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

A few years ago, everyone knew what happened on April 15, 1912, because they had seen the movie.  We don't do movies—a deaf husband cannot enjoy them—but even if we could have gone, I had no desire to see that one.  I already knew how it ended—the ship sank.  So missing Leonardo and Kate was no great loss to me.  But recently I discovered something about that event that did affect me profoundly.  On April 21, 1912, six days after the Titanic went down, the last body was pulled from the Atlantic Ocean by men on board the rescue ship MacKay-Bennett.  It was the body of a fair-haired little boy around two years of age.
            I had two fair-haired little boys, and two more now as grandsons, so I read on with my heart galloping.  The article, from 2011, was featured on nbcnews.com.  It took nearly 100 years to identify that baby boy, but with the help of DNA and some persistence, they finally did.  Sidney Leslie Godwin was 19 months old.  He had boarded the ship with both his parents and five brothers and sisters.  All of them perished.
            I have not stopped thinking of the last moments for those parents and those children.  Every mother I know would die for her children, and I imagine little Sidney's would have too.  Yet she died but could not save him, nor any of the others.  I know that when my first was born, I promptly began having nightmares about losing him, about the house catching on fire and me unable to get to him, about him becoming ill and me unable to cure him, about someone stealing him from his crib and running off with him, about every possible way to lose a child I had ever heard of.  So now I sit and wonder about little Sidney's last moments, and his poor mother's, who could do nothing to help.
            I imagine that is not too uncommon.  But as I look out on some parents I know and see the ways they are raising their children, not teaching them about God, not taking them to their Bible classes, allowing the entire family to miss the assembly of the saints for every little thing that comes along, overlooking the inappropriate clothing they must wear for the activities they want to be in, refusing to say no to television shows, movies, and video games that are unsuitable for a child of God, it seems obvious that few, if any, are afraid of their children losing their souls.
            We know that we made mistakes.  We have even heard about a few of them from our boys.  But I doubt they would deny that we taught them as much about God as we could, enough to make sure they knew it should be the most important part of their lives.  Many parents worry about their children making a good living, but frankly, the most important thing to us is that, as I write this, they both have their spiritual lives in order.  If not, I would be having those nightmares again, knowing they were lost and unable to "fix it" like Mamas are supposed to do. 
           We will probably die before they do, but if we were to die knowing they were not in a right relationship with their God, it would be a horrible death, no matter how easy it was physically.  That would be the greatest hurt they could ever do us.
           What about you and your parents?  Does your life break their hearts and leave them in agony?  And what about your children?  If you have not taught them about God, you might as well have thrown them out into the icy waters of the North Atlantic without a life preserver.  At least that horrible death would be quicker than what awaits you both.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments (Ps 103:17-18).
 
