"There is room in the kingdom of God, my brother for the small things that you can do; just a small, kindly deed that may cheer another is the work God has planned for you.
Just a cup of cold water in His name given, may the hope in some heart renew; do not wait to be told, nor by sorrow driven to the work God has planned for you.
There's a place in the service of God for workers who are loyal to Him and true; can't you say to Him now, "I will leave the shirkers, and the work Thou hast planned I'll do."
There is room in the kingdom, there's a place in the service, in the kingdom of God for you. There is room in the kingdom, there’s a place in His service, and there is a work that we all can do. "
--- J.R Baxter, Jr.

              I am going out on a limb with this one.  It could very well be just a coincidence, but I learned a long time ago that hymn writers often have a far better grasp of the scriptures than I do, especially things in the prophets.  So here goes.

              Look at the first line of the hymn above.  Do you see that phrase "the small things?"  We have a tendency to make judgments about how big or little things are, and therefore, how important they are.  We even talk about big and little sins, as if making ours less important will do anything but make it even more impossible to recognize the need to repent.  But the point of this hymn is the same point Paul made in 1 Corinthians 12—we are all important for what we can do, no matter how we may judge our abilities or the abilities of others.  Paul wasn't the first one to make that point.

              For whoever has despised the day of small things shall rejoice, and shall see the plumb line in the hand of Zerubbabel...” (Zech 4:10).

              Maybe this isn't the passage the lyricist had in mind, but just maybe it is.  The exiles who returned from Babylon rapidly became discouraged as they built the new Temple.  Yes, they had opposition, but that wasn't all of it.  Some of the very old remembered the first Temple, the magnificent edifice Solomon built.  This feeble attempt to replace it didn't even come close. 

              ‘Who is left among you who saw this house in its former glory? How do you see it now? Is it not as nothing in your eyes? (Hag 2:3)

              But many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers' houses, old men who had seen the first house, wept with a loud voice when they saw the foundation of this house being laid, (Ezra 3:12).

              But God through Zechariah told them their judgment was faulty.  The small things lead the way to the larger, more glorious things.  Without the small things, you will never achieve the great things.  Ellicott says the "interrogative sentence is practically a prohibition:  'Let none despise the day of small things.'"

              Zechariah is full of Messianic passages.  The Temple they built in that time was obviously the precursor to the spiritual Temple the Messiah would build—Mt. Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, the general assembly and church of the firstborn, the kingdom "that cannot be shaken" (Heb 12:18-28).  But none of that would have happened if the small things hadn't been done first.

              And so today, in that glorious kingdom, if all we can do are "small things," let no one despise them.  God can make use of whatever meager attempts we make to serve.  One phone call, one kind word, one card in the mail, may keep a faltering soul from giving up.  One example set on a day when we are weary and wondering if it is all worth it, may be the example that sets someone else on the right path.  One meal when a mother is ill, one mended tear on a shut-in's blouse, one visit to a widow noticed by her wayward family member may be the impetus for the return of the prodigal.  It is not up to me to decide what service is too small and despise it by refusing to do it.  God is the judge, and he rejoices in the day of small things.
 
His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.’ (Matt 25:21)
 
Dene Ward

When I was a child I learned quickly that meeting with the saints was more important than anything else I might like to do at the given time.  My earliest memories of our faith are sitting in my mother’s lap while my Daddy led the singing, and then sitting on the front pew with him when my little sister came along and usurped my throne.  On Sunday and Wednesday we went to services.  Every night of every gospel meeting we went to services.  Every time the people of God met together, we met with them, and neither convenience, nor school functions, nor social gatherings of any kind got in the way.  As soon as we found out there was a conflict, there wasn’t one, because my parents taught us that nothing and no one was more important than God. 

              Nowadays it has become fashionable to not only dismiss the assemblies as unimportant, but to talk about anyone who thinks they are as “Sunday morning Christians” at best, and Pharisaical hypocrites at worst.  That was not true in my family.  In my house at least, the assemblies were object lessons:  if you won’t do this easy thing for the Lord, will you ever do anything more difficult? 

