On May 17, 1954 the Supreme Court ruled in the case of Brown vs. Board of Education that “the doctrine of separate but equal has no place in public education.”  Do you know who “Brown” was?  She was Linda Brown, a black third-grader who had to walk a mile to the all-black elementary school, right through a railroad switching yard, instead of a much shorter seven blocks to an all-white school where she was not allowed.

            Although that decision was a giant step in desegregating American schools, it did not change things immediately.  It was over 11 years later when I had my first black classmate, a seventh grader named Diana White.  She was well-spoken, well-dressed, friendly, smart, and pretty, and I liked her instantly.  At that point, nothing about the Supreme Court ruling had affected me personally at all.  I still walked across the street to school every morning.

            The next year we moved from that small town where grades seven through twelve were all housed in a small school labeled “high school” to the biggest city I had ever lived in, a melting pot of cultures and beliefs that made me feel like I had moved to another country altogether.  Schoolyard fights were common and the bathrooms billowed with cigarette and marijuana smoke. 

            I hated those first two years of what they called junior high, more than twice the number of students I had been with the year before in one-third the number of grades—8th and 9th.  I had discovered that the school year consisted of 120 days and that first year I kept a small notebook in my desk in which every afternoon I marked off a day, from day one to day 120, four vertical lines and a crossbar every week.

            That was also my first experience with busing, which was how that city handled the new laws, and it was not a kind experience.  Instead of riding safely with a parent to the school near my house, I was hauled off five miles in the opposite direction. 

            Most of the upholstery on that old bus was dried out and cracked from the Florida heat, some of the foam padding spilling out, or torn out by bored students, the walls and seatbacks scratched with rusting graffiti, the floors scuffed and covered with gum wads and other sticky things I really didn’t want to contemplate.  The windows stuck either up or down, depending upon who sat there last and how strong he was.  I suppose the engine was in reasonable shape.  It certainly spewed out enough fumes, which then wafted back around the bus and in through the windows.  But that acted as a sort of buffer for the odors of adolescent sweat and far too much Brut and Tabu.

            The first morning I stepped on that bus was like something out of a nightmare.  Even though the county had tacked up a list of rules for all to see, rules that included, “No more than two people per seat,” and, “No standing on the bus,” most of the seats were crammed with three people and the unlucky few who had no friends to save them a seat, stood in the middle.  (It was deemed better to break bus safety rules than to break the federal law that required the busing in the first place.)  I was near the end of the pickup route and I knew no one else on board, so I stood.

            What a ride that was.  I always carried several thick textbooks stacked on the slanted top of a loose-leaf notebook—no backpacks back then.  It was either hold onto the books or hold myself up as we swung around corners and bounced over railroad tracks.  Somehow I managed to grab the metal back of a seat with my right hand while using my left arm to hold my notebook and books tightly up against me so they wouldn’t slide into the floor on the nearly thirty minute ride across town, made so much longer by the frequent stops for railroad crossings and the multitude of traffic lights and school zones we passed through. 

            Before a week was out, though, I had made a friend, another quiet girl as much a fish out of water as I.  She got on the bus three stops before me, when there were still seats available, and she started saving one for me.  That one little thing made the days bearable—I had a place, I belonged.  It meant so much that on the mornings she was absent and I discovered it when I climbed aboard that reeking bus, I nearly cried.

            God understands our longing for a place.  He knows we want to belong, we want to matter to someone.  Into a world where the best you could hope for from capricious, petty, spiteful gods was to go unnoticed, the apostles came preaching about a God who actually cared.  Jesus came preaching about a God who knew you so intimately that he could number the hairs on your head, and who willingly provided you the necessities of life.  The disciples spread the word about a God who sacrificed himself to save, who helped bear burdens, and who offered rest and refreshing from a world sometimes too difficult to bear alone.

            God is saving you a seat on the bus.  Sometimes the bus hits a bump in the road, just as it did for Job.  Sometimes the driver takes a detour you never planned on, just as happened with Joseph.  Sometimes the route is long and the day hot and stifling as you sit among people who reek of the stench of this world, just as has happened to so many who have taken the ride before you.  But you are not alone.  The Lord got on that bus before you.  He will always be there saving you a seat, and after you count off that last day of “school,” he will give you a place where you can “belong” forever.
           