Dene Ward

On April 12, 1577, Christian IV, who became king of Denmark and Norway, was born.  And why is he important, you ask?  It's a bit of a story, but leads us to today's point beautifully.
             Oslo, the capital of Norway, had been declared such in 1314.  In 1524, Norway became the junior partner in the Denmark-Norway Union.  Internal squabbles had made them vulnerable to a takeover, and this union seemed the easiest way to handle it.  In 1624 the city was destroyed by a fire.  It had been a good distance from the fortress that protected it, so Christian IV, who was considered by the Norwegians a Danish king, moved it closer to its protection and rebuilt it, naming it after himself, Christiania.  (Along the way, the Norwegians decided to become more "Norwegian" and changed the spelling to Kristiania.)
            By 1924, the 300th anniversary of the city, Norway had once again gained its independence and had been so for 110 years.  Being named after a Danish king wrankled a bit.  So on January 1, 1925, Oslo regained its original Norwegian name.  The name of that city meant something to its people, and that's what we are getting at today.
            He called the name of that place Bethel, but the name of the city was Luz at the first, Gen 28:19.
            Jacob had just wakened from his dream of a ladder to Heaven.  God had earlier confirmed the blessing on him that his father Isaac had given him by mistake, proving that while Isaac might have been blind, God certainly was not—the correct son received the blessing.  And so Jacob called that place “Beth-el,” the house of God.
            Fast forward several centuries and Hosea goes to Bethel, where Jeroboam I had set up one of his golden calves by which the people could worship Jehovah, “the god who brought you out of Egypt.”  By the time of Hosea most of them weren’t even pretending to worship Jehovah any longer.  This was full-fledged idolatry.  Hosea refused any longer to call it “Bethel.”
            …Enter not into Gilgal, nor go up to Beth-aven, and swear not, “As the LORD lives.” Hos 4:15.
            Three times Hosea addresses the place that way.  It was no longer “the house of God.”  It was instead Beth-aven, “the house of vanity,” or deception, or iniquity, or evil, or several other translated words, all of which made Hosea’s point quite plain.  Bethel was supposed to be a description of who was worshipped, adored, respected, and revered in that place, and it no longer qualified for the name.  Instead of “Beth-el,” it had become “Beth-aven.”
            So let’s think about this today.  We use a similar description for ourselves:  “church of Christ.”  That means we belong to Christ, we obey him, we worship him, his is the opinion that counts, not ours.  Can you still say that about the group you are a member of?  Or has it become a social group with its own rules and its own “politics?”  Has it become a place where men get together and vote on things that have nothing to do with the mission Jesus left his disciples to complete?  Can you find authority--His authority—for everything you do?  Jesus himself said in Matthew 20 that authority can only come from two places—God or man, and his acceptance of that proves that he expected you to have it.
            Too many times we ask the wrong question:  what is a church of Christ?  The question we ought to be asking is this:  when is a church of Christ?  Is it time to change the sign on your door?
 
And he put all things under his feet and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all. Eph 1:22-23
 
Dene Ward

The modern pencil was invented in 1795 by Nicholas-Jacques Conte.  Those of us who grew up thinking the black in the middle of a pencil was lead, at least until we discovered the dangers of that material, are wrong.  It has always been graphite, one of the softest minerals there is.  Graphite itself was discovered in Bavaria in the early 1400s, but centuries earlier the Aztecs had used it in chunks to write with.  It took this French scientist, who was serving with Napoleon's army, to construct the first wood-enclosed stick of graphite we call a pencil.
            Erasers were invented after Charles Goodyear invented the process called the vulcanization of rubber.  And finally, on March 30, 1858, Hymen Lipman received the first patent for attaching an eraser to the end of a pencil.  Another piece of trivia for you:  the metal piece holding that eraser is called a ferrule.
            This morning I brought four pencils in here by the desk to sharpen.  I gather them up from here and there, all colors, all brands.  Ticonderoga yellow may be the most famous brand, but I haven't a one of those to my name.  The erasers are all in different levels of use.  A couple already sport one of those separate ones you put on the top because the one they came with is totally flat.
So I will grab my old fashioned school sharpener, the one with the hand crank, and get them all back to their pointy selves and ready for use.  Then I will carry them back to the windowsill next to my chair to use with my crossword puzzles.  No, I do not do my puzzles in ink.  Well, if it's a Los Angeles Times Crossword, even their Sunday crossword, I do.  But a New York Times Crossword—no way.  It will wind up a mess if I try.
            The Los Angeles Times Sunday Crossword is so easy I can do it in ink in just about 15 minutes.  Once in a great while it will take 20.  I might have one or two squares where I have had to go over a mistake in darker ink to correct it, but most of the time it is clean and legible, without a single blotch.  But the New York Times' puzzle takes me nearly an hour and quite a bit of erasing.  If I tried it in ink, I probably wouldn't be able to read it for the mess I made.  I may love to do those puzzles, but I am not an expert by any stretch of the imagination.  You know those people who finish the marathon three hours after everyone else, coming in while the banners and signs are being taken down?  That's me doing a New York Times Sunday Crossword.  All I can say is, I get it done.  And hurray for pencils and, especially, erasers.
            Jesus is my pencil and God is my eraser. 
           The Lord's sacrifice is far larger than we usually give him credit for.  Not to diminish it in the least, but he didn't just die for us and rise from the dead for us, a process that took no more than three days.  He lived a lifetime for us as a human being, experiencing the same trials and sorrows we do.  God, mind you--and he did it without the failings we so often want to excuse because we are "only human."  When we do that, we insult that sacrifice, because he became human and made himself susceptible to sin so he could show us how, to demonstrate that we most certainly can do it, especially with his  example and his help—or will we insult those, too?
            No, life is not a Los Angeles Times Crossword puzzle.  God never told us it would be easy.  He promised us "thorns and thistles" and "sweat of the brow."  He said we would have to kill our old man (crucify it) and become something brand new.  He may have said, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light," but it's still a yoke and a burden.
            But then he tells me that all is not lost if I do fail.  After all, this life is written in pencil if we just repent, get back on our feet, and try again, determined to go farther than the last time, determined to improve—not to make excuses.  If we are not using the pencil the Lord gave us, is it because we have just given up?  Have we lost our confidence and just decided to do nothing at all so we won't make a mistake?  Have we lost our trust in the eraser God uses, the one that will erase that error like it never happened, leaving clean, white paper without even a smudge, ready for the next attempt?  And with his help, we might even get the right answer the next time.
            When we refuse to try, when we make excuses for our failure and refuse to admit our wrong, that's when we are writing in ink.  We can go over it and over it and over it, making it darker and uglier with every try, and everyone will still see the obvious error.  Maybe everyone but the one who needs to see the truth the most--me.  And it can never be erased, if that is the attitude we have.
            Far better to follow the Lord's example.  Far better to be tough and work hard and try again and again and again.  Pencil is, after all, easily erased.
 
