I hate to hear of a policeman gone bad.  He gives all the good ones a bad name.  As the wife of a law enforcement officer, I shouldn’t have to defend my husband’s career choice just because someone who isn’t what he should have been has shamed the badge, but the reality is, I do.

              Law enforcement officers aren’t the only ones who have this problem. 

              God spent an entire chapter on the priests of Israel who shirked their duties (Ezek 34).  Many good priests still quietly went about fulfilling their obligations, like Zaccharias, honored to serve in the house of the Lord, but by the time of Christ, too many were political animals, caring only for their own power and wealth, like Annas and Caiaphas.

              The Jews in the Old Testament, while still acting “as the people” Ezek 33:30-32, behaved in a manner unsuitable to God’s children.  They forgot who their Father was and shamed Him with their immorality, lack of compassion, and idolatry.  Yes, a remnant remained, but they too suffered because the majority represented the whole, and the world laughed Jehovah to scorn when He allowed them to be punished.  Yet He did allow it, because the representation of Jehovah’s children was shameful.

              In the New Testament, their descendants gave the people another bad name—“Pharisees,” which though merely a sect concerned with carefully keeping the Law, eventually came to mean “self-righteous hypocrite.”  It is easy to believe in a quick read that no righteous Pharisees existed, yet among them were Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and Saul of Tarsus.  In spite of them, the general impression the majority left had Jesus regularly condemning them. 

              Things have not changed.  Just as a corrupt cop can give all policemen a bad name, bad churches can give all other churches a bad name.  How many times have I had to defend the group I worship with because some other group far away lacked compassion, failed in its duty to teach the whole gospel instead of just its own pet slogans, or refused to welcome the troubled, the disabled, and the sinner?  More than I want to count.

              But more to the point this morning, have I given God’s people a bad name?  What do my friends, neighbors and co-workers think about my brethren, not by what they have seen of them in person, but by what they have seen of me?  Do I, in fact, complain about them all the time?  Do I gossip?  Am I constantly angry and unhappy instead of cheerful and pleasant to be around?  Do I assist whenever I can, whoever I can, or do I have biases that anyone who knows me can list without a second’s thought?  Am I reliable, trustworthy, and honest to a fault?  How is my language and my dress?  We are foolish to think no one notices these things, and we bring shame on our Creator when they do.

              The church is one big House of Representatives.  When the world looks at us, it sees the Lord.  Would He be happy with the picture you are painting of Him today?
 
For as touching those who were once enlightened and tasted of the heavenly gift, and were made partakers of the Holy Spirit, and tasted the good word of God, and the powers of the age to come, and then fell away, it is impossible to renew them again unto repentance; seeing they crucify to themselves the Son of God afresh, and put him to an open shame, Hebrews 6:4-6.              
 
Dene Ward                                                           

Some responsibilities are tougher than others.  Some responsibilities deserve the word “onus,” a responsibility that is so big it is almost terrifying.
              I imagine the first time you really understood that word was when they put that tiny, squirming baby in your arms.  Suddenly you understood that it was your responsibility to care for another human being, one who was completely helpless and dependent.  It wasn’t like a friend who was having a problem so you spent some time with him and then went home to your own life again.  This was a responsibility that completely changed your life—your schedule, your budget, your chores, even your habits. 
              I bet you said, “I have to stop (blank)ing now.”  You didn’t want your child to develop those same bad habits you were always fighting and suddenly you had the motivation to deal with them.
              I bet you sacrificed a lot of things.  Suddenly spending an hour to put on makeup wasn’t quite so important.  Suddenly you forgot to watch a few ball games on Saturday.  Suddenly you didn’t need to eat out quite so often, or see so many movies, or go shopping as much.
              I bet you suddenly felt a love you never even knew existed before then, something nearly overpowering in its strength.  While the word onus means a “burden” of responsibility, I bet you never thought of it that way once.  You were happy to do those things for that precious child. 
              I was studying a few weeks ago and came upon something that put another onus on me.  Once I really understood what I was reading, I actually shivered a little and felt a peculiar sensation in the pit of my stomach.
              …That they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan unto God, that they may receive remission of sins and an inheritance among them that are sanctified by faith in me, Acts 26:18.
              We are “sanctified” by faith.  Okay, so we are “set apart,” (yawn).  What of it?
              Our Father who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name, Matt 6:9. 
              The Greek word for “sanctified” is the same Greek word translated “hallowed.”  We are “sanctified” just like God’s name is “hallowed.”  Do you realize the burden that places on us in our behavior?  Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, Paul says in Phil 1:27.
              Suddenly our lives should have changed.  We should have been anxious to rid ourselves of the bad habit of sin.  Worldly affairs should have found their correct place on the bottom of our priority list.  Sacrificing for a Lord who sacrificed Himself for us should have come naturally, and an overpowering love and gratitude should have overwhelmed us.
              That’s what should have happened.  Did it?  Maybe this little reminder will help.  God expects you to be as hallowed, as sanctified, as His name is.  We always told our boys, “Remember who you are.” 
              All of us need that reminder.
              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, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. 1 Peter 1:14-19.
              Now read all those underlined phrases one after the other.  That is the onus that is placed upon you.
 