              My parents lived their lives the rest of the week as godly servants of others, visiting the sick, cooking and carrying food to those who needed it, showing hospitality, sending financial support to preachers in need, buying supplies for poor churches they had heard about, and keeping themselves pure from the worldliness that surrounded them, even when it made them unpopular with their extended family, neighbors, and co-workers.  And they also taught their children to follow in their steps, children who have now taught 9 grandchildren, beginning early on, that gathering with God’s people is important.  All the accountable ones are faithful Christians seven days a week.

              Do you think God’s people have ever thought that the assembly rituals were the only thing there was to their religion?  The Law of Moses was intricately bound up in the everyday lives of God’s people.  It wasn’t just “Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy,” and nothing else.  Sacrifices were required for various times in their lives, the birth of children, death in the family and other times of uncleanness, sin offerings, and thanksgiving other than the mandated feast days.  Harvest time meant remembering to leave the corners and the missed crop behind for the poor.  It meant time for tithing the increase.  The Law pervaded their lives and these things were done any and every day of the week. 

              Even in Jesus’ time the people led lives of worship.  The Pharisees fasted twice a week, not on the Sabbath but on Monday and Thursday, ordinary weekdays.  Jewish families lined the doors and walls of their houses with scriptures—the original post-it notes.  Their lives revolved around the feast days, which demanded making extensive travel plans and saving money for the trip all year long.  They had rabbis in their homes to ask them questions and hear them teach.  That’s how Jesus often wound up among them.  

              All these people worshipped throughout the week, but it wasn’t the instant cure for hypocrisy some seem to think, was it?  Many of those labeled hypocrites by the Lord looked down on others for not being as enlightened as they were.  Sort of like folks today who think they are better than anyone who dares utter the phrase “Sunday worship service.”

              Perhaps these people should get off their high horse and follow the Lord’s example.  Even if they don’t think the assemblies are important, Jesus did.  Where was the first place we find him seeing to “His Father’s business?”  He met with God’s people in the synagogues all the time, and synagogue worship was only a tradition, not something included in the Law.  He attended the feast days, including the one which was simply a civil holiday.  He taught the apostles to do the same.  Paul went to the synagogues expecting to find there the best prospects for the gospel—imagine that!  Too bad some of our more informed brethren couldn’t be there to teach him better.

              Of course Sunday morning isn’t all there is to it.  God never meant it to be, but don’t become an unrighteous judge of people who believe it is important.  That’s how a lot of us learned about serving God, not only by being there for the Bible study, but by putting it first over every other worldly thing in our lives, even if they weren’t sinful things.  Babes must crawl before they can run. 

               Hebrews commands us to consider one another to provoke one another to love and good works.  That’s what we do when we meet together.  It isn’t love to look on your brethren with contempt, and that’s what I am seeing in these prideful attitudes of instant dismissal when anyone speaks of our gatherings as “worship.” 

              Seems to me, someone needs to be provoked a little more.
             
Acts 1:13,14; 2:1; 2:42; 2:46; 6:1-3; 14:27; 20:7; 1 Cor 5:4; 11:17-28; all of chapter 14; Heb 10:23-25—the reasons we gather.  I will let you choose the one you think is most important.  Better yet—read them all.
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have heard it too.  “God wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”

              We have completely misunderstood the purpose of God when we think our happiness here has anything to do with it.  If it is possible, I believe he wants it so, but if it isn’t, if I have gotten myself into a fix that cannot be unraveled, if my being miserable in this life will accomplish his purpose, I know which matters more to him.  He is in the position to see the end, while I am stuck here seeing only the here and now and, far too often, neither learning from the past nor considering the future.  God knows what is best, and what is best is eternal salvation—the next life, not this one. 

              God has been saying this for thousands of years, but just like the ones who did not want to hear what Jesus had to say about his kingdom, we don’t want to hear what God has had to say about our physical lives. 

              Think of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others who suffered long and hard to accomplish their missions.  Think of Josiah who, because of his diligence in restoring the worship of Jehovah among his people, was given the reward of an early death—he would not have to see their punishment.  Think of John the Baptist who lived a short life precisely because God wanted it that way.  He had accomplished what was necessary—preaching repentance and preparing the people for the Messiah.  That mattered more than living a long, “happy” life.   He even came to realize it when he told his disciples, “He must increase and I must decrease.”  In this case, his “decrease” meant he had to be removed so the conflict, and even the jealousy, between his disciples and Jesus’ disciples would disappear.  Imagine what that would have done to God’s plan.  God used the machinations of a wicked woman to do it, but his purpose was accomplished, and John, the greatest ever born at the time (Matt 11:11), never had a normal “happy” life. 

