Do you remember that movie quote?  If you are even five years younger than I, you might not.  I first heard it as a young teenager sometime in April 1968, when a friend and I went to see Stanley Kubrick's new movie "2001:  A Space Odyssey."          

If you are not familiar with the movie or the short story by Arthur C. Clarke, it is the tale of two astronauts and a sentient computer, HAL 9000, who controls life support and computer systems on their space craft.  This simple explanation does not begin to cover the many elements of the plot, but suffice it to say, Hal begins to malfunction, deliberately causing the deaths of one of the astronauts as well as three others who are in a kind of hibernation.  It becomes a fight for survival between the last astronaut, Dr. Dave Bowman, and Hal.

Some of Hal's most remembered lines from the movie are:

"Just what do you think you're doing, Dave?"

"I'm sorry, Dave.  I'm afraid I can't do that."

"This mission is too important for me to allow you to jeopardize it."

The voice of Hal was masterfully portrayed by Douglas Rain, an acclaimed Shakespearean actor.  He performed the part with a bland, flat, non-accent in a quiet voice that, by the end of the movie sent chills up your spine.  You could easily imagine that this machine could coldly but calmly execute you if it saw a logical need for it. 

Rain was born on March 13, 1928, and even though Shakespeare seemed his main interest, he is still best known as the voice of Hal, and even now I can still hear him voicing those lines.

But what I want us to think about today is this:  What lines will we be remembered for?

If you have listened to the same preacher for several years, you have probably picked up on a few mannerisms he may not even know he has.  When I was growing up, we had a preacher who ended sentences with the word "that."  Or he would start them with, "This is that…"  If things like this happen more than once or twice a sermon, it becomes distracting.  You find yourself counting the repetitive phrase instead of listening to the point, a very good reason to tape yourself and listen once in a while.  But not even That (pardon me) is what I am talking about.

How do you greet people?  Pleasantly, with a smile and a welcome in your voice, or something that, though you may not actually say it, still sounds like, "What do YOU want?"

How do you answer questions?  With irritation?  With snide sarcasm?  With boredom in your voice?

When you teach, do your students have a habit of writing down some of your statements because they want to remember them, or, given the choice, do they simply never show up again?

Do you say more helpful things or more hurtful things?

Do you talk about people with disrespectful name-calling?  Or do you remember that they are made in the image of God? 

In all of these things, "Just what do you think you're doing?"

It's been 51 years since I first heard Hal's eerie voice say that and I still remember some of the other things he said, too.  What words of yours will people remember?
 
For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.  With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God.  From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so.  Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and salt water?  Can a fig tree, my brothers, bear olives, or a grapevine produce figs? Neither can a salt pond yield fresh water. (Jas 3:7-12)
 
Dene Ward

Crepe myrtles are the super-plant of Florida summers.  Despite the heat, they bloom and seem to thrive, while everything else wilts and often dies.  The garden is over by the first of July, and the flower bed is far past its prime, but those crepe myrtles just keep on going, looking better than ever.  And it's all because of Andre Michaux.
 
             Michaux was not an aristocrat.  Born on March 8, 1746, he was the son of a French farmer who lived in the shadow of Versailles.  He was educated, as most Frenchmen were at the time, in the classics.  At 14, his father took him and his brother out of school to learn agriculture, a respected career at the time, and he soon showed a great affinity for making practically anything grow.

              When his wife of eleven months, Cecile Claye, died a few days after childbirth in 1770, he was devastated.  As we say these days, she was his soulmate, and he never married again.  In fact, the area surrounding him became unbearable with sad memories.  He soon came to the attention of Louis XVI's physician, who persuaded him to study botany.  Before long he became the Royal botanist and was sent on missions to find new trees and plants, specifically to revitalize stripped French forests, and leaving his new son with his grandparents, was happy to get away.  After that his life reads like an adventure novel, with treks to all parts of Asia, Africa, and the wilderness of North America, riding for miles on horseback, canoeing down uncharted rivers, and once being kidnapped by hostile tribes. 

              And here is where we find Andre and the crepe myrtle.  Originally from China it was first taken to England.  No one was impressed.  England was too cold a climate, even in the summer, for it to bloom.  So in 1786, Michaux brought it to the American South instead.  "Voila!" Michaux might have said in his native French.  This plant loved the heat, the humidity, and any type of soil you stuck it in.  He is also credited with introducing the mimosa and the camellia here in the South.

