Things change so rapidly these days it seems impossible to keep up.  I had carefully collected a library of classical music LPs for my students to listen to.  By the time my studio was large enough, with students advanced enough to get much use out of them, I was collecting cassettes.  Before long I had to switch to CDs.  At least I don’t have a collection of 8 tracks collecting dust as well.  Somehow I missed that phase.
            The same thing is happening in the church, and I don’t mean changing doctrine to suit the situation, I mean changing the means by which we teach that unchangeable Word, and the ways we edify one another while still clinging to the constraints of obedient faith.
            Gone are the charts drawn on white bed sheets and the overhead projectors flashing carefully covered up lists, revealed one line at a time when the speaker moves the sheet of paper he laid on top.  Now we use power point and remotes.  Even my three year old grandson Silas knows to pick up something rectangular and point it at his make-believe screen when he pretends to preach like Daddy.
            We must beg people to use the carefully selected library of books we have in the back hall—they are happier with the internet and Bible study programs, not to mention Kindle and Nook.  Even the riffling of Bibles during the sermon has decreased—many now have all 66 books on something the size of a wallet.  You are more likely to hear beeps or mechanized “plops” than the quiet shuffling of pages.
            Now the preacher doesn’t just have to raise his voice when an infant begins to cry; he has to raise it when someone forgets to turn off his cell phone.  Now the song leader must wrestle with an audience who not only wants to sing at their own pace regardless of his direction, but with the ones who cannot for the life of them understand or “feel” syncopation.  Fanny Crosby would never have set words to a syncopated tune.
            But some things will always be the same.
            Children whose parents tell them to “Listen!” will still come up with ways to keep their wandering minds on the sermons, counting how many times the preacher says certain words or writing down every passage he uses, and in that play will begin to memorize scriptures that stay with them for a lifetime.
            Someone will still sniffle a bit during the Lord’s Supper, and someone else will momentarily hold up the collection while he tries to persuade his two year old to put the coins in the plate, and the children will learn what is done and why.
            A deacon will stand in back and count while another one makes last minute notes for the closing announcements, those precious words that help us “weep with those who weep, and rejoice with those who rejoice.”
            Serious men, in khakis and open neck shirts instead of suits and ties, will still listen carefully to the preacher while their wives juggle their own listening with trying to decide if a requested potty trip is really necessary or just a ploy to get out of this boring seat for a few minutes.
            People will still ask for prayers when life deals them a harsh blow, and brothers and sisters will gather round with hugs and tears, and offers of help.
            Excited new converts will still sit closer to the front than old ones, listening with rapt attention, diligently taking notes to study at home, and thinking up questions that will keep the elders busy for weeks.
            Young parents will be suddenly motivated to attend regularly for the first time in their lives by the responsibility of the small souls God has placed in their hands.
            Widows will contentedly sit, patiently waiting for the time when they can meet their mates “at the gate,” as my mother asked my daddy to do just moments before his passing.
            Older couples will do as I do, looking around at all the new but still seeing the old in spite of the new, comforting themselves that God’s way still works, even in this perplexing age of technology and unparalleled advancement.
            As long as there are people to hear it and hearts to believe it, planting the seed will make Christians spring up out of any plot of good soil.  It has worked for nearly two thousand years now and we, in spite of the wow-factor of our inventions, will never outdo the results God can get with one Book.  If you ever forget that, then look around some Sunday morning, not for the differences, but for the things that never change, and that never will as long as faith exists on the earth.
 
"O my God," I say, "take me not away in the midst of my days-- you whose years endure throughout all generations!" Of old you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands. They will perish, but you will remain; they will all wear out like a garment. You will change them like a robe, and they will pass away, but you are the same, and your years have no end. The children of your servants shall dwell secure; their offspring shall be established before you. Psalms 102:24-28
 