              When did Paul say that David died?  Not after he got old and had lived a full life, but after “serving the purpose of the Lord,” Acts 13:36.  That’s what he was here for, and nothing else.  If you could talk to him now, I bet you he would say that the sorrows he bore were well worth it. 

              Paul makes a distinction between walking “in the flesh” and “according to the flesh,” 2 Cor 10:2,3.  He talks about people who make decisions “according to the flesh,” 1:17; he mentions those who live their entire lives not as people interested in their spiritual lives, but only in their physical lives, 1 Cor 3:1-3.  We may have to live as physical beings, but God expects us to keep our minds on the spiritual not the physical; on his purpose, not our selfish aims; on the eternal, not the temporal. 

              It is not my plans that matter.  Do I think that because I was only a Eunice I had no hand in the salvation of the souls Timothy’s preaching produced?  Do I think that because I was a Zebedee I had nothing to do with what my sons accomplished for the kingdom?  Those two people certainly fulfilled an important part of God’s plan.  To have tried to have been something other than they were because of their own selfish ambitions would have been to second guess God’s plan.

              Sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Sometimes God does want us to be unhappy in this life, if it means the salvation of souls.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain unmarried if they have ruined their chances for a scriptural marriage.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain in miserable marriages as long as possible.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain celibate if their “natural” tendency is to gravitate toward a sinful relationship.  Yes, he does mean for some to spend years of their lives paying society for their crimes even though they have repented.  Yes, he does mean for us to give up our life plans for the sake of his Eternal Plan.  Yes, he does mean for us to suffer illness and die, to be victims of accidents and calamities and perish, “for time and chance happen to all.”  If I think being happy in this life on this earth is the aim, I have missed the point of my existence altogether. 

              So whether or not I become blind in this life, whether you live long or die early, whether your marriage is good or bad, whether you feel fulfilled in your chosen occupation, none of those is the issue.  The question is, what can I do for God?  What can I do for others?  What can I do to ensure my own soul’s salvation?  Until I can accept God’s plan for me with joy, especially when it is something I do not want and had not planned on, I am not yet living the attitude “thy will be done.”
 
For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, Rom 14:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

The last time we went to visit, four year old Judah made up a game.  He had a pile of "buddies" (mainly stuffed animals) out in the family room and picked up two.  These he carefully carried behind his back as he walked across the floor.  As he reached what must have been a predetermined point in his little mind, he suddenly dropped the two buddies, one at a time. 

              "Drop one, drop two," he said.  Then he turned around and looked.  Number two was placed in a "keep" pile, while number one was discarded across the room.  Then he picked up two more and did it again.  Before long he had two piles, each half the size of the one he began with.  Then he started the process all over again with the "keep" pile, adding yet more to the discard pile and leaving a smaller "keep" pile.  He did this several times until he had finally whittled it down to two buddies.  When he finished, he looked at the buddy who had "won" the game—the final "drop two" buddy.  He was not entirely pleased, so he gathered all the buddies from both piles together and started over again.

              This time, instead of carrying the buddies behind his back where, I suppose, he couldn't always remember which hand held what, he carried them in front of him.  He could see exactly who he was dropping when.  Occasionally he even hesitated before deciding which to drop first, the buddy which would then be discarded altogether.  Because he could see what he was doing, he was happy with the end result, which was Lucky the Tiger, his favorite.  Obviously, he had rigged the game.

              I began thinking about how he had made his choices.  If one was his brother's buddy and the other was his, his brother's was the first to go to the discard pile.  If one were a newer buddy, and the other an old favorite, the newer one fell victim to "Drop one."  Once he had culled it down to only his old favorites, life became a little more difficult.  In fact, the third time through the game, Leo the blankie actually displaced Lucky the Tiger.

              Now let's put feet on this little story.  Do we ever do the same thing?  Yes, we adults have been known to determine Truth not by what the scripture says but by who says it.  Did Brother Big Name Preacher say this, or some poor old nobody you never heard of?  Did my best friend in the congregation take this side and the guy I can hardly tolerate take the other?  Is this the view my blood family takes while someone I am not related to takes that one?

