The people who once bestowed commands, consulships, legions, and all else, now meddle no more and longs eagerly for just two things—bread and circuses.  Decimus Junius Juvenalis.

            That ancient Roman writer, known today as Juvenal, described how the Roman rulers kept the masses content, while gradually stealing away all their power.  What had once been a Republic had become an empire ruled by selfish, immoral, greedy men, more interested in retaining power and wealth than caring for the people under their rule.  And the people themselves deteriorated into a populace addicted to free distribution of food and violent gladiatorial contests.  They were so distracted by mindless self-gratification that they had become unable to think, unable to recognize any greater good beyond their own lusts.

            I can think of ways this might apply to America today, as I am sure you can, but it is nothing new.  Jesus dealt with the same mindset.  In John 6:26, he reproached the masses who followed him like this:  You seek me…because you ate of the loaves and were filled.  When he began to talk about the True Bread, they left. 

            The Pharisees came on more than one occasion, and to test him they asked him to show a sign from Heaven, Matt 16:1.  Herod on the night before he was crucified had long desired to see him, because he had heard about him, and was hoping to see some sign done by him, Luke 23:8.  They wanted a show, a “circus,” not a sign that would produce faith.  John tells us that for many of these people though he had done many signs before them, they still did not believe in him, 12:27.  Bread and circuses do not work in the spiritual world any more than they do in the physical.  It may bring more in, but how many stay when they find out what is really required of a disciple? 

            None of this is to say that we should not reach out to the world in as many ways as possible.  After all, Jesus did feed them, and he did do signs.  But sooner or later we must get past the superficial and reach the heart.  If my neighbor is in need, why not help him?  When I take a meal to the sick, perhaps he will be more willing to realize that his sick soul needs food too, and maybe he will come to me to feed it.  If I am part of an assembly that is open and friendly, that worships whole-heartedly and obviously instead of sitting like bumps on a log, perhaps he will sooner understand that the heart is not all that matters because he will more often visit and hear the word of God spoken clearly and forcefully.  But we must sooner or later do as Jesus did and force the choice upon them: 

            Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.  Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever, John 6:54-58.

            And when they refuse to exist on nothing but Christ, then we must also do as he did—let them go and not bother chasing them down.  They have shown what they really wanted, and spirituality was not part of it.  God does not want people who are so distracted by mindless self-gratification that they become unable to think, unable to recognize any greater good beyond their own lusts.  He wants people who live on him and his word, even when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient, even if it costs more than they had ever imagined.  He wants a people for his own possession, who will give him the glory and honor he deserves.
 
After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, will you also go away?  Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God." John 6:66-69
 
Dene Ward

For their seventh and fourth birthdays, which we celebrated together, we gave our grandsons scooters.  They were small scooters, starter scooters, I called them, about like a skateboard with a handle.  But they were thrilled.  If ever we got a gift right, we seem to have that time.  Before long they were zooming around like little speed demons.

              Of course, four year old Judah was not quite up to his older brother’s antics.  He tried his best to follow him in the same places, at the same speed, and usually wound up losing it on a curve.  Finally he stopped, turned down his little lip and said, “I can’t do it good.”

              Of course he could; he was doing just fine for his age.  He just couldn’t do what his big brother could.  While there isn’t much difference between forty-four and forty-seven, there is a lot of difference between four and seven.

              And too often that’s what we do.  We judge ourselves against people who are older, wiser, and more experienced.  I see this woman handling a life threatening illness like cancer and I can’t even handle the flu without getting grumpy and complaining.  One man sees another teach an outstanding class on Zechariah and he can’t even give a decent five-minute Wednesday night talk.  And both become so depressed they stop doing what they can do.

             And if we aren’t careful, instead of gradually growing and learning how, we give up too.  Or we blame it on God for our lack of talent, or on our parents for not making us do our lessons as children, or for not taking us to church, or on the church for not using us as we “ought to be used,” regardless of what we can and cannot do.  Any of those is our handy alibi for sitting down and doing nothing.

             The day that Judah complained was a Sunday.  “Guess what?” I asked him. 

             His big blue eyes turned up to me as he said, “What?”

            “Tomorrow is Monday and Silas will be at school.  That means you can practice your scooter all day if you want to and before long, you will be as good as he is.  And by his age, maybe even better!”

            He gave me a lop-sided grin like he wasn’t sure about that.  “Really?” he asked.

