Keith mentioned a few weeks ago that Sonny James had died.  “Who?” I asked.

“You know—‘Running Bear,’ and ‘Young Love’—the country singer.”

Ah!  “Running Bear” I remembered.  It was on the radio nearly every day for a while when I was a young teen. 

So, I got to thinking and, it being just passed, I looked up the Oscar winners.  Tell me, do you know who Warren Baxter was?  He won the 1930 Best Actor Oscar for his role in “In Old Arizona.”  I never even heard of the movie.  How about Paul Lukas?  He won in 1944.  Don’t tell me, “But that’s so long ago.”  It hasn’t even been a hundred years.  It certainly isn’t ancient history.

How about nominees?  Let’s just sit awhile in the Best Actress category.  Ruth Chatterton?  Betty Compson? Jeanne Eagels?  They were nominated in 1928.  May Robson and Diana Wynyard?  They came along in 1932.  Martha Scott?  That was 1941, and Celia Johnson was nominated in 1945.  Okay, let’s make it easier.  How about 1966?  That was Ida Kaminska.  I still never heard of her.  Marie-Christine Barrault was nominated in 1976.  Surely you know her?  Here’s an easy one—1989.  Most of you were probably born by then.  Ever hear of Pauline Collins?  Me neither.

I bet I could do the same thing with Emmys, Tonys, Grammys, and how about Heisman awards?  Do you see the point?  A huge percentage of these people will never be remembered by most people just a few years from now.  Acting is not that important in the grand scheme of things.  Touchdown passes, slam dunks, and home runs don’t really matter.  Why, oh why, do we lavish our praise and adoration on these people?  Why do we wear their colors and their uniform numbers, dress like they do, talk like they do, and want their signatures on hats and shirts and napkins?

Think for a minute: who do we remember?  How about a widow who sewed for the poor in the town of Joppa?  How about a Christian couple who were chased out of Rome for being of Jewish extraction, but who kept traveling preachers in their home and even helped teach them and anyone else who came along, even at the risk of death?  How about a wealthy woman in Jerusalem who allowed the church to meet in her home in the midst of a dangerous persecution so they could pray for those in prison?  How about a disciple in Damascus who took his life into his hands to preach to one of the church’s worst persecutors?  How about yet another one who was known for his encouraging ways, who traveled and preached and took young preachers under his wing till they could grow to be mature servants of God?

I bet you know every one of their names and can find their stories in your Bible.  These are the things that last.  These are the things that no one will forget.  These are the things that will make a difference to lives, and more than that, to eternal souls. 

And most of these are things we can do, too.  Do you want to be remembered?  Put down the football.  Throw down the novel.  Turn off the DVD.  Pull out the earbuds.  Now go out there and do good to whomever you find, everywhere you can.  You will be remembered—by many, and especially by the One who counts.

​…Provide yourselves with moneybags that do not grow old, with a treasure in the heavens that does not fail, where no thief approaches and no moth destroys. ​For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also…for what is exalted among men is an abomination in the sight of God.  Luke 12:33-34; 16:15.

Dene Ward

Look at what is before your eyes. If anyone is confident that he is Christ's, let him remind himself that just as he is Christ's, so also are we. 2Cor 10:7.

We’ve been examining all the repeated lessons in the New Testament, the ones the writers felt needed a rerun because they were that important.  Usually we look at the passage in context.  This one we will take squarely out of context.  The message still works and it is rerun again and again, in every context imaginable.  We obviously need, as the passage says, reminding.

Some of the Corinthians were still having difficulty accepting Paul as an apostle.  In this short verse he reminds them of what should have been obvious:  We both belong to Christ.  That should have had an impact on them when they considered what he was telling them and how they received him.  Don’t you judge the motives of a brother differently than anyone else?  You ought to because you know he has sworn allegiance to the same Lord as you, the one who demands a lifestyle that abhors sin.  He isn’t a pagan.  And that kinship creates an instant bond no matter where you may run into one another.

