creeps when I see them, or the heebie jeebs, or whatever you choose to call that horrible feeling that runs down your spine, makes you shiver to your shoes and your hair stand on end.  Maybe it’s because I know that somewhere nearby there is a real snake.  I can’t pretend there aren’t any out there simply because I haven’t seen one lately.

              I’m sure you could make a list of things that give you that feeling.  What worries me is that nowhere on anyone’s list is the three letter word “sin.”  It ought to give us the creeps to be around it, to see its effects on the world, people fulfilling their every lust, their hearts full of hate and envy and covetousness, lying as easily as they breathe.  It ought to make us shiver to hear the Lord’s name taken in vain from nearly every mouth, even children, or the coarse, crude, vulgar language that passes for conversation—and entertainment!-- these days.  Why?  Because you can be positive the Devil is somewhere nearby.  He’s just waiting to drop out of nowhere and drape his arm around your shoulder.  Before you know it, you will be dressing like everyone else, talking like everyone else, and acting like everyone else.  In short, you will be like everyone else, walking around swathed in snakeskin, hugging it to yourself instead of ripping it off in disgust.  

              Don’t think it can’t happen to you, especially if sin doesn’t give you the creeps to begin with. 
 
The fear of the LORD is hatred of evil. Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate... Seek good, and not evil, that you may live; and so the LORD, the God of hosts, will be with you, as you have said. Hate evil, and love good, and establish justice in the gate; it may be that the LORD, the God of hosts, will be gracious to the remnant of Joseph…Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good, Prov 8:13; Amos 5:14,15; Rom 12:9.
 
Dene Ward

And he said to me, “What do you see?” I said, “I see, and behold, a lampstand all of gold, with a bowl on the top of it, and seven lamps on it, with seven lips on each of the lamps that are on the top of it. And there are two olive trees by it, one on the right of the bowl and the other on its left.” And I said to the angel who talked with me, “What are these, my lord?” Then the angel who talked with me answered and said to me, “Do you not know what these are?” I said, “No, my lord.” Then he said to me, “This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of hosts. Who are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plain. And he shall bring forward the top stone amid shouts of ‘Grace, grace to it!’” Then the word of the LORD came to me, saying, “The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this house; his hands shall also complete it. Then you will know that the LORD of hosts has sent me to you. For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice, and shall see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel. “These seven are the eyes of the LORD, which range through the whole earth.” Then I said to him, “What are these two olive trees on the right and the left of the lampstand?” And a second time I answered and said to him, “What are these two branches of the olive trees, which are beside the two golden pipes from which the golden oil is poured out?” He said to me, “Do you not know what these are?” I said, “No, my lord.” Then he said, “These are the two anointed ones who stand by the Lord of the whole earth.” (Zech 4:2-14)

              This night vision is a bit more involved, but many elements of it become obvious if you have spent any time in the Old Testament at all.

              Zechariah sees a lampstand.  Lampstands were common in the time, and one even stood in the Temple.  Scholars argue about the details of this one, but everyone gets the main point—this lampstand is directly attached to an olive tree on either side, from which the oil flows constantly.  This lampstand will never go out.

              In the middle of the vision, the angel gives a message for Zerubbabel—you will accomplish your mission.  Evidently, the man needed some encouragement, just as all good leaders do.  The people had been uncooperative at times—else why had the services of Haggai and Zechariah been needed?  The work was long, hard, and dangerous.  Yet, "the hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation…and his hands will complete it."  How?  Not with an army, not with wealth or status, but by the Spirit of God.  How could he fail with that power behind him?

              And then the prophet gives a message for them all:  "Do not despise "the day of small things."  No, this is not the glorious, restored kingdom you have been promised.  Yes, this Temple is nothing compared to Solomon's, but those glorious things cannot come without these small things happening first.  If these people had not returned, if they had not built up their nation once again, if they had not built a Temple and rebuilt the walls, then what?

