I started jogging in 1983.  Keith had been doing it since he was in the Marine Corps.  A couple of neighbors did it, and every time I went into town I saw people all over the sidewalks doing it.  I was in dreadful shape and 30 pounds overweight.  I decided that if everyone else could, so could I.  And I did.  For a while there, I was jogging 30 miles a week, and those thirty pounds melted off, especially over the long, hot Florida summer.
            But jogging was not always "what everyone did."  The whole idea of jogging for your health's sake began in the 1960s and back then anyone who did it was considered a "weirdo" or "an exercise freak."  In fact, in 1968, a man named Dick Cordier from Hartford, Connecticut, was out jogging one day and was stopped by the police for "illegal use of the highway."
            It seems that this new fitness routine, jogging, began in New Zealand.  William Bowerman, an American track and field coach and co-founder of Nike, visited a friend there in 1962 and saw people of all ages participating in this new hobby.  He published a four page pamphlet co-sponsored by the Oregon Heart Association and suddenly people started listening.  Still, it took time for the word to spread, as evidenced by poor Mr. Cordier's citation.  But later that year, on October 15, 1968, The Chicago Tribune published an entire page on jogging and people began to look at the weirdos a different way.  By the time 1983 came along, I was perfectly happy to jog down the highway and unworried about what people might think.  But I wonder how well I might have done back in 1968?
            It's hard to be different.  Usually we save these lessons for our teenagers, but folks, we need the lesson, too.  How many times have we thought we needed something because everyone else had it, or thought we should wear something because it was the latest style, or avoided stating an opinion we knew might make others dislike us?  They had that problem in the first century, too.
            For the time that is past suffices for doing what the Gentiles want to do, living in sensuality, passions, drunkenness, orgies, drinking parties, and lawless idolatry. With respect to this they are surprised when you do not join them in the same flood of debauchery, and they malign you (1Pet 4:3-4).  Don't think you would never fall for "those kinds" of sins.  When everyone else is doing it, it suddenly seems less wrong.  That is exactly why our culture has fallen to a new low in morality.
            It would be good to remind ourselves of four teenage boys who not only managed to be different, but seemed to revel in it.  Among these were Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah of the tribe of Judah. And the chief of the eunuchs gave them names: Daniel he called Belteshazzar, Hananiah he called Shadrach, Mishael he called Meshach, and Azariah he called Abednego. But Daniel resolved that he would not defile himself with the king's food, or with the wine that he drank. Therefore he asked the chief of the eunuchs to allow him not to defile himself… (Dan 1:6-8).  The rest of the story makes the point.  Daniel and his friends did not try to hide their difference.  They pointed it out in a hostile environment and allowed their faith to be tested, and it wasn't just a popularity contest.  If they had failed to please the Babylonian king, someone might well have died.  The steward himself said, "You will endanger my head" (1:10), and should their refusal to eat the king's food be known to the king, that king, especially, might have taken it badly.  God rewarded their faith, as he did continually in their stay in Babylon, even rescuing them from the fiery furnace and the lion's den.
            But God does not always save us from the consequences of being different.  What are we failing to do because it is not popular, or because "times have changed?"  And what are we doing because "everyone else is?"  Have we ever dared to do or say something that was unpopular on purpose?  Forget talking to the young people until we can answer those questions ourselves.  Peer pressure works on us all!
            God has plenty to say about his desire that His children be different:

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Rom 12:2).

My son, do not walk in the way with [sinners]; hold back your foot from their paths (Prov 1:15).
​
Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law he meditates day and night (Ps 1:1-2).

Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few (Matt 7:13-14).
​I
f you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you (John 15:19).
           
           Maybe we neglect teaching our children to revel in their difference because we have not learned to ourselves.  We need to be out there showing them the way, making "illegal use of the highway" in a time where no one except weirdos jogs.  Make no mistake:  whoever we want to be most like, whoever we act, dress, and speak like, that is our god.  Do we want to be like the rest of the world, or like Jesus?
 
That you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world (Phil 2:15).
 