            “Really!”  I said.  And he hasn’t given up.  He knows he needs to work at it, but he also knows that he will get better.  He already has.

            And that’s what we need to remember.  Plus this: God doesn’t compare us to brother or sister Whozit.  He knows what we can and cannot do.  He is the one who decides what we are capable of—not us!  And if we keep on trying, we will “do it good,” good enough to please a gracious Father.
 
So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation— if indeed you have tasted that the Lord is good. (1Pet 2:1-3)

Dene Ward         

I suppose it started when they were little.  Even though it was not yet mandatory, we bought our babies a car seat and put them in it every time we got in the car. 

            We actually had someone say to us, “How do you get them to sit in the car seat?” 

            We looked at each other, more than slightly appalled.  Finally Keith said, “I’m bigger than they are.”  Funny how these parents can manage to get it done now when they would get in trouble with the law if they didn’t.

            So our boys knew that they were always to be buckled in when we got in the car.   When they could finally do it themselves, they did.  It reached the point that I no longer checked on them.

            A little over twenty years ago we had a head-on collision.  It could have been much worse than it was.  Keith has a plastic eye socket to show for it, and I have a neck that gives me grief on a fairly regular basis. 

            The boys are fine, but when I turned around to check on them after the crash, I had a moment of shock.  Nathan was sitting in the middle of the back seat instead of his normal place behind his dad.  The seat belt on his side had not worked so he simply moved over to one that did.  He never said anything, never asked what to do, never thought about sitting there without a seat belt.  I never knew about it until that moment.  Because of his training, that ten-year-old had a sense of ought—“I ought to be buckled in”—and that may have saved his life, and certainly saved him injury.

            Christians should have a sense of ought born of integrity and diligence.  They do what needs to be done without being told—in fact they look for things that need to be done.  A Christian would never see a problem and say, “that’s So-and-So’s job,” and leave it undone when he is already there and could take care of it quickly and easily.

            A Christian does not have to be coerced or cajoled into doing right.  It should shame a church when the elders must beg them to save seats or parking spaces for the visitors. It should make us cringe to think we need some sort of metaphorical carrot (or stick) to do what anyone with a little thoughtful consideration would do, whether he was a Christian or not.

            A Christian does right whether anyone else does it or not.  “They don’t do it, so why should I?” would never enter his thoughts.  “He gets away with it,” would make no difference to him because he does what he should simply because he “ought” to do it.

            My little boy found another reason for doing what he ought to do—it kept him safe.  I doubt he has ever forgotten that lesson.  Our true test of spirituality is this—can we see that the “oughts” in this life will keep us safe in the next?  They all stem from a deeper perspective than self.  Maybe sitting in a certain pew won’t really send us to hell, but the attitude that our conveniences and preferences are more important than a lost soul surely might.
 
But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed. Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of people ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness? 2 Pet 3:10,11.
 
Dene Ward

I remember those exciting mornings when, as a child, our parents woke us for an early start on a vacation trip.  It was dark and, even though it was summer in Florida, cool and damp.  Those were pre-seat belt days and often I would be carried straight out of bed and laid on the back seat, while my little sister got the back window.  Then we drove for several hours before the light finally woke us and we stopped for breakfast.

We didn’t do much in the way of vacations—we couldn’t afford them.  Usually they were visits to distant family.  My parents left early so we had more driving time and avoided a motel bill, but those trips were still exciting.  We could not afford weekends away or trips to resorts or amusement parks, so any sort of trip was special.  And that breakfast out was special too because it was rare.  But we weren’t unusual—everyone lived that way.  Rising early for something that special was common to us all.

We still have things we rise early for—work, school, a hunting trip, tailgating before a ball game, Black Friday, and yes, even leaving early for a vacation.  But do we ever rise up early for God?  Did you know that one of the hardest things for people to give up is their Sunday mornings?  At least it would seem that way when they skip the Bible study hour or at best swarm in at the last minute so they can get every extra minute possible of sleep.

We are not living up to our heritage.  God’s people have always risen early to pray, to meditate, to worship.  Abraham (Gen 19:27), Jacob (Gen 28:18), Moses (Ex 24:4), and Job (1:5) all rose early to make sacrifices and meet with God.  Elkanah and his family rose early to travel to the tabernacle for the feast days (1 Sam 1:19).  Jesus rose early to go to the Temple (John 8:2) and so did the crowds who went to hear him.  It may not have been early when Jesus went to pray, but it was by the time he finished, having “prayed all night” (Luke 6:12). 