I am sending you to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me. Acts 26:18
 
Dene Ward

On our last camping trip to Blackwater River State Park we had reserved an especially good site, along with its neighbor for Lucas, three months in advance.  We arrived and after three hours were nearly set up when the ranger arrived to tell us that the next day a controlled burn was scheduled right on our edge of the campground and we would have to move.  It was not a happy event.  Not only would we have to tear down and start again less than an hour before sunset, but none of the other sites were as private. 

              Privacy is not that important when you sleep in a trailer or RV, but in tents with paper-thin walls it makes a difference.  Our new sites were smack dab in the middle of the campground and so small and close together that I could hear Lucas snoring in his tent next site over.  In fact one night, he and Keith were snoring in rhythm, and the night after Lucas started a snore on the inhale and Keith finished it on the exhale, perfectly synchronized.  Yet when the controlled burn passed the campground we were glad we had moved.  Even with the wind blowing in the opposite direction, the ash would have fallen on our equipment and melted holes in it.

              This is one of the things you must be ready to deal with in a State Park.  The point of a state park is conservation.  There will be more rules than a commercial campground, rules that when broken actually make you a lawbreaker.  But state parks have the nicest facilities for the money that you will find, along with well-maintained hiking trails, nature walks, and all sorts of other free amenities.  We do our best to follow those rules because those parks are part of God's Creation, and we want them to last. 

              Florida has one of the best, and most awarded, state park systems in the country.  The idea was proposed during the Twenty-Sixth Regular Session of the State of Florida House of Representatives on May 2, 1935, and we are thrilled that it was later passed.  In our thirty years of camping, we have certainly made good use of the resulting parks.

              And on that particular trip we learned a lot about controlled burns.  There are two reasons for controlled burns.  When the underbrush is allowed to spread unchecked, all that extra fuel makes wildfires more destructive.  Also, in a pine forest, the controlled burns keep the hardwoods from taking over.  The day after the burn every small hardwood was smoking and burned to a crisp while the pines stood tall and strong, if a little charred on the bottom.

              As Christians we must experience times exactly like these controlled burns.  Perhaps the most difficult “burns” to understand are the problems among God’s people.  If the church is the body of Christ, why do people behave badly?  Why do divisions happen and heresies lead people astray?  The Proverb writer tells us that God will use the wicked, whether they want to be used or not, Prov 16:4.  Paul says in 1 Cor 11:19, For there must be factions among you in order that those who are genuine among you may be recognized. 

              The question is not will there be problems in the church?  The question is, when there are problems will we be able to “recognize” those who are not genuine believers?  I fear that too many of us look to the wrong things. 

              Do I believe one side because they are my friends, never even questioning their words, while automatically dismissing the other if among them is a brother I don’t like too much?  Does “family” make the decision for me?  Am I relying on how I “feel” about it, instead of what the Word actually says?  Does it matter more to me who can quote the Big-Name Preachers instead of the scriptures?  Is one side more popular than the other?  Will it give me more power if that side wins the fight?  When I rely on those types of things, I am the one who is showing myself to be a less than genuine believer.

              While these things are necessary, it doesn’t mean God likes them, any more than he liked the Assyrians who fulfilled their purpose in punishing his wayward people. 

              Ho Assyrian, the rod of my anger, the staff in whose hand is my indignation! I will send him against a profane nation, and against the people of my wrath will I give him a charge, to take the spoil, and to take the prey, and to tread them down like the mire of the streets. Howbeit he means not so, neither does his heart think so; but it is in his heart to destroy, and to cut off nations not a few... Wherefore it shall come to pass, that, when the Lord has performed his whole work upon mount Zion and on Jerusalem, I will punish the fruit of the stout heart of the king of Assyria, and the glory of his high looks, Isa 10:5-6,12. 

              Jesus presents a similar viewpoint when he says in Matt 18:7, Woe unto the world because of occasions of stumbling! For it must needs be that the occasions come; but woe to that man through whom the occasion comes!  These things have their place and their purpose, but God will punish the ones responsible. 

              Now the hard part:  The apostles did not tell the early church that it was understandable to become discouraged and leave because their idea of the blissful, perfect institution was often marred by sin.  They said to use that experience to double check where we stand, to make sure we are among the true believers, the tall pines that withstand the blaze instead of the scrub brush and interloping hardwoods who try to destroy Christ’s body.