This lesson has been taught in the scripture since the beginning.  The fact that Cain killed his own brother made that murder even worse.  When Lot and Abraham began having difficulties, Abraham came to him to work things out.  It shouldn’t be like this, he told Lot, because, “We are brethren,” Gen 13:8.  When Moses saw the two Hebrews fighting he said to them, “You are brothers.  Why do you wrong each other?” Acts 7:26. 

Yes, if we are brethren, if we both belong to Christ, it should make a difference in how we treat one another.  Peter goes so far as to say that obeying the truth should have the effect of producing in us not just cold, formal love for each other, but an intense and passionate love, one that never pretends.   Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart, 1Pet 1:22.  If I do not feel that way about my brothers and sisters, he seems to be saying, then maybe I haven’t really “obeyed the truth.”

John agrees.  He says if we do not love our brethren, we are in darkness and in death; that we are liars and murderers, 1 John 2:9-11; 3:14-19; 4:20,21.  Christ died for us all.  If he loved me that much, he loved you that much, too, which means I should love you that much and you me.  We are instantly bound together in the same emotional context of gratitude and wonder and unity. 

I know, I know.  You’ve heard these “love” lessons all your life.  When you hear another starting, you almost sigh and roll your eyes.  “Again?  What else is there to say?”

Nothing.  It’s a rerun, but it’s a rerun found in nearly every book of the Bible.  That means it’s worth our hearing again.  And again.  And again. 

Unless you think you’ve already got this one whipped?

With all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. Eph 4:2-3.

Dene Ward

I am still walking on that elliptical machine I told you about a few years ago.  With another measureable loss of vision lately, it becomes more and more the only safe way to exercise—you don’t step in any holes or trip over limbs or vines on an elliptical machine

I stepped off one day a couple of months ago and looked at the read-out.  It informed me that I had “walked” three and a half miles in 30 minutes.

“Wow,” I thought.  “Not bad.”  And then I thought to myself, “Wait a minute.”  Thirty years ago I only managed five miles in 48 minutes JOGGING.  That’s over nine minutes a mile.  And thirty years later I am supposed to believe I beat that rate WALKING?

“Hmppph,” I muttered with my new perspective, “If that’s true, I’m a Martian.”

Looking at myself through the eyes of cold clear logic, I cut the read-out figures almost in half.  Maybe I managed two miles—maybe.  I don’t have much faith in that read-out now.

But—can I be just as clear-headed when I examine my heart?  Can I see with cool logic that my words and thoughts give me away? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks, Matt 12:34.  Can I see the flaws, the weak spots, the chinks in my armor?

Believing the best about myself may seem “healthy. “ It may feel good.  It may give me a boost, and surely it’s more important to be encouraged than depressed, isn’t it?  Spiritual buoyancy is not the way to Heaven.  In fact, it will lead you the other direction quickly. 

I need to see clearly.  Deluding myself about my faults won’t fix my soul any more than walking two miles will burn the same calories as walking three and a half.  And one is a whole lot more important than the other.

Let no one deceive himself. If anyone among you thinks that he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise, 1Cor 3:18

Dene Ward

 Before we were even a country, two families had a dispute about the boundary line between their lands, the Penns and the Calverts.  Eventually it led to actual violence at the borders, including an eight year conflict called Cresap’s War.  Finally the families hired Charles Mason and Jeremiah Dixon, English astronomers and surveyors, to settle the matter, resulting in what is now the boundary between Pennsylvania and Maryland, plus what would become West Virginia and Delaware.  Neither family got all of what they claimed; they both gave up ground.  We now know the line those men created as the Mason-Dixon line, a line which separated the North and the South during the Civil War.  (Smithsonian Magazine, May 25, 2017)