If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.  (1John 1:6-7).
 
Dene Ward

The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory was owned by Max Blanck and Isaac Harris.  It occupied the top three floors of the Asch Building on the corner of Greene Street and Washington Place in Manhattan.  It was the typical sweat shop of the early 20th century.
            Young immigrant women who spoke no English worked in lines of sewing machines twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for which they were paid $15 a week.  As for safety, only one of the elevators was functional and it was a long narrow corridor away from the workshop.  Two stairways led to two doors.  One was always locked, and the other opened only inwards.  The fire escape was too narrow for safe evacuation and there was no sprinkler system.  How did they get away with this?  New York City was full of graft and corruption in its government, especially among inspectors.  Grease a few palms and you could get away with anything.  This was a disaster waiting to happen and happen it did.
            600 workers showed up on March 25, 1911, a Saturday.  It is thought that the fire started in a rag bin.  The fire hose was rotten and the valve had rusted shut.  The one elevator only held 12 and only made four runs before breaking down.  The remaining 550 or so workers were left to fend for themselves.
            The fire was over in 18 minutes, but in those few minutes 49 women burned to death.  36 died in the elevator shaft.  58 died from jumping out of windows, and two others died later from the injuries they incurred, making a total of 145.  Do you want to hear how the injustice continued?  The grand jury indicted the owners for second degree manslaughter, yet at the trial, they were acquitted.  Civil suits were brought and they finally paid $75 per lost life, even though their insurance company had paid them $400 each for their lost workers.  Research more and it will only make you angrier.  Quite plainly, the workers at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory were disposable people who had no dependable way of escape from any catastrophe that came their way.
              Yet another reason for gratitude to our Father in Heaven.  He offers a "way of escape" from every temptation (1 Cor 10:13).   …he will establish you and guard you against the evil one (2 Thes 3:3).  He who called you is faithful; he will surely do it (1 Thes 5:24).
            If God is for us, who can be against us ? (Rom 8:31)  God has promised to never leave us in a position where we cannot escape sin, where we cannot win against the Devil.  That leaves us obligated to make every effort to find that escape, rather than using the strength of the temptation as an excuse.  We can find our way out, and though it may sometimes be difficult, it is never impossible to escape.  God is not liable if we do not.
 