              Those controlled burns in the pine forests happen every three years.  Who knows how often the church needs cleansing but God himself? For me to give up on the Lord and his body because someone causes trouble, because peace among God’s people sometimes seems hard to come by, means I am giving up on God, failing to trust that he knows best. You may get a little singed, but it is cleansing burn, far better than the eternal burn that awaits the factious.
 
Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly are ravening wolves. By their fruits you shall know them. Do men gather grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles? Even so every good tree brings forth good fruit; but the corrupt tree brings forth evil fruit…Therefore by their fruits you shall know them, Matt 7:15-17, 20.
 
Dene Ward
             
 

The people who once bestowed commands, consulships, legions, and all else, now meddle no more and longs eagerly for just two things—bread and circuses.  Decimus Junius Juvenalis.

            That ancient Roman writer, known today as Juvenal, described how the Roman rulers kept the masses content, while gradually stealing away all their power.  What had once been a Republic had become an empire ruled by selfish, immoral, greedy men, more interested in retaining power and wealth than caring for the people under their rule.  And the people themselves deteriorated into a populace addicted to free distribution of food and violent gladiatorial contests.  They were so distracted by mindless self-gratification that they had become unable to think, unable to recognize any greater good beyond their own lusts.

            I can think of ways this might apply to America today, as I am sure you can, but it is nothing new.  Jesus dealt with the same mindset.  In John 6:26, he reproached the masses who followed him like this:  You seek me…because you ate of the loaves and were filled.  When he began to talk about the True Bread, they left. 

            The Pharisees came on more than one occasion, and to test him they asked him to show a sign from Heaven, Matt 16:1.  Herod on the night before he was crucified had long desired to see him, because he had heard about him, and was hoping to see some sign done by him, Luke 23:8.  They wanted a show, a “circus,” not a sign that would produce faith.  John tells us that for many of these people though he had done many signs before them, they still did not believe in him, 12:27.  Bread and circuses do not work in the spiritual world any more than they do in the physical.  It may bring more in, but how many stay when they find out what is really required of a disciple? 

            None of this is to say that we should not reach out to the world in as many ways as possible.  After all, Jesus did feed them, and he did do signs.  But sooner or later we must get past the superficial and reach the heart.  If my neighbor is in need, why not help him?  When I take a meal to the sick, perhaps he will be more willing to realize that his sick soul needs food too, and maybe he will come to me to feed it.  If I am part of an assembly that is open and friendly, that worships whole-heartedly and obviously instead of sitting like bumps on a log, perhaps he will sooner understand that the heart is not all that matters because he will more often visit and hear the word of God spoken clearly and forcefully.  But we must sooner or later do as Jesus did and force the choice upon them: 

            Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink.  Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever, John 6:54-58.

            And when they refuse to exist on nothing but Christ, then we must also do as he did—let them go and not bother chasing them down.  They have shown what they really wanted, and spirituality was not part of it.  God does not want people who are so distracted by mindless self-gratification that they become unable to think, unable to recognize any greater good beyond their own lusts.  He wants people who live on him and his word, even when it is uncomfortable and inconvenient, even if it costs more than they had ever imagined.  He wants a people for his own possession, who will give him the glory and honor he deserves.
 
After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the Twelve, will you also go away?  Simon Peter answered him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God." John 6:66-69
 
Dene Ward

On February 23, 1942 a Japanese submarine surfaced off the coast of Southern California and fired 13 shells into the Bankline Refinery of Goleta.  This alarmed Americans, who had believed that World War II would not be fought on their home ground.  Blackouts were required in coastal cities, along with headlight shields on trains running the littoral rails.

            It also had a secondary effect.  The Forestry Service suddenly realized that, with all the able-bodied men away at war, fighting a forest fire, as was almost caused by the refinery’s proximity to Los Padres National Forest, would be next to impossible.  A campaign to stop preventable fires ultimately resulted in Smokey the Bear, a fictional mascot for the Forest Service. The first poster featuring this beloved symbol, drawn with ranger hat, belted blue jeans, and a shovel, reminding us that “Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires,” appeared on August 9, 1944, and he has been with us ever since.

            I wonder if we don’t need such a symbol to remind us of the spiritual fires we cause.  And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell, James 3:6.  I ran out of room writing down the sins caused by the tongue:  it breathes lie, it sows discord, it spreads slander, it teaches false doctrine, it tempts men to sin, it kindles strife, it destroys reputations, it splits churches—need I go on?