              Surely you can see the application to us.  We are that glorious Messianic kingdom.  And how is it built?  Not with armies, not with wealth or status, but by the Spirit of God.  It is built when we edify one another.  It is built when the world sees our love for each other, our peace, our joy, and wants the same things.  It is built when we offer the gospel day in and day out, not worrying about the "increase" but leaving that to God.

              And though our efforts may look small, especially when we insist on quantifying it, nothing is small when it comes to the work of God.  We all have our place in His plan.  Small groups few and far between are large in the eyes of God as long as we are working, teaching, serving, giving, sharing, spreading light to the world through our lampstands (Rev 1:20).  We must never stop.

              The vision ends with "the two anointed ones"—the offices of priest and king under the Law.  In reality for us, the priest is the king, the Messiah, two in one.  This was their hope for thousands of years, and now He is ours too.
 
Do all things without grumbling or disputing, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain. (Phil 2:14-16)
 
Dene Ward

Up until the wedding of Queen Victoria on February 10, 1840, wedding gowns were made of colored materials, and usually of a design that could be worn again.  Most of the time, in fact, her wedding dress was the best dress the bride already owned.  Very few had the money for a one-and-done dress, let alone one a couple hundred times the cost of an average dress. 

              Queen Victoria started the tradition of white gowns (even though the actual gown is more of a pinkish ivory), and though the traditional meaning of a white gown was not yet set, we all know what it has come to mean over the years.  When a woman of questionable morals wears white, you can hear from all corners, "You mean she's wearing white?!"  A white wedding gown in the twentieth century celebrated a pure virgin presenting herself to the man who would be her one and only lover for life. 

            God certainly didn't have white wedding gowns in mind, but the sentiment is exactly what He had in mind when he ordained marriage.  The symbolism of marriage is one He also used for His people, both Israel and the church.  For I feel a divine jealousy for you, since I betrothed you to one husband, to present you as a pure virgin to Christ. (2Cor 11:2)

              One would think that a pure young woman would wear a dress that suited that purity.  But only a few days ago I saw an article about wedding gowns with this statement:  "It's time we moved beyond the self-righteous[ness of a virgin bride]…societal attitudes have evolved and relaxed."  (Laurie Brookins, youbeauty). 

              I take issue with the idea that a young woman protecting her virginity until marriage means she is self-righteous, but let's stick with the second half of that statement today.  Societal attitudes may have relaxed, but not God's. 

            For this is the will of God, your sanctification: that you abstain from sexual immorality; that each one of you know how to control his own body in holiness and honor, not in the passion of lust like the Gentiles who do not know God; that no one transgress and defraud his brother in this matter, because the Lord is an avenger in all these things, as we told you beforehand and solemnly warned you. For God has not called us for impurity, but in holiness. Therefore whoever disregards this, disregards not man but God, who gives his Holy Spirit to you. (1Thess 4:3-8). 

           When I give myself to another man, I have defrauded my future husband, even if I do not know who he is at that moment, and worse, I have lost the holiness and purity that God expects of his children, male and female.  Keeping one's physical virginity is a large part of keeping one's spiritual virginity, especially in a culture saturated with sex.

              So why, when a young bride is escorted down the aisle, especially on the arm of her father, would that father countenance (and pay an exorbitant price for) a dress that leaves her half naked from the shoulders to the waistline, front and back?  Instead of celebrating a young couple who have kept themselves pure for one another, we have let those relaxed societal attitudes invade our own thinking.  Who says that a bridal gown should not be about sexual purity?  Fashion designers, that's who, not godly men and women, and certainly not God.  Any dress that any Christian wears should be about sexual purity!

              This has been going on for two or three decades now.  My daughter-in-law of 16 years had to search long and hard for a modest—virginal—wedding gown.  Another young bride I know finally settled for one that had a cape to go around her shoulders because the only choices showed far too much skin, but good for her for finding a solution instead of giving in.