              So thanks to Andre Michaux, we had been looking for crepe myrtles for a while, the bush variety, not the trees.  Nathan and Brooke gave us some shoots that had come up around theirs and we gratefully planted them, and kept on looking for those bushes.  I am still not sure there is actually a difference in the plant, as one article I read said, or if it is all about how it is pruned, but after five or six years we still hadn’t found what we wanted, and that fall noticed the seed pods on our transplants.  We looked at each other and said, “Well, I’ve never heard of doing it before, but why not plant those seeds in some nursery pots?”

              We did, and guess what?  In spite of the fact that we had never heard of doing it before, they grew!  This past spring we transplanted 8 one foot high crepe myrtles from that nursery pot experiment, all of which are blooming just fine in the Florida summer.             

              Haven’t you heard it?  Someone comes up with an idea for spreading the gospel—one that is not beyond the bounds of God’s authority—but someone else pipes up, “I never heard of doing that before,” and expects that to be the end of the discussion.  In fact it often is, especially when prefaced by “Why, I’ve been a Christian for forty years...”  I wonder how many things would never have been done if everyone had that notion? 

              And the king made from the algum wood supports for the house of the LORD and for the king's house, lyres also and harps for the singers. There never was seen the like of them before in the land of Judah, 2 Chronicles 9:11

              The throne had six steps, and at the back of the throne was a calf's head, and on each side of the seat were armrests and two lions standing beside the armrests, while twelve lions stood there, one on each end of a step on the six steps. The like of it was never made in any kingdom, 1Kgs 10:20.

              And because of all your abominations I will do with you what I have never yet done, and the like of which I will never do again. Ezekiel 5:9.

              He has confirmed his words, which he spoke against us and against our rulers who ruled us, by bringing upon us a great calamity. For under the whole heaven there has not been done anything like what has been done against Jerusalem, Daniel 9:12.

              God didn’t seem to have any trouble accepting Solomon’s unique adornments for his throne and for the Temple.  He wasn’t above using punishments the like of which no one had ever seen before.  He certainly didn’t mind confounding the world by sacrificing His Son for our sins.  Aren’t you glad?

              We might be in bad company if “I’ve never heard of doing that before” becomes the source of authority for our actions. 

              As they were going away, behold, a demon-oppressed man who was mute was brought to him. And when the demon had been cast out, the mute man spoke. And the crowds marveled, saying, "Never was anything like this seen in Israel." But the Pharisees said, "He casts out demons by the prince of demons," Matthew 9:32-34.

              Jesus didn’t fit their preconceived notions so they accused Him of consorting with the Devil.  I’ve heard Christians come close when someone suggested something new to reach the lost, especially if it cost any money. 

              God tells us every word and action should be by His authority, not by whether we’ve heard of it or not.  I wouldn’t have any crepe myrtles if we had followed that dictum—and none of us would have a hope of salvation.
 
For from of old men have not heard, nor perceived by the ear, neither hath the eye seen a God besides thee, who works for him that waits for him, Isaiah 64:4.
 
Dene Ward

Keith was counting out pennies the other day and suddenly he called me to the table. 

"Have you seen these?" he asked, and lying there were four fairly new pennies with different images on them than we had grown up with.  One had a log cabin.  Another had a young rail splitter, taking a rest to read a book.  A third had Lincoln standing in front of the state capitol in Springfield, Illinois, and the fourth the US Capitol.

We wondered if they were real, so I looked it up and yes, indeed, they are real, minted in 2009 to celebrate the 200th birthday of Abraham Lincoln on February 12, 2009.  The four images show the various stages of his life, from childhood to the presidency.  Then I found another article about a new Lincoln penny minted the next year, a union shield with a draped scroll to celebrate Lincoln as the preserver of the Union.

But tell me this, when was the last time you even looked at a penny?  Most of us don't even pay with them anymore.  We hand the cashier a bill and take the change, and maybe that change gets thrown on the dresser or in a jar, and maybe every year or so you throw them in a change machine and replace them with bills again.  While I would not want anyone to do away with pennies—everything rounded up to the next nickel could get expensive, and don't for a minute believe that a merchant is going to round down—I really don't find much use for them.

A favorite tactic of the atheist is to talk about the little blue dot, which is what they call Earth, a mere "penny" in the vastness of outer space. 