            So how do we prevent those fires?  By refusing to listen, by rebuking those who try to set them, by putting them out with a liberal dose of Truth.  I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naïve, Rom 16:17,18.

            Do you understand exactly how evil some of these sins are?  From the time of the Law of Moses, gossip has been associated with bearing false witness, a capital offense, Lev 19:16.  The Proverb writer tells us that God hates he who sows discord among brethren, Prov 6:19, something nearly impossible to do with anything other than words.  As for liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death, Rev 21:8.

            Paul also makes it plain in passages like Romans 1:32 that God considers us as guilty as the ones who do those things when we “consent with those who practice them.”  It isn’t enough not to slander, not to lie, not to sow discord or spread false teaching.  We are not only not to listen but to actively rebuke as well--have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather even reprove them, Eph 5:11.  God expects us to prevent the fires that would ruin his people’s souls and the unity of his body.

            Maybe it’s time we borrowed Smokey the Bear and posted him around our meetinghouses and next to the telephones and computers in our homes.  Only we can prevent the fires set by a malicious tongue, whether it is ours or not.
 
 For lack of wood the fire goes out; and where there is no whisperer, contention ceases. As coals are to hot embers, and wood to fire, so is a contentious man to kindle strife, Prov 26:20,21.
 
Dene Ward

I wonder what Punxatawny Phil saw this morning.  According to folklore, when this 120 year old groundhog leaves his burrow on Gobbler’s Knob each February 2nd, his shadow, or lack thereof, predicts the length of winter.  If he sees his shadow, there will be six more weeks of cold.  This has never made much sense to me.  The only way to see your shadow is on a sunny day.  It would make far more sense if the day was cloudy and gray and he did not see his shadow.  A cold gray day should mean more winter, not less.  Besides, how can Phil predict my weather over 1000 miles away?  My own local weatherman changes his five day forecast every twelve hours, and still misses it half the time.

            The idea of shadows is used a lot in the scriptures.  I was raised on the concept of “foreshadowing”—items under the Old Covenant used as types of things in the New, Heb 8:5; 10:1; 1 Cor 5:7,8, etc.  I think I had the notion that esoteric concept was the primary use of the word “shadow” in the Bible.

            Then I discovered Psalm 102:11, 144:4, and Eccl 8:13.  Our lives are depicted as shadows that decline and pass away.  Have you ever stood outside when a breeze was blowing those puffy cotton ball clouds across the sky?  One minute you are in the sun and the next in the shade—one minute you have a shadow and the next you don’t.  Life is just as ethereal in several ways.  One moment you are basking in the warmth of happiness and good times; the next your life is dark and gray with trials.  One minute you are here, and the next you are gone.  Remember not to lay up treasures for this world, but for the lasting one to come.

            The word is also used in terms of protection, hiding in the “shadow” of God.  David conveys thoughts like these in Psalm 17:8; 36:7; and 57:1.  Jeremiah uses the figure in Lam 4:20.  In a hot land with several desert areas, the protection of shade is important and that figure spoke volumes to these people.  Down here in Florida we have a healthy respect for shade which can make a ten to fifteen degree difference in the temperature.  We will walk the entire length of two parking lots in order to park a car in the miniscule shade of a thin-limbed sapling.  I wonder why so few are interested in the huge cooling shadow of a loving God.

            But then maybe I do understand.  When you step into the shadow of someone who is bigger than you, your own shadow disappears.  Our lives “are hid with Christ,” Col 3:3.  Maybe we just cannot stand the notion of giving up self.  We want to retain just a touch of independence.  “That’s just who I am,” becomes an excuse for our failure to overcome sin and become new creatures.  We fail to realize that we have merely swapped dwelling in the protective shadow of God for dwelling in the outer darkness of the Devil.

            Think today about shadows—about the interesting study of Old Testament items foreshadowing those in the New; about the fleeting nature of life, like a shadow dissolving when a cloud sails across the sun; about the great protection found in God’s shadow.  Think too about hiding yourself in the larger shadow of a Big Brother whose life we must emulate if we ever hope for that Father’s protection, and a life that is no longer as ephemeral as a shadow.
 
He that dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the LORD, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust, Psalm 91:1,2.  
 
Dene Ward

On January 15, 1535, King Henry VIII of England, declared himself King of the Church and the Anglican Church suddenly came into existence.  We could talk all day about “the church” he left and “the church” he formed, whether either of them were scripturally correct or even had the right to exist.  Today I just want you to think about this:  do you make yourself “king of the church?”  Do I?