Dene Ward

I was driving back from Bible class, coming down the last hill before the river, rolling green fields dotted with black cattle on the right, and a couple of old trailer houses perched on the left, their yards littered with rusty old farm equipment, screens hanging loose on porches covered with peeling paint, and black and brown frosted-off weeds standing knee high.  It may surprise you that I was driving.  I have reached that point where the doctor is the one who decides if I can have a driver’s license, and it seems the general consensus is that it doesn’t matter if you can tell if that thing by the side of the road is a garbage can, a mailbox, or a midget, as long you know it’s there and don’t hit it.
            But I was really tired.  Most of my medications are beta blockers of one sort or another, or poisons that affect my heartbeat.  Sometimes I am lucky to have a pulse rate of 52 and blood pressure just scraping the bottom side of 100, the top number that is.  The bottom one might be half that. 
            I had just bought groceries for the week, picked up a prescription and some dry cleaning, stood in line at the post office for twenty minutes and taught a Bible class, not to mention driving the hour and a half round trip back and forth to town.  I was ready to sit out the rest of the day, after I got home and unloaded.
            But my weary mind forgot that I was driving and told me to lean back and relax.  I know my eyes weren’t closed longer than half a second, but when my brain caught up with what I was doing and I snapped to, my pulse was racing along just fine.  Good thing I was only five miles from home.            
            And that’s when I forgot that these medications are a blessing, that without them I wouldn’t see at all, and wouldn’t have for several years now.  That’s when I railed against a gift of God.  It’s not enough that I have no energy.  I must also put up with the discomfort of follicular conjunctivitis every minute of every day as a side effect, and nearly constant headaches from the blurry vision that accompanies it.  How can this be a blessing?
            Down days happen, usually when things pile up.  Once again we needed something we couldn’t afford.  Once again we had received bad news about a parent’s health.  Once again something broke down.  My vision had decreased another line at my last checkup.  Keith’s RA had broken through the latest, the third, layer of medication and we weren’t sure it could be knocked down without another layer.  And now I come dangerously close to an accident that could have hurt not just me but an innocent bystander.
            So down I spiraled.  When even blessings—like the medications that keep you seeing—become something you want to curse because all you can focus on are the side effects, you are too far down, and it’s time to find your way out.
            Down days aren’t so much about a lack of faith as they are about a moment’s forgetfulness.  They are about looking for the wrong things, or looking at the right things the wrong way.  This wretched medicine makes me feel horrible, I sometimes think on a down day.  On an up day I remember, this wonderful medicine has kept me seeing long enough to see my grandchildren.
            I don’t for a minute compare myself to John, and I certainly have no idea what his feelings were, but if I had been in his shoes—or in his cell—I might have needed a reminder too.  He had given up so much to fulfill his role in God’s plan as the forerunner of the Messiah.  Yet now, when he has done all that was expected of him, he is cast into prison for speaking the truth.  Surely God would save this righteous man, the one of whom the Messiah himself would say, “Of those born of women, none is greater than John,” Luke 7:28.  But no, day after day he languishes in a prison cell at the mercy of a wicked woman and her weak husband. 
            I would have had a down day or two as I came to realize that my work was finished, that perhaps I, too, was finished, at the completely un-ripe young age of 31 or so.  I don’t know if that is why or not, but he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, “Are you the one, or should we look for another?” (7:20) 
            The Lord sent him what he needed to hear.
            "Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me." Luke 7:22-23.
            John already knew those things; he had probably seen many of them.  He just needed to be reminded, and there is no shame in that. 
God can remind each one of us too.  He does it by the providential words and actions of your brethren.  He does it when a hymn suddenly wafts through your mind.  He does it by giving us His Word, a resource of constant refreshment when we need it.  How many of us don’t have verses we go to in difficult moments?  If you don’t, then you need to make some time today to find one.  Find it before you need it.  Find it, and let the Lord remind you about all of your blessings, both now and to come. 
            You can come up from a down day, but only if you reach out and take hold of the help that is offered.
 
They who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint. Isaiah 40:31.
 
Dene Ward

I put the cup of coffee down in front of Keith and he looked at it disdainfully.  “What are you?  A waitress?” 

You see, I hadn’t filled it to the brim.  Since, just like a waitress, I had to carry it from the kitchen to the table, to have done so seemed impractical to me.  Despite another snide comment about “a half-full cup of coffee,” it was plenty full for carrying, about a half inch from the top.

Everyone knows what happens when you fill something to the brim and then try to carry it—it sloshes out all over the place.  In fact, whenever Keith fills his own cup, I wind up wiping coffee rings off the table and counter, and splashes in the floor because he fills it to the top.  Filled to the brim is fine when you don’t plan on carrying it anywhere—for most things, anyway.

