We sit on the carport most spring mornings with a last cup of coffee, looking for the first sign of spring green in the trees, patting Chloe on the head, and planning our day.  This morning a light breeze ruffled my hair and I shrugged my shoulders against the bit of chill left from the last cold front that had blown through earlier in the week.  A light tinkle made my eyes wander up to the new wind chimes hanging above my head, not your ordinary bong-y wind chimes, but a delicate, more musical note that had gotten my attention the first time I heard them.
            I have a friend, a sister in Christ, who crafts these things herself from antique flatware and keys, glass jar lids, beads, and anything else she can find as she wanders through flea markets and small dusty shops.  Mine has all these beauties hanging from an antique silver salt cellar, something I must explain to anyone younger than 60.  All of her creations are beautiful and unique, and mine has that particularly melodious sound that made me choose it from its fellows.
            Outward beauty does not determine the sound that a wind chime produces.  It can only make the sounds that its various elements make.  You won’t get the same sound from iron bars that you will from silver and glass.  Ever do the trick with your glassware, pinging an empty one to see if it’s truly crystal or just ordinary glass?  That’s the way it is with wind chimes, and that’s the way it is with you and me.  A stony heart will not produce the same fruit as a soft one.  An iron heart will not act the same way a heart of gold will.
            You also know this:  the harder the wind blows, the louder the chimes.  When it seems like the storms of life blow us about the most, those are the times that what we are becomes most obvious.  Those are the times that people see what we’re made of.  Even if they don’t really care about the faith you may have tried to share, it becomes so obvious they cannot miss it.  The wind blows where it will, and you hear the voice thereof, but know not from where it comes, or where it goes; so is every one that is born of the Spirit, John 3:8.  People will not see the Spirit within you personally, but they will see its effects on you.  You cannot disguise whether or not you are filled with the Spirit of God.
            Today, think about this more important thing—you are God’s wind chimes.  People will not be satisfied with your appearance.  The point of the chimes is the sound they make.  What sound does the Wind produce in you?
 
And they that are in the flesh cannot please God. But you are not in the flesh but in the Spirit, if so be that the Spirit of God dwells in you. But if any man has not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his. And if Christ is in you, the body is dead because of sin; but the spirit is life because of righteousness. But if the Spirit of him that raised up Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he that raised up Christ Jesus from the dead shall give life also to your mortal bodies through his Spirit that dwells in you, Rom 8:8-11.
 
Dene Ward

The 1930s were famous for more than one disaster.  Besides the Great Depression they were also known as the Dirty Thirties.  Drought, over-farming, and over-grazing turned the once fertile land of the Great Plains into the Dust Bowl.  100 million acres of farmland were affected.  Dozens of massive dust storms blew through every year of that decade. 
            Those storms were far more dangerous than we realize.  All during that decade, schools were often closed to prevent "dust pneumonia" in those traveling back and forth.  If the children were already at school when a storm began, they were often kept overnight to keep them out of the filthy air. Cars drug chains behind them to ground them due to the high voltage static electricity that the dust caused and which led to several electrocutions.  People knew to sweep the dust off their roofs, but they forgot that dust seeps into cracks and many attics collapsed on the families beneath.
            After reading all that I knew that my incredibly dust-producing house was not as bad as I always thought.  Still, though, it is the dustiest place we have ever lived. A few weeks ago I got out the dust rags and the polish and went to work.  It had been over two months since I had dusted anything at all and it was showing, not just on the furniture, but in my nose and lungs—I have a dust mite allergy. 
            I knew it would take awhile and it did, dusting every flat surface and every item on them, including a large dinner bell collection, vases from Bethlehem and Nicaragua, and those porcelain bootee-shaped vases that flowers had come in when the boys were born, figurines inherited from grandmothers and great-aunts, a wooden airplane Keith’s grandfather whittled inside an empty bottle, candles, telephones, a small piano collection, a metronome, fan blades, jewelry boxes, and beaucoup picture frames.  I dirtied up four rags in an hour and a half, sneezed a couple dozen times, and required a decongestant in order to breathe the rest of the day.
            When I finished I looked around.  The pictures all reflected brightly in the wood they sat on, the porcelain shone, the candles looked a shade brighter, and the brass gleamed.  What a difference it made to dust things off.
            So what do you need to dust off in your life?   Sometimes we become satisfied with our place in the kingdom, happy with where we are in our spiritual growth, comfortable in our relationships with others and our ability to overcome.  Sometimes we sit so long in our comfortable spot, be it a literal pew or a figurative one, that we soon sport our own layer of dust.  Maybe we aren’t doing anything wrong exactly, we have just stopped stretching ourselves to be better and do more. 
            “Dusting off” seems a good metaphor for “renewal.”  Paul tells the Colossians we have “put off our old selves” (past tense) but that the new self is “being renewed” (present tense), Col 3:9,10.  Being renewed has not stopped and never should.  Every day is a new beginning for the child of God.  When we forget that, the dust starts to settle, and our light is dimmed with a layer of uselessness that builds every minute.  Soon, as the light weakens, no one will notice us, or is that the point?
            When did you last dust yourself off and get to work, “transforming yourself by the renewing of your mind?” Rom 12:2.  That layer of dust will build and build until it collapses on your unsuspecting spirit, giving you a case of dust pneumonia from which you may never recover.
 