Dene Ward

The day after a camping trip is my least favorite.  It isn’t just that the fun is over.  It isn’t just the unpacking and the piles of extra-dirty laundry.  It’s the complete lack of order in the house.
              The linens box, the pots and dishes box, the two food boxes, the tent and sleeping bag box, the boxes of gas canisters, batteries, light bulbs, extension cords, insect repellent, clothesline and clothespins, books and Bibles, along with the tool box, first aid kit, two suitcases and two coolers lie stacked or scattered on the carport and porch, in the kitchen and living room.  Although the linens are all camp linens, no longer used on an everyday basis, they must all be washed—and bleached—before I can put them away.  Everything else must be sorted through.  Some stay packed with the camping gear and others are returned to their regular homes in the pantry, on a shelf, in a cabinet, or in the shed.  The tent must be set up in the field to finish drying and sleeping bags hung to air out.  It is often two or three days before my home is back in order.
              Over the past few years, I have learned to accept a little less order.  Keith’s idea of order does not match mine, but he has had to take over the housekeeping several times so guess whose sense of order reigns then?  But when I go into the shed looking for the garden trowel, I can never find it while he knows exactly where it is.  In fact, he wants the item put right back where I got it, even if it doesn’t make sense to me because of his sense of order.  I learned a long time ago not to touch the top of his dresser, no matter how much it aggravates me.
              We each have a sense of order—no matter how messy others might think it—and we don’t want people rearranging things.  Why do we think God wants us messing with His sense of order?
              God’s sense of order has always had a reason, and while my sense of order is nothing but a selfish desire to keep things the way I want them, God’s sense of order is always for our good.
              The order he imposes upon our assemblies is for the ease of edification.  Camp awhile in 1 Corinthians 14.  If there is no interpreter, don’t speak in tongues because no one will be edified (vv 15-19), and visitors will simply be confused (v 23).  If more than one of you has a revelation, take turns so people can be edified rather than confused by the chaos of more than one speaking at a time (vv 27-28).  Women should not be asking questions to put their husbands forward, when some other topic might be more important to the group at that time (vv 34-35).  Surely we can see applications to today’s assemblies in all of that.  God’s sense of order isn’t about who gets the most floor time, or how much we are entertained—it’s about how much edification occurs.
              God’s sense of order for our lives helps us live happier, safer, and healthier.  We take better care of our bodies, our relationships, and our minds when we follow His order.  Even the ordinances that seemed to have nothing to do with us reinforce the goodness, the righteousness, and the holiness of God—things that are important to making us fit for an eternal life with a spiritual and holy Deity.
              “Surely God wouldn’t mind” presumptuously ignores the fact that the Creator is the only one with the right to impose order in our worship of Him and in our lives of service to Him.  “But I like it this way,” is simply selfishness and a slap in the face to God who has given everything to make it possible to be with Him forever.
              God doesn’t really care if I keep my spare items on the bottom shelf of the pantry and the things actively in use at eye level.  It doesn’t matter to Him that Keith keeps all the garden sprays and powders to the left of the middle pillar on the third shelf.  But the order He does care about, should be my first concern too.  In those things, God’s sense of order is the only one that matters.
 