              Or maybe we make our choices based on how it affects us.  Would this view mean I need to admit wrong and change my life and that other one leave me to live as I want to?  Would it mean that my parents died in sin and I just can't bear to think such a thing?  Would it mean I need to disfellowship my good friends?  Would it mean my children are no longer considered faithful Christians, so I just won't consider the possibility that this scripture actually means that at all.  I've known more than one preacher whose views on divorce and remarriage changed when family was suddenly involved.  Honestly considering the scriptures with rational, logical thought had nothing to do with it.

              Our first allegiance is supposed to be to God and His revealed Word, not family, not best friends, not famous people or those with more wealth or status.  We are not four years old.  We are supposed to have matured enough to make the hard decisions regardless the fallout.  "Drop one, drop two" is not a meaningless game with God.  He watches who and what you drop and why.  He knows how to play the game too, and He will not let His love for sinners influence His decisions about who to drop first if they refuse the Truth.
 
​Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. (Matt 10:37)
​If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:26)
 
Dene Ward         

There has always been an "In Crowd".  I'm not sure exactly how it starts but by middle school—junior high in my day—it's in full bloom.  It doesn't stop there.  It continues into adulthood—in colleges, in neighborhoods, in work forces, anywhere people congregate.  Adults, mind you, who are still judging people by the same immature standards they did as children.  If you are different in any way from their "ideal," if you act differently—too quiet or too obvious—if you dress differently, if you are too intelligent or not intelligent enough, if you speak differently, and especially if you look different, if you have a health problem and especially if that problem makes your behavior, speech, or appearance different from others, you are not and never will be part of the In Crowd.  It's just another form of bigotry.

              And here is the saddest truth of all:  it even exists among the Lord's people.  When people began to follow Jesus in earnest, the scribes and Pharisees—the In Crowd of the day—said, "This multitude that does not know the law [like we do] is accursed" John 7:49.  It really had nothing to do with the Law, but everything to do with their traditions and the power they wanted to wield as the elite.  They had nothing but contempt for the people they were supposed to be leading.

              In their day it was a matter of status and power and wealth.  When Jesus' preaching ripped them to shreds and left the common people feeling the hope and joy of acceptance by God, he was signing his own death warrant.  When he ate with publicans, spoke to and accepted financing from women, taught Samaritans, healed lepers, the epileptic, and the demon-possessed, and forgave the vilest of sinners, he was announcing that he had no use for the superficiality of those who considered themselves God's gift to—well, God Himself.

              And it happens in the church too.  I've seen doctrinal matters decided not by scripture, but by who knows what Big Name Preacher, on which wealthier family believes what, or on who liked whose personality better—in short, on who was in the In Crowd.

              And just like in the world, it starts with the children.  If there was ever a group that should not have its share of "mean girls" (or boys), it's the disciples of a Lord who went out of his way to accept the ones who were outside looking in.  There's no excuse for us allowing our children to grow up thinking they can shun or ridicule someone who isn't "cool" or "pretty" or "fun," or who doesn't wear the latest styles, or like the coolest teen idols, or any other such shallow reason.  They will not outgrow it.  They will just turn into the adult version, just as shallow and sometimes just as mean.  Those adults will avoid speaking to and even do their best to avoid running into the ones who are not on the right list.  And those poor folks will sit alone at services, stand alone afterward, and, as a result, feel alone in the midst of a laughing and chattering crowd.

              You may not know it is happening.  Could I suggest that it might be because you are already in the In Crowd, too happy to even notice the others?  If we are to nip this in the bud, do this today:  Ask your child, "Is there anyone in your Bible class that you never talk to?  Anyone you will not sit next to?  Anyone you and your friends talk about and even laugh about?"  Then make sure they are telling you the truth.  (Joanne Beckley recently wrote a powerful post on how to tell if your child is lying to you.)  If they have sat in Bible classes long enough, they will know the right answers whether they are doing the right things or not.  But this is important and you need to make it clear to them.  If they are old enough to be baptized believers, tell them that such behavior is not following the steps of the Lord they claimed.  It is bigotry every bit as much as racism.  And it is not acceptable; it is sin.

              Then look at yourself and see if you are the one who taught them such behavior.

              When we persist in these things, we may be the ones who, on that last day, find ourselves on the outside looking in.
 
