His name was Joseph.  He came from an island off the coast, but had family in the city, and had come to worship at the two feast days, probably staying with his close relative Mary.  While he was there he saw and heard amazing things:  people speaking languages they had never studied, something that looked like fire but wasn’t, something that sounded like a windstorm but wasn’t, and a sermon that both astonished and convicted him.  He wound up staying in town, along with several thousand others who had become part of God’s new kingdom, the one they had been waiting for so long. 
            Despite their previous plans, they all chose to stay so they could learn, so they could grow, so they could mature before they went off on their own to spread the word in a world of sin, a world, they were told, that would reject them more often than accept them.  It wasn’t long till the practical needs of several thousand homeless people with no income could no longer be ignored. 
            Those who lived in the city helped as much as they could.  They took people in and collected funds to buy extra food and clothing.  Men were chosen to see to these needs.  Joseph helped as well, selling off extra property he owned, and donating the full amount to the group. 
            But that was not all he did.  Here was a man who excelled at encouragement, consolation, exhortation.  He was the first to give a pat on the back when it was needed, a hug, a kind word, a stern word, a teaching word, a “rah-rah” from the sidelines, a second chance to those whom others had given up on.  In fact, he became so good at it that the apostles gave him the nickname, “son of encouragement/consolation/exhortation,” whatever your version says in Acts 4:36.  And forever more in the scriptures, that is how we know him—Barnabas.  Did you even know that was not his real name?
            Whenever I think of that man, I wonder what nickname the apostles would give me?  Whiny Winnie?  Gossip Gail?  My-Way Marian?  Grumpy Gert?  Cold-hearted Catherine?  Hotheaded Harriet?   Wondering about that will give your character a real shot in the arm.  I’d much rather have something like Generous Joyce or Compassionate Kate. 
            Your assignment for today?  Try to figure out what they would call you.  Be honest.  You can always change that name, just by changing yourself.


A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favor rather than silver and gold,  Prov 22:1.



Dene Ward

If there is one thing I have never understood about grudge-holders, it is how they can think they have a monopoly on being hurt or injured.  These are the folks that, though they profess forgiveness, and years later are acting kindly toward their victims—at least in public--can at a moment’s notice give a laundry list of every bad deed that person has done to them.  And they will, any time you want to hear it.  In fact, they will happily do so before you even ask. 
         But somehow they think they are perfect.  They have never done anything hurtful to anyone, and would be horrified if you started making your own laundry list against them!  They must think that, or surely they would be more merciful, wouldn’t they?
            You see, grudge-holding is the worst kind of self-centeredness.  It says, “My hurts count more than yours.”  It infers, “I have never done anything as bad as this to you.”  And then it rationalizes, “What you did to me is so bad, it does not have to be forgiven.”
            If you said that to a grudge-holder, he would be horrified, especially if he claimed to be a Christian.  Unfortunately, that is another aspect of this sin—it keeps you from seeing yourself as you really are.  We become so blinded by our “injured innocence” that we cannot see the truth--no one is innocent; we all mess up once in awhile.  It is bad when this sort of selfishness causes animosity between neighbors, sad when it causes rifts in families, and tragic when it causes a lack of unity in the family of God. 
            Jesus said I cannot be forgiven if I don’t forgive.  Forgiveness means I don’t spread it around, I don’t let fester in my mind, I don’t bring it up again at any opportunity, ever.  Forgiveness means I understand that I have done my fair share of hurts to others, whether intentional or not, and since I hope they will not hold them against me, I certainly won’t hold things against them.  That is exactly what Peter meant when he said, Love covers a multitude of sins, 1 Peter 4:8.  I think Peter uses that word “sin” in an ironic way.  We cannot cover real sins against God, and are not supposed to, but in our self-centeredness, we place what amounts to minimal slights in the same category as real sin.  And Peter also makes it plain that no matter what I say about the matter, if I do not forgive and I show that lack of mercy by my constant grudge-holding, I do not love.
Forgiveness means having enough humility to recognize that no one has done to me anything remotely similar to what I have done to the Lord.  Holding grudges means the opposite—I have made my feelings just as important as Christ’s, therefore I am just as important as He is—just as important as God. 
            Didn’t they used to stone people for that?