"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
“The significance of our lives and our fragile planet is then determined only by our own wisdom and courage. We are the custodians of life's meaning. We long for a Parent to care for us, to forgive us our errors, to save us from our childish mistakes. But knowledge is preferable to ignorance. Better by far to embrace the hard truth than a reassuring fable."  Carl Sagan, A Pale Blue Dot:  A Vision of the Human Future in Space.

The atheist believes that since this earth is such a tiny spot in this immense universe that we don't count for anything.  How, he asks, can a Deity, if there is a one, even take notice of us when there is so much more out there?  Really, he says, we need to grow up and stop believing myths.

I am here to tell you, that you may be just a penny on a pale blue dot, but God does care about you.  He does know what is going on in your life, the sorrows, the pain, the misfortunes, and the joys as well.  If you can tear yourself away from their fables long enough to examine the evidence around us and in the Word, you will see the proof of our importance to him in his constant dealings with man through the centuries, and the sacrifices he made to save us.  Why would he have done that if he didn't care, if you didn't matter, if he had so much more on his mind than this pale blue dot? 

The fact is the atheist cannot conceive of a God so much larger than himself, so much more compassionate, so much mightier and awesome.  When all you rely on is your puny little human mind you are kind of stuck that way.  Evidences and apologetics may never convince the skeptic, but you are not one of them or you wouldn't even be bothering with this tiny little blog in a huge cyberspace. 

When you open your mind and your heart to a revealed Word, and a Savior who knows exactly what living on this pale blue dot is all about, you can accept the infinite possibilities a whole lot easier.  And you can be sure that God looks at even his seemingly worthless pennies, and does so constantly.  You matter to him.

Think about that the next time you pull out a pocketful of change.
 
For the eyes of the LORD run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him. (2Chr 16:9)

“For his eyes are on the ways of a man, and he sees all his steps. (Job 34:21)

Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear him, on those who hope in his steadfast love, (Ps 33:18)

The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous and his ears toward their cry. ​ When the righteous cry for help, the LORD hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. (Ps 34:15,17)

For a man's ways are before the eyes of the LORD, and he ponders all his paths. (Prov 5:21)

And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account. (Heb 4:13)

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are open to their prayer. (1Pet 3:12)

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. (1Pet 5:6-7)
 
Dene Ward

Since Keith has retired we sit on the carport nearly every morning with a final cup of coffee, talking and tossing treats to Chloe, watching the hummingbirds dogfight, listening to the squeaky whine of titmice fussing over the feeders, counting blooms on the Mexican petunias, and trying to decide if the clouds bode well or ill for the day.  Even in the summer, we enjoy our time, but in the summer one thing changes—the quiet of the country becomes the roar of the big shop fan.  That fan makes it comfortable enough, as it blows away the gnats and mosquitoes, and turns the early morning humidity into a cool breeze instead of a heavy and suffocating blanket.

             I was looking up the history of fans and discovered in a patent office publication some interesting ideas for fans:  a centrifugal fan, a horse fan, and a rocking chair fan among them.  Then I came across the patent filed on February 10, 1926, not for the original oscillating fan, but improvements upon it.  I suppose we have a tendency to think the idea was invented in full form, but such was not the case.  This patent applied for by Harve Stuart, would allow an oscillator on the fan to be connected or disconnected while the fan was in motion, and hold firmly stationary during operation without set screws.  Imagine what that fan was like before then.

              As a born and bred Florida girl, fans were a large part of my childhood.  We did not have air conditioning until I was a teenager, and central air did not come along until Keith and I had been married three years.  Not that it wasn’t invented, but it had not yet reached our income level.

              I remember summer afternoons at my grandmother’s house, sitting on the porch under the shade of oaks and chinaberries, listening to the soft whir and tick-tick-tick-tick as her old oscillating fan swept back and forth across us, evaporating the sheen of sweat and cooling us in the process.  That fan felt wonderful.  In an air conditioned world, I doubt many but my generation have known that feeling.

              This morning I came across Genesis 3:8 and saw a margin note I had never noticed before.

              And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day…

              Did you know that word “cool” can also be translated “wind” or “breath?”  God created everything, including the cooling effects of wind and, thus, an evening breeze to cool off His earth.  So even the perfect garden must have become a bit warm during the “heat of the day.”  Surely God had already created the ability to perspire, as well, since that is essential to the function of the body.  Man, as he worked in the garden (Gen 2:15), must have become warm and must have sweated.  Then God sent the evening breezes to cool him off.  It wasn’t until after he sinned that the work became difficult and the heat and the sweat became intolerable, just as it wasn’t until after then that conception, which I view as the whole of the female condition, became painful.