…And they chose Stephen, a man full of faith…, Acts 6:5.

Stephen is the perfect example of a man filled to the brim with faith.  It sloshed out all over everyone who came near him.  How can you tell?  Just look at Acts 6 and 7.

Because of being full of faith, he was also “full of the Spirit and wisdom,” 6:3.  Notice:  this was before the apostles laid hands on him, 6:6, so we don’t have that excuse for a lack of wisdom and spirituality.  We can have those things too if we are filled to the brim with faith.

Because Stephen was full of faith, no one could “withstand him” when he spoke, 6:10.  And how did he speak?  He knew the scriptures.  From start to finish, he told his listeners the history of Israel, 7:1-50.  Could we come even close?

He was unafraid of confrontation, 7:51-53.  He never ran from opposition, even when it became clear he was in physical danger.  Discretion, according to Stephen, was cowardice, not valor.  We are often full of excuses for not speaking, instead of enough faith to speak out.

Stephen was completely confident of his salvation, 7:59.  He knew the Lord was waiting to receive him.  He didn’t flinch from saying so, and certainly never hemmed and hawed around about “maybe going to Heaven if he was good.”  He kept himself so that there was never any question, and his faith was probably no more evident than in that one statement, “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.”  Can we make the same statement?

His faith also showed by his forgiving others.  Just like the Lord he followed to death as the first Christian martyr, he asked Jesus to “lay not this sin to their charge,” 7:60.  The disciples recognized their own need and begged for more faith when Jesus told them they had to forgive over and over and over, (Luke 17:3-5).  Here is the proof they were correct—a man “full of faith” forgave his own murderers.  Can we even forgive the driver in the next lane?

What are you spilling on people?  What completely fills your heart and mind every day?  Is it politics?  Is it the latest Hollywood gossip?  Is it the stock market?  Is it complaints about anything and everything?  Is it the weaknesses of your brethren, and any slight, imagined or real, they might have done to you? 

Whatever we are full of will slosh out all over everyone who comes near us.  If we are full of faith, our lives will show it.  Don’t be a waitress when you fill your cup.

Now the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope, in the power of the Holy Spirit. And I myself also am persuaded of you, my brethren, that you yourselves are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, able also to admonish one another. Romans 15:13-14

And thanks to my husband for being such a good sport!  Dene Ward

Perhaps you remember that our property in north Florida was directly under a flight path.  Every day we saw flyovers by jetliners soaring toward the larger airport thirty miles away, single engine props puttering along, fighter jets in training leaving skeins of contrails in the sky, helicopters making life flights, and even the Budweiser blimp that flew so low over us I thought it might land in our field.  All of that led to a devotional, which lent its name to my first devotional book and then to this blog.
            And now we sit here in Tampa, a mile or so from a small airport and directly under another flight path.  Every morning as we sit outside sipping our third cup of coffee as we have done for so many years, everything from single engine props to traffic helicopters to company jets fly over us in the same southwestern line, or return on the path in a northeastern line every ten minutes or so.  We just can't seem to get away from flight paths.
            Which is fitting, for our lives all travel the same flight path.  Some may fly at higher or lower altitudes and some may experience more turbulence than others.  The stops along our journey may be different, but the destination is the same for us all—death.  But even physical death is not the final stop and for a believer that last stop is the point of it all.  The rest of the world will do all they can to lengthen the first part of the flight or even deny the final landing, but plastic surgery, inedible health food, and lifelong gym memberships will not change reality.  Death will come.
            And that's when our flight paths veer off on a different line.  How we lived along the first flight path will certainly make a difference, but trust in God's grace will land us right in the middle of those glorious promises of redemption and bliss, and in the arms of our Lord. 
            But some head toward another landing place, where their engines will sputter and stall over a tarmac cratered by sin, where they know they are crashing yet can do nothing about it, where the fire from that crash-landing will never cease, and there is no hope for a different ending.
            And so the first part of our flight path determines Flight Paths Part 2.  As long as you draw breath, it isn't too late to file a new flight plan.
 
For all our days pass away under your wrath; we bring our years to an end like a sigh. The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away (Ps 90:9-10).
 