David woke early to pray.  My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. (Ps 119:148).  The Jews recognized three night watches, beginning at sunset the night before and ending at dawn the next morning.  It may have been a bit hyperbolic but if not, David evidently awoke before each one began just to pray.  How many times have you or I ever interrupted our sleep to pray as often as that?  How many times have we done it even once?

Obviously, their prayers and their worship meant a lot to those faithful people.  Neither was viewed as a duty, but as a privilege and a pleasure, just as much a pleasure as that long awaited vacation trip that has us up and at it and ready to go before dawn.

More than that, we should be gratefully rising early to serve a God who rose early to save us.  And now, because you have done all these works, says Jehovah, and I spoke unto you, rising up early and speaking, but you heard not; and I called you, but you answered not: (Jer 7:13)  Those words to a faithless people can apply to us too.

Maybe the problem isn’t attitude, but a simple lack of preparation.  Maybe Saturdays should not be for wearing ourselves out and staying up late.  Maybe they should be, at least a little bit, about preparation for our worship together on Sunday mornings.  God went to a lot of trouble to prepare things for us.  It seems a small thing to ask to prepare ourselves physically and mentally for Him at least one day a week.
 
And…evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, (Mark 15:42).

Dene Ward

             I will think I have it figured out. 

            I will say, “Yes, life is hard, but God never promised otherwise (despite Joel Osteen).  I can do this.” 

            Then suddenly something happens I did not expect, something that seems the opposite of everything I have prayed for, and I wilt.  That’s when it is all too easy to fall into the “Why me?” trap.  The “I’ve done all this for you and look what I get in return,” con.  Jeremiah fell too.

           The prophets never had easy lives.  Hosea, Ezekiel, Amos, and Jeremiah are prime examples, and maybe Jeremiah more than any of them.  Check out 15:10-21.  Because of the poetic and figurative language it can be difficult to get the full impact, so if you will allow, I am going to paraphrase for you.

              In many versions this is labeled “Jeremiah’s Complaint.”  That ought to give you a clue about what’s going on.

              Jeremiah says, “Everyone hates me [because of what I’ve preached on your behalf, which is implied not spoken] v 10.

              God says, “Haven’t I delivered you?” v 11.

              Jeremiah says, “I did just what you told me to and YOU have deceived me” vv15-18.

              Uh-oh, Jeremiah has gone a step too far.  God will always hear His children’s cries.  Elsewhere on this blog we studied the Psalms and discovered that there are far more lament psalms than any other kind (including praise psalms)!  But Jeremiah has accused God of sin against him.

              How do I know?  Because God tells him, “If you repent, I will restore you.  Do not become like the very people I have sent you to” v 19.

              There are two lessons in this conversation that we need to hear.  First, other people’s bad behavior never justifies bad behavior in us.  Somehow we think that we can get away with anything as long as we can say, “But look how he treated me.”  No, we can’t, and if we claim to be Jesus’ disciples, the one who When…reviled…did not revile in return; when he suffered…did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. (1Pet 2:23), then we should know that.

              And that last phrase, “entrusting himself” to God segues nicely into the second lesson.

              “I delivered you,” God told Jeremiah.  Somehow, Jeremiah missed it.  Maybe it’s because he kept winding up imprisoned or thrown into a muddy cistern and left to die, and threatened with death almost constantly.  But God did deliver him.  Someone always came to the rescue providentially, people who just happened to be there with memory and logic, or on one occasion a foreigner who somehow had influence over the king.

            Jeremiah’s problem was that God’s idea of deliverance didn’t match his.  Here I am up to my armpits in a filthy, dank well and this is deliverance?  Yes, it was.  Instead of being killed instantly, he was left to die, which gave his rescuer an opportunity to save him.  Eventually he was pulled out of that hole to relative safety so he could preach even more.  Do you see that?  He was delivered so he could continue a hard and dangerous mission, not so he could live in luxury.

            And for us, deliverance may not look like our version of deliverance.  It may not match what we have prayed for, but that’s because God’s version often involves things we haven’t even been spiritual enough to think of.

            Do you want an example?  If you know my eye story, you know it has been going on a long, long time.  Longer than any doctor thought possible.  No, my vision is not what it used to be, but I still have some!  And what has that done for me?  It has taken away a lot things that used to take up my time, and suddenly, I am able to write, to teach, and to speak.  I have done more of that in the past ten years than in the thirty years before combined.
 