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me, Psalms 51:10.
 
Dene Ward

     In the past few years we have noticed more than ever before that the most effective way to reach people is with the daily example of one's life.  You can ask people to study with you again and again and seldom get a positive response.  The only times we have had people ask us about our religion was after they had dealt with us on a regular basis and watched how we live, both in good times and under stress.
     So I have come up with something that ought to have been obvious years ago.  Let's just say I am a slow learner.  It's a question I should ask myself before I have any sort of dealings with someone who is not a Christian.  "After they see my actions and hear my words, especially in a touchy situation, could I turn around and invite them to church or would they laugh in my face?"  Actually, another question that might accomplish the same thing is, "Is a person's soul worth the inconvenience they have caused me, or the aggravation that has come into my life because of them?"  Anyone who doesn't know the answer to that has no idea what the Lord has given up for him. 
     So they got in your way in the grocery aisle and took forever to figure out which brand of ketchup to buy.  Is that person's soul worth the few minutes it cost me, or will ramming their cart and telling them to get out of the way actually make them think well enough of me to ask where I go to church?  So they cut me off in traffic.  Is that person's soul worth gracefully allowing them to take not only my place in the lane but the whole road if they want it?  So the waitress is slow and the cook not much quicker and she didn't get the order quite right.  Is her soul worth the inconvenience of waiting those few extra minutes and saying thank you when the order finally gets to you?  I guarantee you that a pleasant person will be an unusual occurrence in her day, maybe unusual enough for her to pick up the tract you left on the table with the tip and actually read it.  But would you have ever had that chance if you had ranted and raved like everyone else?  If how I act makes me ashamed to invite someone to our assemblies, surely I can see past my rationalizations exactly how badly my behavior reflects on the Lord and his body.  And if I find myself muttering, "He doesn't deserve my patience," that should be a smack in the face about God's grace toward me and how much I did not deserve that either.
     If you don't already, start training yourself to think before you speak, especially when things are unfair or wind up costing you time or even money.  It may not make a difference; in fact, it will seldom make a difference, but isn't a person's soul worth taking that chance?  If I have transformed myself to be like the Son of God instead of everyone else, I shouldn't even need to ask myself that question
 
And if any man would go to law with you, and take away your coat, let him have your cloak also.  And whosoever shall compel you to go one mile, go with him two.  Give to him that asks you, and from him that would borrow turn not away (Matt 5:40-42.
 