Dene Ward

His name was Joseph.  He came from an island off the coast, but had family in the city, and had come to worship at the two feast days, probably staying with his close relative Mary.  While he was there he saw and heard amazing things:  people speaking languages they had never studied, something that looked like fire but wasn’t, something that sounded like a windstorm but wasn’t, and a sermon that both astonished and convicted him.  He wound up staying in town, along with several thousand others who had become part of God’s new kingdom, the one they had been waiting for so long. 
            Despite their previous plans, they all chose to stay so they could learn, so they could grow, so they could mature before they went off on their own to spread the word in a world of sin, a world, they were told, that would reject them more often than accept them.  It wasn’t long till the practical needs of several thousand homeless people with no income could no longer be ignored. 
            Those who lived in the city helped as much as they could.  They took people in and collected funds to buy extra food and clothing.  Men were chosen to see to these needs.  Joseph helped as well, selling off extra property he owned, and donating the full amount to the group. 
            But that was not all he did.  Here was a man who excelled at encouragement, consolation, exhortation.  He was the first to give a pat on the back when it was needed, a hug, a kind word, a stern word, a teaching word, a “rah-rah” from the sidelines, a second chance to those whom others had given up on.  In fact, he became so good at it that the apostles gave him the nickname, “son of encouragement/consolation/exhortation,” whatever your version says in Acts 4:36.  And forever more in the scriptures, that is how we know him—Barnabas.  Did you even know that was not his real name?
            Whenever I think of that man, I wonder what nickname the apostles would give me?  Whiny Winnie?  Gossip Gail?  My-Way Marian?  Grumpy Gert?  Cold-hearted Catherine?  Hotheaded Harriet?   Wondering about that will give your character a real shot in the arm.  I’d much rather have something like Generous Joyce or Compassionate Kate. 
            Your assignment for today?  Try to figure out what they would call you.  Be honest.  You can always change that name, just by changing yourself.


A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold,  Prov 22:1.



Dene Ward

Paul wrote a scathing letter to the Corinthian brothers and sisters.  This was a church with so many problems many might have refused to call them “sound” nowadays.  The root of every problem they had could probably be summed up as “immaturity.”  Paul, in fact, calls them babes.  You know what he would have said in our language?  “I could not speak to you as spiritual adults because you are a bunch of big babies!”  1 Cor 3:1.
            In chapter six these immature people were taking each other to court.  Paul tells them that this only hurts the church’s reputation in the world.  “What?” he says.  “Don’t you have any one wise enough to help you settle your disputes?  You are doing harm to the church and ought to be willing to suffer wrong instead of making God’s kingdom look bad” (chapter 6, more or less).
            I don’t think that only applies to legal matters.  This was recorded for us, and if we are as smart as we think we are, we ought to be able to apply it in all sorts of situations.  The problem is, we are Americans, and proud of it.  We have rights!  And we often insist on those rights, regardless of how it might make others view the body of which we claim to be a part.
            And then there are the situations that really have nothing to do with “rights,” just convenience or “feelings.”  I love the insurance commercial that says, “The drivers on the road are people.  So treat them like they are in your home, not in your way.”  I wonder if the ad man who came up with that is a Christian.  He sounds more like one than some I know who are. 
            So the next time the person ahead of you in the check-out line takes a long time writing a check, or when the person in the car ahead of you is not as brave as you are about making that left turn across traffic, “take wrong” and “be defrauded” of a few minutes in your day instead of letting him know how much he exasperates you. 
            What if either of those people walk into services Sunday morning, looking for the truth of God’s Word and recognizes you?  Exactly how has your “looking out for your rights” affected their hearts?  Do you think they are likely to be more or less receptive to the gospel? 
            What if, at a family gathering or a church potluck someone says something that you find insulting?  “Take wrong” or “be defrauded” of your feelings for the sake of the others there, including children whose fun might be ruined when you cause a scene and walk off in a huff, or a visitor someone has brought to the potluck who might now have a bad opinion of the church.  In all these cases, just like little children, we often see and care only how things affect us, and not how they will affect others.
            If we cannot yield the right of way when it only affects our convenience, what makes us think we can when it is a matter of legal rights?  If we cannot sacrifice a few precious feelings, we have already failed the test of whether we would sacrifice our lives.  He who is faithful in little is faithful in much; he who is unfaithful in little, is unfaithful in much, Luke 16:10.
            It takes maturity to yield, especially when you are in the right, especially when the other person is not looking out for your good, especially when you have to suffer wrong, or even just inconvenience, to do so.  It also takes maturity to remember this in the heat of the moment.  Would Paul call us a bunch of big babies, too? 
I say this to your shame.  Can it be that there is no one among you wise enough to settle a dispute between the brothers, but brother goes to law against brother, and that before unbelievers? To have lawsuits at all with one another is already a defeat for you.  Why not rather suffer wrong?  Why not rather be defrauded? But you yourselves [by this behavior] wrong and defraud—even your own brothers, 1 Cor 6:5-8.