           And even now, it appears that my remaining distance vision is dimming.  But with the aid of lenses and large print, I can still manage the close things.  I can still study.  I can still type.  I may not be able to see the individual features of the crowd of faces in front of me, but I can still see my notes and my mouth works just fine.

            God’s idea of deliverance cost me a few things, like a music studio and some independence.  But it also delivered me to do so much more.

            Don’t whine when your deliverance is not what you hoped.  Don’t mope when your plans don’t work out, when you feel used and abused, when you think all is lost.  You may be shoulder deep in the mire right now, but that will make the deliverance even more amazing when it comes.  Just stop expecting your version and look for God’s.  In the words of the old joke, “I sent a boat and I sent a helicopter.  It’s not my fault you didn’t take me up on it.”
 
Therefore thus says the LORD: “If you return, I will restore you, and you shall stand before me. If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall be as my mouth. They shall turn to you, but you shall not turn to them. ​And I will make you to this people a fortified wall of bronze; they will fight against you, but they shall not prevail over you, for I am with you to save you and deliver you, declares the LORD. ​I will deliver you out of the hand of the wicked, and redeem you from the grasp of the ruthless.” (Jer 15:19-21)
 
Dene Ward

A long time ago my piano teacher organized her students into something called a junior music club, and one year I served as president.  Because we students were members of this club, we were eligible to participate in several special events and recitals, including something called “the Festival” where our performances were rated by a judge, who also gave helpful comments and encouragement.

              Twenty years later I joined a local chapter of the Florida Federation of Music Clubs and eventually attended one of their State Conventions.  As I watched, listened and learned, all the pieces began to click into place.

              FFMC is a group of “senior clubs.”  Unlike a professional organization, parents of students and music lovers in the community are allowed to join, along with the independent music teachers, which greatly increases your volunteer pool as you try to spread the love and appreciation of music and support music education in your communities. 

              Each teacher in the local senior group was supposed to organize her students into a junior club.  My teacher, whom I later discovered had been a State President of FFMC, did exactly that.  Here is the genius of that plan—you are growing your own replacements, teaching them what the organization is about, making them as useful as possible in whatever capacity they can manage at their various ages. 

            Unfortunately, few teachers did anything more than put their students’ names on a roster so they could take advantage of the privileges of membership.  Responsibility was never taught. And worse, the senior division, all the way to state level, did not use their younger members, even though they held “state elections.”  My son Nathan, who was also my student, was elected state president of the junior division in his senior year of high school, but I had to suggest, recommend, and finally push for him and his fellow officers to be used as real members.  No one had ever thought of that, which is probably why I did not at first recognize FFMC years later.  No one had taught me the ropes.  As a student I was a member in name only.

              The same thing happens in the church.  We look at our young people and call them “the future of the church,” and then sit back and assume that someday in that future they will “grow up in all things unto him” (Eph 4:15). 

              Here is the problem:  We treat baptism like flea dip for our dogs.  We get our children wet and say, "Whew!  Got rid of all those sins, now they're safe."  But Romans tells us that when we are baptized, we are raised to walk a new life.  Something has changed.  Do they know that?  Can young children even articulate what needs to change about themselves?

              Jesus says you don’t make a commitment to Him until you count the cost.  Have we helped them count the cost of discipleship to the Lord?

              Colossians tells us that we are raised from baptism to "walk with him."  "Walk" means a lifetime not a moment.  Are they old enough to even comprehend that sort of commitment?

              1 Corinthians 12 says baptism makes them “members of the body” (I Cor 12:13).  If they aren’t ready to be working members, committed servants who put others before themselves, then they aren’t ready to be baptized.
If all we teach them is that they must be baptized or they can't go to Heaven, all we have done is terrorize them, and shame on us.  It is simple to indoctrinate a child well before he is able to count the cost of changing his life, make a lifetime commitment and actually begin serving.  The New Testament knows nothing of junior members in the church; babes, yes, but even babes participate in on-the-job training, and most of the "babes" we see in the New Testament are physically adults.  This is the point:  Either they are members or they aren't according to Corinthians.  Consider the following.

            A working member does more than read the Scripture and pass the plates.  For one thing, what about the young ladies?  These young people may not have the deep knowledge and wisdom to participate in every aspect of the work, but they should all be able to serve the Lord’s body.  Teach them how and expect it of them.  Or else do not baptize them.