(The money figures in the following passage come from Lenski’s commentary on Matthew.  Any math errors are mine.)
Therefore is the kingdom of heaven like a certain king who made a reckoning of his servants…One was brought to him that owed him [about 60,000,000 days’ pay]....The servant therefore fell down and said, Lord have patience with me and I will pay all.  And the lord of that servant, being moved with compassion, released him and forgave him the debt.  But the servant went out and found one of his fellow servants who owed him [about 100 days’ pay]...and said, Pay what you owe…Then the Lord called unto him and said, You wicked servant, I forgave you all your debt…Should you not have had mercy on your fellow servant as I had mercy on you?  And the lord was wroth and delivered him to the tormentors…So shall also my heavenly Father do unto you if you forgive not your brother from the heart.  Matt 18:21-35

 
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
 

On June 6, 1933, Richard Hollingshead opened the first drive-in theater.  Camden, New Jersey, was its home and the price was twenty-five cents per car per person.  That night the movie was "Wives Beware."
I remember those theaters well.  Across the river from our small town, an only slightly larger town boasted one that offered a double feature for $1 a carload.   It was thirty years later so naturally the price had risen, but still, what a deal!
            Our family usually arrived about fifteen minutes early to procure the best spot.  If you were too close all we kids in the backseat could see were headless actors.  But you certainly didn’t want to end up on the back row or next to the concession stand amid all sorts of distractions.
            Once you found a decent spot, you checked the speaker before anything else.  If it didn’t work, and some did not, you went on the hunt again.  Once the speaker situation was in order you spent a few minutes edging up and down the hump to raise the front half of the car to just the right angle so the line of sight worked for everyone.  (That first New Jersey drive-in did not have the hump.  I am not sure how anyone actually saw the movie.)  Then you had to deal with obstructions.  Our rearview mirror could be turned completely vertical, but other cars had one you could fold flat against the ceiling.  Headrests on the front seat would have been a catastrophe, but no one had them back then so we avoided that problem altogether.
            Now that set-up was complete, we rolled down the windows so we could get any breeze possible in the warm humid night air.  Along with the chirping crickets, the croaking frogs, and the traffic passing on the street behind the screen, we also had to put up with buzzing mosquitoes.  My mother usually laid a pyrethrum mosquito coil on the dashboard and lit it, the smoke rising and circulating through the car all during the movies, the coil only half burned when the second “THE END” rolled down the screen.
            At that price we never saw first run movies.  Usually they were westerns with John Wayne or Glenn Ford or Jimmy Stewart, or romantic comedies with Rock Hudson and Doris Day.  Occasionally we got an old Biblical epic like David and Bathsheba or Sodom and Gomorrah, both about as scripturally accurate as those westerns were historically accurate, which is to say, not very.  The only Disney we got was Tron, but that was back when it was a bomb not a cult classic.  Still, we enjoyed our family outing every other month or so.
            And we got one thing that I am positive no one born after 1970 ever got.  When the screen finally lit up about ten minutes before the movie started, after the Coming Attractions and ads for the snacks at the concession stand—and oh, could we smell that popcorn and butter all night long—was the following ad, complete with voiceover in case you missed the point.  “CH__ CH.  What’s missing?  U R.  Join the church of your choice and attend this Sunday.”  And that was not an ad from any of the local denominations—it was a public service announcement!