And by this we know that we have come to know him, if we keep his commandments. Whoever says "I know him" but does not keep his commandments is a liar, and the truth is not in him, 1 John 2:3-4.
 
Dene Ward

Life is full of them.
 
             Where will you go to school?

              Will you marry and if so, then whom?

              What career will you choose?  Or will you decide to be a stay-at-home mom and then a servant of the church after your children have grown and left the nest?

              Where will you live?

              Will you take this promotion?

              With which congregation of God's people will you choose to serve?

              In what ways will you serve?

              By the time they reach my age, most people believe the forks are all behind them.  All that remains is the final leg of the journey, one about which we may have very little choice.

              They couldn't be more wrong.  There remains one huge choice we must make:  how will we allow the past circumstances of life to affect us?

              I've seen older people become bitter and unsympathetic because of the "raw deal" they believe they were handed.  But I've seen others with just as trying ordeals radiate a quiet, compassionate wisdom.  One permeates the air with the fetid reek of selfishness while the other offers comfort and encouragement.  They may have both suffered great losses and disappointments—of such is life—but only one has "the mind of the spirit," recognizing that this life is not the be-all and end-all, that the first moment of Eternity will make it seem as nothing.  And that final fork in the road will be her choice to continue serving God by leading others to the same fork, rather than driving them away with spiteful comments, cynicism, and complaints.

              This fork may be your last chance.  Even if you chose poorly all along the way, you can use your failures to help others avoid them.  One right choice at the end can still make your life useFUL instead of useLESS.
 
Again, though I say to the wicked, ‘You shall surely die,’ yet if he turns from his sin and does what is just and right, if the wicked restores the pledge, gives back what he has taken by robbery, and walks in the statutes of life, not doing injustice, he shall surely live; he shall not die. None of the sins that he has committed shall be remembered against him. He has done what is just and right; he shall surely live.  Ezek 33:14-16

Dene Ward

“They didn’t come see me when I was sick.”

              You’d think by now I’d be used to it.  I’ve heard it everywhere I’ve been, but it still amazes me that people who have been Christians for decades still view suffering the wrong way.  Yes, we suffer in this life.  All of us suffer in one way or the other.  So why do those few think that the reason for their suffering is so they can be “Queen for a Day?” 

              Probably only a few of you remember that show.  I was very young myself.  Originally it aired on a local radio show in LA, but it was picked up for national broadcast by NBC on January 3, 1956.  It has been called the first “reality show” and it was roundly criticized even in its day.  It went like this:  three or four women showed up to tell their stories of woe and suffering and the audience voted on who was suffering the most and that one “lucky” woman received a robe, a crown, a bouquet of roses, and several prizes, in effect being treated like a queen for one day.  A contest to see who is suffering the most?  Really?  But isn’t that what so many in the church do?  “I deserve more attention than so-and-so because I have more problems than she does.”

              People who constantly complain about not getting enough attention are giving themselves away for, as Jesus says, “Out of the heart the mouth speaks,” Matt 15:18.  Indeed, if my suffering were as severe as my “Woe is me!” attitude, I wouldn’t be thinking about the attention I do or don’t get, but about the trial itself.  But all that is beside the point.  Suffering is not about being served.

              Peter tells us that suffering refines us, makes us pure and stronger (1 Pet 1:6-9).  James seems to indicate that suffering brings wisdom (Jas 1:2-6).  But I think that even those things don’t reach the ultimate reason we suffer.  Suffering is about discipleship.  A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher, Luke 6:40.  Why do we think we can be a disciple of a suffering servant and never suffer like he did?

              So why did Jesus have to suffer?  Hebrews tells us that because he suffered he is able to help those who also suffer (2:18), and that as a high priest he is able to sympathize with us (4:15.).  He learned obedience by the things he suffered “with loud cries and tears,” (5:8).  Yes, he really suffered and the whole purpose of his suffering was so he could help others who are suffering the same way.

              So why do I suffer?  Doesn’t it make sense that as a disciple of Christ, I am suffering for the same reason he did, so I can accomplish the same thing he accomplished?  We neither suffer so we can be the center of attention nor so we can stand as judge over others who give that attention.  We suffer so that we can better serve those who are suffering similar things.  Even the purity, strength, and wisdom that come from suffering helps us accomplish those ends.  As with everything else in a Christian’s life, my suffering is not about me, it is about others. 