              Consider these passages:
And Rebekah lifted up her eyes, and when she saw Isaac, she dismounted from the camel and said to the servant, “Who is that man, walking in the field to meet us?” The servant said, “It is my master.” So she took her veil and covered herself. (Gen 24:64-65)

I clothed you also with embroidered cloth and shod you with fine leather. I wrapped you in fine linen and covered you with silk. (Ezek 16:10)

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful
headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels. (Isa 61:10)

Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; ​it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure”— for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints. (Rev 19:7-8)

             Yes, I realize that most of those passages are talking about spiritual marriage between God and His people, but there has to be some basis in fact for the symbolism to stand.  Notice that in all of them, the bride is being covered, not uncovered.  In weddings of Bible times the bride was richly clothed and completely covered with a veil.  In fact, Ezek 23, one of the most graphic chapters in the Bible, tells why God is giving up on his betrothed virgin, Israel—she is no longer a virgin, no longer pure; she has "flaunted her nakedness" so that God "turned in disgust from her" (Ezek 23:18).

              We must stop allowing society to determine our standards of modesty.  We must train our daughters to dream about bridal gowns that convey their purity and innocence as they approach their chosen mate, not about keeping up with the latest fashion craze.  And we must train our sons to be strong fathers who will take a stand about what their daughters will and will not wear. 

              God doesn't really care if your dress is white, but he does care if your soul is, and He most certainly cares how you dress the physical body he gave you—dress that will show  the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. (1Pet 3:4)
 
Dene Ward

I can remember my daddy uttering those very words every time we pulled up to what was then called a “service station,” a glassed-in office with two service bays and usually two gas islands, sporting regular, premium and mid-grade pumps, the older models rounded on the top and the newer ones square-cornered and squat.  An attendant came out of one of the bays, called to us by the double-ding of the bell hoses we ran over with both front and rear tires, usually wiping his hands with a greasy blue rag, and did the honors while we sat in the car waiting.  He also checked the water in the radiator and battery, and cleaned the windshields.  When the pump kicked off, he carefully finished filling the tank and then bent his head to the open window to tell us the amount we owed.  If we paid cash, he brought back change.  If we used our gas company credit card, he took it and ran it, bringing back a dark blue clipboard with slip attached and a pen for a signature.

              We never left the car, never lifted a finger.  It was all done for us.  Maybe that’s why we seem to expect God to “fill ‘er up” without having to make any effort at all ourselves.  Maybe that’s what we’re thinking when we sit in our pews on Sunday morning—we’re expecting the teachers, songleaders, and preachers to “fill ‘her up.” 

              “I didn’t get anything out of services this morning,” we say, as if that were the only purpose to our being there, to allow others to wait on us just like an attendant at an old-fashioned service station; as if that were the only possible way to fill oneself up spiritually.

              Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled, Matt 5:6.  Do we really think that righteousness can be poured in like gasoline, that we can sit passively while it happens?

              John tells us, Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, 1 John 3:7.  Being filled with righteousness has far more to do with what I do anywhere else besides a church building than it does with listening to a sermon and expecting to walk away holy because of it.

              God also expects us to fill ourselves with knowledge.  Anyone who thinks that comes from osmosis on Sunday mornings as we doze in our pews or play with the babies in front of us had better not apply for a school teaching job any time soon. You won’t keep it long.

              Paul says, And so, from the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God, Colossians 1:9-10.  Becoming knowledgeable takes work far above and beyond listening to a couple hours a week of sermons and Bible classes.  Making it stick means applying what you learn, “bearing fruit” as you put that knowledge into practice.

              But others have the problem of which tank to use.  They seem satisfied with “regular.”  My daddy worked for Gulf Oil so we always went to Gulf stations.  “Regular” was called “Good Gulf” and premium was called “Gulftane,” a play on the fact that the octane was higher.  A soul created in the image of God requires nothing less than premium.

              I read a book once in which the writer was at a loss to know how to refill herself after giving so much to marriage, children, and society.  Her problem was thinking she could do it herself, with things that have no eternal existence and purpose.  She was trying to fill up on “regular.”   Christians know better.

