When I was a child I learned quickly that meeting with the saints was more important than anything else I might like to do at the given time.  My earliest memories of our faith are sitting in my mother’s lap while my Daddy led the singing, and then sitting on the front pew with him when my little sister came along and usurped my throne.  On Sunday and Wednesday we went to services.  Every night of every gospel meeting we went to services.  Every time the people of God met together, we met with them, and neither convenience, nor school functions, nor social gatherings of any kind got in the way.  As soon as we found out there was a conflict, there wasn’t one, because my parents taught us that nothing and no one was more important than God. 
            Nowadays it has become fashionable to not only dismiss the assemblies as unimportant, but to talk about anyone who thinks they are as “Sunday morning Christians” at best, and Pharisaical hypocrites at worst.  That was not true in my family.  In my house at least, the assemblies were object lessons:  if you won’t do this easy thing for the Lord, will you ever do anything more difficult? 
            My parents lived their lives the rest of the week as godly servants of others, visiting the sick, cooking and carrying food to those who needed it, showing hospitality, sending financial support to preachers in need, buying supplies for poor churches they had heard about, and keeping themselves pure from the worldliness that surrounded them, even when it made them unpopular with their extended family, neighbors, and co-workers.  And they also taught their children to follow in their steps, children who have now taught 9 grandchildren and 8 great-grandchildren, beginning early on, that gathering with God’s people is important.  All the accountable ones are faithful Christians seven days a week.
            Do you think God’s people have ever thought that the assembly rituals were the only thing there was to their religion?  The Law of Moses was intricately bound up in the everyday lives of God’s people.  It wasn’t just “Remember the Sabbath to keep it holy,” and nothing else.  Sacrifices were required for various times in their lives, the birth of children, death in the family and other times of uncleanness, sin offerings, and thanksgiving other than the mandated feast days.  Harvest time meant remembering to leave the corners and the missed crop behind for the poor.  It meant time for tithing the increase.  The Law pervaded their lives and these things were done any and every day of the week. 
            Even in Jesus’ time the people led lives of worship.  The Pharisees fasted twice a week, not on the Sabbath but on Monday and Thursday, ordinary weekdays.  Jewish families lined the doors and walls of their houses with scriptures—the original post-it notes.  Their lives revolved around the feast days, which demanded making extensive travel plans and saving money for the trip all year long.  They had rabbis in their homes to ask them questions and hear them teach.  That’s how Jesus often wound up among them. 
            All these people worshipped throughout the week, but it wasn’t the instant cure for hypocrisy some seem to think, was it?  Many of those labeled hypocrites by the Lord looked down on others for not being as enlightened as they were.  Sort of like folks today who think they are better than anyone who dares utter the phrase “Sunday worship service.”
            Perhaps these people should get off their high horse and follow the Lord’s example.  Even if they don’t think the assemblies are important, Jesus did.  Where was the first place we find him seeing to “His Father’s business?”  He met with God’s people in the synagogues all the time, and synagogue worship was only a tradition, not something included in the Law.  He attended the feast days, including the one which was simply a civil holiday.  He taught the apostles to do the same.  Paul went to the synagogues expecting to find there the best prospects for the gospel—imagine that!  Too bad some of our more informed brethren couldn’t be there to teach him better.
            Of course Sunday morning isn’t all there is to it.  God never meant it to be, but don’t become an unrighteous judge of people who believe it is important.  That’s how a lot of us learned about serving God, not only by being there for the Bible study, but by putting it first over every other worldly thing in our lives, even if they weren’t sinful things.  Babes must crawl before they can run. 
             Hebrews commands us to consider one another to provoke one another to love and good works.  That’s what we do when we meet together.  It isn’t love to look on your brethren with contempt, and that’s what I am seeing in these prideful attitudes of instant dismissal when anyone speaks of our gatherings as “worship.” 
            Seems to me, someone needs to be provoked a little more.
           