              You can find that word again in Prov 17:27:  He who spares his words has knowledge, and he that is of a cool spirit has understanding.  “Spirit” is “wind” is “cool.”  So now I have fans and breezes and dispositions in my mind, and it all came out this way: 

             If I have a hot nature, I need the cooling effects of the Spirit, and what better way than to read the word he “breathed” to cool me off?

              Many of us are foolish enough to put ourselves in situations where we know we will be tempted to anger, where we know we will be pushed and prodded and even shoved right in its path.  Why?!  We tell our children to avoid situations of temptation.  We tell them it’s downright stupid to go certain places and not expect trouble.  But we sometimes even contrive them, almost as if to flaunt our freedom to do so.  Then we shout out, “That shouldn’t have been so hard,” as we fall, flailing our arms for some sort of lifeline that isn’t there.  We decided we didn’t need it.

              This might be more motivating:  Not only can God cool us, but with the breath of his lips he shall slay the wicked, Isa 11:4.  One word seems to say it from every angle, just as the old oscillating fan hit from every angle.  Cool yourself off with the Word of God, and don’t go near the torrid zones.
 
​Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city, Prov 16:32.
​Good sense makes one slow to anger… Prov 19:11.
​Be not quick in your spirit to become angry, for anger lodges in the heart of fools, Eccl 7:9.
 
Dene Ward

Let me set you straight about a few things today—things I did not know either.  First, the musical Grease did not debut on Broadway as you might think.  No, the musical first saw light of day—or actually night—on February 5, 1971, in Chicago.  It opened in a converted trolley barn on Lincoln Avenue for what was supposed to be two weekends and wound up being eight months.  After a little gussying up, it finally debuted on Broadway on June 7, 1972, and became for the time, the longest running musical in history (replaced by A Chorus Line).  And not only that, neither version of the stage play included the song, "Hopelessly Devoted."

             It was popular in 1978 and I still remember it after nearly 40 years.  Sung by Olivia Newton-John, it was added to the film version, even though the producers were not crazy about it.  Eventually it won a Grammy and was nominated for a Best Song Oscar:  “Hopelessly Devoted to You.”

              I wonder what all those starry-eyed, romantically inclined teenagers would think if they knew what God meant when He wanted you to “devote” something to Him.

              Behold, I will send for all the tribes of the north, declares the LORD, and for Nebuchadnezzar the king of Babylon, my servant, and I will bring them against this land and its inhabitants, and against all these surrounding nations. I will devote them to destruction, and make them a horror, a hissing, and an everlasting desolation. Jer 25:9

              Jerusalem was to be “devoted” and that meant “destroyed.”  And no, it’s not a onetime use of the word.

              But you, keep yourselves from the things devoted to destruction, lest when you have devoted them you take any of the devoted things and make the camp of Israel a thing for destruction and bring trouble upon it.   Then they devoted all in the city to destruction, both men and women, young and old, oxen, sheep, and donkeys, with the edge of the sword.  And they burned the city with fire, and everything in it. Josh 6:18, 21, 24

              Jericho was “devoted” to God by fire.  It was totally destroyed.  When Achan “took of the devoted thing” he was stealing from God.

              So here’s the question for today.  How do I devote myself to God?

              We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. Rom 6:6

              I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Gal 2:20

              And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. Luke 9:23

              The cross you bear is not some illness or disability or trial you go through.  Most of those things just happen to us whether we choose them or not.  Jesus is talking about something you do voluntarily, and everyone knew that if you saw a man carrying a cross he was on his way to his death.  Jesus says you kill that old man, crucify him, daily.  Then and only then can you be “hopelessly devoted” to him.
 
Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator. Col 3:5-10
 
Dene Ward

You will find dates from 1793 to 1796 for its opening, but evidently this one is on record and cannot be denied.  The property for the City Hotel in New York City was bought on January 24, 1793.  It was the first building built to be a hotel in America.  At 73 rooms it was huge for the time, but then New York City already boasted a population of 30,000.  It was also the first building in the city with a slate roof.  Hotels have come a long way—some of them anyway.