              May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope, Romans 15:13.

              “Fill ‘er up,” we used to say to the gas attendant.  Far more important, we should say it to God, and then do our part as He fills us to the brim.  It’s the only way to keep your life from running on empty.
 
And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God, Philippians 1:9-11.
 
Dene Ward

I had heard of it happening before, washing machines walking across a room during a spin cycle because they were out of balance.  The washers of our day must be more attuned to the problem.  In fact, several years back when I put something large and heavy in the washer, as it began to spin, it simply cut itself off—some sort of failsafe, I suppose.  I rearranged the heavy bedspread and it spun just fine, finishing the load as programmed.

              Yet a couple of months ago, I went to move the towel load from the washer to the dryer, and found my machine sitting cockeyed from the wall.  In fact, if the back corner of the machine hadn’t hit the sidewall of the nook where it sat, it might have done a complete 360, water spewing everywhere when the hose pulled out of the wall.

              Ever since then, any sort of semi-heavy load sets the machine to walking—towels, jeans, sheets—and I have numerous dings in my laundry nook wall where that back corner always slams into the wall.  The washer man gave us some instructions, but nothing works.  Somehow my washing machine has become out of balance, and it appears it will stay that way.  On our recently slashed retirement budget, it isn’t worth the money to fix.

              Some of us have the same problem.  We can’t seem to find the balance.  Some stress obedience to the neglect of sincerity; others say, “The heart is all that matters.”  Some emphasize purity and truth to the point that compassion is all but lost, while others view mercy and compassion as the be-all-and-end-all.  A good many believe that wisdom and common sense will solve all matters, avoiding sacrifice for others and unquestioning faith in a God who controls all.

              “It isn’t good stewardship of my money.”

              “God would never expect…”

              “He meant well, and that’s what counts.”

              “They have family.  Let them do it.”

              “At least they attend a sound church.”

              “I thought we’d never get him baptized.”

              “This isn’t wrong but it might lead to…”

              All of these statements are a sign of a washing machine out of balance, banging against the wall as it pits one scripture against another, wresting the Word of God to make it fit what I want, instead of weighing the spirit of the law, and making a righteous decision based upon an appropriate balance of faith and wisdom, purity and compassion, obedience and sincerity.

              I know a man who had to study to make an important decision in his life.  He said, “I studied it knowing the wrong decision would send me to Hell.”  He’s the same man who will reach into his pocket the moment he hears of a need.  If you have that kind of balance in your life, none of this will be as difficult as the contentious always want to make it.
               
But if you had known what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice, you would not have condemned the guiltless, Matt 12:7.
 
Dene Ward

Malachi is not a difficult book to understand.  In fact, it, along with Jonah, may be the two easiest of the prophets to grasp.  The difficulty in Malachi is that you do understand it.  Talk about a hard sermon, I haven't heard anyone of our era preach one like it—not even Keith!

              “A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the LORD's table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the LORD of hosts. And now entreat the favor of God, that he may be gracious to us. With such a gift from your hand, will he show favor to any of you? says the LORD of hosts. Oh that there were one among you who would shut the doors, that you might not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the LORD of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hand. For from the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. For my name will be great among the nations, says the LORD of hosts. But you profane it when you say that the Lord's table is polluted, and its fruit, that is, its food may be despised. But you say, ‘What a weariness this is,’ and you snort at it, says the LORD of hosts. You bring what has been taken by violence or is lame or sick, and this you bring as your offering! Shall I accept that from your hand? says the LORD. (Mal 1:6-13)
             
               If you just skimmed over that passage above, stop right now, go back and read it carefully.

               My sisters and I trod very lightly as we read through this first chapter.  We put off the pain as long as possible, talking about whether Malachi was really a prophet named Malachi or an anonymous writer called "Malachi," which means "my messenger."  We decided Malachi was indeed the prophet Malachi.  After all, every name in Hebrew means some sort of ordinary word.  Just because we choose to give our children names that are a conglomeration of syllables and sounds that we have no clue what means doesn't mean everyone does.