Acts 1:13,14; 2:1; 2:42; 2:46; 6:1-3; 14:27; 20:7; 1 Cor 5:4; 11:17-28; all of chapter 14; Heb 10:23-25—the reasons we gather.  I will let you choose the one you think is most important.  Better yet—read them all.
 
Dene Ward

The first patent for a washing machine in this country was issued on March 28, 1797, to a man named Nathaniel Briggs.  I had no idea anyone had even come up with the notion that early.  Unfortunately, his washing machine business never really got going and the patent office burned in 1863 so we don't even have a picture of it any longer.  Poor Nathaniel gets little, if any, notice for his invention.  Alva J. Fisher gets the credit for the first electric washing machine sometime in the early 20th century, but the date is not exact and there is much argument.
            When we moved, we inherited a new-ish washer, maybe a year or two old.  After using it for a month, I can say with ample evidence that it is a travesty of a washer.  It simply does not clean your clothes.  If you want your clothes to be clean, you just about have to prewash them—so what good is the washer?  In fact, why even call it a "washer" in the first place?
          We have friends in the appliance business, third generation, independent appliance retailers and repairers who know their stuff.  They warned me about these new washers a few years ago, and now I know they were absolutely correct.  And, unfortunately, two people have told me that I got the worst brand—which, ironically, used to be considered the best!  But they changed how the thing works.  It doesn't use enough water to even cover the clothes and there is no agitator—the thing that is supposed to take the place of the old washboard.  When you listen to this one, it seems to huff and puff, take a giant breath as if to pick up the load of clothes by wind power alone, then drop it, maybe a dozen times.  That is supposed to clean the clothes.  Why it takes a full hour to do nothing more than that, I can't figure out.  It certainly isn't because it is actually laundering the clothes.  In fact, I just read an article that is supposed to be objective, saying that the reason for buying a washer with an agitator is to get the clothes clean!
            And all this has come about because men have decided to change their priorities when it comes to washing clothes.  They want to use less water.  They want bigger loads.  They want to be able to wash delicate items without as much wear and tear.  Notice:  nowhere in there does it say that they want to get their clothes clean.  Washers without agitators are known, even by industry experts, not to clean clothes.
            When you change your purpose, when your priorities shift, something that is very important will also change, and maybe even disappear.  This happens in every area of life. It can certainly happen in your religious life.  What is the purpose of the church?  To encourage one another, admonish one another, support one another, correct one another, and all in an effort to make sure as many of us as possible make it to Heaven.  It is to be that foreordained institution that shows the manifold wisdom of God (Eph 3:10).
           The church is not a social club.  Yes, we should all be gathering together at other times than the assembly in order to help one another and get to know one another better in that effort.  We should be a family in every sense of the word.  But having fun is not the purpose of the church.
            It is not about physical blessings.  It will not make us healthy or wealthy, except in spiritual terms—and that should be plenty enough for people who claim to follow a Lord who suffered, lived close to the poverty line, and served others day after day after day. 
            It's not about earning the respect of the world and being accepted on their terms.  It's about following the Lord, doing his will, saying what he said, not what people think is the only appropriate and tactful thing to say.  He never once adapted to the religious world's ways of thinking in order to avoid offense.  It was very much, "My way or the highway" with him.
          You cannot read the New Testament without realizing that the early church was nothing like some of the denominations out there.  Things have been changed in the name of—progress?  But do any of these changes save men's souls?  Not if those men do not follow the Lord's teaching.  If you love me, you will keep my commandments, John 14:15.
            When we decide it's all about providing entertainment, living a "blessed" life here on this earth as society counts blessings, and making sure everyone likes us, we have completely changed God's plan for this body of people, the bride of his Son.  In a very real way, we have become an agitator-less washer that will never make anyone clean.
 
…Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it; That he might sanctify and cleanse it with the washing of water by the word, That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish…even as the Lord [loves] the church: For we are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his bones (Eph 5:24-30).
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have heard it too.  “God wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”
            We have completely misunderstood the purpose of God when we think our happiness here has anything to do with it.  Especially if I have gotten myself into a fix that cannot be unraveled, if my being miserable in this life will accomplish his purpose, I know which matters more to him.  He is in the position to see the end, while I am stuck here seeing only the here and now and, far too often, neither learning from the past nor considering the future.  God knows what is best, and what is best is eternal salvation—the next life, not this one. 
            God has been saying this for thousands of years, but just like the ones who did not want to hear what Jesus had to say about his kingdom, we don’t want to hear what God has had to say about our physical lives. 
            Think of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others who suffered long and hard to accomplish their missions.  Think of Josiah who, because of his diligence in restoring the worship of Jehovah among his people, was given the reward of an early death—he would not have to see their punishment.  Think of John the Baptist who lived a short life precisely because God wanted it that way.  He had accomplished what was necessary—preaching repentance and preparing the people for the Messiah.  That mattered more than his living a long, “happy” life.   He even came to realize it when he told his disciples, “He must increase and I must decrease.”  In this case, his “decrease” meant he had to be removed so the conflict, and even the jealousy, between his disciples and Jesus’ disciples would disappear.  Imagine what that would have done to God’s plan.  God used the machinations of a wicked woman to do it, but his purpose was accomplished, and John, the greatest ever born at the time (Matt 11:11), never had a normal, “happy” life. 
            When did Paul say that David died?  Not after he got old and had lived a full life, but after “serving the purpose of the Lord,” Acts 13:23.  That’s what he was here for, and nothing else.  If you could talk to him now, I bet you he would say that the sorrows he bore were well worth it. 
            Paul makes a distinction between walking “in the flesh” and “according to the flesh,” 2 Cor 10:2,3.  He talks about people who make decisions “according to the flesh,” 1:17; he mentions those who live their entire lives not as people interested in their spiritual lives, but only in their physical lives, 1 Cor 3:1-3.  We may have to live as physical beings, but God expects us to keep our minds on the spiritual not the physical; on his purpose, not our selfish aims; on the eternal, not the temporal. 
            It is not my plans that matter.  Do I think that because I was only a Eunice I had no hand in the salvation of the souls Timothy’s preaching produced?  Do I think that because I was a Zebedee I had nothing to do with what my sons accomplished for the kingdom?  Those two people certainly fulfilled an important part of God’s plan.  To have tried to have been something other than they were because of their own selfish ambitions would have been to second guess God’s plan.
            Sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Sometimes God does want us to be unhappy in this life, if it means the salvation of souls.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain unmarried if they have ruined their chances for a scriptural marriage.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain in miserable marriages as long as possible.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain celibate if their “natural” tendency is to gravitate toward a sinful relationship.  Yes, he does mean for some to spend years of their lives paying society for their crimes even though they have repented.  Yes, he does mean for us to give up our life plans for the sake of his Eternal Plan.  Yes, he does mean for us to suffer illness and die, to be victims of accidents and calamities and perish, “for time and chance happen to all.”  If I think being happy in this life on this earth is the aim, I have missed the point of my existence altogether. 
            So whether or not I become blind in this life, whether you live long or die early, whether your marriage is good or bad, whether you feel fulfilled in your chosen occupation, none of those is the issue.  The question is, what can I do for God?  What can I do for others?  What can I do to ensure my own soul’s salvation?  Until I can accept God’s plan for me with joy, especially when it is something I do not want and had not planned on, I am not yet living the attitude “thy will be done.”
 
For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, Rom 14:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