              Take them visiting with you—the sick, the lonely widows, even the bereaved.  If you don’t think your child can handle that, then think again about whether he was really mature enough to commit.  Have them help clean the houses and do the yard work for those who no longer can.  Keith had a stroke one year in the middle of leaf season.  Half a dozen young high school men came to our home—a thirty mile drive—and raked all morning.  Another group helped unpack when my mother moved, and another helped clean.  They were thrilled to help, returning to me again and again with, “What should I do now?”  These young people are obviously ready to serve.

              Teach them to take responsibility for their own Bible study.  That’s what a committed disciple does.  Expect them to not only do their class lessons without being told, but to develop personal study habits.  If you always have to remind them, are they really as devoted to the Lord as their baptism should have shown them to be?  If you are making excuses, especially in regard to their age, then once again you may be admitting that all you did was scare your child to death, not make them dedicated disciples.

              Take them to the extra Bible studies with you.  I do run a Tuesday morning Bible class for the women, but I also hold one on the third Sunday afternoon of the month for those who have secular jobs or other daytime commitments—like high school and college.  I have had teenagers as young as sixteen take part.  They do their lessons and comment almost as freely as the older women. 

              Turning your baptized offspring into working members will also do this for you—if I expect to teach my child what it means to be a member of the Lord’s body, I need to be showing them how myself.  Nothing made me a better Christian than having that red, wrinkled, squirming infant placed in my arms.  The same thing should happen when your child becomes a babe in Christ. 

              And speaking of babies, do you know why we have adult infants in the church?  Because we scared the innocent to death instead of teaching them early enough about conversion, service, and commitment.  There may be no better way to ensure the demise of the body of Christ than turning it over to the coddled who were taught that baptism was only about escaping Hell.

              Don’t call your young people by that unscriptural term, “the future of the church.”  Either they are members of the body or they are not.  Prepare them.  As the old saying goes, the future is now.
 
For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether bond or free; and were all made to drink of one Spirit. 1Cor 12:13

And all that believed were together, and had all things common; and they sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, according as any man had need. And day by day, continuing steadfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread at home, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved. Acts 2:44-47
 
Dene Ward

Coming up on twelve years ago I had to make an appointment with a world famous eye surgeon at the Cincinnati Eye Institute.  He did not have an opening for two months.  Unfortunately, my problem was time sensitive.  Too late and I would lose one or both eyes.  They told us not to despair but to call every week, and the very next week a cancellation had made a vacancy two days later.  It was a madhouse here trying to get ready for that long trip on such short notice, but it was important and we made it.  And that vacancy gives me a springboard for today's thought.

            Jesus told a parable once about a man giving a great banquet (Luke 14).  After his servants sent out the invitations, people began to make excuses.  “Sir, we have done as you commanded and still there is room,” the servants told the man (v 22).  And so others were invited to fill the vacancies.  In fact, the man rescinded the original invitations altogether.  “For I tell you that none of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet” (v 24).

            Pay special attention to the fact that none of the excuses were about sinful things.  They were simply about everyday life.  It isn’t wrong to get married.  It isn’t wrong to buy property.  It isn’t wrong to take care of your business, whether farming or manufacturing or accounting or sales.  What makes the Lord angry is placing those things above him.  Immediately after that parable, he talks about people loving family more than him.  He does not tolerate that either.

            And please note this:  The banquet may be free, but it is not without cost, his next subject (v 28).  Family, in fact, may be one of those costs.  Jesus adds that self is the biggest cost—“Whoever does not bear his own cross, cannot be my disciple” (v 27).  You must understand that when you bear your cross you are on the way to your crucifixion, your death.  It has nothing to do with bearing some disability or illness or low lot in life.  Those things are not voluntary; they happen to people regardless their affiliation, or lack of, to the Lord.   No, Christians choose to carry their crosses, to crucify themselves, for his sake.  “I have been crucified with Christ.  It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me” (Gal 2:20).

            We sing a song, “There is room in the kingdom for the small things you can do.”  That songwriter understood the cost--service.  We may partake to the full of his mercy and grace, but we are expected to serve because we have become disciples of a greater Servant.  The room available is not for the lazy or the selfish.  Neither is it for those too proud to accept help when needed—that is how they serve, by crucifying their pride. 