 Dene Ward

Sometime back a young lady came up to a friend of mine and said, “I want to be a sweet little old lady when I get older.  How do I do that?”
            I can imagine myself asking the same question when I was young.  I guess I thought there was a magic age, a time when suddenly I would understand everything and feel wise.  It hasn’t happened yet, and youth left me a long time ago. 
            My wise friend looked at this young woman and said, “The way to become a sweet little old lady is to be a sweet young lady.”
            She is so right.  I can guarantee you that every grumpy old man you know was once a grumpy young one, and every bitter old lady you know was a bitter young one.  You will not suddenly become wise just because you have aged, and you will not suddenly become good-natured either.  It reminds me of something I heard on an audio book recently:  there are no happy endings, only happy people. 
            And isn’t that what we Christians are supposed to be, happy?  Yet it seems I meet more and more unhappy Christians.  Maybe we do not dwell enough on the hope we have—or maybe we simply don’t believe it.  If I do believe in that hope, it will show in the things that do and do not upset me, in the things that do and do not discourage me.  It will show in how I treat people, even those who are not kind or who actively mistreat me.  It will show in the way I put others ahead of myself and my own desires, serving as well as I can in whatever situation I am in.  Isn’t that what a sweet little old lady does, or a kind and pleasant old man?  I have known many in my lifetime.  Christians should always become sweet little old ladies and kind and pleasant old men because they believe that here and now is not the end of the matter.  They understand that very soon they will see a happy beginning that never ends--and they believe it.          
            If you want to be a sweet little old lady when you grow up, start working on it today, whatever your age, or you will never make it in time.


Blessed is the one who finds wisdom, and the one who gets understanding, for the gain from her is better than gain from silver and her profit better than gold. She is more precious than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare with her.  Long life is in her right hand; in her left hand are riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace.  She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called blessed, Prov 3:13-18.



Dene Ward

We are well over a thousand now—and counting.  I have been writing up these little things so long I can’t watch something happen without thinking the phrase above.  In fact, more than once Keith and I have looked at one another after some oddball event and said it in unison: “There oughtta be a devo in that.”
            “Go to the ant, thou sluggard.  Consider her ways and be wise,” Solomon wrote.  “Look at the birds,” Jesus said, and, “Consider the lilies.”  Both of them taught valuable lessons from the things around them.  The parables were nothing more than every day occurrences with analogous meanings.  Parables were not uncommon in the Old Testament either, and many of the prophets taught lessons with the visual aids of their own lives or actions.  Hosea and Ezekiel come instantly to mind.
            Even the writers of the New Testament used athletic contests, farming truisms, and anatomical allegories to teach us what we need to know about our relationship with God, with one another, and in our homes and communities.  Telling stories is a time-honored and perfectly scriptural way of teaching God’s word.
            In fact, maybe if we started looking at the world that way, at the things that happen in our daily lives as if they had some meaning beyond the mundane, some deeper spiritual use, it might just be that our lives would change for the better.  It might be easier to see where we need to grow, maybe a place we need to make a one-eighty before we get much further down the road.  There is something about watching a dumb animal and thinking, “I didn’t even have that much sense,” that will straighten out your attitude.
            If I have done nothing else for you in all these years, maybe I have accomplished this.  Maybe you have learned to look at the things around you and say, “There IS a devo in that—I need to make a change.”
 
But ask the beasts, and they will teach you; the birds of the heavens, and they will tell you; or the bushes of the earth, and they will teach you; and the fish of the sea will declare to you. Who among all these does not know that the hand of the LORD has done this? Job 12:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