The saying is trustworthy, for: If we have died with him, we will also live with him; ​if we endure, we will also reign with him; if we deny him, he also will deny us; ​if we are faithless, he remains faithful— for he cannot deny himself (2Tim 2:11-13).
 
Dene Ward

On February 14, 2018, a young man who had recently been expelled from the school, opened fire at the Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, and killed 17 people, injuring 17 others as well.  That night several prayer vigils were held in the area.  At one of them, people were asked to list one good thing they would do in the near future to help turn the anger, shock, and grief of the gathered crowd into something positive.  According to the New York Post, as a result of that challenge in the next few days prayers were read for the murderer, Nikolas Cruz.  What kind of prayers?  "We ask that you would intervene in his disturbed mind and show him the hope that can only be found in you," was only one of several of that attitude prayed.  Perhaps we all need to ask ourselves if we could have prayed such a thing after our child had been slaughtered by this man.  It might not be such a stretch to think that one day we may be called upon to do the same.

Jesus told a story that even the most Biblically ignorant people in the world have heard.  We call it “The Good Samaritan.”  Most of us have never actually been in the shoes of either of these men.  Oh, we may have been on the side of the road with a flat tire or a broken fan belt or an overheated radiator, and maybe someone even stopped and helped us, but I doubt we have ever filled every variable of this example.

A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Luke 10:30-35.

Understand this:  the relationship between Jew and Samaritan was even worse than black and white, and maybe even Jew and Gentile.  “On all public occasions, Samaritans took the part hostile to the Jews, while they seized every opportunity of injuring and insulting them…they sold many Jews into slavery…they waylaid and killed pilgrims on their road to Jerusalem.  The Jews retaliated by treating the Samaritans with every mark of contempt; by accusing them of falsehood, folly, and irreligion; and…by disowning them as [being] of the same race or religion, and this in the most offensive terms of assumed superiority and self-righteous fanaticism” (Edersheim, The Life and Times of Jesus the Messiah). 

These two men not only disagreed politically, they disagreed religiously as well.  Their people hated one another, mistreated one another; they were violent and malicious in every way possible.  Yet here is one who finds himself in need and his “enemy” takes care of him.  And not just minimally.  The Samaritan left “two denarii” to care for the Jew.  A denarius was a day’s wage for a skilled laborer—think carpenter, plumber, or mason in our day, and the wage those men make an hour, then multiply it out for two days’ worth of wages.  That is the equivalent of what the Samaritan left for a complete stranger, and an enemy at that.

Now think today of someone who fits that description—a stranger who is a member of an enemy nation, one that is violent, who hates us, and who is also of a different religion.  Do I have to spell it out?

So you drive by and see someone on the side of the road who is obviously one of those people by his looks and dress—or maybe at the last rest area you saw him on his prayer rug looking to the east so you know exactly what he is.  What are you going to do?  If Jesus’ story does not apply here, it applies nowhere.

The posts I have seen by some of my brethren on Facebook appall me.  I do not see a kind people who would care even for those we disagree with, as Jesus did when he healed Malchus’s ear, but an angry people who would wish them harm.  What are we thinking?  “Stop this!” Jesus told Peter when he drew his sword.  “Any who take the sword will perish by the sword" Matt 26:52.
​
Jesus also described the citizens of his spiritual kingdom this way:  You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, ​so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. ​For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? ​You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect. Matt 5:43-48  

I never thought that passage would actually mean something to me someday.  I don’t have enemies, at least none who might wish me harm, but that possibility is becoming more and more real, and that means that passage is becoming one we may have to use one of these days.  Do not become like the unbelievers who ignore the entire Bible by ignoring this one verse in your own life.  The same God wrote it all.