If you really fulfill the royal law according to the Scripture, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” you are doing well. But if you show partiality, you are committing sin and are convicted by the law as transgressors. (Jas 2:8-9)

Dene Ward

When we lived in another state many years ago, we had two hydrangeas, one flanking each side of the patio steps.  I loved those plants.  They took little care and for that meager effort produced huge balls of blue blooms all summer.  So I decided a few years ago to plant a couple here.

            I understand that there are white hydrangeas that are supposed to be that way.  They are often used in weddings, which seems appropriate and lovely.  But most hydrangeas are not supposed to be white.  Instead, the color of their blooms depends upon the pH of the soil.  If there is plenty of aluminum in the soil, you get blue blooms.  If aluminum is lacking, you usually get pink. 

            If you do not get the color you want, you can change it yourself.  Mix one tablespoon of aluminum sulfate per gallon of water and use it during the growing season.  (Be sure the plant is well-watered beforehand or you could burn your plants.)  If you prefer pink blooms, use dolomite.  I really don’t care if I get pink instead of blue, but I did not want white.  White is what I got.

            Some people can’t seem to make up their minds about serving God.   They show up on Sunday morning, but you would never know it if you saw them the rest of the week.  Their dress, language, recreation, and opinions match the world around them.  Like God’s people of old, they “fear the Lord, but serve other gods,” 2 Kings 17:21.  Instead of being either pink or blue, they try to be neutral, thinking it will help them get along with both sides.

            Jesus addressed their descendants in Matt 6:24—“You cannot serve two masters,” something we often try to do ourselves, giving our time and energy to the material and only the leftovers, if there are any, to the spiritual.  That is why our prayers are often useless.  We know we aren’t pink or blue, so we pray with “doubt,” like the “double-minded man, unstable in all his ways,” James 1:6-8.

            That wasn’t the end of passages I could find.  “How long will you go limping between two sides?” Elijah asked in 1 Kgs 18:12.  “Choose this day whom you will serve,” Joshua demanded, 24:15.  The Lord doesn’t want white hydrangeas any more than I do.  He wants people who can make a decision and stand by it, people who care enough to go all out, not just dabble.  We cannot be wishy-washy.  “If you aren’t with me you are against me,” he told the disciples, Luke 11:23. 

            One of my hydrangeas has finally developed a light blue tint.  Then I got my acid and alkaline colors mixed up and had Keith put hydrated lime on it.  So tomorrow it may turn pink.  But it really doesn’t matter—one or the other, pink or blue, just not white.  I didn’t plant it to get some neutral color, and that isn’t why God put us where He did either.
 
I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth. Rev 3:15-16
 
Dene Ward

George Washington is credited with creating the order of the Purple Heart.  It was actually called the Badge of Merit and was made in the form of a purple heart.  Only enlisted men were eligible to receive it.  The award ended with the Revolution.

              But the idea never died.  Finally on May 28, 1932, the Purple Heart we are now familiar with was first awarded.  It has been awarded since to all who were "wounded, killed, or died after being wounded" in battle.

              I remember people, including soldiers who received it, belittling the Purple Heart.  "All I did was get shot.  What's so brave about that?"

              Here's what:  You were brave enough to put yourself in the line of fire.  You were brave enough to risk your life.

              What if we gave Purple Hearts in the Lord's kingdom?  Who should get them?

              The preacher who dares to preach the unvarnished Truth to the church that pays his salary.

              The teenage Christian who dares to say, "No," in the face of constant peer pressure.

              The secretary who refuses to lie for her boss and risks losing her job.

              The Christian who doesn't shrink back into a corner when a certain subject comes up.

              The brother or sister who risks losing the goodwill of one who needs correction—not to mention his reputation with the church who takes up for the sinner.

              The one who risks being kicked out of the family by obeying the gospel.

              I am sure you can come up with others, and I invite you to do so in the comment section below.  But here is something for you to consider.  Sooner or later, every disciple of the wounded Savior ought to have a few Purple Hearts of his own.  How many do you have?
 
If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler. Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in that name. (1Pet 4:14-16)
 
Dene Ward

Wrens are known for building nests in odd places and we have a couple who have proven the point.  They can’t seem to help themselves when it comes to building nests.  And fast?  In less than an hour they are ready to set up housekeeping.   Anything that is left open and alone for that amount of time is fair game.

