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)
​
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

I just returned from a visit with my mother at the Rehab Center.  I took in a plate of my best, ooey-gooey brownies and laid them at the nurses' station for all the people who care for her, even the housekeeping ladies and maintenance guys.  I wrote on the paper plate a big thank you from her family.  Suddenly, my mother was everyone's favorite patient; suddenly everyone wanted to let me know that they took care of "Miss Hilda;" suddenly the glum looks I had received the first time we went in turned into big toothy smiles.

              I learned a long time ago that the better you treat people, the better results you will get, even if it's their job anyway.  If you call waitresses by their names and spend a little time noticing something about them—complimenting a pretty pin or expressing concern about a slight limp—you will get far better service.  If you need to call a company, if you remember the name of the one who answers the phone and use it a few times, then tell them how much you appreciate the help they give you, even if it isn't all that much, the next time you have to call, they will remember and try harder to help you out.  Once you establish that rapport, they will even do their best to help you with a complaint.  Nine times out of ten, the better you treat people, the better they will treat you.

              That should not be the way it is for a Christian.  For a Christian, the worse people treat you, the better you should treat them.  What?!  Why that's just plain un-American, isn't it?  Unfortunately it just might be, but "American" should not be your first descriptor to anyone.  Maybe we should spend a little time on this.

               We run around talking about agape love all the time like we actually know what it means, and then turn around and do the opposite.  Look at Romans 5 and let the Lord show us how we are supposed to love.

              For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life. (Rom 5:6-10)

              Did you catch that?  How were we treating God when he sent our Savior?  We were weak, we were sinners, we were his enemies, and still Christ died for us.  If you think that doesn't apply to us, let me remind you:  For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. (1Pet 2:21)

              Still not convinced?  Let's try this:  The fruit of the Spirit includes kindness (Gal 5:22), a word associated with God in such passages as, And has raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus: That in the ages to come he might show the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus. For by grace are you saved through faith… (Eph 2:6-8).  Here Paul makes it plain that the kindness of God is associated with his grace, meaning we did not earn it.  That's the same word as the fruit of the Spirit "kindness."  We are to be kind to others, not because they have been kind to us, but because God has been kind to us.  And that's why we should always treat others better than they deserve. 

              And that puts me in mind of this:  ​For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. (Matt 7:2)  If ever there was a time you don't want to get what you give, I think it might be this one.
 
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. (Col 3:12-13)
 
Dene Ward         

I found a new soup recipe.  The first time I made it, it was absolutely swoon-worthy.  I played with it a bit and it's even better now—leeks, sausage, collard greens, chicken broth, cream and Parmagiana Reggianno cheese.  So I made it again for company with a Stromboli on the side. 

             Since it mattered more, I very carefully measured everything according to the recipe.  I even pulled down my forty year old food scale to measure out the sausage since the first time I had just eyeballed it.

            "My eyeballs must be way off," I thought as I piled what seemed like twice as much carefully measured sausage in the soup as I had the first time. 
If my eyeballs were off, then I guess I really didn't like the recipe that much after all.  It was no longer Collard Green and Sausage Stew, it was Sausage Soup.  Period.  That's all you could taste, and I was a bit embarrassed at my meal.
 
            I must have mulled that over more than I thought because out of the clear blue one day I figured it out.  Just to make sure I pulled down my scale and looked.  Yep.  I was right. 

          At Thanksgiving we had an emergency run to the hospital with my mother so I was suddenly doing everything on one day that I usually take three days to do.  That meant Keith was my sous chef—peeling, chopping, and washing dishes.  For the Duchesse potatoes I needed two pounds of potatoes, peeled.  I had forgotten that he put a bowl on my scale and then reset it to zero so he could count pounds as he peeled.  The bowl must have weighed half a pound because my scale was still set half a pound behind zero and with these eyes I had never noticed.  As I measured out half a pound of sausage that day, I really measured out a whole pound.  I had doubled the sausage but kept everything else the same.  No wonder it was ruined.  Sausage is not exactly bland. 

            No matter how old you get, you still learn things, some of them the hard way.  From now on you had better believe I will check my scale and make sure it is set on zero! It's still a wonderful recipe, but only if you get the measurements right.

          It matters how our spiritual scales are set too. Every day we need to reset them. 

            For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace. For the mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God, for it does not submit to God's law; indeed, it cannot. Those who are in the flesh cannot please God. (Rom 8:5-8)
 
             We live in a physical (carnal) world.  We deal with issues that affect us physically and emotionally.  If we don't have our spiritual scales set on the things of the spirit, we will measure things just as wrongly as I measured that sausage.  If doing right hurts us or someone we love, we might not do it.  That's what happens when someone has set their minds on the wrong things.  Peter did it too.
 
              From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, “Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.” (Matt 16:21-23)
 
             Peter loved the Lord, but that very love made him refuse to accept his words and his mission.  It may even look good, after all, it was out of love.  But Jesus called him "Satan" when his priorities were not set correctly.  Why would he not rebuke us the same way?
 