                About fifteen years ago, a music teacher friend and I attended a state level vocal competition in a small Florida town.  She was the state treasurer, the one who handed out checks to judges and scholarship winners.  I was the accompanist for two of the entrants.  When we tried to make our reservations, the one hotel in town, an old Southern relic complete with ceiling fans and rockers on a wood-planked front porch, was booked solid and had been for months.  Our only choice was the motel up by the interstate.  We did not expect much, given the name on the sign and the price, so we weren’t surprised when we quickly stopped by to deposit our bags and saw the size of the room in the gloom.  We had no time to inspect the premises or even turn on a light or open the shades.  We just dumped our bags and drove on to the competition.
 
             When we returned about ten o’clock that night, we almost left our things and fled, but there was no place to run to.  The parking lot had been empty at 5 pm, but now it was full of souped-up, high rise, four wheel drive pickups, their fenders caked with streaks of mud and their windows with dust.  Evidently their owners also found their rooms cramped, because it seemed like all of them were standing outside, laughing uproariously at one another’s jokes and adding to their flannel-clad beer bellies by the six pack, several of which they tossed around. 

              We actually had to pull in between two of those trucks, and all talking ceased as we left our car.  I have never been so thrilled with my regular accompanist’s attire—a plain, black, mid-calf dress with a high neck and long sleeves.  My friend wore a dressy business suit, and we were both on the wrong side of forty, so they let us pass without a word.  When we got inside, we locked the door, put a chair under the knob, and pinned those still closed draperies overlapped and shut. 

              Then we saw our room in the light for the first time.  You could barely get between the outside edge of each bed and its neighboring wall.  The rod for our hanging clothes was loose on one end, and couldn’t support the weight of even my one dress, much less it and her suit.  The soap was half the size of the usual motel sliver, and the bath towels more like hand towels.  The pipes rattled, the tub sported a rust streak the color and width of a lock of Lucy’s hair, and the carpet had so many stains it looked like a planned pattern.

              After we managed to shower in the tepid, anemic stream of water, we pulled down the sheets and my friend moaned, “Oh no.”  With some trepidation I approached her bed in my nightgown and heels—neither of us wanted to go barefoot and they were all I had—and there lying on her pillow was a long black hair.  Her hair was short and very blond, she being a Minnesotan by birth with a strong streak of Norse in her veins.  “Please tell me the maid lost this hair when she was putting on clean—very clean—sheets.”

              “Okay,” I muttered.  “The maid lost that hair when she was putting on clean—ultra clean and highly bleached—sheets.”

              When we got to bed, it wasn’t to sleep.  Not with the noise going on in the parking lot just outside our door or in the neighboring rooms.  The walls seemed as thin as tent walls.  We rose in the morning bleary-eyed and ready to leave as quickly as possible.  This place offered no “free breakfast” and we would not have eaten it if it had.  We promised one another that if we ever had to come back and couldn’t get a room in town, we would stay anywhere else, even if it meant a fifty mile drive, one way. 

              It was a horrible experience, but some of us offer one just like it to the Lord.

              For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, Eph 3:14-17.

              According to Paul, it takes effort to allow Christ to dwell in our hearts, enough that he prayed for them to have the strength to allow it.  Are you allowing it?  And if you are, what sort of accommodations are you offering him? 

              Making a welcoming environment for him may not happen overnight, especially if we are dealing with deep-seated habits or even addictions of one sort or another.  He understands that, but we must constantly be adjusting our behavior to suit him, not ourselves, putting his desires ahead of our own, becoming, in fact, a completely different person altogether.  Wherefore if any man is in Christ, [he is] a new creature: the old things are passed away; behold, they are become new, 2 Cor 5:17.

              But this isn’t just a problem for new Christians.  I have seen older Christians act as if Christ is nowhere nearby, much less dwelling in their hearts.  Their language, their fits of pique, their dress, their choice of entertainment, and the complete lack of spiritual nourishment they partake of starved him and ran him off a long time ago, and they don’t even seem to realize it.  What?  Do you really think he will stay in a flophouse instead of the four star hotel you should have offered him?

              What it all boils down to is a failure to live like we have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me, Gal 2:20.  Did you see that?  Allowing him to dwell in you (Eph 3:17) and living a new crucified life both happen “by faith.”  Even if you have been claiming to be a Christian for decades, if you are not living up to it, you do not have the faith required.  It doesn’t matter how many times you were dipped into a baptistery if nothing about you changed, or if you have gone back to that old way of life.

              What sort of room are you offering the Lord?  He spent a lot for it, and he will walk out if you don’t live up to the name on your sign—Christian.
 
Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?—unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Cor 13:5.
 
Dene Ward

I grew up listening to my whole family, especially my uncles, root for the Florida Gators.  It's in the blood, I guess, so I have always rooted for them too, even during losing years, even when once again they handed a win over to their opponents.  But finally, on January 2, 1997, the Gators won their first National Football Championship.  The first is always special, but it also came at the expense of the perennial and hated foe, Florida State.  That made it even sweeter.

              It began as a nail-biter.  We led 24-17 at the half, but they had already beaten us once that year (helped by a slew of uncalled roughing the quarterback plays).  We weren't far into the second half before it was 24-20.  Then Danny, Ike, and Reidel took over the offense, and the defense stood firm.  That was the Seminoles' last score and we finished 52-20.  I enjoyed the second half much more than the first.  In fact, I have developed a bit of a reputation.

           “That was your kind of game!” Lucas texted a few weeks ago when the Gators tromped their opponent by nearly 30 points.  Indeed it was, my favorite kind of game.
 
             The boys have taught me well, not only strategies and terms, but who to root for in football, basketball, and baseball.  The Gators, the Rays, the USF Bulls, the Miami Dolphins, the Buccaneers, sometimes the Jags if they aren’t thoroughly embarrassing themselves, and any SEC team that is not playing Florida at the moment. 

              But if any of those teams are playing, I do not enjoy what most people call “a good game.”  Why would anyone enjoy something that causes heart-burn, heart palpitations, and heart-ache?  I cringe until the score becomes outrageously unbeatable, and then sit back and enjoy the rest.  That’s my kind of game.

              And though it certainly isn’t a game, that’s the way I like my contests with the Devil too.  It ought to be that lopsided a score.  We have a Savior who has already taken care of the hard part.  We are already so far ahead, even before we start, that a comeback by the opponent should be unthinkable.  We have an example how to overcome.  We have help overcoming.  We have a promise that we CAN overcome if we just try.  We have every possible advantage, including coaches and trainers and all-star teammates, and a playbook that is infallible. 

              We have the motivation too.  As we said, this isn’t a game.  There is no next season, and defeat is an unthinkable consequence that should spur us on to adrenalin-boosted, nearly superhuman feats.  And the trophy is far better than anything offered us in this life.  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.  Now they do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one, 1 Cor 9:25.  That crown is called a “crown of life” in several passages—an eternal life with our Creator. 

              Do not make your game a close one.  Don’t sit back and let the Adversary make a comeback.  Don’t fumble the ball, or commit an error, or make a turnover out of carelessness and apathy.  Victory is not handed to you on a platter.  You still have to want to win, and fight like that every minute.  My kind of game may not appeal to you when you watch your favorite teams play, but it should be the only kind you want when your soul is at stake. 

              We are “more than conquerors” with the help of God (Rom 8:37).  His game plan involves a rout, running up the score, and rubbing the enemy’s nose in defeat.  And it can go exactly that way with just a little effort on your part.
 
For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"...But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15:53-55, 57
 
Dene Ward

On December 9, 1973 Marshall Efron’s Illustrated Simplified Painless Sunday School began on CBS.  Seeing that little tidbit of information brought back words I hadn’t thought of in years.  “That’s just asking too much.”

             You’d think that I could remember who said that to us one evening while we sat studying the Bible in his home.  You’d think I could remember where he drew the line that kept him from serving the Lord.  It isn’t often you find someone that honest.  Most people offer excuses instead.  They understand that they are telling God they are not willing to sacrifice for him.  In fact, they will usually make a list of everything they have done before adding, “But that’s just asking too much.”  What they fail to see is that if they are willing to give it up, it isn’t a sacrifice.  The sacrifice comes when you don’t want to give it up; the sacrifice comes when it hurts. Serving God is not supposed to be “painless.” 

              Too many of us believe that just because we got up, dressed up, and drove to another location instead of sitting there watching some sort of “Painless Sunday School” on television that we are sacrificing for the Lord.  We will sit in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  We will even sit for the full two or three hours, whatever our group has chosen.  Just exactly what have we given up?  Sleep?  Another day of fishing?  A little more yard work?  Doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice.

              Many will alter their lifestyles a bit.  What have they given up?  Hangovers?  Gambling debts?  STDs?  If you aren’t stupid, that’s another easy sacrifice to make.  It only becomes difficult when the dependency has developed.