Dene Ward

I had never heard of it before.  It was certainly never mentioned in high school history classes, nor college either.  The irony is thick enough to slice for dinner.
            The American Civil War was in full deadly swing and the Union needed more able-bodied men.  Congress passed a federal conscription law—all males, married or not, between 20 and 35, and unmarried men 35 to 45 were subject to duty—except African-Americans.  The men were chosen by lottery, but $300 could buy you a stand-in.  The only problem?  $300 was the annual salary for the average worker.  Compare that to today's median wage and you see that only the wealthy could afford to buy their way out.
            The first draft took place July 11, 1863.  On July 13 the rioting began in New York City.  Men who supposedly opposed the slave trade now blamed it and, not just the slaves themselves, but anyone of the same race.  The rioters attacked, in this order, the recruiting stations, other government buildings, black citizens, their homes and businesses, white abolitionists, and white women married to black men.
            It took 4,000 Federal troops, just returned from the battle of Gettysburg, to restore order.  An estimated 1,200 were killed and 3,000 black residents left homeless.  The 1863 Draft Riots in New York City remain the deadliest in US history, worse than the 1992 Los Angeles riots, and the 1967 Detroit riots.
            Funny how your scruples and beliefs can change when your own welfare, like being sent into armed combat, is threatened.  And that remains one of the evidences for the truth of the gospel.  Why would every apostle still claim the truth of Jesus' life, death, and resurrection even under threat of painful death, and all but John suffer it instead of recanting?  Because it was true.  They believed because they saw.  Why would people become Christians knowing that the next week it could cost them their lives?  Because the testimony from those eyewitnesses was overwhelming.
            Why would Jesus' brothers, James and Jude who had not believed during his lifetime, suddenly believe that Jesus was the Son of God?  And why would the great persecutor, Saul, give up every valuable things in his life and a glorious future in Judaism to proclaim the gospel?  Because they saw the resurrected Jesus.  They knew it was all true.  And when you see the evidence firsthand, and truly believe, nothing else matters.
            Those rioters in 1863 were suddenly revealed to be not as pro-abolition as they had claimed to be when it cost them.  They gave it up and actually fought to harm the cause.
            What about us?  Already people are losing businesses because of their moral stand.  I truly believe that persecution of some kind is coming.  What will it reveal about us?
 
But recall the former days when, after you were enlightened, you endured a hard struggle with sufferings, sometimes being publicly exposed to reproach and affliction, and sometimes being partners with those so treated. For you had compassion on those in prison, and you joyfully accepted the plundering of your property, since you knew that you yourselves had a better possession and an abiding one. Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. For, “Yet a little while, and the coming one will come and will not delay; ​but my righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.” But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls (Heb 10:32-39).
 
Dene Ward

Wives of probation officers learn to live with a lot of things, including fear.  As certified law enforcement officers their husbands regularly go into neighborhoods that well-armed policemen will not enter without back-up.  Yet they do it on a regular basis to keep track of their caseload, making sure they are where they are supposed to be and not out getting into trouble again.  Keeping the community safe by supervising convicted felons is their job.  They knock on doors every day, never knowing who might answer, or what condition they might be in (drunk, high, angry) and what they might be carrying with them.  Yes, it’s illegal for them to have a weapon, but they broke the law already, remember?  One time Keith came upon one of his people parked in front of a convenience store with a shotgun in the front seat next to him.

One of the other rules for the probationer is never to go near their supervising officer’s residence.  Most of them have no idea where their officers live anyway, and the office is not allowed to pass out that information, but when you live in a tiny rural county where practically everyone is related to or otherwise knows everyone else, they don’t even need a phone book to find their officers.  Twice I have had one of those people knock on the door, once when Keith had already left for work.  That is why I always lock my doors when I come inside, and why, since we had a fence put up, we lock the gate 24/7.

It’s a habit now.  I come in the door and shut it with a twist of the wrist and it’s locked.  I don’t even know I’ve done it. In fact, one time I walked outside to do something and locked myself out without realizing it. 

On the weekends, I regularly lock Keith out too.  He will be chopping wood or mowing the yard and I come back in from taking him a jug of water and—flip—it’s locked.  I don’t know until I hear him knocking at the door.  He never gets angry; he always says, “Good job,” and goes about his business.  Now, if I didn’t respond to his knock, that might be a different story.