 It seems that people are always fussing about something.  Even in the early church, in a time when their unity was crucial, someone always found something to pick a fight about.  All of those people who had come for the Jewish holidays but wound up spending far more time than expected when they heard the gospel and believed, being baptized into that first group of Christians in Jerusalem, found themselves short of funds.  They had probably saved all year for the trip, and had left behind homes, businesses, and other assets, expecting to return home as soon as possible.  Staying in Jerusalem meant no work for many, and no way to feed their families.  Many sold lands and made huge donations to feed those families, but someone evidently saw and made a difference between the Jews who lived in Palestine and those who lived elsewhere in the world:   Now in these days when the disciples were increasing in number, a complaint by the Hellenists arose against the Hebrews because their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution Acts6:1.  Hellenists, mind you, were still Jews—they were just Jews from somewhere else.  “Somewhere else” has long been a source of trouble for many.  Remember in the Law God had to make sure He told His people to be kind to the “sojourners,” people living in the Promised Land temporarily.  Some of His people didn’t like that.

 Then, of course, once Gentiles were made part of the new kingdom people had issues with that.  “Well, I guess it’s okay, but they need to be good Jews first.”  At least that is the gist of the feelings—read Acts 15 and Galatians, especially.  Then in 1 Corinthians we find people creating groups over who baptized them and even who had which spiritual gift—”as if you had anything to do with which gift you received” Paul tells them, more or less, in 1 Cor 4:7. 

 The last great prayer Jesus left us with spends much of its time on this very topic, unity:  that they may be one even as we are one John 17:11.  And why is it so important?    That they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent meJohn17:21.  A lack of unity will impede the great mission that the Lord gave His kingdom—saving the world.  If we are busy fussing and fighting among ourselves, why should anyone else want to join us?  And what a monumental waste of the precious time we have been given to complete the job.  It is nothing short of selfishness and arrogance to put our differences and preferences and opinions ahead of the commands of the Lord to go and teach, and make disciples.

 If you are seeing differences between you and a brother or sister in the Lord, fix it now.  You do not want to have to explain your refusal to do so to a Lord who gave up everything for you.

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.  And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise Gal3: 28,29

Dene Ward

When I was a child, my piano teacher was a member of an organization, the benefits of which allowed her students to participate in several events, competitions, and joint recitals.  Fast forward twenty years and, as a piano and voice teacher myself, I rediscovered that organization and joined for the sake of my own students—and they ate it up.

The stated purpose of the organization is “furthering music education and fostering a musical environment in our communities through the sponsorship of musical events and by providing performing opportunities for our talented and deserving young people.”  In other words, it is a service organization in the area of music.  It’s all about the cultural welfare of the community and the patronage of young artists.

But as wonderful as that sounds, not every member “got it.”  As I became more and more involved at higher (district) and higher (state) levels, politics and self-aggrandizement reared their ugly heads.  Let me give you an example. 

In their goal to spread music in the communities, local groups were encouraged to present programs open to the public in several areas: opera, dance, American composers, women composers, and several others.  As motivation a plaque was awarded to the group who had done the best in each category based upon written reports sent to State Chairmen, complete with printed programs, photographs, and news items.

One year I was one of those chairmen.  I received a dozen reports of outstanding programs all across the state in the opera category.  Truly every group deserved recognition for their efforts.  In fact, I could have easily made a case for the smallest group, and a rural one at that, because for their lack of resources both monetary and talent, their creativity in making opera palatable to a less cultured area of the state had been astounding.  But of course, it was not quite up to the big city group who had staged a full opera nor another urban organization who had managed to coax nationally acclaimed Met stars to appear.

At the weekend of the awards I could not make the trip five hours south.  My husband had been shot in the line of duty and besides caring for him, I was also fending off the media and arranging appointments with doctors and lawyers and counselors.  So I sent my choice of winner and a letter of explanation for my absence.

At nearly ten o’clock that evening I received a phone call from a member of one of the big city groups.  At first I thought, “How sweet.  Yes, it’s late, but she has just heard about our ordeal and is calling to check on us.”  But no, that was the last thing on her mind, if it was at all.  These were the first words out of her mouth:

“I called to ask why we didn’t win the plaque this year.”

Clearly this woman did not share the same goals as this organization.  To her it was about acclaim, about winning prizes, about being number one among her brothers and sisters.  And just as clearly, other people’s problems, no matter how dire, did not matter to her one bit.