When you come to enjoy baseball later in life as I have, you often take for granted things that were not part of the game in the beginning.  Pinch hitters are usually good hitters who are called upon later in the game to step in for a batter who has not hit well.  Often it is a pivotal moment in the game, two outs with two on, and a last chance to tie or win.  The pinch hitter then substitutes for that player he replaced for the remainder of the game either in his defensive position or in another as the team switches positions to accommodate the pinch hitter's abilities.
            The first Major League Baseball player to collect a pinch hit was 22 year old Jack Doyle of the Cleveland Spiders on June 7, 1892, as they played the Brooklyn Grooms.  He came off the bench for pitcher George Davies.  In spite of his hit, Cleveland lost 2-1.  Doyle had a 17 year career with ten teams.  His best years were 1894 with the New York Giants (.367) and 1897 with the Baltimore Orioles (.354).  He finished with a batting average of .299 in 1564 games with 516 stolen bases.
            There have been many times in my life when I would have loved to given way to a pinch hitter--some rugged health procedures, a few rough times economically, a speaking engagement or two that still haunt me because I did not feel comfortable with my delivery.  But we all know that won't work.  Life happens and the things we learn as we endure it are what make or break us as people, especially people of God.
            But it seems to me that some of us just expect a pinch hitter to step in here or there.  The preacher is often our batter of choice.  "It's the preacher's job to visit," we say, which is nowhere found in the scripture, just in our minds as we watch our denominational friends' "pastor system" and try to copy it and at the same time claim to know the true Biblical definition of a pastor.  Instead, the New Testament squarely lays the visiting obligation on every disciple as he ministers to those in need.  Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means visiting orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you (Jas 1:27).
            Others seem to think that it is the church's job to educate their children in the scriptures.  On two 45 minute sessions a week?  Assuming they bother to take their children to both, and assuming they help them get their Bible lessons and make sure they take their workbooks to class.  It has been my experience that the ones who want the church to do the educating are the same ones who won't do this other minimal requirement as godly parents.  You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates (Deut 6:5-9).  Fathers [bring up] your children…in the discipline and instruction of the Lord (Eph 6:4).
            I am sure you can think of other ways we depend upon a pinch hitter rather than doing what God requires of us individually.  But how about this one?  Another word for a pinch hitter might be "scapegoat."  Any time we refuse to take responsibility for our actions, blaming it on someone who "offended" us, or our culture, or the way we were raised, or anything else we can come up with, we think that that person or thing or system will now be held accountable by God (or society or the law of the land) and we are in the clear.  Simply by saying, "It's not my fault," we have admitted that we made a bad choice, and the one God will hold accountable is the one who made that original choice, no matter how long ago it was nor how many other events happened before or afterward.  If I have gotten myself into trouble, I am at fault.  Period.  That's the way God counts it.
            There are no pinch hitters on God's team.
 
I am the LORD. I have spoken; it shall come to pass; I will do it. I will not go back; I will not spare; I will not relent; according to your ways and your deeds you will be judged, declares the Lord GOD (Ezek 24:14).
He will render to each one according to his works: to those who by patience in well-doing seek for glory and honor and immortality, he will give eternal life; but for those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, there will be wrath and fury (Rom 2:6-8).
 
Dene Ward

“Hi!  My name is Moe and I will be your server today.  What can I get you to drink?”
            We had received a gift card to an Italian restaurant we had never been to before and were using it after a doctor appointment one afternoon.  Moe was slightly shorter than average, but a dark-haired, good looking young man, probably working his way through college, it being a college town.  We enjoyed our meal and Moe served us well.  Our first course came lickety-split and when the second took a little bit longer, he stopped to tell us we were “next” and to see if we needed anything else while we waited—like another loaf of warm bread, an offer we were happy to take him up on.  All through the meal he checked on our progress, on whether we were happy or not, and whether things were prepared to our liking.
            When we had finished and were sated enough to turn down dessert, he stood another moment and said, “Is there anything else I can get you?”  Then a half second later, “I really mean that.  You are the kindest table I have waited on all day and I would do anything in the world for you.”
            I had noticed that the booth behind Keith had called him over half a dozen times, and another table had sent something back.  No one raised a voice, but evidently their words and manner showed they might as well have. 
            And us?  We didn’t really think about what we were doing or how we were acting.  We were just—us.  Maybe it’s that we learned a long time ago that people in the service industry are often mistreated and verbally abused, made to pay for someone else’s failures—in this case, maybe the chef’s—and treated just like furniture as far as any personal interaction goes.  Maybe I learned it from my daddy—he always called people he dealt with by their names, and waiters and waitresses, car salesmen and mechanics all remembered him.
            But Moe’s words of gratitude have made me actually think about what I am doing and saying, trying to be even kinder than usual, and maybe even developing a short—but sweet—relationship with those people.  Isn’t that the way Christians are supposed to treat those who serve them?
            Masters, treat your servants justly and fairly, knowing that you also have a Master in heaven…and stop your threatening, knowing that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and that there is no partiality with him. Col 4:1; Eph 6:9
            Why shouldn’t those passages apply to how we treat waiters and waitresses, plumbers and mechanics, cashiers and pizza delivery guys?  These people serve us as part of their daily work, and we can make or break their reputations with their bosses and even cost them their jobs.  We can also brighten their day if we treat them as we ought to, and who knows, maybe someday we can help bring them to Christ. 
            My boys have worked in service industries over summer semesters.  Even all these years later they can tell you stories about certain customers.  Do you really think it is Christlike to be a customer remembered for his sour disposition and rude words over twenty years later?
            Did you go out to eat yesterday?  How would your server remember you?  If you walked in again today, how would he feel?  How does your cashier at the grocery store greet you?  Does she ignore you unless you go through her line, or does she smile and wave when she sees you walk through the door? 
            So thank you, Moe, for reminding me that we are supposed to be reflections of our Lord to everyone.  Thank you for reminding me that my actions and attitudes can glorify or shame Him.
 