Acts 6:7 tells us that many of the priests were “obedient to the faith.”  That word “obedient” is the same Greek word used in Acts 12:13.  Peter had been miraculously released from prison and ran to Mary’s house, where the church had met to pray.  He knocked at the door and Rhoda came to “answer”—that’s the word “obedient.”  Just as a knock on the door requires a response, the gospel knocking on our hearts requires one too.

First, let me praise poor little Rhoda.  This was a time of danger for the church.  Two had been arrested and one of those already killed.  The use of the word “maid[en]” or “damsel” tells me she was unmarried and therefore quite young.  Yet she is the one who was sent to answer the door.  What if it had been Herod’s soldiers?  Then she finds Peter standing there and is so excited she forgets to let him in.  It takes others coming to respond to the continued knocking for Peter to actually get into the house.

A lot of charlatans who claim to be preachers of the faith will tell you that all you have to do is look out the door and recognize the Lord and you will be saved.  Faith is merely mental assent, with perhaps a lot of excitement thrown in, too much to actually get the door opened, to prove its sincerity, but this word requires some action.  Those priests in Acts 6 were “obedient” to the faith.  They responded completely and fully to whatever was asked of them.  “Mental assent” is not an appropriate response to the gospel, any more than me looking out the diamond-shaped pane of glass at my locked-out husband and waving, “Hi!”

How many professional athletes have you seen wearing crosses and “thanking their Lord” before going out to live exactly the way they want to instead of the way He wants them to?  Too many.  But what about those of us who do not live with such public scrutiny?  How many times do we tell the Lord, even after having “obeyed the gospel” as if it were a one-and-done deal, I’m happy to serve as long as it doesn’t cost too much money or take too much of my precious time, as long as everyone does things my way (which is the only smart way), or calls me every day to check on me and take care of my every whim?

The Lord is knocking on the door and He wants far more than your words.  He wants all of you, your heart and your life, your total submission to His way of doing things.  Don’t just nod at Him through the peephole.  Either answer the door and let Him in, or allow Him to go on to someone who really wants Him there.

As many as I love, I reprove and chasten: be zealous therefore, and repent. Behold, I stand at the door and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. He who overcomes, I will give to him to sit down with me in my throne, as I also overcame, and sat down with my Father in his throne. Revelation 3:19-21

Dene Ward

Everyone who cooks on a budget knows what filler is.  If you called things by the relative amount of their ingredients, I served my family dumplings and chicken, spaghetti with sauce and meat, and potato and beef stew.  At times it should probably have been called loaf meat instead of meat loaf.  Even now the two of us split a chicken breast between us or share one pork chop, then load the plate with “filler.”  Filler is the cheap stuff, the stuff that costs a minuscule amount of the protein on the plate, but fills up the eater twice as fast—potatoes, rice, noodles, bread. 
            Sometimes we treat certain verses in the Bible as filler.  We skim the genealogies and miss relationships and facts that would open up the ‘more interesting” parts.  We treat the addresses and farewells in the epistles the same way.
            All who are with me send greetings to you. Greet those who love us in the faith. Grace be with you all, Titus 3:15. 
            I was working on some class material on faith when I read that passage and nearly skipped over it as useless.  Then I found an alternate translation, one of those I seldom look at because they are just a bit too loose, but it opened my mind to the possibilities in this verse.  Greetings to you from everyone here. Greet all of our friends who share in our faith. I pray that the Lord will be kind to all of you! (Contemporary English Version)
            Look at that middle sentence:  Greet all of our friends who share in our faith.  Now read the other one again. Greet those who love us in the faith.
            How many of your friends and neighbors will tell you that you can be a Christian without participating in what they sneeringly call “organized religion?”  What they mean by that is they can have faith in God without having to worry about being members of a church, answering to the ordained authority in that church, or being obligated to serve anyone else in that church.  Yet Paul told Titus that part of being in the faith was recognizing (greeting) the others who share that faith with you, those who, because of that shared faith, love you. 
            Those friends will tell you, “Of course I love people,” but John said, Let us not love in word or in talk, but in deed and in truth 1 John 3:18.  You can’t sit at home in your easy chair and love anyone.
            The New Testament tells us in passage after passage that our lives are judged by how we treat “one another.”  Love one another, we are told.  Be at peace with one another.  Welcome one another.  Instruct one another.  Wait for one another.  Care for one another.  Comfort one another.  Agree with one another.  Serve one another.  Bear one another’s burdens. Be kind to one another and forgive one another.  Bear with one another.  Submit to one another.  Encourage one another.  Show hospitality to one another.  Confess your faults to one another.  Consider one another.  Exhort one another.  Do good to one another.  I defy anyone to do these things outside the fellowship of a group of people.
            And I pity anyone who has not experienced the joy of bumping into a brother or sister as you run your daily errands, who has not felt instant camaraderie with people you have never met before when you walk into a meetinghouse in an unfamiliar city, the absolute sense of haven and relief that spreads through you simply because you and someone else are bound by the grace of God.  As Paul seems to imply in that “filler” of a verse, it cannot help but affect your faith.
 