            We’ve found nests in boxes of empty mason jars in the shed, and on the lawn mower seat under its protective tarp.  We’ve found them on the bristles of the push broom which hangs upside down near the ceiling of the carport.  We’ve found them in roof gutters, and draped plastic sheeting.  We’ve found them in flower pots, tomato vines, and empty buckets.

            We usually buy dog food in 50 lb bags at the feed store and keep it stored in a large plastic garbage can in the shed.  We carry Chloe’s daily allotment in an old three pound coffee can, which we then shove sideways on the handlebars of the old exercise bike until the next day’s feeding.  Last month we found a wren’s nest in that can, obviously built after Chloe had been fed the day before, hanging precariously, rocking in the breeze. 

            Immediately Keith duct-taped it more securely to the handlebars so it couldn’t be blown or jostled off, and found another old can to use for Chloe’s feed.  It has become something of a joke now—remember to put up the [whatever] before the wrens find it.

            This doesn’t happen just once a year.  The mother wren incubates the eggs for about 2 weeks and then both parents feed them until they can fly, about two weeks later.  Often, the last few days of feeding, the father takes over completely so the mother can start another nest.  In our climate, they often build a third nest after that one.  They are like little nest-building machines—wherever they can, whenever then can.

            Isn’t that the way we should be about the gospel?  Too many times we’re out there making judgments about where to sow the seed instead of strewing it about everywhere we can.  We decide who will and who won’t listen and worse, who we deem “worthy” to hear.

            That certainly isn’t what Jesus did.  He taught dishonest businessmen and immoral women.  He taught the upper class and the lowest of the low.  He taught the diseased and the disabled, as well as the hale and hearty blue collar workers.  He taught people who wanted to hear and people who just wanted to make trouble for him.  Shouldn’t we be following his example?

            Too many times we worry about the reception we will get.  When Jesus sent out the seventy, he didn’t say, “If you don’t think they’ll listen, then shake the dust off your feet and go elsewhere.”  What he said was, “If they don’t listen,” which means everyone had a chance to decline if that is what they chose to do.  We can’t seem to stand the possibility of rejection, not an auspicious trait for disciples of the one who was “despised and rejected of men.”

            We should be like wrens, speaking about our faith anywhere, even the most unlikely places, to anyone, even the most unlikely people.  Over and over and over, like we can’t help ourselves, like our lives depended upon it, because maybe they do.
 
Therefore I testify to you this day that I am innocent of the blood of all of you, for I did not shrink from declaring to you the whole counsel of God.  Acts 20:26-27.
 
Dene Ward

Peter still didn’t get it.

            "Lord, do you wash my feet?"

            Jesus answered him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

            Peter said to him, "You shall never wash my feet."

            Jesus answered him, "If I do not wash you, you have no share with me."

            Simon Peter said to him, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!" (John 13:6-9)

            Typical Peter, we always say, always overdoing it.  No, he didn’t overdo it.  He didn’t go far enough, in fact.  None of them did.  Not a one of them said, “No, Lord.  We ought to be washing YOUR feet.”           

            It wasn’t that difficult a concept.  Two women had already figured it out, one identified as “a sinful woman” in Luke 7, and then Mary, Lazarus’s sister, in John 12. 

            One of those apostles should have said, “Why didn’t we think of that?” but none of them did, not even the three from that inner circle.  If ever they failed to show their understanding of who Jesus really was, it was that night in the upper room.  In fact, instead of serving him as Mary did a few days earlier, they all, not just Judas, resented the fact that so much was spent on that very gesture (Matt 26:8).

            But just a few weeks later—“afterward,” as Jesus had said--they did get it.  All of them, even that apostle born out of season, figured out what service and humility meant.  For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake, 2 Cor 4:5.  Paul and all the others except John were ultimately martyred in their service to the Lord, along the way serving others at huge costs.  They washed their Lord’s feet, not with water, but with their own blood.

            Do we get it?  Do we understand humility, or is saving face more important?  Can we give it all up for Christ, or do our opinions and think-sos matter more than the body for which he died?  Can we subject ourselves, our preferences, our goods, even our lifestyles to others for their souls’ sakes, 1 Cor 9:20-22? 