I recently taught a class in which the various tenets of a major religious philosophy came up for discussion.  After a lengthy explanation of only one of those items, one of the class members said to me, “It must take a theologian to make something that is so simple so complicated.”  The more I thought about it, the more I agreed with her.  Just a little common sense makes them all sound ridiculous.
            Have you heard that we are all born in sin, totally depraved and unable to do anything good?  Yes, I can take some passages out of context and completely apart from the rest of the teaching of scriptures and make them say anything I want them to say too.  So?  Common sense makes it plain that this is a ploy to blame our sins on God.  After all, He is the one who made us, who created us the way He did.
            Now just exactly how did God create man?  He made us in his own image!  Now tell me I am completely and totally depraved and unable to do anything good.  That is not only ridiculous, but patently irreverent and probably sacrilegious as well, if I am indeed made in the image of God.
            But that doctrine does do this for me:  it takes the blame off of me when I sin.  It makes my sins completely and utterly God’s fault for making me that way.  Let me know if you are willing to be the one who stands before Him and tries out that excuse.
            The Bible teaches that there was a time when I was without sin, Rom 7:9.  What could that possibly be but childhood, before I was unable to recognize a consciousness of sin?  At that point, “Sin revived and I died [spiritually].”  So much for “born in sin.”
            Then there are passages galore that tell us that sinning is our choice.  “Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies,” Rom 6:12.  “God is faithful and will not allow you to be tempted beyond your ability but will with the temptation provide the way of escape,” 1 Cor 10:13.  “Resist the devil and he will flee from you,” James 4:7.  My class easily came up with a dozen more telling us that sin is not inevitable for the Christian, the one who now has the help of Christ, that he now has a choice.  That means we do not have to sin--the blame is ours, not God’s, not the church’s, not our parents’, not society’s—not even Adam’s.
            And it certainly makes wonderful and obvious sense that someone created in the image of God was not only created “very good,” Gen 1:31, but also has the power to choose between right and wrong.  The problem comes not because we have no choice, but when we make the wrong choice.  You have to work pretty hard to complicate that.
 
And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness, Gen 1:26.
Behold, this only have I found: that God made man upright, Eccl 7:29.
"'In him we live and move and have our being'; as even some of your own poets have said, "'For we are indeed his offspring.'” Acts 17:28.
Put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness, Eph 4:24.
 
Dene Ward
 

I was concerned when we left our property because it had to be done quickly, so while packing, I cleaned each shelf as I emptied it—in the kitchen, in closets, in the laundry, and in bathrooms.  Early the week we left, I cleaned all the bathrooms, and sprayed down the shower the night before.  As the furniture was being emptied out of the house, I began sweeping—the floors and even the walls behind larger pieces of furniture that hadn't seen light of day in several decades.  And because the movers told us we had to go when they did, I even left a very good friend behind sweeping the last couple of rooms I hadn't gotten to yet.  The place was as clean as I could reasonably make it without an extra day to hire a cleaning company—but the buyer was impatient and wanted in NOW!  Still I felt a little bad about it not being exactly perfect.
            Then we arrived here and I stopped worrying.  Obviously, no one had cleaned up for us even a little bit.  I suppose they had swept, but the baseboards had not been touched in years, no exaggeration.  Every room was surrounded by a thin black line a couple inches above the floor.  And the bathrooms?  One day I spent three hours cleaning top to bottom, stem to stern, on step stools and on my hands and knees, and you could barely tell it because the stains were so set in.  And I must have scraped (with a knife) a quarter inch of soap scum off each soap holder, top and bottom.  Dust was caked above doors, above electrical outlets, and in every crevice of anything that could catch it for the past twenty years.  The air conditioner filter apparently had never been changed and you might be surprised what that makes blow out of the vents across the ceilings!  No one had cleaned these shelves as they packed.  I had to clean them before I could unpack.  The concrete floor of the back porch was black when it should have been gray.  I think that's enough for you to see what we had to deal with.
            Maybe because of all that grime, whenever we came across something left behind, I picked it up with two fingers and immediately tossed it.  I wanted absolutely nothing to do with anything that came from this filthy house. 
            But did I feel that way about the house I left behind?  I wondered, when the buyer took down some of the things that were attached to the house and we were instructed to leave, if he had felt the same way about our things.  I hope that the obvious effort we had gone to made a difference, but why should it?  If he found any dirt at all, it probably disgusted him as much as this dirt disgusted me.
            And isn't that always the case?  My dirt is not as bad as someone else's.  I could even change the diapers of my own children and grandchildren a whole lot more easily than I could anyone else's children's. 
            And that makes it harder to see our dirt, doesn't it?  And when we do, much less likely to be concerned about it.  Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? (Matt 7:3-4).
            But dirt is dirt is dirt, and sin is sin is sin, as James indicated in 2:11.  Yours is not worse than mine, nor mine than yours.  They are all evil in God's eyes, and when someone has the love (and courage) to tell us about them, it should be a cause for rejoicing and gratitude, not anger.  Maybe we should all work on that a little more.
          God dwells in the church, his people.  Christ dwells in us by faith.  Neither of them wants to live in a dirty house, no matter whose dirt it is.
 