Dene Ward
 

God must have loved gardens.  That first garden was used as the ideal all through the scriptures, the utopia that everyone longed for.  The Messianic kingdom is referred to as the restoration of the Garden of Eden in Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel and other prophets. And the land that was desolate shall be tilled, instead of being the desolation that it was in the sight of all who passed by. And they will say, 'This land that was desolate has become like the garden of Eden, and the waste and desolate and ruined cities are now fortified and inhabited.' Then the nations that are left all around you shall know that I am the LORD; I have rebuilt the ruined places and replanted that which was desolate. I am the LORD; I have spoken, and I will do it. (Ezekiel 36:34-36).
            And why was Eden perfect? Everything man needed was in that first garden, trees and plants to sustain his physical life, including the Tree of Life.  God also gave man the companionship of a woman, for He said, it is not good that man should be alone, 2:18.  He gave him work to do, tending that garden, and every evening He came to walk with man.  Surely that marvelous fellowship was the greatest need He fulfilled.
            Revelation 22 depicts another garden, one that despite my growing belief that the majority of the descriptions in that book are about the victorious church, I cannot help but see in a final heavenly fulfillment.  We will be back where the Tree of Life spreads its branches, 22:2.  We will be with other servants of God, “those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life” 21:27.  We will have work—to serve and worship our Creator for Eternity, 22:3,8,9.  And once again we will be in fellowship, and proximity, to God—His throne is there and we shall “see his face” 22:1,4.  God’s plan will have come full circle, from that first garden to an eternal one.
            But there was another garden, one right in the middle of it all—Gethsemane.  It had some of the same characteristics.  The disciples had fellowship with each other and with their Lord.  And they had work to do.  “Watch with me,” Jesus told them, Matt 26:38.  It had been a long day, one full of surprises and mysterious statements by their Master.  They were tired, wanting only to rest, and so “their eyes were heavy,” and they slept, 26:48.  When the Lord needed them most, they failed Him.
            That garden was the reason we have hope of an Eternal Garden.  In a sense, we are living our lives in that middle garden with the Lord.  “Watch and pray that you enter not into temptation,” he told those men, Mark 14:38, adding at the end, “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”  My flesh may indeed be weak, but too often my spirit is lacking as well.  Life can wear you out.  Trials seem to come in one long succession, like a string of ugly beads.  All you want to do is have one day of peace, one day when something goes right, when it seems like the world isn’t against you and justice will prevail. 
            It is hard, and your Lord knows it.  He sat in that same garden you are in now, awaiting things you will probably never have to experience.  And he did it so you can have hope of a garden where everything will finally be right, where you can rest and “there will be no curse any more.”
            But for now, you must watch, you must endure just a little while longer.  I have finally lived long enough to know that it isn’t that long a “while” till it’s over, and then there shall be night no more; and they need no light of lamp, neither light of sun; for the Lord God shall give them light: and they shall reign for ever and ever. 
            And, once again, we will walk in the garden with God.
 
He that has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him that overcomes, to him will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the Paradise of God. Revelation 2:7.                                                                                  
 