            God has room for us--plenty of room.  He wants us to dwell with him forever, beginning here and now.  In fact, if we excuse ourselves from living with him now, on the day when it really matters, when we need an eternal room, all we will see is a sign in his window, one especially for those who refused his invitation in this life, one that says, “No Vacancy.”
 
There is none like God…who rides through the heavens to your help, through the skies in his majesty. The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms, Deut 33:26,27.    
 
Dene Ward

It was popular in 1978 and I still remember it after nearly 40 years.  Not an original part of the musical “Grease” the song, sung by Olivia Newton-John, was added during the filming, even though the producers were not crazy about it.  Eventually it won a Grammy and was nominated for a Best Song Oscar:  “Hopelessly Devoted to You.”

              I wonder what all those starry-eyed, romantically inclined teenagers would think if they knew what God meant when He wanted you to “devote” something to Him.

              Behold, I will send for all the tribes of the north, declares the LORD, and for Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylon, my servant, and I will bring them against this land and its inhabitants, and against all these surrounding nations. I will devote them to destruction, and make them a horror, a hissing, and an everlasting desolation. Jer 25:9

              Jerusalem was to be “devoted” and that meant “destroyed.”  And no, it’s not a onetime use of the word.

              But you, keep yourselves from the things devoted to destruction, lest when you have devoted them you take any of the devoted things and make the camp of Israel a thing for destruction and bring trouble upon it.   Then they devoted all in the city to destruction, both men and women, young and old, oxen, sheep, and donkeys, with the edge of the sword.  And they burned the city with fire, and everything in it. Josh 6:18, 21, 24

              Jericho was “devoted” to God by fire.  It was totally destroyed.  When Achan “took of the devoted thing” he was stealing from God.

              So here’s the question for today.  How do I devote myself to God?

              We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. Rom 6:6

              I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Gal 2:20

              And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. Luke 9:23

              The cross you bear is not some illness or disability or trial you go through.  Most of those things just happen to us.  Jesus is talking about something you do voluntarily, and everyone knew that if you saw a man carrying a cross he was on his way to his death.  Jesus says you kill that old man, crucify him, daily.  Then and only then can you be “hopelessly devoted” to him.
 
Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Col 3:5-10
 
Dene Ward

I grew up in Tampa.  I learned to drive down Busch Blvd when there were actually empty, weedy lots between Temple Terrace and Florida Avenue.  I drove on I-75 with a learner’s permit, what is now I-275, and even into downtown Tampa where my eye doctor had his office in a 20 story “skyscraper”—by Florida standards anyway.  I drove down 75 past Howard and Armenia to shop at the only mall in town, Westshore Plaza, in an era when sometimes you wouldn’t see more than 3 other cars on your side of the interstate.  Yes, it was a long, long time ago.
 
             I took Driver’s Ed at King High School.  They had a little driving course in the back of the school.  A two lane “street” painted on a parking lot with stop signs, yield signs, diagonal parking, and pylons for practicing parallel parking.  I could drive that course without a hitch and usually even managed to parallel park without crushing a pylon.

              But we never practiced U-turns.  So one day after I had passed my exam and had my own brand new driver’s license complete with the requisite peon-home-from-working-the-field picture, I was headed west on Busch Blvd and realized I had passed my turn-off.  Time for my first U-turn.  I pulled into the left lane and patiently waited for the traffic on the other side to clear.  It may have been years ago, but traffic was not kind that day.  Those cars were spaced just so that I had to wait far longer than if it were a normal left turn.  I knew I needed time to straighten out the car and get back up to 45 mph before any oncoming traffic reached me.

              Finally there was a break, just barely big enough for me to maneuver, if I hurried.  So I spun that wheel hard to the left and pulled out and hit the gas.  My little Mustang made it to the far right lane before completely turning, but almost immediately I was in trouble.  I had kept the wheel turned too long.  The tires screeched as I crossed back over all three lanes and was headed for the median.  Even though I needed to let go of the steering wheel I couldn’t.  I had thrown myself nearly into the passenger seat and was hanging on for dear life.  Thoroughly panicked, I finally let loose enough for the wheel to slide between my hands and allow the car to straighten.  I took my foot off the gas and shifted back into the seat just in time to miss the median and straighten myself out in the left lane.  No one and nothing was hurt but my pride.  I slunk in the seat as the oncoming traffic caught up and passed me, hoping no one I knew had seen that.

              That’s what a lack of experience will do for you.  I was old enough to drive.  But I had never performed that maneuver before, and had probably never paid enough attention to my parents as they did.  “It’s just a longer left turn,” I thought.  No, it’s a bit more than that.