You shall not rule over [your servants] ruthlessly but shall fear your God. Lev 25:43
 
Dene Ward

Keith mentioned a few weeks ago that Sonny James had died.  “Who?” I asked.
            “You know—‘Running Bear,’ and ‘Young Love’—the country singer.”
            Ah!  “Running Bear” I remembered.  It was on the radio nearly every day for a while when I was a young teen. 
           Sonny James was born on May 1, 1928.  Keith found an article and there it was all set out for us:  26 #1 hit singles and 16 #1 hits in a row.  He still holds the record for consecutive #1 hits by any solo recording artist throughout all musical genres.  And I couldn’t remember who he was!
            So, I got to thinking and, it being just passed, I looked up the Oscar winners.  Tell me, do you know who Warren Baxter was?  He won the 1930 Best Actor Oscar for his role in “In Old Arizona.”  I never even heard of the movie.  How about Paul Lukas?  He won in 1944.  Don’t tell me, “But that’s so long ago.”  It hasn’t even been a hundred years.  It certainly isn’t ancient history.
            How about nominees?  Let’s just sit awhile in the Best Actress category.  Ruth Chatterton?  Betty Compson? Jeanne Eagels?  They were nominated in 1928.  May Robson and Diana Wynyard?  They came along in 1932.  Martha Scott?  That was 1941, and Celia Johnson was nominated in 1945.  Okay, let’s make it easier.  How about 1966?  That was Ida Kaminska.  I still never heard of her.  Marie-Christine Barrault was nominated in 1976.  Surely you know her?  Here’s an easy one—1989.  Most of you were probably born by then.  Ever hear of Pauline Collins?  Me neither.
            I bet I could do the same thing with Emmys, Tonys, Grammys, and how about Heisman awards?  Do you see the point?  A huge percentage of these people will never be remembered by most people just a few years from now.  Acting is not that important in the grand scheme of things.  Touchdown passes, slam dunks, and home runs don’t really matter.  Why, oh why, do we lavish our praise and adoration on these people?  Why do we wear their colors and their uniform numbers, dress like they do, talk like they do, and want their signatures on hats and shirts and napkins?
            Think for a minute: who do we remember?  How about a widow who sewed for the poor in the town of Joppa?  How about a Christian couple who were chased out of Rome for being of Jewish extraction, but who kept traveling preachers in their home and even helped teach them and anyone else who came along, even at the risk of death?  How about a wealthy woman in Jerusalem who allowed the church to meet in her home in the midst of a dangerous persecution so they could pray for those in prison?  How about a disciple in Damascus who took his life into his hands to preach to one of the church’s worst persecutors?  How about yet another one who was known for his encouraging ways, who traveled and preached and took young preachers under his wing till they could grow to be mature servants of God?
            I bet you know every one of their names and can find their stories in your Bible.  These are the things that last.  These are the things that no one will forget.  These are the things that will make a difference to lives, and more than that, to eternal souls. 
            And most of these are things we can do, too.  Do you want to be remembered?  Put down the football.  Throw down the novel.  Turn off the DVD.  Pull out the earbuds.  Now go out there and do good to whomever you find, everywhere you can.  You will be remembered—by many, and especially by the One who counts.
 