              Have you been forsaken by an unfaithful spouse?  Be willing to talk openly to those who are going through the same things.  You may well be the only one who understands the thoughts that go through one’s head, the looks you get from others, the ordeal of custody battles and the instant poverty that sometimes accompanies this betrayal.

              Have you survived cancer?  Look for new victims who feel the constant pressure of wondering not if it will return, but when.  Look for still others, not just cancer victims, but anyone with a bleak prognosis.  No one understands the axe hanging over their heads like you do.

              Have you been the victim of violent crime?  No one understands the constant terror that one lives with after that, the burden of overcoming paranoia—seeing a boogeyman behind every face in a parking lot, in a grocery aisle, passing you in a car as you walk to get the mail.  No one else can understand the embarrassment of once again becoming a little child who is afraid of the dark.

              Have you lost a child?  Have you lost a child to the world?  Have you faced financial ruin?  Have you lost everything to a fire, a hurricane, a tornado?  Are you facing disability or the caregiving of a spouse who no longer knows who you are?  Everyone has faced something, and God expects you to use that experience, and the strength and wisdom you have gained from it, to help someone else.  You are the Lord’s agent on this earth.  Don’t let all your pain go to waste.

              None of this can be accomplished if I am still whining about a loss that occurred years ago.  No one can be helped if I am still expecting everyone to pat me on the back for every little thing that comes along.  At some point God expects me to not get over it—that may never happen—but to get past it, to no longer be paralyzed by grief but ready to serve.  Some afflictions are more difficult than others.  Some trials need a longer recovery period, but mature Christians eventually grow beyond the selfish need for attention. 

              We don’t suffer so we can be “Queen for a Day.”  On the contrary, suffering makes us both eligible and obligated to help others.  God expects me to search out those who need my special experiences and serve.  Just when has He ever expected anything less of His people?
 
So Jesus also suffered outside the gate in order to sanctify the people through his own blood. Therefore let us go to him outside the camp and bear the reproach he endured. Hebrews 13:12-13
 
Dene Ward

I recently ran a reminiscence of being so different in high school that a teacher gave me a special poster to celebrate it.  Somehow my parents taught me to be different and not care that I was different.  One reader made the comment on this blog's Facebook page, "We cannot teach our children to be different if we don't learn the lesson first," and now that I think of it, that may have been the key for me.  My parents thought nothing of being different.  If you were a disciple of Christ, that's how you lived.  And so I fell into it quite naturally.  Unfortunately many of my brethren must not have been taught that.

              This past presidential campaign nearly made me ill.  Seeing Christians spew out unverified rumors, innuendoes, sarcasm, threats, blatant disrespect, and just plain nastiness, all in the name of standing for the truth, appalled me.  I wondered what our first century brethren might have thought about the whole thing.

             Did you know that first century Christians in a world even meaner than ours (though by less and less everyday), often gave themselves away because they did exactly what no one expected them to do?  They were kind to those they disagreed with, including idolaters.  They assisted and served those in need, even those who would later turn them in for being Christians—an illegal activity.  Scorn, ridicule and disdain were not a part of their vocabulary or lifestyle.  They were different because they followed a Savior who was different, one who "when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, threatened not, but committed himself to him who judges righteously," 1 Pet 2:23.  THAT is what it means to be different.

              If you have been struggling to conform yourself to that image, maybe it's time for a little more effort.  You may have finally learned to speak kindly, even to the unkind and unfair among us, when it is face to face.  But how are you doing when it is not a "person" but a car you are railing at, or worse?  How do you do when it's a faceless voice on the phone?  How does your pen react when some impersonal corporation has treated you unfairly?  How does your keyboard click when you are posting a diatribe against whatever political side you deem evil at the moment?  In all those cases, someone—an actual person--is noticing how you behave, even when you think your identity is hidden.  Think about it for a minute—Facebook posts your name and picture at the top of every one of those angry posts.

              We recently did some painting in the house.  I went to the paint department of the local home improvement store, picked out a color card and handed it to the man to mix my paint.  When the paint went up on the wall, I was sure it was darker than the card I had chosen.  But when I laid that card up against the wall, it completely disappeared—it was exactly the same color.  It blended right in.  Sometimes we are nothing more than a color card at the paint store.