…and the Lord added to the church daily such as were being saved, Acts 2:47.
 
Dene Ward

We got the call that Sunday morning at 5:32.  We were on the road as soon as we could be, but Silas’s little brother Judah beat us there by half an hour.  Mommy and Daddy had waited as long as they could, their three year old sitting big-eyed and quiet in the labor room, but ultimately had to call a church couple to take him.
            About 1:00 that afternoon those helpful people brought Silas back to the hospital, where we sat in the room with Brooke and Nathan, new baby Judah lying in a special bed under a warming light.  It took far longer than it should have to get that baby’s body temperature to an appropriate number. 
            Silas, still a bit confused, and very tired, ran straight to his parents.  Nathan lifted him into his arms and carried him over to the little bed.  He looked down at his four hour old, wrinkly red baby brother, his tiny head still misshapen from his passage into the world, and said, “What’s that?”
            I couldn’t help it.  A bubble of laughter escaped me at his innocent honesty.  When we told him this was his little brother Judah, the one who had been in Mommy’s tummy, his little head swung back and forth between his mommy and the figure in the clear, plastic bed, his eyes full of skepticism.  This was not what he expected.
            It took a couple of weeks for him to really come around, but who could blame him?  He was expecting a brother like the brothers and sisters his little friends had, and probably just as big.  He was expecting a playmate, but every time he shared his toys, the little interloper simply lay there and slept.  Where is the fun in that?  But children are nothing if not adaptable, and his little brother is growing on him.
            I fear some people look on their lives as Christians with the same skepticism with which Silas first viewed Judah.  Freedom, they were promised, but all they see are rules.  Joy, they were promised, yet they still suffer the same trials, illnesses, and financial problems as everyone else, even the same ones as before they were converted.  They’ve lost friends, and rifts in the family are worse than ever.  They expected people to come running at their every beck and call, yet every Sunday the preacher, an elder, a Bible class teacher—or maybe all three!!—tells them they have to serve others.
            Jesus dealt with the same problem among his followers.  Some came expecting to be entertained (Luke 7:32; 23:8).  Some came expecting to be fed (John 6:26).  Some came expecting to be part of a victorious army and a glorious kingdom here on the earth (Luke 19:11).  Very few “came around,” changing their expectations to match his offered reality.  He never changed his offer—if they wouldn’t accept it, he simply sent them away.  He drove off far more than ever accepted him (John 6:43-67).
            Sometimes we have to do the same.  We cannot change the church the Lord bought with His own blood to suit the carnal nature of an unspiritual world—we don’t have that right.  Be careful what you offer your friends and neighbors. God didn’t promise lives of ease, health and wealth, or even a church family that always behaves itself.  The test of faith comes when things are difficult, not when they are easy.
            The church wasn’t what the Jews expected.  As a result most of them missed out on the promised kingdom.  Examine your own expectations.  Make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to you.
 