I hope that little story makes you shake your head in disgust, and after you have done that, ask yourself these questions:

Why am I a Christian?

Do I serve others?

Do I do things for the church I assemble with, serving in whatever capacity is needed?

And more to the point:

Have I ever been miffed because MY name wasn’t mentioned?

Have I ever stopped speaking to someone who did not thank me as I thought I deserved?

Have I ever stopped visiting or calling or helping someone who didn’t return the favor?

Maybe we all need to remember the example the Lord set, not just that one night in the upper room washing even Judas’s feet, or even those hours on the cross, but every morning he opened his eyes on this earth among people who hated him, ridiculed him, assaulted him, tried to kill him, and eventually did.  And we need to remember why he did it.  It certainly wasn’t for a plaque!

This organization he set up, the one he called “mine” (Matt 16:18) has a purpose that has nothing to do with my glory.  It is the greatest purpose of any group anywhere—the salvation of mankind, no matter what it takes from me in terms of service or sacrifice. 

Yes, if we are faithful we will receive a prize.  But if the prize is the only reason we are doing it, then the prize is the very thing we will not receive.

So I endure all things for the sake of those chosen by God, that they too may obtain salvation in Christ Jesus and its eternal glory. 2Tim 2:10

Dene Ward

 I remember sitting at my desk in first grade looking at my middle finger and wondering what that bump was.  I did not see well, of course, so all I could tell was that it stuck out and seemed to be hard and tough.  My mother told me when I asked, that I had developed a callus from the constant writing and coloring we did at school.  “That way your finger won’t hurt from the pencil rubbing on it over and over.”  It seemed a pretty nifty idea to me, at age 6, that God had arranged it so I could go to school and do my work without hurting myself.  Plenty of other things hurt in my world of poor vision and the resulting clumsiness and rejection from my peers, so here was one thing that did not.  Very nice!

 As I grew older I found other calluses, things I would not have noticed except for that brief conversation with my mother.  Calluses on the backs of my heels and calluses on the side of my big toe made it comfortable to wear shoes, for example.  I even remember waiting for calluses to form with a new pair of shoes that rubbed me in a new way, usually wearing a Band-Aid until that happened.  Overall, my impression was that calluses were a good thing.

 (I feel a need to clarify that I am not speaking of the adjective callous—which means someone who cares nothing for others, who is actively insensitive to their needs.)

 Now that I am old but not necessarily wise, I am more and more certain that God intends us to grow calluses on our hearts in at least one area—that is our dealings with one another.  Dealings with God are a different thing—we must maintain a soft and penitent heart constantly when we approach God, but with one another, the majority of passages tell me that a few good calluses will help us maintain the unity that God demands.  Look at these passages with me:

  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things 1Cor13:7.  If I love my brother I will assume the best about what he does or says, not jump to the worst possible conclusions. 

  Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins 1Pet 4:8.  Peter cannot possibly be talking about actual sins—nowhere in the Bible is condoning sin acceptable to God.  This must be a metaphor for the way we treat those little annoyances we all have (even if we don’t want to believe it of ourselves) and must deal with in our relationships.  Overlook those things, Peter says, if you really love one another.  In other words, grow a callus there.

   Take care then HOW you hear...Luke8:18.  Some of us hear with automatic judgment already formed in our hearts.  How do I know?  Because I would not have received the same thing said by my best friend in such a negative way.  I would have automatically excused her because she has so much on her plate right now, or she must be tired, or maybe she doesn’t feel well today, or—  Jesus reminds us that it is our choice how we hear a person’s words, even one we don’t much like.  Choice, we ask?  Yes, and this passage proves it.

 We are members of the Lord’s body, the church that was planned by God before the foundation of the world, (Eph 3:10,11).  Our mission is the  only thing that really matters.  Not my feelings, not my opinions, not my preferences.  If I allow any of those things to stop that mission, or deter it in any way, I have made me, myself, and I more important than God.  Being “sensitive” is no excuse.  God expects us to grow enough calluses on our hearts so that we can withstand the friction of our closeness with one another and do HIS work.  Look at those passages again.  When I don’t do those things, I am not loving as God expects me to—as God COMMANDS me to. 