              What we steadfastly refuse to give up is ourselves. 

              Can we admit wrong?  Can we yield to others?  Can we toe the line, even when the thing in question affects us individually?  It’s much easier for the non-music lover to give up instrumental music in the worship.  Trust me.  I know.  It’s much easier to abide by the Lord’s words concerning marriage when you have a solid relationship, and when your children have also chosen well.  It’s much easier to serve when you actually like the people you are serving.  Yet ease is the very thing that makes it not much of a sacrifice.  The true sacrifice comes when, instead of twisting scriptures to suit ourselves and frantically searching for loopholes, we do what hurts.

              The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise, Psalm 51:17.  Pain is what makes a sacrifice sincere.  Humble repentance that involves giving up selfish desires and yielding to others who do not deserve it are the most difficult sacrifices to give, and therefore, the ones that God wants most to see in us.  Until we manage that, anything else we do in service to God is a sham, no matter how beautifully we sing, how generously we donate, or how knowledgeably we teach.

              When Jeroboam became king of the northern 10 tribes of Israel, in spite of God’s promise to him of a lasting dynasty if he only obeyed, he looked at those fickle people and said, “I know exactly how to keep them here.”  He made it easy to serve God.

              And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now will the kingdom return to the house of David: if this people go up to offer sacrifices in the house of Jehovah at Jerusalem, then will the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam king of Judah; and they will kill me, and return to Rehoboam king of Judah. Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold; and he said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem: behold your gods, O Israel, which brought you up out of the land of Egypt. 1 Kings 12:26-28.

              “It’s asking too much,” he told them.  “Let me make it easy for you.”  And just like that, the people in the north left the God who had delivered them from slavery, defeated their enemies, and provided all their needs. 

              What is it that Jeroboam would offer you?

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ, Philippians 3:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

The Environmental Protection Agency was established on December 2, 1970, at the call of President Richard Nixon to seriously address, at a Federal level, the problems arising from factory pollutants, automobile emissions, overuse of pesticides, dangerous practices in waste disposal, and oil spills.  Most of us have benefited from its oversight in areas of which we are not even aware.  But occasionally, they do seem to get a little unreasonable, in the same ways as anyone who tries to make rules in places they have never been and do not understand.

            Campgrounds, for example, have a lot of aggravating rules.  Some of them are just plain ridiculous, obviously made by people who sit behind a desk and have never camped in their lives.  Yet, I understand the problem.  Too many thoughtless people have no concept of picking up after themselves while being careful where they dump things. 

              Most state parks have a place to dump “gray water.”  We aren’t talking about raw sewage.  Gray water, as defined, includes the dishpan of water you washed your dishes in.  Ever carry a couple gallons of water 500 yards in an awkward dishpan you must hold out in front of you, trying not to slosh it all over yourself in the cold?  Nearly impossible.  And who, living in the country, doesn’t know that wash water works wonders on the blueberries and flower beds?  At least the last park we stayed at had dispensed with the gray water rule.

              I think some of these things bother me because, as country people, we are always green.  We are careful what gets dumped where, even if it means having to load it up and cart it off to the landfill ourselves; you don’t want your groundwater polluted, especially uphill from the well.  We rotate crops.  We even rotate garden spots. We use twigs to dissuade cutworms rather than plastic rings or metal nails. We mulch with the leaves from our live oaks, which we then turn under to enrich the ground after the garden is spent.  We dump the ashes from the woodstove into the fallow garden.  I am sure Keith could add even more to this list.

              God expects his people to be “green.”  Good stewardship of his gifts has always been his expectation, from our abilities to the gospel itself.  You can even find sewage disposal rules in the Law.  Cruelty to animals was punished under the Old Covenant.  That same principle of stewardship follows into the New.

              At the same time, God said, “Have dominion over [the earth] and subdue [the animals],” Gen 1:28.  He said to eat of the plants and the animals, 1:29; 9:3.  God meant this to be a place we used for our survival, not a zoological and botanical garden where nothing can be touched.  When we carefully use the resources of the earth, it will continue to furnish us with the things we need.  So we eat sustainable seafood.  We hunt in season, and eat the meat we bring home.  We raise and eat animals fed with garden refuse.  We carefully sow and reap so the ground will continue to be arable.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of that.

              Sometimes, though, the people who claim to be green are no longer flesh-colored (in all its assorted hues).  They care more for animals than people.  I know that is true when I see a “Save the Whales” bumper sticker on the same car touting “The Right to Choose.”  Let’s save the animals, but the babies are fair game.