             Paul says that when we are too caught up in political affairs, our minds are set on the carnal rather than the physical.  We have actually become enemies of Christ.
 
             For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to himself. (Phil 3:18-21)
 
             He tells us we are still living as the old man of sin if we still obsess about earthly things.
 
             If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. (Col 3:1-3)
 
             He tells us we are being selfish and arrogant when we do not have the mind of Christ, when it is not set the way his is.
 
             Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Phil 2:5-8)
 
             All those underlined words in the passages above (and below) are the same Greek word.  Having my kitchen scales set wrong only messed up a meal.  Having our spiritual scales set wrong will cost us a whole lot more.
 
Brethren, I count not myself yet to have laid hold: but one thing I do, forgetting the things which are behind, and stretching forward to the things which are before. I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus. Let us therefore, as many as are perfect, be thus minded… (Phil 3:13-15)
 
Dene Ward

We first met Ermon Owens and his family over 30 years ago, when our boys were still in grade school.  His family became some of our dearest friends.  They ate at our table many times and our children played together and grew up together.  Keith and Ermon cut wood together.  They raised pigs together.  They sat together and talked Bible for hours.  In fact, you couldn't sit with Ermon for long without talking about spiritual things.

              At one of those dinner visits, Keith talked to him about becoming an elder.  True to his humble nature he seemed a bit aghast.  "Me?" he asked and was instantly assured that not only was he qualified, he had a talent for watching over people.  With just a little more persuasion from others, he finally accepted that heavy responsibility and flourished at it.

              Ermon had a way about him.  He made it his business to find out about people and their problems.  He knew who needed a kind word or a pat on the back, and he gave them freely, searching out needy souls as he wended his way through the crowd on Sunday mornings, or as he made visits during the week.  Yet he could answer a fool according to his folly with a few words that left that man speechless and ashamed—but seldom angry.  Ermon knew that waiting "for a better time" could be the advice of the devil because you never know what opportunity could be your last to try to save an erring brother or sister.  Last week Ermon taught us that lesson himself with his sudden, tragic passing

              Maybe it was that broad smiling face or the twinkle in his eye, but Ermon had a special way with children.  Many of us found out after his death that he had been a tutor and mentor to elementary school students.  We shouldn't have been surprised.  In our family alone he showed up at recitals, school musicals, ball games, and graduations.  He bought my Lucas some cleats when he was on the high school baseball team.  We hadn't even known he needed them, assuming the school provided such things, but not so in the smallest county in Florida.  He often sat in my classes to watch me teach the children, an elder watching over the new lambs in the flock to make sure they were being fed properly.  That was Ermon.  Always on duty, always watching out for others.

              Ermon was one of the finest men I have ever known.  He was the big brother I never had, even if I did have a couple of years on him.  When we lost Ermon, we lost much more than a simple man—we lost a hero.

              Ermon's children played with mine, went to Bible class with mine, and they often spent time in one another's company outside of church time, though they lived in different counties a good twenty miles apart.  Ermon's son Leron stood up with my Nathan when he married and because of the closeness we had shared for so long, we had Ermon and Brenda seated in the family section that night.  It seemed fitting.

              One evening, a dozen or more years before that, the Owens had come over for yet another dinner.  When it was time for them to leave, our boys were not ready to say good-bye to their young friends.  "Can't they spend the night?" Lucas implored. 

              "But they have school tomorrow," Ermon reminded him.  At this point I need to tell you, if you don't already know, that Ermon and Brenda are African-Americans.

              "They can come to school with us," Lucas immediately replied.  "We'll tell them they are our cousins," and then stood there waiting for his "obvious" solution to be accepted.

              Ermon's eyes widened.  "I don't think they would believe you," he finally managed.

              "But why?"  Lucas asked in all innocence. 

              None of us answered, and finally Lucas, who was about 12 at the time, figured it out.  "Oh," he said, shoulders drooping in disappointment.

              At that point Keith spoke up.  "Well Ermon, we are brothers aren't we?  And that makes our kids cousins, I think."

              Ermon cocked his head as he considered the thought.  "I guess so," he finally allowed with a smile and a chuckle, "but they still can't stay, Lucas.  Maybe another night."

              And there were many more nights. 

           Ermon came to lunch about a month before his passing.  It was the usual—talk about spiritual things for a good two hours.  When he left, he said, "This has been good," and he wasn't talking about the food.   Yes it had been good, and one day we will get together again, but if I had known the hug I gave him that day would be the last, I would have never let go.

             One of Ermon's favorite things to say was, "I know where I'm going, and I'm ready to go.  Are you?"  I promise you, he's saving you a seat in his Father's house, waiting with that beautiful smile and that precious twinkle in his eye.
 
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me! (Job 19:25-27)
 
Dene Ward