Dene Ward

We don’t travel a lot, but when we do we try to find a group of brethren who share our faith.  Most people call this looking for a “sound church.”  After several unsettling experiences with so-called “sound churches” on the road, I started studying the phrase.  Guess what?  You won’t find it anywhere in the Bible, not in any of the nine translations I checked.
            I have already mentioned a time when we forgot our “church clothes” and had to attend services in jeans and flannel shirts—camp clothes--and the cold reception we received.  Another time I was in a city far away from home for a scary surgery.  We remembered our church clothes, but it didn’t seem to make a bit of difference.  We walked in the front door, went down the middle aisle and sat two-thirds of the way down—Keith must be able to see faces in detail so he can lip-read.  We were at least 10 minutes early.  No one approached us, nor nodded, nor even looked our way.  Finally the woman in front of us heard Keith say, “I can’t believe no one has even greeted us,” and turned around to introduce herself.  After services we slowly made our way down the aisle surrounded shoulder to shoulder by the (still unwelcoming) crowd, stopped at a tract rack for a minute or two, and finally walked out the door before the preacher finally came out calling us to say hello.  It wasn’t like we didn’t give him plenty of time.  No one else even bothered.
            Contrast that to the time we entered a building thinking that we probably didn’t agree entirely with this group because of a few notices hanging on the wall, but were greeted effusively by every single member the minute they saw us.  We were even invited to lunch, while at the previous church I mentioned, living in a hotel between dangerous procedures, no one even asked if we needed any help.
            So when my recent study of faith came upon a passage in Titus about being “sound in the faith,” I decided to check the entire context and see what that actually meant.  Since I must be brief here, I hope you will get your Bible and work through it with me and see for yourself.
            First, the phrase applies to individuals, not a corporate body.  Titus 1:10-16 gives us a detailed and complete picture of someone who is not “sound.”  They are the ones the elders in verses 5-9 are supposed to “reprove sharply” so they may be “sound in the faith” v 13.  Look at those seven verses (10-16) and you will see a list that includes these, depending upon your version:  unruly, vain talkers, deceivers, false teachers, men defiled in mind and conscience, unbelievers (who obviously claim otherwise), those who are abominable, disobedient, and deny God by their works, being unfit for good works. 
            The context does not end just because the next line says, “Chapter 2.”  In that chapter Paul clearly defines what “sound in the faith” means, beginning unmistakably with “Speak the things that befit sound doctrine, that the older men…” and going straight into the way people should live.  Read through it.  Everything he tells the older men and women, the younger men and women, and the servants to do and to be, fit somewhere in that previous list (“un-sound”) as an opposite. 
            If people who are unruly are un-sound, then people who are temperate, sober-minded, and reverent in demeanor are sound.  If people who are defiled in mind and conscience are not sound, then people who are chaste, not enslaved to wine (or anything else), and not thieves are sound.  If people who deny God by their works and are even unfit for good works are not sound, then people who are kind, sound in love, and examples of good works are sound.  Go all the way through that second chapter and you can find a (opposite) match for everything in the first.
            Now let’s point out something important:  if being a false teacher makes you unsound, then being a teacher of good and having uncorrupt doctrine does indeed make you sound, but why do we act like that is all there is to it?  You can have a group of people who believe correctly right down the line but who are unkind, unloving, un-submissive, impatient, and who do nothing but sit on their pews on Sunday morning with no good works to their name and they are still not a “sound church!”  Not according to Paul. Nine out of the ten things on that “un-sound” list have nothing to do with doctrine—they are about the way each individual lives his life.
            I am reminded of Jesus’ scalding words to the Pharisees in Matthew 23:23:  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: but these you ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. Yes, our doctrine must be sound, but doesn’t it mean anything to us that Paul spends far more time talking about how we live our lives every day? 
            Don't get me wrong.  The notes of the bugler do make a difference.  It wouldn't do at all if he played "Taps" when the general was calling for a "charge."  For if the trumpet give an uncertain sound, who shall prepare himself to the battle? (1Cor 14:8).  But the bugle is not the weapon of choice for a battle.  If the church is made up of people, then a sound church must be made up of sound people who live sound lives.  That is the weightier matter of the law of Christ.
 
For not the hearers of the law are just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified: Romans 2:13.
 
Dene Ward

When Silas came to stay all by himself for the first time, we were not sure how he would handle being away from Mommy and Daddy.  Especially since we were over two hours away, it would have been impossible to get him back home quickly if he was too homesick to last.  He was still three, and, though he had stayed alone with us the night Judah was born, and the night after as well, that was at his own home and he slept in his own bed.
            We managed to keep him talking about happy things all the way home, deeper and deeper into the “dark, spooky woods” as he later called it.  It was after nine o’clock at night and, if you have never experienced it, there is nothing quite as dark as “country dark”—away from the streetlights, traffic lights, parking lot lights, and neon signs of the city.  Only once or twice did he stray into the dangerous territory of “Where will I sleep tonight?” in a pensive tone of voice.
            “We’re here!” we shouted as we pulled up to the gate, wondering aloud in excited voices if Chloe would come to meet us.  That kept him happy as we pulled into the carport and unfastened his booster seat straps.  Then, just as we walked toward the back porch, an owl screamed not fifty feet away, sounding every bit like a hysterical woman, followed by a “Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha” before finally settling into its usual “Who-hoo.” Silas was up those steps in a flash, plastered next to his grandfather’s leg and looking over his shoulders with eyes as big as Frisbees.  How could I tell in the dark?  Even in the dim starlight I could see white all the way around those big blue irises.
            “Uh-oh,” I thought.  “He will be terrified for the rest of the night.”  Luckily Grandma had made some ooey-gooey chocolate cookies and that took care of the problem.  That first impression, which could have ruined the entire stay, was easily overcome, but I think it often is for children.  It’s the adults among us who hang on to them.
            And that brings me to today’s point.  We all know that old saying, “You only get one chance to make a first impression.”  I wish we could remember that all the time, not just when we are meeting someone we hope to impress for our own selfish interests.  Everyone who comes into contact with us, anywhere and any time, is a soul we might be able to save.  What if that first impression you make is the only impression you will ever make?
            I try to remind myself of that when I have a bad experience at a store or in a restaurant.  If I fly off the handle and act like a jerk, if I indulge in harsh words that suit my sense of an injustice having been done me, demanding “my rights” as a customer or patron, how will I ever persuade them to study the Bible with me?  Could I turn right around and hand them an invitation to church services, a gospel meeting, or a ladies Bible class?  Just exactly what kind of reaction do you think I would get?  Did you have a bad morning?  Our bad moods can be very expensive—they can cost someone else his soul.
            So remind yourself the next time you are caught in a tricky situation.  Paul told the Corinthians they should be willing to suffer wrong so the church wouldn’t be ridiculed by the litigious behavior among them (1 Cor 6:7).  What are we willing to suffer so the first impression we leave with someone, won’t guarantee that it will be the last?
 
Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7-8.
           
Dene Ward

The year before had been a warm winter.  In fact, it had been unseasonably warm for several weeks, so warm the blueberries had begun to bloom.  Not good in January, for in North Florida we could be sure more frosts and freezes awaited us.  But there was nothing we could do about it, so we went on about our business, and one morning as I pulled myself along with the trekking poles, walking Chloe around the property, I suddenly came upon a yellow daisy right in the middle of a patch of green grass, another product of the warm spell.  It sat there only four inches off the ground and a little scraggly.  Still, it made me smile.
            Then I got a virus and found myself in the sickbed for over a week.  Finally, the chest congestion drained, the ears stopped aching, and the nose could suddenly breathe again, so after one more day of recovery, I took Chloe on another walk.  As I came around the blueberries I saw it again, still hanging on in spite of the now cooler temperatures--and once again I smiled.
            I suddenly wondered if we aren’t supposed to be like that lone little daisy out in the world.  Do we make anyone smile?  Or are we just like everyone else, hurrying along, consumed with ourselves and our business, impatient, or even angry, with the ones who get in our way and slow us down?  We have an obligation to others we pass along the way. 
            You shall not see your brother's donkey or his ox fallen down by the way and ignore them. You shall help him to lift them up again. Deuteronomy 22:4
            That one is pretty easy, we say.  Who wouldn’t stop for a brother on the side of the road whose donkey (or car) was broken down?  Keith stood by the side of the road next to a disabled car one night, and watched brother after brother pass him on the way to the gospel meeting that was being held just a mile or two down the highway, so don’t be too sure of yourself.
            Yet the law also says this:  "If you meet your enemy's ox or his donkey going astray, you shall bring it back to him. If you see the donkey of one who hates you lying down under its burden, you shall refrain from leaving him with it; you shall rescue it with him, Exodus 23:4-5.  How many of us feel any obligation at all to bear the burden of an enemy, or just a stranger? 
            Let’s not make it one of those situations where we excuse ourselves by talking about crime and good sense.  How about this?  Did you make the cashier’s day a little brighter or a little tougher when you went through the line this morning?  Did you stop and help the harried young mother who dropped her grocery list and sent coupons scattering across the aisle, or did you sigh loudly at the inconvenience of her, her cart, and her three rowdy children because you were in a hurry to get home?  Did you make small talk with the waitress who poured your coffee, or did you treat her like a piece of furniture?  Did you slow down and make room for the car that cut you off in traffic, or did you talk and gesticulate and lay on the horn long enough for someone to think we were in an air raid?  Did you make anyone smile this morning?
            At my first defense, no one came to stand by me, but all deserted me, Paul said in 2 Tim 4:16.  Nearly impossible to imagine, isn’t it?  Yet the night before Keith was scheduled to testify in a trial where we knew the only defense was to try to discredit him, a brother decided he needed to call him up and castigate him for an imagined slight, something that he had simply misunderstood.  When all we can think about is ourselves instead of bearing one another’s burdens, Gal 6:2, instead of helping the weak, 1 Thes 5:14, instead of comforting one another, 2 Cor 1:4, that’s exactly what happens.
            Yes, we get comfort from God, but guess how that often happens?  But God, who comforts the downcast, comforted us by the coming of Titus, 2 Corinthians 7:6.  We are the comfort that God gives.  We are the help that He provides. It’s up to us to pay attention and think of someone besides ourselves.
            Today, be a January daisy, something lovely and unexpected in the life of someone who needs it, whether a brother, or an enemy, or just a stranger.  Make someone smile.
 