              Shades of Romans 1--Paul speaks of the Gentiles who had rejected Jehovah throughout the ancient days and eventually arrived at the point that they “worshipped and served the creature rather than the Creator” 1:25.  Our culture has come dangerously close to that.  The environment has become the cause du jour, and while I certainly agree that we should care for the beautiful home God gave us and not be cruel to animals, it is because I am grateful to the God who made them for me, not because I have less regard for humans.  I have always been that way, not just recently, yet I still know that people are more important than sea turtles, and unborn children more so than polar bears.

              So let’s be green, just as God has always expected—but let’s be flesh-colored too, caring about the people, and their souls even more than the animals.  And let us also be as white as snow—an obedient people who worship and serve the God who created it all.
 
From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work. You cause the grass to grow for the livestock and plants for man to cultivate, that he may bring forth food from the earth.  The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees. The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the rock badgers. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they steal away and lie down in their dens. Man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening. O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. May the glory of the LORD endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in his works, Psa 104:13,14,16-18,21-24,31.
 
Dene Ward
 

In November, 1919, President Woodrow Wilson declared that November 11 should be designated "Armistice Day" to commemorate the end of World War I on the same date the year before..  In 1954, veterans' organizations lobbied their congressmen to change the name to Veterans Day to honor the veterans who served after that event, particularly World War II and the Korean War.  In 1968, the Federal Government passed legislation to observe all legal holidays on Mondays, so as to create three-day weekends and encourage travel and recreation to boost the economy.  Veterans Day completely lost its historical significance as it was moved annually to the second Monday of November.
In 1978 President Gerald Ford moved Veterans' Day back to its original date, deeming history and patriotism more important than dollars and cents.  So on November 11, 1978, Veterans Day was once again, and ever since, observed on the eleventh day of November to honor all who have served their country in the military, and at that time we had even more wars to add, most notably the Vietnam War.

              The way those particular veterans were greeted when they came home from that horror is a shame to our country.  They did not start that war; they were just pawns on a larger political chessboard.  The ones who spat on them and called them names were, by and large, a younger group who had never fought in a war, never experienced any sort of economic deprivation, but rather, had their lives handed to them on a silver platter. 

              I live in Florida, where a great many retirees, many of whom are veterans, finish their lives.  They are regularly the brunt of jokes and disrespect from a generation that may never know the trials that group went through, solely because those people went through those trials.  Funny how time can wreak such havoc with attitudes isn’t it?

              Unfortunately, I have seen the same thing happen in the Lord’s body.  A younger generation sneers at an older one because it is older, because it doesn’t understand that society is a bit different, and what was once expedient no longer is.  Yet that older generation is the one who saw the problems in the work force during the 40s, a war machine grinding out supplies at a pace unheard of before.  They were the ones who saw the need for a Sunday evening service so that those Christians who were working shifts would not be left out of the group activities, so they too could experience the encouragement that comes from praising and thanking God together. 

              You know what?  When they came up with that idea, it was new, it was different--it broke all the traditions.  Don’t sit there on your high horse and accuse them of not being able to change with the times.

              That is why those things are so hard for them to give up.  Yes, for some there may be an attitude problem, perhaps a willfulness or stubbornness that should be dealt with, but I would suggest that is not the case for most.  Just because someone has a difficult time seeing the need for an expedient change, does not mean he is a Pharisee, which seems to be the accusation du jour.  Too many times we act towards them with a disrespectful scorn and impatience, while at the same time being happy to stand on those same tired, hunched shoulders, shoulders that bore the burden of fighting the battles that have kept the church sound and faithful to the Lord.  Where would we be now without them? 

              All younger generations need to be careful.  Trying to withhold respect and honor and cloaking it as righteousness is simply another facet to the same Phariseeism you claim to abhor (Mark 7:8-13).  Our Lord would not like it now any more than he did two thousand years ago.

              So please, be a little more careful how you speak to and about the old warriors.  Be understanding of the feelings they must have, seeing their world change perhaps more than any other generation before.  Be grateful to them for what they have been through and the battles they have fought.  One of these days, another generation will come along and look at you and the things you don’t want to change.  What kind of example will you have left them?
 
You shall stand before the gray head and honor the face of the old man, and you shall fear your God.   I AM Jehovah, Lev 19:32. 
 
Dene Ward