            Although it was not as simple as this when you read all the various histories, the final straw for Henry was the pope’s refusal to allow him to divorce one of his many wives and marry another.  Henry wanted an heir and every woman he chose seemed unable to produce the desired son.  At first the pope was leaning Henry’s way, then politics reared its ugly head and in the course of all the complications, he denied Henry’s request.  So Henry simply left that church and made his own.

            I wonder how many of the various other denominations came about for the same sort of reason.  I wonder how many people try to camouflage their reason for dividing the Lord’s body by claiming that things are not done scripturally, when the real reason is, “They don’t do things the way I want them done.”  If you look at the makeup of the New Testament church, if you study carefully the things being said in the epistles, there was a vast plurality among those people.  Some came from Judaism and still practiced circumcision and Passover celebrations.  Paul did not tell them they had to change; he just told them not to bind their rituals on others.  The Gentile Christians came from a background of idolatry that kept them following dietary restrictions because they could not separate their old pagan beliefs from normal everyday activities, like eating meat.  Paul did not tell them to go ahead and eat that meat—he just told them not to look down their noses at people who did.  Even among the apostles we find a Zealot and a publican. 

            So believing things a little differently is acceptable as long as no one is actively sinning, or trying to force their own slants down other people’s throats.  Henry’s problem was that he didn’t like the rules so he made a completely new standard.  Now, he could do as he pleased.

            Jeroboam tried the same thing in the Old Testament.  He was not satisfied with the kingdom God gave him.  Instead of trusting God to fulfill his promise to build thee a sure house, as I built for David, and [to] give Israel unto thee, 1 Kgs 11:38, he was afraid he might lose it all when the people worshipped God as the Law commanded, especially when they went south to offer their sacrifices on feast days.  So he changed the feast days, he changed the place of worship, and he changed the priesthood.  They were still worshipping Jehovah, just not the way Jehovah had dictated they should.  At least that was how he rationalized it—we are still worshipping the One True God.  And God let him know exactly how he felt about that through Ahijah the prophet: he will give Israel up because of the sins of Jeroboam, which he hath sinned, and wherewith he hath made Israel to sin, 1 Kgs 14:16.  Worshipping your own way instead of God’s way is sin.

            Worship, in the true meaning of the word, has nothing to do with how we want to do it and everything to do with how the Worshipped One wants it to be done.  That is why it matters what we do when we assemble, and that is why it also matters what we do the other six days of the week--our very lives are sacrifices (worship) to God, Rom 12:1-3. 

            I do not have a kingdom, and neither do you. We do not get to decide what the church does, or what will be acceptable if another does it. Who are you to judge the servant of another? Rom 14:4.  We do not even get to decide what we do.  Jesus Christ is King of the Church.  Let’s all be careful to do as he says, and not as we want.
 
And what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us who believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the one to come. 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 1:19-23.
 
Dene Ward

The first recorded gladiator fight occurred in 264 BC when three pairs of slaves were chosen to fight at the funeral of a prominent Roman citizen.  What a strange way to mourn, I thought, only to discover later that Julius Caesar arranged for 320 gladiator fights at the death of his daughter Julia. 

            Gladiator fights became common entertainment.  50,000-80,000 spectators usually attended.  Admission was free.  The actual money was made in gambling on the fighters.  Slaves and prisoners of war were trained as gladiators, and the Roman courts could sentence criminals to “death fighting.”  Eventually free men enrolled as gladiators, some for the glory and some for the money to pay their debts.  Even some of the emperors were said to have been former gladiators, so that position could lead to political advancement as well. 

            The life of a gladiator was full of risk.  Not only could they be killed by another gladiator, but all prospective gladiators had to swear an oath and enter a legal agreement to submit to beating, burning, and death by sword if they did not perform as required.  Life must have been desperate for those who entered it willingly.

            The last gladiator fought on January 1, 404 AD, over a millennium and a half ago.  What startled me, though, was one of the reasons given for the rise of this type of entertainment.  Gladiator fights were seen as a way to appease the gods and avert disaster in the Roman Empire.
 
            To appease the gods?  Here you have yet again a big difference
between Jehovah God and manmade gods.  Our God hates fighting among his children.  Here are six things that the LORD hates, seven that are an abomination to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers, Prov 6:16-19.