Anxiety in a man's heart weighs him down, but a good word makes him glad. Proverbs 12:25
Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body. Proverbs 16:24
I rejoice at the coming of Stephanas and Fortunatus and Achaicus… for they refreshed my spirit... 1 Corinthians 16:17-18
 
Dene Ward

I had heard of it happening before, washing machines walking across a room during a spin cycle because they were out of balance.  The washers of our day must be more attuned to the problem.  In fact, several years back when I put something large and heavy in the washer, as it began to spin, it simply cut itself off—some sort of failsafe, I suppose.  I rearranged the heavy bedspread and it spun just fine, finishing the load as programmed.
            Yet a couple of months ago, I went to move the towel load from the washer to the dryer, and found my machine sitting cockeyed from the wall.  In fact, if the back corner of the machine hadn’t hit the sidewall of the nook where it sat, it might have done a complete 360, water spewing everywhere when the hose pulled out of the wall.
            Ever since then, any sort of semi-heavy load sets the machine to walking—towels, jeans, sheets—and I have numerous dings in my laundry nook wall where that back corner always slams into the wall.  The washer man gave us some instructions, but nothing works.  Somehow my washing machine has become out of balance, and it appears it will stay that way.  On our recently slashed retirement budget, it isn’t worth the money to fix.
            Some of us have the same problem.  We can’t seem to find the balance.  Some stress obedience to the neglect of sincerity; others say, “The heart is all that matters.”  Some emphasize purity and truth to the point that compassion is all but lost, while others view mercy and compassion as the be-all-and-end-all.  A good many believe that wisdom and common sense will solve all matters, avoiding sacrifice for others and unquestioning faith in a God who controls all.
            “It isn’t good stewardship of my money.”
            “God would never expect…”
            “He meant well, and that’s what counts.”
            “They have family.  Let them do it.”
            “At least they attend a sound church.”
            “I thought we’d never get him baptized.”
            “This isn’t wrong but it might lead to…”
            All of these statements are a sign of a washing machine out of balance, banging against the wall as it pits one scripture against another, wresting the Word of God to make it fit what I want, instead of weighing the spirit of the law, and making a righteous decision based upon an appropriate balance of faith and wisdom, purity and compassion, obedience and sincerity.
            I know a man who had to study to make an important decision in his life.  He said, “I studied it knowing the wrong decision would send me to Hell.”  He’s the same man who will reach into his pocket the moment he hears of a need.  If you have that kind of balance in your life, none of this will be as difficult as the contentious always want to make it.
             
But if you had known what this means, I desire mercy and not sacrifice, you would not have condemned the guiltless, Matt 12:7.
 
Dene Ward

I read an article in the newspaper several months ago that I wanted to stand up and applaud.  Then I wanted to sit down and cry.  Let me give you some quotes from that article written by a woman named Debra Nussbaum.
           
            “…Sometimes when I’m at Dunkin’ Donuts I think of [that] quote from Hamlet... ‘The apparel oft proclaims the man.’ 
            “What is the guy in front of me proclaiming with his pajama bottoms?  And the woman behind me in an oversize white tank top that shows every inch of her black bra, what is her proclamation?  Is the guy revealing 80 percent of his boxers sending a message?
            “We have lost the subtle internal rule that tells one not to…wear a skirt the size of a dish towel to school or a religious sanctuary; and not, not, not to feel the need to reveal one’s underwear to the public.
            “A funeral isn’t the place for a miniskirt and 5 inch heels.  A lot of cleavage is…not appropriate for a Tuesday morning at the office or in school.  In fact, it’s bad manners.”
           
            Why is it that the world knows when something is inappropriate, and the people of God make excuses for it?  Why is it that the world cares more about rudeness than we do about sin?
            I was in my neighbor’s home one day visiting.  “Did you see the movie--?  No, wait,” he interrupted himself.  “You’re a Christian.  You wouldn’t have seen that movie.”
            It seems the world knows what a Christian ought to be better than some of my brethren do.  The Corinthians had that problem too.  It is actually reported that there is sexual immorality among you, and of a kind that is not even tolerated among the Gentiles…1 Cor 5:1.
            Maybe we should take a poll.  Ask your neighbors what a Christian would and wouldn’t do.   I understand that they are not completely informed, that there may be aspects of New Testament Christianity they miss or even categorize as hateful, mean-spirited, and ignorant.  Just stick with basic morality.  What would a Christian wear or not wear?  What movies or TV shows would he not watch?  What behaviors would he avoid?  Drinking?  Smoking?  Gambling?  Why is it they can clearly see the problems with these things while we tie ourselves in knots trying to excuse them?
            When amoral people know how a Christian ought to act, ought to dress, and ought to speak and we who call ourselves the true followers don’t, something is wrong.  The same thing happened to God’s people of old, and the words He sent then will apply to us too.  Read them and weep with me.
 
Therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Because you are more turbulent than the nations that are all around you, and have not walked in my statutes or obeyed my rules, and have not even acted according to the rules of the nations that are all around you, therefore thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I, even I, am against you. And I will execute judgments in your midst in the sight of the nations. And because of all your abominations I will do with you what I have never yet done, and the like of which I will never do again, Ezekiel 5:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

The older I get, the more I appreciate the quiet men in the pews, the ones who seldom speak up, whose opinions are usually kept to themselves or to just the one or two who make it a point to speak with them more than the customary, “How are you today?”
          We, who suppose that we “judge righteous judgment,” are, like the Pharisees, just as bad as anyone else about the things we claim to detest, in this case, judging.  If a brother seldom speaks in Bible class, he didn’t study his lesson, right?  Or his heart isn’t in his worship.  If I stop at another congregation when I am out of town and the singing isn’t loud, and the prayers have a lot of common phrases in them, and the preaching isn’t dynamic, then they are the worst excuse for a church I’ve ever seen.  So much for “righteous judgment.”
            The more I study the scriptures, the more I see quiet people living lives that would be considered normal in their day and time.  I don’t mean they would not have been different in their words and actions than the godless pagan they might live next to—I mean great deeds and feats of faith and bravery were not their claim to fame.  They simply lived to and with their God every day, making choices based upon their belief in Him, talking about His promises in casual conversation, assuming as a given that their hope was not baseless.
            When was the last time any one of us had to choose between death and serving God?  I know some places where that may be the case, but no one in this country has faced that trial, and I am the first to thank God for that and pray that it continue.  Does that make me a sorry excuse for a Christian?  Maybe that’s why so many think they must raise a ruckus about everything—they have to show their “faith” in some sort of blatant manner, instead of being satisfied—and grateful—that they can live a life of steady devotion day after day after routine day.  Sometimes that quiet steadiness takes a lot more strength, and certainly more endurance, than one quick flash in the pan act of courage.
            So here’s to the ordinary Christian.  He loves his wife “as his own body,” serves her faithfully, even when the years have diminished her outward beauty and increased her outward girth. 
            He trains his children, not just about God, but about being a man.  He teaches them how to work, how to play, and how to survive in an unfriendly world.  He shows them patience and mercy, the traits His Heavenly Father showed him.
            He works for his employer “as unto the Lord,” giving the boss no need to worry about his stealing either the business’s supplies or time--a day’s work for a day’s pay, and the willingness to throw in some unremunerated extra time and effort simply because it’s needed.
            He sees to the good of his neighbors, offering a helping hand, the loan of equipment, the gift of sharing good things that have come his way.  He shows them the Lord he serves in the way he treats them.
            He handles the trials of life, not as if they make him special and deserving, but as if they happen to all, knowing he deserves even worse for his part in the sin that contaminated the world.  He never allows them to affect his faith in God or his desire to serve that God.  He simply keeps on going, like that famous bunny.
            And so he may not talk a lot.  He may not jump up and down and raise his hands high in the air.  He may not be caught shedding a tear during a song or a prayer.  But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t mean every word of what he sings or prays, or have deep feelings of love and gratitude, and shame on anyone who judges otherwise.  Jacob worshipped, leaning on his staff, we are told in Heb 11:21.  What?  No hallelujahs?  I wonder how some today might have judged that.
            In fact, a whole church full of such men might not rise to the ideal for some who need outward show to “get anything out of” the worship.  What makes them think they are better than another who can motivate himself with his own quiet, inward thoughts?  Isn’t it a good thing, that Someone Else is doing the judging? 
            As to that “ordinary Christian,” he isn’t really very ordinary at all.
 
…for man looks on the outward appearance, but Jehovah looks on the heart, 1 Sam 16:7.
 
Dene Ward