              I am supposed to be different from the average Joe, even the relatively good citizen out there.  I am supposed to act (not react) as a follower of my Lord.  I am supposed to be willing to suffer wrong or even loss to show that difference. 

               If being a Christian does become illegal someday in this country, I should be giving myself away by my kind words, by my willingness to yield rather than argue, and by my acts of compassion even to those who do not deserve it. I am not supposed to be blending in with all the other pagans, disappearing like a color card from the paint store into a wall of humanity who are a perfect match.
 
Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. (1Pet 2:11-12)
 
Dene Ward

When I was teaching piano and voice, my students often participated in an evaluation day at the university with judges rating their performances—superior, excellent, very good, good, and fair.  When I was a child I participated in the same event and the words given as ratings were exactly what they said they were.  Even a “very good” was very good. 
 
             By the time my students participated we were well into the philosophy of promoting self-esteem by never telling a child he was wrong about anything.  The vast majority of the 1000 entrants received a superior, which simply meant he didn’t play or sing more than a few wrong notes.  It had nothing to do with his musicianship or his artistry.  If a judge handed out more excellents than superiors, he was taken aside and enlightened.  As a result only a small handful of “very goods” ever hit the rating sheet, and news of a “good” spread like the plague, with exactly the same reception.  Everyone knew that a “very good” wasn’t, and a “good” was just plain awful.  Judges were actually forbidden to even look at the “fair” rating, much less circle it.

              That may be why “good” means little to us these days.  It is probably why we just read right over it when Luke calls Joseph of Arimathea and Barnabas “good” men.  Luke did not use that term lightly; those were the only two times I found that particular Greek word used of a man. 

              So can we ever hope to become so good that term can be used of us, the same term that Jesus used of God?  Only if, like God, that goodness becomes an intrinsic part of us, a goodness that exists no matter what happens on the outside, no matter what anyone else says or does. 

              Jesus seemed to expect it.  You brood of vipers! How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks. The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil. Matthew 12:34-35.  There is the word, agathos.  A good person can only do good things if his heart is good, so if I am not doing them, something in my heart needs to be changed.

              “But that’s just not who I am,” won’t cut it with the Lord.  He expects us to change who we are.  He expects us to turn that evil heart into a good one, one that is good the way God is good, simply by its nature.  But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Luke 6:35.  There it is again, that same word, or a compound of it in this case, a “do-gooder.”  If you want to be a child of God, that’s what you have to be.

              Jesus makes it even plainer a little later.  Becoming “good” is not an option. It is not something we can do on the outside, while harboring a heart of evil or malice towards others.  It is not something we can do by rote without compassion.  It is the thing that will determine our destiny.  Well done, good and faithful servant.  Enter into the joy of your lord, Matt 25:21. 

              “Good” is a very special word in the Bible.  It isn’t passed out profligately so we can keep our self-esteem intact.  It isn’t bandied about simply because of good deeds or loud hallelujahs.  It is a quality so deep that if one ceases to exist in this life, so does that much goodness in the world.  “Only one is Good,” Jesus said, in the absolute sense.  That doesn’t mean he doesn’t expect us to become good as much as is humanly, with a little help from God, possible.
 
And let us not grow weary of well doing, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. So then, as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith. Galatians 6:9-10
 
Dene Ward

All summer I had been watching those monarch butterflies flit over my flower beds. Every couple of days I carefully checked the herb garden twenty feet away for signs of their caterpillars.  That’s what I read somewhere—that monarch butterfly caterpillars are the dreaded parsley worms that can wreak havoc on that herb almost overnight.  Nothing happened.  My parsley grew well and was never infested.  Somehow I got off easy this year.  I thought.

              Then in mid-October we went away for a week.  We returned on a Friday night, after dark, too late to see much but the back porch by the light hanging outside the back door.  The next morning we stepped out for a stroll and saw what had happened.  Every sprig of parsley was completely bare, only the bright green stems sticking up completely naked—except here and there for the bright green worm still clinging to the bush it had just decimated.  I am not so paranoid as to think that somehow they all got together and planned the attack for while we were away, but it was certainly suspicious.