            Seven times in the New Testament He is called the “God of peace,” and Jesus said in his most famous sermon, Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the children of God, Matt 5:9.  How did he tell us the world would recognize us?  [I pray] that they may be one…so that the world will believe that you have sent me, John 17:21.  Getting along with one another can actually create faith in unbelievers.

            Over and over in the New Testament the disciples are told to “be at peace,” to “avoid things that gender strife,” and to be longsuffering with one another.  Peace would be the defining mark of this brotherhood, not the constant wrangling that often mars manmade organizations. 

            The only fighting we participate in is a spiritual warfare against the Adversary.  Otherwise we are to be a peaceful people who call attention to ourselves only by the good we do to others, not the evil, and by our goodwill to one another despite our differences.  All the way back to the apostles, Jesus expected people with huge ideological differences of opinion to get along.  Matthew the publican and Simon the Zealot would never have eaten a Passover meal together until they both professed allegiance in something and Someone far bigger than their opinions.

          James makes it very clear in his epistle exactly where fighting comes from.  When we turn ourselves into gladiators against one another, when others of us watch from the sidelines, egging each one on and enjoying the battle, it is clear that our loyalty is to a master other than the Prince of Peace.
 
Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good conduct let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast and be false to the truth. This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, and demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there will be disorder and every vile practice. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace, James 3:13-18.
 
Dene Ward
 

George C Parker was one of the most successful con men in American history.  He made his living by “selling” national landmarks in New York City to naïve tourists.  His favorite piece of “merchandise” was the Brooklyn Bridge, which he sold twice a week for years.  He took whatever he could get for it, depending upon the bankroll in the tourist’s pocket and the balance in his bank account, from as little as $75 to as much as $50,000.  More than once police had to tear down the toll booths built by the new “owners.”

            Parker was arrested several times, but finally on December 17, 1928, he was incarcerated at Sing Sing for the final time.  He spent his last eight years there, one of the most popular inmates among both convicts and prison officials.  His legacy in popular culture is the phrase, “And if you believe that, I have a bridge I want to sell you.”  Other people’s gullibility made his living for him for a long time.

            Jesus warned his followers about being gullible.  Generosity may be a virtue.  Expressing confidence in the good intentions of others rather than assuming the worst may be a sign of the love described in 1 Corinthians 13.  Sometimes we will be “taken” when we offer compassion and that is as it should be.  “Turn the other cheek” may very well mean you get another slap.  But in other cases, Jesus reminds us to “be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”  He tells us that he wishes his followers were as wise as the children of the world.  Does he give us any guidelines here?

            I am not the one to ask.  Many times I have been taken in, maybe too many times, so my record is not a good one.  But I can show you a couple of scriptures that might help.

            ​“Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not cast your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you.” Matt 7:6.  Jesus meant for us to be discriminating in offering the gospel.  That does NOT mean you decide for yourself who will and will not listen.  What it means is to judge the reception and act accordingly.  Why waste time on those who scoff and scorn when there may well be others out there who are pining away at the chance to hear the good news? 

            He said the same to his apostles when he sent them out on what we call the Limited Commission.  And if anyone will not receive you or listen to your words, shake off the dust from your feet when you leave that house or town, Matt 10:14. Notice:  first they were given the opportunity, and when they refused the message they were left “in the dust.”

            Jesus did the same in his own work.  Look at John 6.  Early in that chapter Jesus feeds the 5000 with five loaves and two fish.  The next day they come seeking him again.  At least a few of them see Jesus as a meal ticket and he confronts them.  “You seek me not because you saw signs but because you ate your fill of the loaves,” (6:26).  Still later, as his discourse becomes plainer and he requires more commitment from them than they are willing to give, many leave.  Did Jesus chase after them?  No.  He looked at his disciples and asked them, “Are you going to leave too?” (6:66,67).

            Is this easy?  Knowing when the time has come to cut things off is never easy.  It may be that it takes some people years of teaching before they get it, and you find yourself saying, “What if I hadn’t kept on trying?”  But then what if you waste your time on someone who has made it plain he is not interested and you never get to the one who is? 

            Maybe Jesus is saying, “Just pay attention.  Don’t ignore the one who is ripe for the picking while you waste time on the other who has already dried on the vine.”