Jesus answered him, If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him (John 14:23).
 
Dene Ward

On September 9, 1776, The United Colonies became the United States of America, a name adopted by the Second Continental Congress.  That name meant something.  We were no longer the colonies of Great Britain, but individual states bound together into one brand new country.  It still means something to most Americans.  Why else do we constantly hear the chant, "USA! USA! USA!" at the Olympics?  We are proud to be Americans.
            Far more important is the name of God, yet this country, which values its own name so much, thinks less and less of His.
Have you noticed that no one can speak two sentences without taking the name of the Lord in vain?  Even children are uttering a phrase that once was never spoken in polite company, that men begged a lady’s pardon for saying, that television censors bleeped.  When you have an abbreviation for it, it has become entirely too common.  I have a friend who wants to make tee shirts with “omg” under the universal “not allowed” sign of a circle with a slash.  But that three word monstrosity is just the first, and most obvious way to take God’s name in vain.
            Recently, while I was doing some research, I came across a website called Judaism 101.  At the top, the following phrase caught my eye:  Please note that this page contains the name of God.  If you print it out, please treat it with appropriate respect.
            Oh, how we need this lesson today, and I don’t just mean the heathen out there in the world.
            The name of God stands for far more than the name we call Him.  It stands for His essence and nature.  It represents His history and reputation.  And I will sanctify my great Name which has been profaned among the nations, Ezek 36:23.  How would you feel if your “good name,” as we speak of this concept, were thrown around carelessly, used in sarcastic movie or book titles, or joked about?  Yet it goes much farther than that.
            In Judaism, any act that causes God to come into disrespect, or a commandment to be broken, is often referred to as profaning the name of God.  This makes sense when you realize that any good deed we do is spoken of as “sanctifying” or “glorifying” his name.  Even so let your light shine before men; that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:16.  One is just the opposite of the other, and there you have the second way to profane the Name of God—disobey or cause someone else to disobey Him.
            Number three hits a little closer to home.  The Name of God stands for His Authority.  Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the Name of the Lord, Col 3:17.  If a policeman yells out, “Stop in the name of the law,” he is telling you that the law of the land gives him the authority to stop you, and you had better do it or pay the consequences.  Too many of my brethren are out there pooh-poohing God’s Authority these days, as if “authority” were a bad word.  When you act without God’s authority, you are profaning His Name as surely as if you spoke it in vain.  You have no respect for that Authority, nor, thus, for His Name.
            The website I mentioned listed several things that orthodox Jews will and will not do in reference to the Name of God.  Some of them seem awfully, well, "Pharisaic" comes to mind.  But at least they have the right idea, while we bandy about The Name of God as if it were just any other word, then profane it with careless, or even scornful attitudes, disobey His commands because they don’t suit us, and rationalize our way out of a life of sacrificial service because it’s “too hard” and “makes me feel like a failure.”  Disrespecting the authority of God is one and the same as profaning His Name, and conservative fundamentalists take part in it every day.  Number three is the scary one because it is so easy to fall into and still think you are just fine because you are so prone to shout Amen and Hallelujah.
            God is Holy.  His Name is Holy.  His essence is Holiness.  Since I claim to be His child, anything I say or do that detracts from that Holiness profanes His Name.  It can be a careless phrase.  It can be downright disobedience.  It can be deciding for God what He will and won’t mind.  Meditate on that awhile.  Stand in awe of a God whose Name is so powerful that it created the worlds, and be just a little scared of how you treat it.
 