In the Roman Empire Christians often gave themselves away because they were kind not only to their own, but also to their pagan neighbors, even those who had been unkind to them.  Everyone knew, “Only Christians do that.” 
Is that what they would say about you?
 
Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them… Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Rom 12:14-21
 
Dene Ward
 

Entitlements are the biggest government programs in the US.  In 2016, the Social Security program cost $916 billion, Medicare $595 billion, Medicaid an estimated $651 billion and all other welfare programs an estimated $433 billion.  What began as an almost negligible part of the national debt in 1900 is now an estimated 17% of all national spending.
            When did this happen?  The largest jump in entitlement spending occurred during the Great Society programs of 1964-65, but most people trace the root back to the Depression and Roosevelt's New Deal programs.  Just to have a date, the Social Security Act was passed January 17, 1935, with the creation of the original "Welfare", AFDC, and the relief programs we have today.  At that time "relief" was $18 per month for one child and $12 per additional child.
            Entitlement programs are not necessarily bad.   When a man has had his wages taxed his whole life, I see little wrong with his picking up a Social Security check.  He is, theoretically, just getting his money back, money he loaned to the government for their use and which they are returning.  But entitlement in general has become a bad word.  To most of us it means "the belief that one is inherently deserving of special treatment," and not because it is earned.
            I wish I had a nickel for every conservative politician, even every Christian, I’ve heard complaining about people who have entitlement issues.  The ones who act like the world owes them a living; like they should never have to reap the consequences of their sown wild oats; who think that having money or, interestingly enough, NOT having money, makes them exempt from the laws of the land.  While I find myself agreeing with most of those opinions, I also see this:  every one of them, politician and Christian alike, has an entitlement issue of his own.
            First there is the husband who wants everything done in a certain way, even if it is a lot more work for his wife; who demands certain foods cooked a certain way and served with certain other foods or he refuses to eat it; who requires every item of clothing pressed, even if they are permanent press and no one else will know the difference; who wants his big boy toys because he’s “worked hard and earned it,” even if it means others in the family will do without needs.  After all, he is the head of the house.
            Then there is the wife who wants everything the neighbors have, even if the neighbor makes a lot more money; who thinks she must have plenty of time and money allotted for preening; who considers sacrificing for her family a kind of torture; who believes that life is for recreation and begrudges every minute she must spend caring for the children or keeping the house or cooking meals; who recites her list of woes to anyone who will listen every time she has the opportunity so she can be properly pitied and praised for dealing with them.  After all no one should have to go without a new pair of shoes for every outfit.
            And don’t forget the children these two raise:  selfish, materialistic whiners who are never satisfied; who think that their parents owe them every new electronic gizmo the world creates; and who never once utter the word, “Thank you,” much less actually treat their parents with enough respect and courtesy to even look up from their phones and carry on a civil conversation.  After all, they didn’t ask to be born so they deserve everything they want to make up for it.
            Do you think these attitudes haven’t invaded the church?  Where do you think we get those members who refuse to do as they are asked for the sake of visitors from the community?  Why, no one can have my perfect parking place (under the shade tree) or my perfect seat (in the rear).  Why do you think we have people who treat their precious opinions like the first principles of Christianity—basic and undeniable, and shame on anyone who isn’t as enlightened as I am?  Where do they come from, the people who will raise an argument about the trivial just to show their smarts and regardless of who may need the larger point being made?  Or the ones who, when they suffer, raise their fists at God and complain, “I’ve served you all my life.  Why me?” as if they could have ever earned any blessing at all?
            And why do you think we have such a hard time overcoming a single besetting sin?  “That’s just the way I am,” we think, as if the Lord should count Himself blessed to have us and overlook it.
            Yes, we are all guilty.  And what does Jesus have to say about that when he hears us pontificating about “those people” with entitlement issues?
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye, Matt 7:3-5.
            Be careful the next time you rant about entitlement.
 