            I once spoke about subjection at a women’s meeting.  As I was giving an illustration one of the women spoke out loud for all to hear, “That’s where I draw the line.”  No, we were not discussing Acts 5:29 where such a statement would have been appropriate.  We were just talking about sacrificing for others.  Yet she wasn’t even embarrassed to say such a thing.  She obviously didn’t get it.   If she had been next to Peter that horrible night, she would have been happy to sit back and let the Lord wait on her, as long as the water wasn’t too hot and the towel was nice and soft.

            Consider this thought for a moment: what would I have done that night?  Would I have gone at least as far as Peter and the rest, and let the Lord wash my feet, learning the whole lesson eventually?  Or would I have already been there with my pan in hand, as those two other women had been, ready to wait on him and his disciples, anxious to show my devotion to my Lord and Master? 

            Now take it a step farther:  what am I willing to do today?  Am I willing to wash feet, not just with time, effort, and money, but with my own blood?  If we would draw a line anywhere, Satan will make sure we come face to face with that line sometime in our lives.
 
Then turning toward the woman he said to Simon, "Do you see this woman? I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet. You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.  Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven--for she loved much. But he who is forgiven little, loves little." And he said to her, "Your sins are forgiven." Luke 7:44-48.
 
Dene Ward
 

The garden is in full-production.  We purposefully planted over a dozen different kinds of seeds and that is the only reason those particular things are growing right now.  But not everything works that way.  We didn’t plant the grass or the dandelions or the oak trees.  We didn’t plant the dollar weed or the stinging nettles or the slash pines.  Yet somehow, whether the wind scattering puff balls or the squirrels burying pine nuts and acorns, or the coats of furry animals grabbing onto burrs and pods as sticky as Velcro and depositing them yards or even miles from the original plants, those seeds were sown.  Planting is not always on purpose.  Sometimes it’s accidental.

            God expects us to plant the seed of the Word, recycling what was put into us.  “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations,” Jesus said in Matt 28:20, followed immediately by, “teaching them to observe all things I have commanded you,” the first of which was to “Go make disciples.”  I am afraid we wait for personal evangelism systems to come our way before we even try; not realizing that we plant something every day, sometimes in spite of ourselves. 

            God has expected his people to teach the succeeding generations since the beginning.  Noah preached for 120 years while he built that ark, and achieved nothing, right?  No, he saved his family.  I have known preachers who were so busy preaching and holding personal Bible studies that they completely ignored the prospects in their own homes.  I have known Christians who expected the church to do their work for them, and then wondered what happened when their children fell away.  “Fathers raise your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord” (Eph 6:4), not churches, not Bible class teachers, not even mothers—FATHERS.  That’s where the buck stops with God.

            Churches are taught to pass the gospel along. If we behave ourselves as we ought, even our mere existence “makes known the manifold wisdom of God” to the world (Eph 3:10).  The teaching is internal as well. The older women are to train the younger, and the older men the younger men (Titus 2:2-8).  Preachers are told to train others to preach (2 Tim 2:2).  God expects his people to be farmers, planting the seed year after year, on purpose.  Yet we plant accidentally too.

            You plant it in your children every time they see you make an important decision.  You plant it in them every time they see you study your Bible and pray.  You plant it in them with home Bible studies, with family prayers, and even with your comments as you live your life.  Do they see thanksgiving or griping?  Do they hear love and appreciation of other Christians or backbiting and gossip?

            You plant it in your friends and neighbors when they see you in the car every Sunday morning without fail.  You plant it in them when they see how you handle the trials of life, or even the small nuisances.  You plant it in them when you lend a hand, even unasked.  You plant it in them when you say good things about your church family.  You plant it in them when you invite them to a Bible study or a group service.  What kinds of things do you bother to invite your friends to except the things that matter most to you?  . 

            Even when we think we aren’t, we are always planting.  Even fallow fields do not stay empty.  Grass, weeds, and even volunteer vegetables spring up untended.  “Fallow” doesn’t mean bare, it means unused or idle.  A fallow heart simply doesn’t care what comes up.  Sowing the seed is a little bit like setting an example—you do it whether you intend to or not.  You are planting something with every word and action.  Make sure it’s the gospel.
 
Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. Gal 6:7-9
 
Dene Ward