There is none like you among the gods, O Lord, nor are there any works like yours. All the nations you have made shall come and worship before you, O Lord, and shall glorify your name. For you are great and do wondrous things; you alone are God. Teach me your way, O LORD, that I may walk in your truth; unite my heart to fear your name. I give thanks to you, O Lord my God, with my whole heart, and I will glorify your name forever. Psalms 86:8-12
 
Dene Ward    

While that old chestnut about "reverend" only being in the Bible once is wrong (the English word may only be in the King James Version once, but the Hebrew word it is translated from is in there well over 300 times and often refers to men), the scriptures are plain about the attitude we should have toward God and only God, both in word and deed.
            In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him stood the seraphim. Each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. And one called to another and said: “Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory!” And the foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke. And I said: “Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” (Isa 6:1-5)
            If that passage doesn't make you shiver, you have missed its point.  Isaiah felt that reverential awe we should all feel about God.  Contrast his words with the casual approach we take to God these days.  I imagine the old story about the young man who walked up front to pray on behalf of the congregation and began his prayer with, "Hi Dad!" is apocryphal.  Or maybe it isn't.  But it doesn't take much time to look and listen to see that attitude everywhere in our culture, maybe in our assemblies as well in many other ways.
            Here's something else to think about.  Look at the next few verses in Isaiah.  Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” Then I said, “Here I am! Send me.” And he said, “Go, and say to this people…’ (Isa 6:6-9)
            Isaiah's sin had to be atoned for before he could speak God's word to others.  It only makes sense.  If you are the vessel that God's word comes from, you had better be holy, just as God is.  Now how about me?  How about you?  If my life speaks of sin, I am not fit to proclaim His Word.  If my words are not pure, I have no business using my mouth as His.  When I hear a man talk about "his Lord and Savior" and then spout filth or take that same Lord's name in vain, I know he needs a hot coal pressed on those foul lips of his.
            Be careful what you say this morning—and what you do, especially if you plan to talk to people about the Most Holy God.
 
As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile. (1Pet 1:14-17)
 
Dene Ward

It was one of those recuperating days I have had so many of the past few years, so I sat in my lounger outside, the early morning autumn breeze ruffling my hair, a sweet little dog snuffling for a pat at my side, looking out over our domain, such as it is.  The east sun was filtering through the woods fifty yards in front of me, not yet high enough to cause me any trouble. 
            I had carried a pair of binoculars to do a little bird-watching, but saw on the northeast corner of the property what looked like a giant orange bloom.  So I lifted those heavy lenses and got a surprise.  The bloom did not really exist.  What I saw was the sun shining on a clump of dried out pine straw hanging on a low, dead limb.  I pulled down the binoculars and looked again.  I much preferred the big orange bloom.
            Then I started looking around and saw some more.  The dull green leaves near the top of the tree glinted like small mirrors in the few rays of sun that had pierced through to them.  Even the gray Spanish moss resembled icicles.  I knew in a few minutes the effect would all be gone.  The sun would have risen high enough not to perform these magic tricks.  Still, it reminded me of something important.
            All by myself I am nothing, I can do nothing, and I have nothing to hope for.  But the light of the gospel changes everything.  Through that light, we are able to see the glory of Christ and believe (2 Cor 4:3-6.)  When we are raised from the waters of baptism, God’s glory gives us the power to walk “in newness of life” (Rom 6:4).  We transform ourselves into the image of His Son by the renewing of our minds (Rom 12:2, 8:29).  When the glory of the Lord shines on us through our submission to his gospel, what looks plain and ordinary becomes beautiful, what looks dead and repulsive becomes glorious.  That’s us we’re talking about—you and me.  We can be beautiful.
            Look at your life today.  Would someone see a beautiful bloom, a sparkling mirror, a glittering icicle?  They only will if you have allowed that light inside you, if you have let it have its way, transforming you into the person God meant you to be from the beginning.  Some will not do this.  They fight it, and offer excuses of all sorts.  “I’m only human after all.”  “No one is perfect.”  “Someone has to have common sense around here and not be such an innocent babe!” “It’s my right after all.”  None of those will give anyone a beautiful view of a child of God.
            Peter reminds us, As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, "You shall be holy, for I am holy." 1 Peter 1:14-16.  If we are not submissive to his will, we will never be transformed to his image.  We will look like nothing but dried out pine straw on a dead limb, and all the excuses in the world will never change it. 
            “What would Jesus do?” may be an old denominational catch-phrase, but is it any different than, “Be ye holy as I am holy?”  God desires nothing more than for us to be exactly like Christ, “conformed to the image of his son” Rom 8:29, “that you might follow in his steps” 1 Pet 2:21.  If you find yourself looking through the world’s binoculars and seeing nothing but your old self, the light of the gospel has not reached your heart.
            Conform yourself today.  In every aspect of your life, in every action you take, and every word you speak, “be ye holy in all your conduct.”  You can do it, or God wouldn’t have asked it of you.
 
