I hardly ever make a post on my personal Facebook page.  I have it so I can keep up with my children and have a separate page for this blog more than anything else.  I might post ten times a year and that's it.  Recently, I remembered why.
            I had spent the morning picking up groceries, steadily growing more and more alarmed at the price increases.  Finally a jar of mayonnaise took my breath away.  $8.62!!!  So I came home and made a humorous little post about needing to carry around smelling salts to revive myself every other aisle, hoping it might give everyone a chuckle, something sorely needed these days.  I should have known better.  My attempt at consolation turned into an argument about where one should and should not shop.
            A few years ago I wrote a blogpost about an old hymn whose words had been changed from the lyricist's original ones due to an editor not knowing his Bible, evidently.  I carefully explained the original words (and where I found them), and what they should mean to us.  I got a dozen argumentative replies that eventually deteriorated into an ongoing argument between various commenters (none of whom I knew).  After three years, the argument was still going strong with people checking in to add more vitriol to a debate about a hymn!  Something that should have been helpful, not a cause of strife.  So I deleted it.  It was no longer fulfilling its purpose, if it ever did after that first ugly comment.
            I am not sure what I am getting at today.  Maybe it's watching people miss the real point over and over and over on Facebook, on blog comments, in Bible classes, and everyone else jumping on the bandwagon to take the discussion off the rails into a chasm of futility that creates division instead of bonding us together in the same fight.  And so many of these people claiming to be Christians! 
           But then, they did it to Jesus, too.  How many times did a compassionate healing become an argument about their Sabbath rules?  How many times did a lesson on love and grace turn into a hate-filled diatribe?  How many times did a point offered for consideration become a point to misconstrue and argue about, even to make an unwarranted accusation about?  Why are we so quick to jump in with criticism?  Why do we think it is our God-given role to say, "Yes, but," and pontificate on the other side when it isn't the one that is most needed?  Why do we always think that we are the ones who can say it the right way and make everyone understand and that we know better than anyone else how to say something?  Some of us are drawn to arguments like a magnet.  As Paul told Timothy, some of us have an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions (1Tim 6:4).
            Maybe today I am just giving in to a weariness about the mess the world's in not just on Facebook, but everywhere we look--except when we look at our Lord, whose simple message can fix anything—if we let it.  Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Matt 11:28-29).
 
Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers (2Tim 2:14).
 
Dene Ward

The statements of Jesus are some of the most twisted and misused statements you will ever find.  I am sure you have instantly thought of "Judge not that you be not judged…" Oh, if that were the only one!
            How about this one?  Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith… (Matt 23:23).  Usually that is quoted when people think that the little things don't matter, that as long as we have good hearts (the "big thing"), we can do as we please otherwise.  But once again they are misusing the scripture.  In the first place, that is not the whole the verse.  Immediately after this, Jesus adds, but these you ought to have done and not left the other undone.  Jesus does not excuse us from following God's Word to the minutest detail—"these you ought to have done"—he simply stresses the larger matters.
            It is not that difficult to understand.  What would you say are the larger things a good husband should do?  Sexual faithfulness probably tops the list, especially since God makes that the one thing that can dissolve a marriage in His eyes (Matt 19:9).  But most women would probably add things like a responsible, mature provider, a good father, and certainly not an abuser.  All of those qualify as "the weightier matters", I think.
            But are there any little things you might like in a husband as well?  Remembering special days, especially anniversaries.  Maybe even remembering your favorite color or favorite flower.  You might find it especially endearing if he brings you a cup of coffee in bed every morning before he leaves for work, or brings home a hand-picked bouquet of wildflowers on an ordinary day, "out of the blue".  Certainly these are all small things, things most people would consider nice but unnecessary to a good marriage.  But what do those things say?  They say I love you, I care enough to remember things that are special to you, I will go out of my way to do something sweet for you—I have picked burrs off the slacks he wore when wading through those wildflower fields, but I didn't mind one bit!
            If that is how you feel about things that are small, what makes you think they mean any less to the God who created us and made us in His image?  Don't quote only half of Jesus' statements, twist them to mean something he did not, take them out of context, or any other of a half a dozen ways people do injustice to his words, for Jesus also says, the little things do matter.
 
Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commands and teaches people to do so will be called least in the kingdom of heaven… (Matt 5:19).

Dene Ward

It’s another Monday.  Am I ready for the week ahead?  If I assembled with my brethren yesterday, and our assembly accomplished the purpose God meant it to when he ordained it, I should be not only ready, bur “revved up and rarin’ to go.”
 
On a Monday, you ask incredulously?  Maybe you did not get out of Sunday what you were supposed to.  So what is the purpose of our assembling together?  It may not be what you have always thought. 
 
I think our best verse is good old Hebrews 10:25, only forget the way we always use it, shaking our fingers in the faces of those who miss services.  Start with the verse ahead:  let us consider one another to provoke to love and good works... exhorting one another... Too often we focus all our attention on the assembly as if that is the whole of our service to God.  What it should be is refueling, so we can go out and continue to serve during the week.  Romans 12:1 is key to understanding this: ...present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.  You probably have a version that says "spiritual service," but that word can also be translated "worship,” and sometimes is  The way I live my life, if I live it as and because God wants it, is a type of worship to God, not just those few hours a week.  By compartmentalizing our religion to a certain day, time, and place, we are giving God those lame sacrifices Malachi talks about in Malachi 1:8.  God expects our all, all the time--not just on Sundays.  And he has given us our brethren to encourage us and keep us on the right track when we meet together, provoking one another to love and good works as I go about the rest of the week.  “One another” means we are all doing it, not just the preacher.  Did you do your part to help someone else or did you just go to be entertained?
 
Somehow we think rituals are the only things that qualify as worship.  Many passages in the Old Testament mention the people praying, or singing, or sacrificing, and then "they worshipped," almost as if those other acts were not worship (e.g. 2 Chron 29:29,30).  And maybe there is a point there:  we can do all those things, at the "right time," in the "right place" (translation:  on a pew inside a building with a certain sign over the door), and still not be worshipping.  Worshipping is prostrating the heart before God, not the body, and he expects us to do that all day long, every day.
 
So am I ready to worship God again this week, all week?  If I refueled myself, drained out and changed the old dirty oil and filter, and vacuumed out the grime and dust of life, I should be able to serve God with all my might—whatever level that is in my stage of life at this particular time--and make it through another week in a world that should be foreign to my nature, instead of comfortable.  And then I will be anxious for another day of replenishment next Sunday, because the need will be so obvious to me.
 
Through him then let us offer up a sacrifice of praise to God continually but to do good and to communicate forget not;  for with such sacrifice God is well pleased.  Heb 13:15,16
 
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?  Are they even able to?
            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 they are able to count the cost of changing their lives, 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.  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 one way—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 all 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