            Sometimes you have to make difficult choices.  Jesus is telling you it’s okay.  He is telling you that he expects you to be wise and do your best.  Sow the seed, give out of your pocket, but do not be taken in like a babe in the woods when the signs are obvious.  When people show up asking for money, telling you they are Christians from another city, ask them who they worship with.  See if they know the names they ought to.  It isn’t a lack of compassion to check out their story. 

            And then if you need to say no, say it.  If you need to shake the dust off your feet, do it.  Just don’t buy the Brooklyn Bridge if you can help it.
 
Conduct yourselves with wisdom toward outsiders, making the most of the opportunities. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you should answer everyone. Col 4:5-6
 
Dene Ward

The Erie Canal opened for business on October 26, 1825.  The history of the canal makes interesting reading.  Somewhere I came across the nickname, “the canal that salt built.”  Syracuse, one of its principal ports, shipped most of the salt used in the United States.  The Erie Canal dramatically lowered the shipping costs of that and other commodities, and made those otherwise inland cities more prosperous.  

            Keith and I have differing opinions about salt.  He adds it to everything, copiously.  I add it to some things all the time and others seldom, and usually just a mere sprinkle.  Since his stroke a few years ago, he has become a little more moderate, cutting his amounts by using serious quantities of black pepper instead.                                                                       

            In the summer he must worry less about it.  We live in Florida, which means on a summer afternoon he will come in from the garden soaking wet, with his pant hems literally dripping sweat, and even pouring it out of shoes.  He stays hydrated with a gallon of water sitting in the shade of a nearby oak, usually a gallon before lunch and another afterward.  On those days, he doesn’t worry about how much salt he puts on his platter of sliced garden tomatoes in the evening.

            Just out of curiosity I looked up the dietary salt requirement.  Considering how much you hear about the evils of salt, I was surprised.  Did you know that too little in your diet can affect your moods and even cause depression?  It is also the reason for some falls in the elderly.  They wind up with hyponatremia, which causes dizziness and balance issues.  Low salt diets can lead to Type 2 diabetes by impairing insulin sensitivity.  None of this gives us the green light to consume too much salt, but maybe we should check where we stand with our doctors on these issues before cutting out too much of it.

            In all that study I also found a list of special uses for salt.  We all know that salt is a food preservative.  I also use it as a gargle for sore throats.  I hate doing it, but it works.  These other things I have not tried, so take them with, ahem, a grain of salt.

            Sprinkle salt on the shelves in your pantry to keep away the ants.
            Soak freshly caught fish in salt water to make scaling them easier.
            A pinch of salt in egg whites will make them beat up fluffier.
            A dash of salt in gelatin will cause it to set faster.
            Clean greens in salt water for easier dirt removal.

            Pour salt on an ink-stained carpet and leave overnight.  It will soak up the stain.

            Pour salt on sidewalk cracks to kill weeds and grass.
Then I looked up salt in the scriptures and got another education.

            Ezek 16:4 mentions rubbing a newborn with salt.  For some that symbolized cleansing.  For the Eastern cultures at large, it was thought to make the infant’s skin firm.

            Ex 30:35 and Lev 2:13 tell us that God required salt on his sacrifices.  Salt was considered the opposite of leavening (so much for the notion that no salt should be used in unleavened bread), and it signified both the purity and faithfulness required to worship Jehovah, and Jehovah’s enduring love for his people.

            And that led to the “covenants of salt” mentioned in places like Num 18:19 and 2 Chron 13:5.  God’s covenant with his people was considered perpetual.

            So now you see why I started looking at Col 4:6 a little differently.  Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer each person.  Usually I hear, “Salt makes things sweeter, so be sweet and kind when you talk with someone.”  That is truly a one-dimensional explanation.  Yes, salt can make a tasteless melon taste sweeter.  Even the ancients knew that (Job 6:6).  One of the classic combinations in Italian cooking is prosciutto, a salty ham, thinly sliced and wrapped around melon wedges.  Yet if there is no sugar in the food, the salt can hardly make it taste sweeter.  The correct statement is that salt brings out whatever flavors are present in the first place.

            And what about the other aspects of salt associated with that culture, purification, preservation, faithfulness, and perpetuality? That verse in Colossians indicates that my answer may change according to circumstance, “that you may know how to answer each person.”  Can the words I choose help purify a sinner?  Can they show my faithfulness to God when I am questioned by an unbeliever?  Can they tell others that I know my God will always be there for me and that is why I will always be there for him, regardless how they treat me?  Absolutely, and some of those words might not be particularly sweet. 