              Satan, on the other hand, is perfectly capable of planning his attacks that way.  He waits until we are most vulnerable.  He waits until we have experienced a crisis in our lives, until we are frustrated by circumstances, until our defenses are down, and then he zooms in for the kill.  Being on the alert when you are tired and hurt is not easy, but that is exactly what we must do, standing guard as a soldier in the Lord’s army. 

              One of the greatest benefits of being in the family of God is having people who care enough to watch your back.  All of us should be aware of the crises in our brothers and sisters’ lives.  Too often we are so consumed with our own affairs that we don’t have time to watch out for others, and that means we are too consumed, period.  Then we wonder how a brother could fall so far, why a sister was caught up in such a sin, why a family has “suddenly” disappeared from among us.  How in the world could those things have happened?  They happened in part because everyone was too busy to notice.

              What do you do when announcements are made in the assembly?  Is that when you spend your time arranging your books, glasses, and children on the pew, the time you flip to the first song and look through it, the time you know you can spend a little longer in the ladies’ room before you need to be seated?  Those announcements should be your greatest tool the next week as you figure out what you need to do for whom, how you can encourage a brother or sister in distress, what you might say to one whose soul is in danger.  How much do you hear when you are finishing up a conversation that has no bearing on a soul, or racing to your pew before the first song begins?  Those pieces of news are about service, and that is the most important part of a Christian’s life, considering one another…Heb 10:24.

              Be aware of the timing in the lives of others too.  Is it the first anniversary of a widow’s loss?  Is it a season that makes being alone that much harder for the single?  Are ordeals approaching in people’s lives that might make them more prone to Satan’s attacks?  We have a job to do; we have service to offer; we have comfort to give and sometimes exhortation and rebuke when we see those attacks making progress in the lives of another.

              If we see them.  If we care.  If we aren’t so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss the attacks and wake up one morning to an almost overnight slaughter in the garden of God.
 
Wherefore lift up the hands that hang down, and the palsied knees; and make straight paths for your feet, that that which is lame be not turned out of the way, but rather be healed, Hebrews 12:12-13.
 
Dene Ward

Over the years I have learned a foreign word or two in the Bible just from having them come up over and over in my classes.  One of those words is "Beth."  "Beth" means house.  So Bethlehem means "house of bread," Bethesda means "house of mercy," and Bethel means house of God.  I suppose those actually meant something when they were first used, but eventually their significance became unimportant to the people—they were just names.  But one of those names became important to a prophet of God as Israel's apostasy worsened, the name Bethel.

              Bethel was the place where Jacob dreamed his dream of angels on the ladder.  He built an altar there, more than once, and called the place "Bethel" because that is where he had his encounter with God.

              Later on, Bethel was one of the first places that the Ark of the Covenant was set up.  Since there was as yet no Temple, the people met there for their worship.  It most certainly was "the house of God" then.

              After the nation divided, when Jeroboam was trying to glue the northern kingdom to one another and himself, he set up the golden calves—to worship Jehovah, mind you, "the God who brought you up out of Egypt," as Aaron had called a similar image--one in Dan at the northern end of his kingdom, and the other in Bethel, in the south.  Now worship was convenient and no one had to make that long trip south to the Temple.

              Of course, this led straight to full-blown idolatry along with all its accoutrements.  When Hosea came along, calling them all to repentance, he flatly refused to call "Bethel" by its name.  It was no longer "the house of God."  (Hos 4:15; 5:8; 10:5)  Instead, Hosea called it "Beth-aven."  And what does that mean?  "House of iniquity," or evil, vanity, affliction, or wickedness.  A much more suitable name, don't you think, for a people who had broken their covenant with God by worshipping other gods, making alliances with other nations, and even sinking to the "abomination"—a word reserved for the things God considers the most heinous of sins—of sacrificing their children.  "You no longer deserve this name," Hosea was telling them.

              So how are we doing at living up to the names, or in some cases descriptions, we use of ourselves?  What does the sign say outside your meeting place?  If you do not follow the teachings of Christ, if you are not behaving as a child of God, how can your assembly (church) possibly think it is "of Christ" or "of God?"  And as to our individual name, if I am not acting like a disciple of Christ, how can I possibly claim the name Christian?