            But this is what we all did—instead of being grateful that anything like that would even be put out for the general public, we fussed about its inaccuracy.  We were bad, as my Daddy would say, about living in the objective case.  When that’s all you see, you miss some prime teaching opportunities.
            So let’s get this out of the way first.  It isn’t our choice, it’s God’s.  It is, more to the point since he built it and died for it, the Lord’s church.  We should be looking not for a church that teaches what we like to hear, but what he taught, obeying his commands, not our preferences.  And you don’t “join” it.  The Lord is the one who adds to the church, the church in the kingdom sense, which is the only word used in the New Testament for what we in our “greater” wisdom call the “universal” sense.  But that’s where we miss the teaching opportunity because for some reason we ignore this verse:
            And when [Saul] was come to Jerusalem, he assayed to join himself to the disciples: and they were all afraid of him, not believing that he was a disciple, Acts 9:26.
            Did you see that?  Immediately after his conversion, Saul tried to join a local group, what we insist on calling “placing membership” in spite of that phrase never appearing anywhere in the text.  (For people who claim to “use Bible words for Bible things” we are certainly inconsistent.)  The New Testament example over and over is to be a part of a local group of believers—not to think you can be a Christian independent of any local congregation or simply float from group to group. 
            Why do people do that?  Because joining oneself to a group involves accountability to that group, and especially to the leadership of that group.  It involves serving other Christians.  It involves growing in knowledge.  It means I must arrange my schedule around their meetings rather than my worldly priorities.  The New Testament is clear that some things cannot be done outside the assembly.  I Cor 5:4,5; 1 Cor 11 and 16, along with Acts 20 are the obvious ones.  That doesn’t count the times they all came together to receive reports, e.g. Acts 14:27, and plain statements like “the elders among you” which logically infers a group that met together.  Then there are all those “one another” passages that I cannot do if there is no “one another” for me to do them with.
            We are called the flock of God in several passages.  You may find a lone wolf out in the wild once in awhile, but you will never find a lone sheep that isn’t alone because he is anything but lost.  It is my responsibility to be part of a group of believers.  We encourage one another, we help one another, we serve another.  Our pooling our assets means we can evangelize the city we live in, the country we live in, even the world.  It means we can help those among us who are needy.  It means we can purchase and make use of tools that we could not otherwise afford.  It means we can pool talents and actually have enough members available for teaching classes without experiencing burn-out.  It means we are far more likely to find men qualified to tend “the flock of God among them.”
            So while God may add me to the kingdom when I submit to His will in baptism, it is my duty to find a group of like-minded brothers and sisters and serve along side them.  Serve—not be served.  Saul had a hard time “joining himself” to the church in Jerusalem because of his past, but Barnabas knew it was the right thing for him to do and paved the way.     
            CH__CH.  What’s missing?  Is it you?
           
Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all, 1 Thes 5:11-14
 
Dene Ward
 

We traded cars not long ago.  This one has a few new gadgets on it. You can raise and lower the driver’s seat, as well as pull it forward or push it back.  You can position the steering column up or down, in or out.  Unfortunately I had not yet learned how to do that the first time I climbed in to drive when Keith was at work.
            Instead of sliding onto the seat, I fell into a hole.  If the seat was not actually sitting on the floorboards of the car, it was close.  As I tried to slide my legs under the steering wheel, I realized that it was practically resting on the seat.  I sat for a minute fumbling around, and never found the right button, knob, or lever to fix anything.  Needless to say, my driving experience that day was far from relaxing.  Every time I got in, I fell in, squeezed under the steering wheel, and then spent the entire drive doing pull-ups on it so I could see where I was going.
            All of that is because Keith is nearly six inches taller than I, and apparently his favored driving position is sitting on the floor with his knees up around his ears.  That is why they make those seats movable—no two people are the same size and shape, and we all have our own definitions of comfort.
            We tend to forget that with one another in the church.  Depending upon when we first came into contact with the gospel, and the background we brought to the baptistery, we are all in different places in our faith and understanding.  While the New Testament strongly hints that God has put a timetable on our learning (“when by reason of time you ought to be teachers”), it may not be my place to judge your progress.  True, if one has been a Christian forty years and still craves the milk of the word rather than the meat, there just might be a problem, but most of my impatience with my brothers and sisters has little to do with circumstances so obvious.
            The job of the priest under the old law was to bear gently with the ignorant and erring for he himself also is compassed with infirmity, Heb 5:2.  Aren’t we all called priests of God under the new law, (1 Pet 2:5)?  And Paul says to the weak I became as weak so that I might gain the weak, 1 Cor 9:22.  He did not look down his nose at one who did not yet have his knowledge and comprehension of the plan of God through the ages. 
            When the church is growing spiritually and has reached a point that change in its traditions becomes expedient for the progress of the gospel, some people have problems with it.  They are stuck in a place where traditions in their minds have become laws.  It becomes more difficult for them to change those things.  Are we patient in our teaching?   Do we make ourselves “weak” by understanding how difficult this is for them, and so guide them along with compassion? 
            Mind you, we are not talking about changing the rules of the road or even how a car operates.  You must still drive on the “right” side of the road.  You still have to press the accelerator to go and the brake to stop, but some of us shift gears smoothly and automatically, while others need to do it manually, slowly and methodically, one gear at a time. 
            I usually see all those cars that impatiently pass me a little further down the road.  Sometimes they sit on the shoulder with another car behind them, flashing its blue lights. Other times I quietly pull along side of them at the next stoplight as we both obey the law, idling in our separate lanes.  So he got there ten seconds ahead of me—big deal. We both followed the rules and ended up in the same place.
            We must patiently show one another how to move the car seat so we can all more easily see down the road, so none of us is left sitting in a hole, awkwardly doing pull-ups on the steering wheel, trying to see where he is going.
 
We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves.  Let each of us please his neighbor for his good, to build him up.  For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, the reproaches of those who reproached you have fallen on me, Rom 15:1-3
 
Dene Ward

…Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's” Matt 22:21.
 
            I suppose nothing rankles so much as giving your hard-earned money to a government whose policies you disagree with, who often use that money for things you disapprove of as a Christian.  Guess what?  We are not the first to feel that way, and our government doesn’t come close to the one that governed the people Jesus and the apostles plainly told to pay.  Our government does not yet imprison us for our faith, nor does it throw us to the lions, crucify us, or burn us alive in an arena paid for by tax dollars.
            Paul makes it crystal clear when he says, For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God, attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed…Rom 13:6,7.  Some of those very people wound up paying for their own executions, so I doubt we have much excuse in not paying our taxes.
            This is what we miss when we start all the complaining.  In the very same passage Paul says, Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God…Therefore one must be in subjection, not only to avoid God's wrath but also for the sake of conscience, vv 1,5. 
            You would think that God’s wrath would have been reserved for that government that persecuted His people, but no, in this case, His wrath is on those who do not pay because He ordained that government.  Not to obey that earthly authority is to disobey His heavenly authority.  Paul even adds at the end of verse 7, [Pay] respect to whom respect is owed and honor to whom honor is owed.  That does not mean only those who deserve that respect and honor as individuals, it means those who are in a position of authority.  That position deserves the respect and honor no matter who fills it, because God put him there. 
            Peter says much the same thing:  Be subject for the Lord's sake to every human institution, whether it be to the emperor as supreme, or to governors as sent by him to punish those who do evil and to praise those who do good, 1 Pet 2:13,14.  We obey “for the Lord’s sake.”  So what would that make any civil disobedience on our part?  A slap in the face of God, that’s what.
            This is a lot more important than we like to think.  Subjection is the mark of a Christian.  Every one of us is subject to everyone else, and we all are in subjection in other areas of life.  Peter says that is why our subjection to the government is so important. For this is the will of God, that by doing good you should put to silence the ignorance of foolish people. Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor, vv15-17.  When we act in any other way, when we disobey the laws of the land, when we cheat on our taxes, we are causing the world to laugh at the very notion of our subjection as servants to God, invalidating our faith as surely as if we had stood up and denied the Lord in front of them.
            Yes, it’s that time of year.  Maybe instead of complaining, we should thank God that we have a government that, though it certainly isn’t honoring God, isn’t murdering His children.  At least not yet.
 