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
 

And a certain man of the sons of the prophets said to his fellow at the command of the LORD, “Strike me, please.” But the man refused to strike him. Then he said to him, “Because you have not obeyed the voice of the LORD, behold, as soon as you have gone from me, a lion shall strike you down.” And as soon as he had departed from him, a lion met him and struck him down. Then he found another man and said, “Strike me, please.” And the man struck him—struck him and wounded him. So the prophet departed and waited for the king by the way, disguising himself with a bandage over his eyes. And as the king passed, he cried to the king and said, “Your servant went out into the midst of the battle, and behold, a soldier turned and brought a man to me and said, ‘Guard this man; if by any means he is missing, your life shall be for his life, or else you shall pay a talent of silver.’ And as your servant was busy here and there, he was gone.” The king of Israel said to him, “So shall your judgment be; you yourself have decided it.” Then he hurried to take the bandage away from his eyes, and the king of Israel recognized him as one of the prophets. And he said to him, “Thus says the LORD, ‘Because you have let go out of your hand the man whom I had devoted to destruction, therefore your life shall be for his life, and your people for his people.’”  (1Kgs 20:35-42).
            Have you ever come across that particular narrative before?  We tend to stick to the larger events, the nice ones where God defeats a huge army or Jesus does an amazing miracle.  This one stumps some of us with its Oriental methods of teaching.  We Americans tend to favor a straightforward approach—and then complain because someone dared to correct us.  But that is not my point today.
            Notice the first part of the story.  And a certain man of the sons of the prophets said to his fellow at the command of the LORD, “Strike me, please.” But the man refused to strike him. Then he said to him, “Because you have not obeyed the voice of the LORD, behold, as soon as you have gone from me, a lion shall strike you down.” And as soon as he had departed from him, a lion met him and struck him down.  I can sympathize with that first young man, can't you?  Who wants to strike a prophet of God, especially a fellow, and especially hard enough to wound him?  But that is exactly what God meant for him to do, whether he wanted to do it or not, whether he thought it a good thing to do or not, whether he was "comfortable" with it or not.  None of that matters when God tells you to do something.
            And so we may find times in our lives when God expects us to do the hard things.  Is it just too hard for you to discipline your adorable little children?  Is it too difficult to forgive someone who committed a grievous sin, perhaps even a crime under our legal system, against you?  Is it asking too much to remain unmarried when you have messed your life up so much that's it's too complicated to figure out who is the "innocent" party?  Jesus said, "Some make themselves eunuchs for the kingdom's sake" (Matt 19:12), so evidently he thought that's what one ought to do if necessary, and he would have applied that "ought" to anything else we might define as "too difficult."
              I have known several who have given up a whale of a lot more than I ever have.  They are truly servants of the Master while some of us just play at it and complain about even the least little sacrifices.  Our culture in general has lost that tough spirit of doing what has to be done, no matter how difficult it may be. "It's too hard," has become an excuse we actually think will matter when we come face to face with God.
            The second man did exactly as the prophet told him to and saved his own life.  Had he heard about the lion?  I don't know; it doesn't say.  But whether he had or not, YOU have.  And when you think something is too difficult a thing for God to ask of you ever, be on the lookout.  That lion may have already snatched your soul.
 
For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome (1John 5:3).
 
Dene Ward
 

It begins in September. 
            We keep watching the weather for hurricanes, but we also watch it for that first cold front.  If it comes too early, it will only be a day or two before the 90s in both temperature and humidity reappear, but at least we get a taste of the fall to come.  Here in Florida it is a big deal when the smothering blanket of heat finally lifts after five full months of sweltering, wondering if your makeup will melt before you get into the air conditioned building, trying to find a parking place in the shade so you can bear to sit on the seat and hold the steering wheel when you return, planning your shower around the last time during the day you think you will wind up looking like a dog caught in the rain.  Either that or take two or three showers a day.
            Then we anxiously keep an eye out in October.  Every single day, sometimes two or three times a day, we look at the forecast.  It's been known to change from hour to hour in these parts, we say, excusing our obsessive clicking on the NOAA forecast. 
            We begin looking at our sweaters, planning which to wear next Tuesday, assuming that front comes before then.  We paw through the pantry stacking up the tea bags, international coffees, and hot chocolate packets leftover from last year when, in our overconfident glee, we bought way too much.  We split some fat lighter for fire starters and set them beside the fire pit along with a fresh stack of firewood.  We split another bucketful to sit next to the back door for the wood stove inside.  We comb the grocery ads, looking for specials on chili beans and saltines, stew beef and vegetables, and that head of cabbage that we learned long ago was absolutely necessary for an excellent pot of minestrone.
            Yes, we get anxious down in these parts.  Maybe they do in other places too, but the Deep South has little enough cold, and Florida even less.  So we cherish it when it does come, and sigh when the winter is far too warm or leaves too quickly.  Yet even then, that first cold front is received with gratefulness and a huge sigh of relief.  The long hot summer is finally over.
            And that got me to thinking.  Is that the way we wait for the Lord?  We may not have a forecast to watch, not even a Farmer's Almanac.  But are we as anxious for this long hot trial we call life to be over as we are for the summer to disappear?  Do we watch for the Lord's return with impatience, even praying as John did, "Lord, come quickly?" (Rev 22:20)
            If you have been observant at all about this world, you can see where things are going.  It's about to become a harsh place for Christians.  We may soon, even in this country, be persecuted for our beliefs to the point of losing our possessions, our jobs, even our freedom.  I worry what my children, and especially my grandchildren will have to deal with.  Right now, the only relief I can see is the Lord coming to put an end to it all.
           If you are young, I know that you want to experience all the things we older folks have—a wedding day, a career, carrying a child and raising it, even seeing your grandchildren.  And perhaps we older folks have failed in teaching you to long for his return as we do.  After all, we wanted to live longer at your age too.  We wanted to do all those things our parents had done—and do it better, we were sure. 
          So please, as you age, try to teach your children what we may have failed to teach you.  Even if the world does not go in the direction I suspect it will, even if it becomes a wonderful place to live after all, it still cannot match the world to come, the one we should be hoping for and praying for every single day.
 