Dene Ward

I love shortbread—at its simplest, real butter, flour, sugar, in a ratio of 3 to 2 to 1.  Pat it in a pan and bake it in a low oven.  With black coffee, or hot chocolate, or hot tea, or even good old Southern sweet tea to wash it down, I am happy.  And today makes me especially happy because it is National Shortbread Day.
            What does this have to do with history, you ask?  Like most other things, shortbread has a history.  It was invented sometime in the 12th Century by Scottish women who took leftover bread dough, sweetened it, and then dried it out in the oven to form something called a "rusk", a twice-baked biscuit.  Over time, the yeast in the dough was traded out for butter, and that suddenly made this an expensive treat saved mainly for special occasions.   Everyone loved it, including Mary, Queen of Scots, whose bakers refined the cookie to suit her tastes in the 16th Century.  She was especially fond of a version called Petticoat Tails which were flavored with caraway seeds.
            As to why January 6 was chosen for National Shortbread Day, I have been unable to find the answer.  I wondered if Queen Mary's history had anything to do with it, but no, neither her birth nor death date is January 6, nor was the date of her ascension to the throne.  So we will just be satisfied that today is the day and not worry about why.  Any reason is a good one for eating shortbread.
            One thing I like about shortbread is its versatility.  You can pat it in a round cake pan and cut it into wedges after it is baked.  You can pat it into an oblong pan and cut the finished cookies into fingers, triangles, or squares.  You can roll out the dough and cut it into shapes before baking.  You can stamp an emblem on it.
            Add some chopped toasted pecans and you have pecan shortbread.  Roll those into balls, and roll the baked cookies in powdered sugar and you have pecan sandies.
Exchange almond paste for some of the butter.  Leave out the vanilla and add almond extract; brush the dough with egg white and sprinkle with sparkling sugar and sliced almonds.  Suddenly your simple shortbread is almond shortbread.
            Add the grated zest of a lemon instead of vanilla.  Slather the cooked bars with a glaze made of the same lemon’s juice and some powdered sugar—iced lemon shortbread bars.  (Warning:  this is an adult cookie; kids are not crazy about it.)
            Cut your plain old shortbread into fingers.  Then, after baking and cooling, dip one end into melted semi-sweet or bittersweet chocolate.  Leave some plain chocolate.  Dip others in chopped nuts before the chocolate sets.  Plain shortbread has suddenly become elegant.
            You can even use shortbread dough as the base for a layered dessert.  Just bake it and cool it first, enough to cover a 9 x 13 pan.  Add chopped nuts or not before baking as you please.  The layers can be three or four of your choosing—various flavors and mixings of pudding, peanut butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar, fruit pie fillings, drained crushed pineapple, sweetened whipped cream, chopped nuts, toasted coconut, chopped chocolate bars, whatever you can imagine.  Chill and cut into layered squares, either light or rich, depending on your choices.  And it all started with a base of butter, flour, and sugar.
            Any time I hear someone say the Bible is no longer relevant, I think of shortbread.  It doesn’t matter for which of life’s situations you need guidance, God’s word contains something to help you.  Not only does it include the principles of marriage, but several real life examples as well—everything from good, sound marriages to marriages dealing with unfaithfulness and abuse.  The same is true with childrearing.  We are not stuck with abstract ideas like “raise your children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.”  We have examples of parents who made a mess of things—favoritism, lack of discipline, provocation, poor teaching.  We have parents who loved too much and in the wrong ways.  And we have the results of all those mistakes in heartbreaking detail.
            We have stories of neighbors who couldn’t get along and how they settled things.  We have stories of servants (think “employees”) who served well, and those who didn’t, and what made the difference.  We have stories of good masters (employers) and bad.  We have stories of those who handled power well and those who did not.  And if you can’t find exactly the same circumstances you need help with, “As you would that men should do unto you, do you also unto them,” covers a whole lot of territory, including email and cell phone etiquette.
            Just as shortbread can fit any situation from a children’s lunch to a family meal to an elegant party, God’s word works no matter what situation you find yourself in.  Keep a close eye out and I think you will find that people who think the Bible is irrelevant simply don’t want to follow its guidelines.  It isn’t that God says nothing about their situation; it’s that they don’t like His solution.
But that is nothing new either.  Ahab, one of the wickedest kings in Israel’s history, said of the prophet Micaiah, “I don’t like him because he never says anything good about me.”  There was a way to fix that; Ahab just didn’t like the remedy.
            God does not leave his children without guidance in every situation they might encounter.  It is up to us to find that guidance and obey it.
 