 We all know people who make a career out of getting their feelings hurt.  Just imagine where we would all be if Jesus were as hypersensitive as some of us.  Don’t let your sensitive feelings turn you out of Heaven on the last day.

 ...The vexation of a fool is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult  Prov12:16.

Dene Ward

I certainly do not mean to be judgmental, but when people actually say it out loud, when they write it on Facebook posts, isn’t it a matter of “by your words you will be condemned” (Matt 12:37)?

Listen to the things people say about why they worship where they worship, or what makes that place appealing to them.

“I love the singing there.”

“The preacher is so easy for me to listen to.”

“I feel so good when I leave.”

“Everyone is so friendly and loving to me.”

“They came to visit me while I was in the hospital.”

Okay, so maybe a few of them are not terrible reasons, but do you see a common denominator in them all?  It’s all about me and how I feel.

Why is it you never hear things like this?

“I go because my God expects me to be a part of a group worship and accountable to a group of brethren and godly elders.” 

“I go so I can provoke others to love and good works as the Bible says.”

“I go to study God’s Word and this group actually studies the Bible instead of some synod’s pamphlet.”

“The sermons often step on my toes, but I want to be challenged to improve as a disciple of Christ.”

Can you see a completely different center of attention in those?  In fact, if the second list can be said to center on the object of our worship, what does that say about the object of worship in the first list?

I hear items from the first list often, but from the second seldom, if ever.  So here is my question:  If a person cannot find any items from the first list in a church, does that excuse him from the assembled worship in his area?  Of course not.

So why do we act like we are sacrificing something if the only place available has a preacher with poor speaking ability, no one who can carry a tune, and isn’t particularly outgoing?  If that is my idea of sacrificing for my Lord, I’d better hope our country never builds a modern Coliseum. 

Sometimes serving God is not a lot of fun.  Sometimes it isn’t very exciting.  Sometimes it is a lot of work with little appreciation.  Sometimes we will be ignored.  Sometimes we will be criticized.  Sometimes we will be the object of scorn and sometimes these things will come at the hands of our own brethren.  If I can’t take a boring sermon and off-key singing, what makes me think I can handle real persecution? 

If I would be ashamed for my first century martyred brethren to hear my griping about the church, why do I think it is acceptable for anyone to hear it?  Does it glorify God?  Does it magnify His church and His people?  No, I imagine it sends everyone else running from instead of running to “the pillar and ground of the truth,” the church for which “he gave himself up,” the manifestation of His “manifold wisdom” (1 Tim 3:15; Eph 5:25; 3:10).

And if somehow we could call it some sort of trial or persecution to worship with a group that is not exactly the ideal, what would the proper attitude be?  Certainly not griping about it, but rather “rejoicing that we are counted worthy to suffer,” (Acts 5:41).  Why, maybe we should actually go out and look for those places to worship! 

And if I did choose one of those places to hang my hat, would it really become any better with someone like me in it?  Make no mistake.  It isn’t about whether the kingdom of God, specifically the one I attend, is worthy of me and my commendation, it’s about whether I can ever be worthy of it.

For you know how, like a father with his children, we exhorted each one of you and encouraged you and charged you to walk in a manner worthy of God, who calls you into his own kingdom and glory, 1Thess 2:11-12.

Dene Ward

More than once I have been outside weeding and accidentally pulled up a fistful of thorns.  Usually it’s a blackberry vine, though stinging nettles are not far behind on the list.  Either one makes for pain and blood loss for at least a little while and I try hard to look a little closer before the next pull.

Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.”  It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings.  You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill.  It is heat and drought tolerant.  Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.

The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head.  I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines.  I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.

We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:

1. My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
    For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
    My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
    If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

2. I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
    And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
    I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
    If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

3. I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
    And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
    And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
    If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

4. In mansions of glory and endless delight,
    I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
    I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
    If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4.  “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.”  Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory.  If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me.  And you.  Even that prickly crown.

Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others?  Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties?  Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter?  Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one?  Can I let someone else have the last word?

Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word?  Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely?  Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?

Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer?  Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word?  Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?

None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?”  If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good.  That’s why we sing those songs.  They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.

When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns.  Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.

And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2

I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.

Dene Ward

 Despite 14 years of blog writing, I am still a Luddite when it comes to my knowledge and understanding of computers.  I can do the necessary, but should anything go wrong my stomach sinks, my heart pounds a mile a minute, and I go running to my younger brother in Christ who now hosts this blog and makes it run in spite of me.

 My new blog has a contact page, just as my old one did, but this one is much easier for me to handle.  Unfortunately, it must be much easier for everyone else too because I regularly delete four to five dozen spam (spams?) a week.  It doesn’t take that much time—I don’t even have to read past the first three words usually to know it’s headed for the trash bin.  What has become annoying though, are the three or four who send exactly the same mail word-for-word, several times a day.  No, I am not interested in the $27,000 jackpot, nor the earth-shatteringly inventive dog harness.  So my young friend has found a way to block them without them knowing about it and without losing the people who really need to contact me.

 That is what worries me—deleting someone I don’t want to delete.  Spam filters are notorious for that.  They don’t like my email address with the French name.  I have lost count of the times my own emails have wound up in the spam folders of people I was trying to reach, so I do not want to do that to anyone else.

 We all come with a built-in spam filter.  How many times have you seen someone come up your walk and you instantly prepare yourself to get out of the sales spiel as quickly as possible before you even open the door?  How often do we see someone come into our meeting places, someone a little bedraggled who seems a bit uncomfortable, and we instantly think, “They want some money?”  I wonder how many legitimate opportunities to reach the lost or to help a true brother in Christ we have missed out on.  I have told you before of the time we forgot out Sunday clothes when we went camping and had to go to worship in a strange town in our jeans and flannel shirts, only to be shunned as soon as we walked in the door.

 Perhaps we should work on un-installing those spam filters.  It takes me a whopping 5 minutes twice a week to get rid of the spam, going through it one at a time, but I never miss the contacts I truly need to see from people who need help or just have a question to ask.  They are worth the time I spend on the canned pork!

And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit, so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia.  For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere, so that we need not say anything1Thess1:6-8.

Dene Ward

I was checking my stats last month.  It is helpful to know which posts receive the most pageviews, the most shares, and the most likes.  It is instructive to see which days of the week are most active and which are least.  It’s just plain interesting to see where my referrals come from—some strange places sometimes, real head-scratchers, but even accidental evangelism is evangelism I suppose.

So in all that checking I discovered that on November 16, 2015, someone “unliked” a page, which I suppose means they had liked it in the first place and then changed their minds.  I think I must have hit a nerve.  Can I just say this at the beginning?  None of these posts is meant to make people angry.  I appreciate being challenged as a Christian.  I want to improve.  I simply assume that if you are bothering to read these, you do too.

Why is it that people don’t realize what they are revealing about themselves when, as the old saying goes, “The hit dog howls?”  If the preacher’s sermon is about gossip and I become angry and show it, isn’t it obvious that I bear some guilt over that subject? 

And here’s a novel idea—if someone steps on your toes, how about moving them?  A long time ago when I was young and extremely naïve, I actually thought that when you showed someone they were doing something wrong, they would quit doing it, especially brethren.  Now I know better. Only a few will take that high road.  Everyone else will find fault with you, tell others how mean you are, sometimes even spread lies about what you supposedly did to them.  Yes, even Christians—I use the term loosely.  Have I become your enemy then by telling you the truth? Paul asked the Galatians (4:16).  Evidently the answer is yes to some, unfortunately to many.

And this is what they tell people about themselves: Give instruction to a wise man and he will be still wiser; teach a righteous man and he will increase in learning, Prov 9:9.  Becoming angry over correction means a person is neither wise nor righteous, which is what that November post was all about.

Which brings us full circle, and for all I know, will get me “unliked” again.  I guess we’ll see.

Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it…Ps 141:5.

Dene Ward