For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, if indeed by putting it on we may not be found naked. For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee. (2Cor 5:1-5)
 
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 view of the Law (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.
 
I myself will feed my sheep and I myself will make them lie down, declares the sovereign LORD. I will seek the lost and bring back the strays; I will bandage the injured and strengthen the sick, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them – with judgment! (Ezek 34:15-16)

And he went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction among the people. So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought him all the sick, those afflicted with various diseases and pains, those oppressed by demons, epileptics, and paralytics, and he healed them. And great crowds followed him from Galilee and the Decapolis, and from Jerusalem and Judea, and from beyond the Jordan. (Matt 4:23-25)
 
Dene Ward

Although I was not a particular fan of hers, I do remember when it happened.  Sometime around midnight, November 29, 1981, the actress Natalie Wood fell off a yacht and drowned.  She had had dinner with her husband Robert Wagner, and fellow-actor Christopher Walken earlier in the evening.  That meal involved drinking.  Back on the yacht the two men got into some sort of argument.  At a later time, Wagner admitted that he and Natalie had also gotten into an argument.  Around midnight, Wagner noticed she was missing and called for help.  She was found floating a mile from the boat off Santa Catalina Island, with a beached dinghy close by. A new investigation was opened in 2011, but nothing much came of it.  Her death is still a mystery.
            When you live in Florida, you hear of drownings quite often.  In fact, in places where there are none, you will see the sign above—No Lifeguard, Swim at Your Own Risk.  Usually, just beyond the sign, dozens of people splash around in the water, regularly going out to depths over their heads.  The risk to their lives bothers them not one wit.  The fun is worth it.
            Every summer my boys took the risk and I willingly allowed it.  We splashed in Blue Springs, Poe Springs, and Ginnie Springs.  We tubed down the Ichetucknee River from the spring head to just before the first bridge, pulling out and picnicking at the state park on tomato sandwiches and cold watermelon straight from the garden.  We even swam in the Santa Fe River and Oleno State Park while alligators sunned themselves on the opposite shore.  We weren’t the only ones who took the risks.  Everyone did, it seemed, because we were always standing in lines.
            For some reason, the risks involved in Christianity scare people much more.
            In life, it might mean sharing your life preserver with someone else, someone not as generous as you.  Turning the other cheek means you might very well be slapped again.  Going the second mile might mean being forced to go five or ten more.  Being willing to be defrauded to avoid casting aspersion on the body of Christ might mean losing money or worse, it seems, losing face.
            In our Bible study, it might mean swimming in the deep waters of profound thought, opening minds that are already made up, accepting nothing without personally verifying it, and challenging our thinking—perhaps even admitting we have been wrong about something and changing.  Scary indeed!
            In our conversion, it means having the faith to step out of the boat in the middle of a storm, and walk wherever the Lord leads us, with or without a beloved mate, a good friend, or various members of the family.
            Christians always put themselves at risk for their Lord’s sake.  It is not as if we were not warned.  He posts the sign Himself:  Swim at Your Own Risk.  But there is one difference—there is a Lifeguard when we take the plunge, one who has already given His life to save ours.  Why not enjoy the swim when we have that guarantee of safety?
 
And he said unto them, if any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whosoever would save his life shall lose it, but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it, Luke 9:23,24.

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.
            The recent political campaigns have 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?  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