The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy;
They are established forever and ever, to be performed with faithfulness and uprightness, Psalm 111:7,8.
 
Dene Ward
 

Then the king of Egypt said to the Hebrew midwives, one of whom was named Shiphrah and the other Puah, “When you serve as midwife to the Hebrew women and see them on the birthstool, if it is a son, you shall kill him, but if it is a daughter, she shall live.” But the midwives feared God and did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but let the male children live (Exod 1:15-17).
            Those verses seem straightforward enough, don't they?  So I thought until I started digging a little deeper.  Imagine my surprise to find out that several conservative Bible scholars, meaning they believe that the Bible is actually God's Word, say that the Hebrew here is in the genitive case and can be translated "midwives of the Hebrew women," meaning [Egyptian] midwives who served Hebrew women. Logic also comes to play in that how could Pharaoh have expected Hebrew women to kill the infants of their own people, and that the Hebrew women themselves, were probably toiling as slaves for Pharaoh rather than working in service roles to others.  However, Keil and Delitzch, two of the most notable conservative scholars of their time, come right out and say, "The midwives were Hebrews." 
            So why does any of that matter?  Just this:  if these women were Hebrews, they as a nation understood the sanctity of life as far back as 3000+ years ago.  If they were Egyptians, we can be even more amazed that pagans believed in the sanctity of life.  Some things were just understood—you don't slaughter babies. 
           Fast forward a couple thousand years and you will find Cicero, the Roman statesman, lawyer, and scholar, stating in his On the Laws 3.8, "Deformed infants shall be killed."  That "deformity" included an unwanted child, a sickly child, a deformed child, or simply a child of the "wrong" gender.  Seneca, the Roman philosopher said, "…mad dogs we knock on the head…unnatural progeny we destroy; we drown even children at birth who are weakly and abnormal."
            After reading that, it is surprising to find that a few centuries before, killing infants was not looked on favorably.  The Etruscans were notable in that they raised all the children borne to them.  These people influenced the Roman Empire until about 400 BC, and things seemed to take a downhill turn from there.  By the time of Caesar Augustus, the one who taxed the Roman world in the first century, the institution of the family had become so endangered that he enacted laws against adultery and "unchastity."  Epictetus, a stoic philosopher of the same era, stated that even a sheep or a wolf does not abandon its own offspring.  Thus the "progress" of the Roman Empire was actually seen as their downfall by some of their own.  Not every Roman believed babies could be killed just to suit their parents' lifestyles.
            And what has happened to us?  Have we "progressed" like the Roman Empire?  Are you aware that some infants are born alive after abortions and then left to die?  If this is progress, I want no part of it.  And neither did a lot of pagans. 
             
For when Gentiles, who do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that the work of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts accuse or even excuse them  (Rom 2:14-15).
 