              Then we spent more time discussing when Malachi was written, which, due to the nature of the similar problems in both Malachi and Nehemiah, seemed a no-brainer.  And after that came an explanation of the disputation method of speaking, which several of the prophets employed.  Only Malachi uses it throughout an entire book.

              Finally we could put it off no longer.  "How," the question in our study began, "can we apply this passage to ourselves?"  "How can we,"
 someone asked, "when we live in such different times?"  Ah, but do we?

              Those people had returned from captivity to restore the nation of Israel and its true worship.  They had built the altar first, so they could begin their worship immediately.  Then they built the Temple and finally the walls of the city.  Here they are about 100 years after the return, going about the daily sacrifices and annual feasts, yet still God has not brought about the glorious kingdom he had promised.  Still the Messiah has not come.  They are in a waiting period and, as they wait, their worship has become dull, meaningless routine.  Their heart is no longer in it.  They are bored in their assemblies and snort at the rituals rather than remembering the reason for them.

              Let's see… Aren't we in a waiting period?  Jesus promised his return 2000 years ago, but here we sit, going through the same routines, forgetting why we worship and neither giving it our best effort nor our best sacrifice.

              So how are we like those people sometimes?  Hang onto your hats as we go through those verses above from our perspective!

              1)  Worship has become all about our entertainment and approval rather than obedience and reverence.  We have completely forgotten that we are not the audience—God is—and He expects us to worship to the best of our abilities even if the preacher is boring and we don't like the songs.  It doesn't matter—AT—ALL—what we think about the services, only what God does.

              2) We treat the Lord's Supper like some kind of magic potion.  As long as we "make it in time for that," we are okay.  Never mind that we have missed singing with our hearts to our Creator.  Never mind that we have not taught and admonished each other.  Never mind that we have not been there to provoke one another to love and good works.  That teensy bite and sip (where did that come from?) will keep us safe for another week.  We fail to treat this precious opportunity as a grateful memorial and unifying communion with the Lord and our brethren.

              3) We offer God skimpy or exhausted leftovers, not only in the plate, but in our time and energy for prayer, study, and service.  ("Study?  I read my chapter every night.  What more is there to do?")

              4) We compartmentalize our religion to Sunday at the meetinghouse and forget that we are to offer our "living sacrifice" every day of the week.  When we wake in the morning, it should be with an eye how to best serve God that day—not ourselves.

              5) We fail to teach what is unpopular with the world.  Why, we will just run them off if they know we believe that! (2:7,8)

              How are your toes feeling now?  Malachi hits the nail on the head and never apologizes for it.  Could it be that he knows this truth:  God won't be happy with us either if this is the way we serve him.  We may be waiting a long time yet.  The world may last another millennia or two, but maybe not.  Let's not get as bad those people.  Wouldn't it be awful if God said of us as he did of them, "I wish there were one among you who would close the meetinghouse doors, that you no longer worship me in vain?" (1:10)
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Blessed is that servant whom his master will find so doing when he comes. Truly, I say to you, he will set him over all his possessions. But if that servant says to himself, ‘My master is delayed in coming,’ and begins to beat the male and female servants, and to eat and drink and get drunk, the master of that servant will come on a day when he does not expect him and at an hour he does not know, and will cut him in pieces and put him with the unfaithful. (Luke 12:43-46)
 
Dene Ward

When Silas came to stay all by himself for the first time, we were not sure how he would handle being away from Mommy and Daddy.  Especially since we were over two hours away, it would have been impossible to get him back home quickly if he were too homesick to last.  He was still three, barely, and, though he had stayed alone with us the night Judah was born, and the night after as well, that was at his own home and he slept in his own bed.