              The privilege of using those names and descriptions carries with it a responsibility to live and worship a certain way.  "God wouldn't mind…" is more about living like you want to live than like He wants you to live.

              If you were being honest, what would you call yourself this morning?
 
But God's firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: “The Lord knows those who are his,” and, “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.” (2Tim 2:19)
 
Dene Ward

I have been teaching Bible classes since I was sixteen, to literally hundreds of women and children in over a dozen different locations, in several different venues.  Sometimes I wish I could go back and apologize to those early classes.  Experience has taught me so much.  This particular experience has probably happened to every teacher everywhere, probably more than once.

              A sensitive topic was on the agenda so I approached it with more than a little trepidation and a lot of prayer.  What I was about to tell them is no longer popular in the world.  I had prepared myself for possible objections, and steeled myself to stay calm and give thoughtful answers in a calm voice.  Oddly enough, when you defend the word of God, it should never sound “defensive.”

              A few weeks later, one of the young women wrote me a note.  She told me she had not agreed with everything I said, but that she had learned things she never knew before that would affect her views from then on.  She said she was likely to change her mind on some as she considered the things I had presented.  She thanked me for the time and effort I had taken to teach that study.  I still have that note, and always will.

              Contrast this to another young woman who, as the subject was presented, began to seethe.  She compressed her lips into a thin line and narrowed her eyes in contempt.  As soon as I took a breath, she raised her voice, and accused me of judging her personally.  She told me I was wrong in a tone of voice I would not have used on an enemy.  Then she folded her arms, sat as crossways as she could away from my general direction, and lifted her chin defiantly.  I doubt she heard anything else I had to say.

              It was an important topic that should not be avoided, and really, to be responsible before God as a teacher of His word, I could not have avoided it.  No names were mentioned.  I knew no one’s personal history.  I carefully said at the beginning, “I am not aiming this at anyone here because I do not know you that well.”  By her own actions, this person identified herself to all as one who had the problem, and by her own actions she told me that she would not even consider that she might be wrong.  

              I have far more confidence in the first woman’s continuing faith than the second.  I only hope that by making such a big deal out of it herself, that the latter will remember it and perhaps reconsider in spite of herself.  Her problem, you see, was pride.  She wasn’t wrong simply because she couldn’t be wrong.

              But he gives more grace.  Therefore it says, “God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble,” James 4:6.  That word “resist” is a military term.  It means “to range in battle against,” according to W. E. Vine.  It means you are going to war against God.

              Matthew Henry says it like this:  “In his understanding [the proud man] resists the truth of God; in his will, he resists the law of God, in his passions, he resists the providence of God.”  How many other ways can God reach us?  If we resist all these things because of pride, we will never find his grace.

              I found so many passages where God talks about destroying the proud that I lost count.  Sometimes it was individuals.  Sometimes it was a small group like the church at Corinth.  Sometimes it was the general personality of a nation, like Edom and Moab.  People who are proud will never find God, because they will never admit their need for Him.

              It can all be seen in something as small as a Bible study.  That first listener is far more likely to experience the grace of God.  She is open-minded and willing to listen, and most of all, she is willing to consider that she might possibly be wrong about something.  Peter refers to the same scripture as James in 1 Pet 5:5,6.  Notice, however, the context of this reference. 

              Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elder. Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble." Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.

              Though he begins by speaking about the elders in particular (5:1-3), he gradually moves on to the more general “older” and “younger.”  As with the constant urging in the book of Proverbs from which the original passage comes (3:34), he expects us to learn from those who are older, who have more knowledge, and more experience.  Perhaps they are wrong, but if we instantly dismiss them because they disagree with us, how can we ever hope to find out?  It all reminds me of children who look at a new dish and say, “I don’t like that,” when they have never even tasted it.  Childish, indeed, and so are we when we are too proud to listen and study because, “I’ve never heard that before, so it can’t be right.”

              Is anything worth missing out on the grace of God?  When it is asking too much of us to say, “I was wrong about that,” or even, “I might be wrong about that,” it will be asking too much of God to say, “Enter in…”
 
Talk no more so very proudly, let not arrogance come from your mouth; for the LORD is a God of knowledge, and by him actions are weighed. 1 Sam 2:3.
 
Dene Ward