Dene Ward
 

On August 27, 1776, George Washington and his troops retreated from New York City across the East River as the British swarmed the city.  On September 15 the redcoats raised the Union Jack and, for the rest of the Revolutionary War, New York served as the British Army Headquarters.  For seven long years the citizens endured poverty and mistreatment along with a devastating fire that left them all living in shacks made from old ships.  Over 10,000 American POWs died on prison ships floating in New York harbors.
            Finally, in mid-August, 1783, the British commander was given orders to evacuate.  England was giving up on the recalcitrant rebels.  The city had become a haven for loyalists so besides evacuating 20,000 British soldiers, the commander also had to make arrangements for those of his supporters who took advantage of England's offer of relocation.  Over 29,000 Tories were eventually evacuated to places like Nova Scotia, East Florida, and the Caribbean.
            The last British soldiers left on November 25, 1783.  Everything was timed so that as the last of them left, Washington and his troops would enter.  The time was set for noon.  A near disaster occurred when it was discovered that the British soldiers had left the Union Jack flying and greased the pole and removed the climbing cleats so that no one could take it down—several had tried and merely slid back to the ground.  A mad dash to a local hardware store ensued and just as Washington and his procession headed up the street, an army veteran named John Van Arsdale installed cleats one by one, climbing until he could reach the hated flag and tear it down.  Finally the American flag once again flew over New York City.
            New York Governor Henry Clinton arranged a dinner that evening in Washington's honor at Fraunces' Tavern in Lower Manhattan.  It is reported that 13 toasts were made in all, so we know the spirits were flowing.  For dessert Molly O'Neill reports that Washington was fed carrot cake, and that this is the first mention of that dessert anywhere (American Century Cookbook by Jean Anderson, p 435).  However, that tea cake, as it was called, was probably far healthier than the three layer carrot cake we know and love now.  Undoubtedly it was made with whole grain, rather than refined white flour, and since cream cheese had not yet been invented (1872), it was probably served quite plain.
            I still occasionally hear people talk about carrot cake being healthy.  The average slice of carrot layer cake with cream cheese frosting has about 580 calories, 30 grams of fat, 87 mg of cholesterol, and 415 mg of sodium.  Okay, it does have 105% of the required daily allowance of Vitamin A, thanks to those carrots, but only 1.5 grams of fiber to try and offset 73 grams of carbs. 
            We fall for these things all the time.  How about the Impossible Whopper?  Totally vegetarian, if not totally vegan.  (It is prepared on the same grill as regular Whoppers and thus absorbs some of that meat fat.)  But while a regular Whopper has 660 calories, an Impossible Whopper still has 630—not exactly diet fare.  A regular Whopper has 40 grams of fat, but the Impossible one has 34—not a huge savings.  But get this—a regular Whopper has 980 mg of sodium, the Impossible Whopper has 1080!  It has to—so it will taste decent.  (Double check—I found slightly different numbers on different websites, but they are all similar.)
            And we fall for these things spiritually as well, and the Devil is as happy as the Burger King adman is.  We think we can stay spiritually healthy with an hour or so in the Sunday morning worship.  We believe that as long as we "think about God" in our lives, it has the same benefit as personal Bible study and prayer.  We think that keeping our radios set on the Christian music station will help us stay holy, even if the lyrics spout unbiblical notions and unscriptural dogma—a spiritual carrot cake loaded with cream cheese frosting if ever there was one.  We think that because we pray at our meals, we are truly a spiritual family.  Meanwhile our children grow up starving for the meat of the Word and the company of strong Christians, people we had rather avoid because they make us feel uncomfortable with their obvious Christianity.
            Evacuation Day was a great event for those New Yorkers.  They still celebrated that day a century later, and they had every right to do so, even with a calorie and fat-laden modern carrot cake if they had had one back then.  But I doubt they would have eaten it every day thinking they were being "healthy." 
Too many of us eat spiritual carrot cake every day and think we are just fine.  Think again.
 
Your words were found, and I ate them, and your words became to me a joy and the delight of my heart, for I am called by your name, O LORD, God of hosts.  (Jer 15:16).
 
Dene Ward