              We managed to keep him talking about happy things all the way home, deeper and deeper into the “dark, spooky woods” as he later called it.  It was after nine o’clock at night and, if you have never experienced it, there is nothing quite as dark as “country dark”—away from the streetlights, traffic lights, parking lot lights, and neon signs of the city.  Only once or twice did he stray into the dangerous territory of “Where will I sleep tonight?” in a pensive tone of voice.

              “We’re here!” we shouted as we pulled up to the gate, wondering aloud in excited voices if Chloe would come to meet us.  That kept him happy as we pulled into the carport and unfastened his booster seat straps.  Then, just as we walked toward the back porch, an owl screamed not fifty feet away, sounding every bit like a hysterical woman, followed by a “Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha” before finally settling into its usual “Who-hoo.” Silas was up those steps in a flash, plastered next to his grandfather’s leg and looking over his shoulders with eyes as big as Frisbees.  How could I tell in the dark?  Even in the dim starlight I could see white all the way around those big blue irises.

              “Uh-oh,” I thought.  “He will be terrified for the rest of the night.”  Luckily Grandma had made some ooey-gooey chocolate cookies and that took care of the problem.  That first impression, which could have ruined the entire stay, was fairly easily overcome, but I think it often is for children.  It’s the adults among us who hang on to them.

              And that brings me to today’s point.  We all know that old saying, “You only get one chance to make a first impression.”  I wish we could remember that all the time, not just when we are meeting someone we hope to impress for our own selfish interests.  Everyone who comes into contact with us, anywhere and any time, is a soul we might be able to save.  What if that first impression you make is the only impression you will ever make?

              I try to remind myself of that when I have a bad experience at a store or in a restaurant.  If I fly off the handle and act like a jerk, if I indulge in harsh words that suit my sense of an injustice having been done me, demanding “my rights” as a customer or patron, how will I ever persuade them to study the Bible with me?  Could I turn right around and hand them an invitation to church services, a gospel meeting, or a ladies Bible class?  Just exactly what kind of reaction do you think I would get?  Did you have a bad morning?  Our bad moods can be very expensive—they can cost someone else his soul.

              So remind yourself the next time you are caught in a tricky situation.  Paul told the Corinthians they should be willing to suffer wrong so the church wouldn’t be ridiculed by the litigious behavior among them (1 Cor 6:7).  What are we willing to suffer so the first impression we leave with someone, won’t guarantee that it will be the last?
 
Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7-8.
 
Dene Ward      

Living in the country has meant adapting.  In many ways it has been good for me.  The city girl found out she could learn and change, even though change is a thing I have never liked.  I love routine.  Now, after 38 years, it isn’t change, it’s just a new routine, and that helps when I have had many more changes in the past few years, and see more coming.

              One of the things I learned quickly was to make sure I had everything I needed to get by for the week.  A sixty to eighty mile round trip, depending upon which side of town what I need is on and how many other places I have to stop as well, doesn’t happen more than once a week even if you did forget the bread or run out of milk.  You learn to do without. You don’t change your mind about the menu unless you already have on hand the things the preferred dish needs.  When an unexpected guest arrives and you want to offer a meal, you put another potato in the pot, double the biscuit recipe, and get out another package of frozen garden corn, and if you didn’t plan dessert that night, you put the home-canned jellies and jams on the table.  So far, no one has complained.
I have learned to be organized.  I do everything in one visit, and usually that coincides with a doctor appointment or a women’s Bible class.  I keep track of everything I run out of, or run low on, as the week progresses, and buy it all in the order that uses the least gas.  I keep staples well stocked.

              I have also learned that I don’t have to have everything I think I do.  The only store close to us is a tire store, about three miles down the country highway.  The man has been in business for 40 years.  Our children went to school with his, and somehow he has made a good living selling tires in the smallest county in Florida just outside a village that might have a population of 100 if you count the dogs.   But as far as shopping, it doesn’t do much for me.  You can’t try tires on, they don’t do much for the home décor, and window shopping is the pits.  So I don’t “shop.”