​…Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ​For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also…for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God.  Luke 12:33-34; 16:15.
 
Dene Ward

The bugle call "Taps" was written by Gen. Daniel Butterfield to replace another bugle call that the US Army used at the end of the day.  It was first played by Private Oliver Willcox Norton of the 83rd Pennsylvania Regiment.  Before long it spread throughout the army and even into the Confederate Army who heard it being played across the battlefields.  It is now most associated with military funerals.
            Gen. Butterfield was a businessman from New York State whose father founded American Express.  He formed a militia in New York and at the start of the Civil War reported to Washington for service and was appointed an officer.  He had a natural tendency to organize and without anyone asking him to do so, wrote a manual on camp and outpost duty for the infantry.  The manual eventually reached Gen. George McClellan and on April 23, 1862, it was "adopted for the governance of the army."
            It was after that, in the summer, that Gen Butterfield wrote "Taps," and that is where we will hang our hats this morning.
            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

We have had some cold this winter, more than in recent years.  Over the holidays we had at least two nights in the low to mid 20s, and have had quite a few in the 30s and 40s.  If you are north of the Florida-Georgia line that may not seem too bad to you, but for us, it's noteworthy.  It means when we go out in the mornings for our third cup of coffee and to throw treats for Chloe, we head for the east fire pit rather than sit on the breezy carport.  Even with layers of shirts, sweaters and coats, and even in sunny Florida, those plastic chairs feel cold to the backside, so we pile on the firewood, usually deadwood gathered from around the property.  If the fire is more smoke than flame, a good piece of fat lighter will usually get it going hot and strong, and a handful of pine straw provides the strong, hot, and immediate blaze our bodies crave for comfort. 
            After a few minutes we are finally warming up, both outside and in.  The hardwoods will begin to coal up and suddenly, though the flames may be lower, the heat is much higher.  I often need to turn a bit to the sides to keep my pants and the legs within them from scorching.  Sometimes we even need to push our chairs back a foot or two, and Chloe suddenly prefers to sit to the side on her pile of carefully raked up pine straw rather than right next to us.  When it gets that hot, all you have to do is look up and even on a perfectly still morning, see the leaves on the branches 30 feet above our heads dancing in the heat waves.  Hot air rises, they taught us in science class, and there is the proof of it.
            The Bible uses "heat" as a metaphor for anger, particularly when referring to God's anger.  He let loose on them his burning anger, wrath, indignation, and distress…(Ps 78:49).  But the same figure is used of our anger as well.  ​A hot-tempered man stirs up strife…(Prov 15:18).  Before we go too far along with this, we would do well to remember that anger is not necessarily a sin.  Be angry and sin not, Paul says in Eph 4:26.  But too often, that becomes the excuse du jour, a little too handy and too often used.  Still, we are right to be angry about some things.  ​Hot indignation seizes me because of the wicked, who forsake your law (Ps 119:53), but I fear that too often, our anger has nothing to do with our defense of God, righteousness and justice, but simply of ourselves and what was done to us.
            If a man has a constant problem with anger, the real issue isn't what caused the anger, but the fact that he is simply an angry man.  Anything can raise his hackles at the least provocation, and just like the heat from our morning fire, it will rise to the top, causing turmoil and upset.  It is not just his problem; it affects everyone around him.  As charcoal to hot embers and wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome man for kindling strife (Prov 26:21).  And perhaps worse, Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare (Prov 22:24-25).  An angry man is not a happy man and he had rather no one else be happy either.  It should go without saying that he is no fun to be around.
            Many angry men have the mistaken idea that their anger is a sign of strength.  God says otherwise.  A man with a quick temper is a fool (Prov 14:17; Eccl 7:9)).  He has no understanding (Prov 14:29).  He is weak (16:32), and he has no sense (19:11).  That's what God thinks of him. 
            So when you notice the hot air rising, especially within yourself, take a step backwards and reflect.  Why are you so easily angered?  (It can happen to women as well as men, you know.)  What has gotten so deep inside your heart that you can no longer control it?  No bad day or difficult circumstance can ever excuse it.  For some who are deeply damaged, it might require some professional help, but for the average person, it is a choice he makes when he decides to let anger take the controls.  Other people experience the same difficulties and manage to handle them in a righteous manner, including the Lord when he was on this earth.  With him on your side, so can you.
 
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God (Jas 1:19-20).
 
Dene Ward