For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. Whoever thus serves Christ is acceptable to God and approved by men. Romans 14:17-18
 
 

Last year we made a distressing discovery—the seam sealing tape on the rain fly to our tent had come loose.  Unfortunately, we made this discovery in the middle of the night during a driving rainstorm when water suddenly began pouring on us as we lay in our sleeping bags.
            So before our latest camping trip, we pulled out the fly and set about resealing the tape.  We found out that not all the tape had come undone, just the places where more stress was put on the fly—at the staking points and over the top where it stretched tightly across the tent poles.  I suppose that makes sense.  After all, where is it that your pants are more likely to rip but where and when you stretch those seams the most?  In the back when you bend over.
            That brought to mind the disciples’ request for the Lord to “Increase our faith.”  I had always thought of this as a simple request, sort of a “Help me get better” generic prayer.  Suddenly I thought to check the context.  Maybe there was a reason for the request, maybe those men were under some sort of stress.  So I looked up Luke 17:5 and checked the verses immediately ahead of that one.
            Stress?  Jesus had just given them a laundry list of commands that would have stressed anyone out.
            “Temptation is sure to come,” he begins in verse 1.  Not “may come” or even “will probably come,” but “sure to come.”  If ever a Christian feels stress it is during temptation.  Yes, I think I might need increased faith to handle those times. 
            Then he goes on to talk about those who cause others to stumble.  I suppose nothing stresses me out more than worrying about how what I say or do may affect others, especially since I teach and write so much.  Yes, I need more faith to keep teaching and keep writing, especially when I receive negative reactions or hear of someone who misused what I have said, and even more when I realize I have made a careless word choice.
            Then Jesus tells them to forgive, even if the same person does the same thing over and over and over and over.  This is where, in an almost comedic outcry, we hear them shout, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  As often as those same men misunderstood and failed to comprehend Jesus’ teaching, they certainly understood the need for faith when it comes to mercy and forgiveness.  We really haven’t reached the pinnacle of that Divine trait until we can say, “I forgive you,” without adding or even thinking, “Again.”
            Look up the other places where we are told to strengthen or increase or add to our faith and you will discover other areas of stress that could trip you up—times when divisions occur, when sinful desires rear their ugly heads, when we need to love the unlovable, when we are told to obey whether we understand it or not.  All of these things can create stress in our lives, and endanger our souls.
            “Pay attention to yourselves,” Jesus told those men in the midst of his teaching (v 3).  Don’t be caught unawares in the middle of a storm.  “Increase your faith” and so be prepared. 
 
We ought always to give thanks to God for you, brothers, as is right, because your faith is growing abundantly, and the love of every one of you for one another is increasing. Therefore we ourselves boast about you in the churches of God for your steadfastness and faith in all your persecutions and in the afflictions that you are enduring. This is evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be considered worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you are also suffering-- 2 Thessalonians 1:3-5.   
 
Dene Ward

This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him (Eph 3:11-12).
            This is another verse that caught my attention when we did our study of faith, especially when I looked up the Greek word for boldness--parresia.  The word actually refers to our speech and means things like outspoken, blunt, or frank.  The immediate context, "access" means when we pray to God we needn't fear how we say things.  Be frank with God, talk to Him about things that really bother you, things that you might feel uncomfortable bringing up to a High and Holy God.  You can.  It's okay.  We can do that now that we have a High Priest who understands.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Heb 4:15-16).
            But back up another couple of verses in Ephesians and notice another meaning this might have.  And to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places (Eph 3:9-10).  When we make known the mystery, the same mystery Paul revealed v 8, it sometimes takes a good deal of boldness.  God expects his people to speak the truth "with all boldness" (Acts 28:31), frankly, and even bluntly and in an outspoken manner.  We are not to cower behind mealy-mouthed sentiments that leave people wondering what in the world we are talking about.  In fact, coupled with verse 12, Paul says we can do this because of the faith we have in Christ.  No plain speech equals no faith, or at best, a weak one.
            If you think political correctness has not invaded the church, just try putting this into action.  Someone will immediately direct you to the nearest Dale Carnegie course.  But in fact, smooth speech is soundly condemned in the New Testament.  For they that are such serve not our Lord Christ, but their own belly; and by their smooth and fair speech they beguile the hearts of the innocent (Rom 16:18).
              While there is certainly a place for carefully choosing our words, when a sinner leaves the room without knowing he has been rebuked, what good has it done him?  What love for his immortal soul has been shown?  In fact, his heart has been beguiled by "smooth and fair speech".  And the speaker has lacked boldness and faith.
           
Having therefore such a hope, we use great plainness of speech (2Cor 3:12).

Dene Ward