              U-turns in life can be difficult too.  I have seen so many young people completely disillusioned because they thought making those U-turns after their baptism would be a cinch.  Now that I’ve turned my life over to God I won’t feel those temptations any more, they think.  I will suddenly be a changed person, able to live perfectly from here on in.  Once again a lack of experience is showing.

              We can be forgiven from our sins, but very often the consequences are still there to live with.  That can mean things as difficult as serving jail time or fighting addiction or dealing with people we have hurt physically or emotionally.  It can also mean the urges of a besetting sin.  You will still have to work on it.  You may need to change not just your life, but your schedule and your friends in order to see a difference.  The same things that tempted you before will continue to tempt you, and the Devil will try even harder because he thinks he might have lost you.  Why work on the ones who are securely under his belt?

              Tell your children these things.  Tell that neighbor you are trying to convert.  If they are not prepared for reality, they may lose hope.  But also tell them that now they will have help, help that can strengthen them enough to overcome anything—not necessarily easily, but certainly.  Help that understands what you are going through and will bear with you as you learn and grow with experience.  You may throw yourself across the highway the first time or two, but eventually you will learn to navigate the roads of life, and those U-turns will become easier to make. 

              And, if you have been “raised in the church,” you may find that the U-turns you need to make are of a completely different sort.  It is all too easy when you have never been involved in what we call “the big bad sins” to look down one’s nose on those who came from that background and judge them unworthy because they still struggle.  That is the U-turn you must make:  away from a judgmental attitude toward compassion, the same compassion Jesus showed for an adulterous woman, a thieving publican, and a convicted criminal.  Your U-turn may be the most difficult of all, but he still expects you to make it.
 
But [I] declared first to those in Damascus, then in Jerusalem and throughout all the region of Judea, and also to the Gentiles, that they should repent and turn to God, performing deeds in keeping with their repentance. Acts 26:20
 
Dene Ward

I am certain that every Bible class teacher in the whole world has had this happen to them.  You reach a subject that you know applies to one or more people in your audience personally.  You know they need to hear this.  So you carefully lay it out in a way that cannot be missed or denied.

            Say you are teaching the story of Lydia and you reach that passage that seems innocuous, yet is anything but. 

            And after she was baptized, and her household as well, she urged us, saying, "If you have judged me to be faithful to the Lord, come to my house and stay." And she prevailed upon us, Acts 16:15.

            You know there is someone who regularly calls the preacher, deacons, and elders and tells them what they need, expecting everyone to be at their beck and call, or who takes them to task for not doing as much as she thinks they should (as if she were the only qualified judge of such things).  Meanwhile, this same person has yet to ever offer service to anyone else in the congregation.  Instead she judges the entire congregation on how well she is served. 

            So you make the point clearly:  Even a new Christian like Lydia, a brand new babe in Christ, could tell that her own faithfulness to the Lord was based on how often she served others, not on how often she was served by others.  And why shouldn’t it be, when the Lord she claimed to be serving was a servant himself?

            You hope to see the dawning light, and perhaps downcast eyes as that student realizes her error.  But no, there she is nodding vigorously, perhaps even saying, “Exactly!”  Your heart sinks because you know your efforts were in vain.  Instead of examining herself, she is still examining the church.  She is thinking, “Those people needed this, because they don’t serve like they should.”

            It doesn’t matter the subject.  It probably happens in every class and with every sermon in every church.  Meanwhile, the folks who knock themselves out trying to be what the Lord expects them to be sit there wondering, “Do I do enough?”

            So here is the thought for this morning.  Stop judging everyone else.  Think about yourself, for this is one area where it is not only allowed to be a little egocentric, but required.  Don’t say, “They needed that.”  Instead, say, “I needed that.  Now how can I get better?” 

            Whatever the subject, even if you think it has absolutely nothing to do with you or your life, think about yourself.  It is not my business to fix everyone else; it is only my business to fix myself.  It is not my business to decide what everyone else needs to do; it is only my business to realize what I need to do.  I must constantly ask myself, Did I need that?  I know I did, somehow, even if it is not yet obvious to me.  That only means I need to look harder. 

            Every lesson I hear, every sermon I listen to, should have me thinking, “How can I use this to become a better disciple of my Lord?”
 
They began to be sorrowful and to say to him one after another, "Is it I?"  Mark 14:19.
 
Dene Ward