            Salt, on occasion, stings.  So does God’s grace when it offers me things I do not want to hear in my present circumstances, so my “graciousness” to others may well have them smarting when it comes “out of season”—a time they do not want to hear it.  In fact, since salt can only enhance what is already there, perhaps it is the hearer who determines how sweet my words are in the first place.

            God’s Word is simple enough for anyone to understand it on the surface, but remember that if you apply yourself, you can dig deeper into more layers than in any book written by a man.  Salt, for instance, can flavor your studies for a good while. 
           
You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trampled under people's feet, Matt 5:13.
 
Dene Ward

At 9 pm, Sunday night, October 8, 1871, a small fire started in the city of Chicago.  By Tuesday night, 73 miles of road, 120 miles of sidewalk, 2000 lampposts, 17,500 buildings, and nearly 4 sq mi of the city had been destroyed.  Property damages amounted to $222 million, and 90,000 of the city’s 300,000 residents were homeless.  A casualty count was never accurately determined but was estimated at 200 to 300. 
            Catherine O’Leary owned a small dairy at the fire’s origin.  It has become the stuff of legend and song that Mrs. O’Leary’s cow started the Great Chicago Fire when it kicked over a kerosene lamp during the evening milking.  The woman was even vilified in the Chicago Tribune.
            All these years later I was able to find articles that, with both facts and logic, exonerated Mrs. O’Leary.  The Chicago firemen were weary from fighting a Saturday night blaze.  Many had been without food and sleep for close to 24 hours.  The equipment was in poor condition because of that earlier fire, especially the hoses.  The wrong alarm box was sounded in the firehouse due to an inaccurate sighting, which delayed the arrival of the firefighters, and the man responsible for re-sounding the correct one when notified didn’t, “because they’ll find the right place when they get there.  It’s on the way.”  Evidently not.
            As for Mrs. O’Leary, she claimed that she and her husband had gone to bed and were unaware that a fire had started until it was too late.  Dairy owners rise well before daylight to take care of the morning milking, so that makes sense.  Evening milkings are done much earlier than 9 pm.  In fact, had she been in the barn it would have been a simple matter to have put out the small fire before it got out of hand, if indeed it was the accused cow that started it.  No one in the barn means no kerosene lamp.
            So what about arson?  Was the dairy failing?  Were their huge debts that a nice-sized insurance check would have covered?  That is a moot point because neither the barn, nor the cows, nor the supplies were insured.  Arson would have done them no good at all.  I am inclined to believe that Mrs. O’Leary was completely innocent.
            We, though, are not as innocent when we start fires.  Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasts great things. Behold how great a matter a little fire kindles!  James 3:5.  A small barn was the starting point for 4 sq miles of devastation.  Something as small as the tongue can start something just as devastating, that travels just as far and just as fast.  We once received a phone call from a friend 150 miles away asking if what he had heard about us was true.  We are grateful that he called and asked, because it was not true at all.  Thanks to a friend who cared enough to check, we were able to put out a fire that could have caused us much trouble and sorrow, perhaps ruining our reputations for life.
            Sometimes the statements we make are perfectly innocent, but we are not careful how they come out or who hears them.  Kerosene lamps, especially in the nineteenth century, were beneficial tools after all.  Yet all it would take was one moment of carelessness for an accident to bring about a catastrophe.  And so all it takes from us is one careless word, even one well-meant, to “set on fire the entire course of life,” James 3:6. 
            And then there are the arsonists who set those fires on purpose.  They like to see the fire, the confusion, the havoc they can wreak in the lives of others.  It fills them with a power they otherwise can’t feel, and that is why it is so satisfying to them.  Gossip can do exactly the same thing.  Repeating rumors, perhaps even embroidering them to the point that by the fourth or fifth telling there is little if any truth left in them, can be empowering.  Nothing ever happens to me, I am important to no one, but look at all the trouble I can cause anyway.  Arsonists often kill people when they engage in their crime.  Gossips are no better than those murderers when they commit “character assassination.”  
            Be careful out there today.  If one kerosene lamp can start a fire that nearly destroys a large city, one word can ruin a life.  Don’t be the one who knocks over the lamp or the one who adds to the flame by listening.
 
For lack of wood the fire goes out, and where there is no whisperer, quarreling ceases.  As charcoal to hot embers and wood to fire, so is a quarrelsome man for kindling strife, Prov 26:20.21.

 

Dene Ward