              Sometimes we become slaves to our culture.  We think we must wear certain things, go certain places and do things in a certain way because everyone else does.  We shop and buy because everyone does, not because we need it.  We go see the movies that “everyone” has seen.  We buy a cell phone because “everyone” has one nowadays—“it’s a necessity.”  We run down to the store every time we run out of something instead of carefully making a list of what we need and taking care of it in one, or at most two trips a week, wasting precious time and costing ourselves more money than we realize.  Everyone does, we say.  Maybe we should stop and think about that.

              Why?  First, because it never crosses our minds to be different than everyone.  Is it sinful?  Maybe not, but then why does something have to be sinful before I am willing to look at it and decide whether it is best for me and my situation?  Why am I so afraid to be different?  A Christian should have a mindset that is always looking at things in different ways than the rest of the world.  If I decide this is the best way to live (and not sinful), then fine, but I should, at the least, think about it.  Christians who always act without thinking will eventually do something wrong some time in the future. 

              Second, we are to be good stewards of everything God gives us, including time and money.  If we saved a little time, could we use it in service to God?  Could we offer help to someone in distress?  Would we have more time for visiting the sick and studying with neighbors?  If we saved those few dollars every week, could we give more to the Lord?  Could we help someone in need more often?  Could we be the ones who take a bag of groceries to a family in distress because that day we could buy for them instead of running to the store for yet something else we forgot?

              But we aren’t really talking about running down to the store here.  We’re talking about attitude and priorities—about doing the best we can for our Master in more than a haphazard way.  Paul says we are to “purpose,” or plan, our giving.  I have no doubt that doing so ensures a larger donation than merely waiting till the last minute to see what’s left in the bank or the wallet.  The same thing will be true if we plan our prayer time, study time, and service time.  Instead of running out of time for any of it, we will find ourselves making a habit of the things God expects of us.

              In a parable Jesus praised the steward who was “a faithful and wise manager,” who was always working, always serving, and able to get the appropriate things done at the appropriate time (Luke 12:42).  Those servants, he goes on to say, are always ready for the master’s return.  Are we ready, serving and working as many hours a day as possible as faithful stewards, or are we so disorganized that judgment day will find us at the checkout for the fifth time in a week, just to pick up a forgotten jug of milk?
 
As each has received a gift, use it to serve one another, as good stewards of God's varied grace: whoever speaks, as one who speaks oracles of God; whoever serves, as one who serves by the strength that God supplies--in order that in everything God may be glorified through Jesus Christ. To him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen. (1Pe 4:10-11)
 
Dene Ward

While that old chestnut about "reverend" only being in the Bible once is wrong (the English word may only be in the King James Version once, but the Hebrew word it is translated from is in there well over 300 times and often refers to men), the scriptures are plain about the attitude we should have toward God and only God, both in word and deed.

              In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” (Isa 6:1-5)

              If that passage doesn't make you shiver, you have missed its point.  Isaiah felt that reverential awe we should all feel about God.  Contrast his words with the casual approach we take to God these days.  I imagine the old story about the young man who walked up front to pray on behalf of the congregation and began his prayer with, "Hi Dad!" is apocryphal.  Or maybe it isn't.  But it doesn't take much time to look and listen to see that attitude everywhere in our culture, maybe in our assemblies as well in many other ways.

              Here's sometime else to think about.  Look at the next few verses in Isaiah.  Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am! Send me.” And he said, “Go, and say to this people…’ (Isa 6:6-9)

              Isaiah's sin had to be atoned for before he could speak God's word to others.  It only makes sense.  If you are the vessel that God's word comes from, you had better be holy, just as God is.  Now how about me?  How about you?  If my life speaks of sin, I am not fit to proclaim his word.  If my words are not pure, I have no business using my mouth as His.  When I hear a man talk about "his Lord and Savior" and then spout filth or take that same Lord's name in vain, I know he needs a hot coal pressed on those foul lips of his.

              Be careful what you say this morning—and what you do, especially if you plan to talk to people about the Most Holy God.
 
As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile. (1Pet 1:14-17)
 
Dene Ward