But we all, with unveiled face reflecting as a mirror the glory of the Lord, are transformed into the same image from glory to glory, even as from the Lord the Spirit. 2 Cor 3:18

I have a friend who, before she retired, kept a bar of soap in her desk drawer.  Whenever a new young hire came in, it wasn't long before she was telling him about her soap and how much he needed to chew on it awhile.  If you have not noticed, the language around us is simply atrocious. 

"It's just a word," one young co-worker proclaimed.

"Choose another one," she tersely replied.

Why anyone would think that filthy language was appropriate in a professional setting, I cannot imagine.  But then I go out in the world and hear children saying words I would never have breathed aloud when I was young—not if I wanted to sit down again any time soon.

I am not just talking about the four letter words that people usually consider "dirty" or even taking the Lord's name in vain.  As a culture we have become crude and vulgar.  Lucy and Ethel had us rolling in the floor as we watched their antics on the candy wrapping conveyor belt and in the wine vat.  Now we seem to require a heavy dose of bathroom humor or sexual innuendo before anything is deemed funny. 

And talk about hypocrisy—the same media that berates the president for his bad language gives us a show called "S*****'s Creek" and a movie called "Meet the F*****s" with all the attendant jokes that can obviously be made from those two titles.  I won't dignify them with their supposedly cleaned up names.

Do you think it hasn't affected Christians?  I hear words all the time that I would never have been allowed to say without being punished.  No, they aren't "dirty" words.  They're just crude.  Swear words aren't the only words Christians shouldn't be speaking.  I regularly delete posts on Facebook from my brothers and sisters that a Christian shouldn't have spoken aloud to a few, much less put out there for literally thousands to see, demeaning their purity and holiness. 

Our culture has even managed to make it acceptable to use one of the ugliest phrases in our language, a phrase that would have ended up in a parking lot beat down when I was a child.  And the younger generation steadfastly refuses to accept its origin just because they can find no one who knows it either.  My poor husband wound up vilified once because he dared suggest that a brother shouldn't use that term, which refers to a homosexual act.  Even if the younger generation refuses to recognize the vulgarity for what it is, we older folks know exactly what it means and "everyone says it" never has been and never will be an acceptable excuse. 

Is it really that important?  Paul says it is.

And there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. (Eph 5:4)  That term "coarse jesting" is actually one word in the Greek and it isn't necessarily talking about dirty jokes.  It's talking about crudity, vulgarity, double entendres, and any other sort of coarse language.  It refers to bathroom humor, bodily functions, sexual innuendo and anything that should be unacceptable in polite society, and even more so among those who claim lives of purity.  Look at the rest of the context.

But immorality or any impurity or greed must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints; and there must be no filthiness and silly talk, or coarse jesting, which are not fitting, but rather giving of thanks. For this you know with certainty, that no immoral or impure person or covetous man, who is an idolater, has an inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God. (Eph 5:3-5).

Do you see the implications Paul makes?  If I speak like this, I am impure, immoral, and not fit to be in the kingdom.  That's how important this is.  We are supposed to be different.  How will it be known if we sound just like everyone else, and laugh at the same crude humor?  Remember the old Ivory Soap ads?  "99 and 44/100th percent pure," they claimed.  We should be trying for a purity even beyond that, but we end up looking like someone dropped us in a tar pit when we open our mouths.

I am not some ignorant fool who does not realize that Paul spoke from time to time in figures that were shocking.  I would that they that unsettle you would even go beyond circumcision, (Gal 5:12) is a prime example.  But let me ask you this.  How much shock value would that statement have had if he spoke that way all the time?  This was a special circumstance.  People were losing their souls.  When this was read, I imagine there was a collective gasp as everyone suddenly understood how serious Paul was about the matter.  He would never had said such a thing otherwise.

Us?  We sound like that constantly, just for laughs, or even about the trivial everyday stuff.  I feel like my friend—I need to carry a bar of soap around.  But I never imagined I would have to offer it to a brother.
 
Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear. (Eph 4:29)
 
Dene Ward

Did you brush your teeth this morning?  Are you sure?  Do you really remember it, or are you remembering yesterday morning, or a morning last week?  How many other things do we do automatically, without thinking?  How about those scary times when you have been driving 10 or 15 minutes and suddenly realize you don’t remember that stop sign half a mile from the house or anything else between there and here?
            How about your spiritual life?  How many things do we do automatically?  We have a tendency to condemn that sort of thing, acting without thinking, as if it is hypocrisy, but is that always the case?
            I have always been in the same place every Sunday morning of my life, barring illness or injury.  No, the physical location may not be the same, but anyone who knows me, knows that on Sunday mornings I am assembling with my brothers and sisters in the Lord at wherever I happen to be.  There is never any question what I will do on Sunday morning if I am at all able.
            I used to worry about falling asleep in the middle of my final prayer of the day.  Surely, “pillow talk” is a close, intimate form of communication.  In fact, it is one thing we miss in our marriage—you cannot whisper to a deaf man.  So why should I be remorseful about falling asleep while having a comfortable, private moment with my Father?  Yes, there are times for more formal, reverential prayers, but who else would I rather be speaking to in my last conscious moments of the day, and why should He be upset with me if I feel so comfortable and easy with Him?  It’s not like it’s the only time we speak.  It is, in fact, second nature for me to do so.
            “Second nature” is defined as an acquired behavior or trait that is so long practiced as to seem natural or inborn.  It comes from an old proverb, “Custom (or usage) is a second nature,” which was first recorded in 1390. 
            “First” nature, then, would be things we do instinctively, that are inborn.  When we are born again into the kingdom of God, it becomes our responsibility to change our behavior, practicing it so frequently, that it eventually becomes our “second” nature, something we do automatically, with hardly any thought at all, but which we had to learn. 
            In the beginning of my life as a Christian I must consciously make decisions about how to react to others and how to order my new life.  Eventually, though, if I am practicing these things on a regular basis, that should become easier and easier.  How long have I been a Christian yet I still fly off the handle, still say things I should not say, still lower myself to the level of the world by seeking revenge over the silliest things in the most childish ways?  I must not be working hard enough to change those habits, for that is what they are, and they can be changed with enough effort, and with the help of Christ.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me, Phil 4:13.
            This does not mean there will no longer be moments of weakness, times when I am more susceptible to my old behaviors.  But if those old behaviors are still constant in my life, where is the transformation Paul talks about in Romans 12?  Why have I not become more closely conformed to the image of his son, (Rom 8:29)?  Something about me is supposed to have undergone a permanent change!
            Certainly, I must have my mind on my prayers and the words I sing.  I must listen consciously and carefully to those who seek to edify me.  My worship must not be rote.  But there is something to be said for operating on automatic pilot in my spiritual life. At some point it must reach past what I do, and become a matter of who I am.  If this never happens, then something is missing, and I need to find it—and fix it—soon.
 
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.
 
Dene Ward