…You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people, Acts 23:5.
 
Dene Ward

  May 8 is National Coconut Cream Pie Day.  You may wonder what this has to do with a history post.  Well, in 1895, a French-owned company in what was then called Ceylon, off the southeastern tip of India, began shredding and drying coconut meat for easier shipping.  That same year in Philadelphia, a miller received a huge shipment of whole coconuts from a businessman in Cuba as partial payment for a substantial debt.  The miller began shredding and drying the coconut meat and Americans, at least in that city, finally had easy access to a tropical treat most would ordinarily never taste.  Did either of these coconut processes occur on May 8?  No one really knows the significance of May 8.  But for this post, National Coconut Cream Pie Day is our focus.
           Many years ago we were in a discussion with a group of Christians about the word “temptation” when Keith mentioned that “tempt” by its very definition means a possibility of and a desire to give in to that temptation.  No one wanted to accept that statement, probably because we all want to believe that we don’t want to sin.  We happened to know a certain brother’s dessert preferences because we had often eaten with that couple, and suddenly the solution came to me.
            “Bill cannot be tempted off his diet by a coconut cream pie,” I said.  “He cannot be tempted that way because he hates coconut.  Maybe chocolate, but not coconut.”  Click!  The light bulb went on for practically everyone.  Suddenly they understood what it meant to be tempted. 
            That understanding can lead to all sorts of discussions and get you into some deep water, but consider this one thing with me this morning.  I was “raised in the church,” as we often put it.  I had parents who taught me right from wrong in no uncertain terms.  Frankly, I have never even been tempted by most of the “moral” sins out there in the world.  I know a lot of others in the same situation.  But that doesn’t make us any better than someone who has just recently given his life to the Lord.  I am afraid that sometimes we think it does make us better.  When a young Christian tells me that older Christians look down on him when he says he still struggles with sin, I know we think so.
            Yet how does the fact that you have never struggled with a certain sin make you stronger than one who does?  In fact, since you have never struggled with it, how do you know you could win the fight at all?  There may be other temptations that cause us to fall, and not needing to fight one doesn’t mean we would be any better at fighting others.
            It only shows how weak we are when we pride ourselves on the fact that we have never been tempted in certain areas.  Ironically, that very feeling is our weakness, the thing that tempts us, and the thing in which we usually fail--pride, self-righteousness, unjust judgment, and a failure to love as we ought.
            What is your coconut cream pie?  What distaste keeps you from even being tempted in one area, and as a result, makes you fail the test of humility?  I might have to have a piece of pie while I think about it.
 
 And he spoke also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at nought: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.  The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank you, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be merciful to me a sinner. I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one that exalts himself shall be humbled; but he that humbles himself shall be exalted, Luke 18:9-14.   
 
Dene Ward

I sat on the carport today since the spring breeze is still cool, and relatively dry.  I was working on Proverbs with my trusty bodyguards lying at my feet, tails occasionally swishing sand across the concrete.  When we first moved here, thirty-six years ago now, it was the quietest place we had ever lived.  No neighbors revving up engines of various kinds, no traffic on the highway, certainly no sirens wailing in the air.  In the past two or three weeks alone, I have heard sirens three times, which is about as many times as I heard them the whole 36 years before.  People are moving here to have what we have, and in the process, destroying it.
            But that morning I was suddenly struck by how quiet it was—not exactly like all those years ago, but close.  I sat still and really listened; half a dozen different birds sounds, chirps, tweets, squawks, caws, shrieks, and crows; wings flapping in the oaks; a June bug buzzing over our heads in the sycamore,  two planes droning overhead, one a jet and the other a single-engine prop; hummingbirds humming and squeaking at the feeder; a semi roaring faintly down the highway to the west beyond the woods, hitting the speed bumps a good half mile away with a rhythmic brrrrump—brrrrump--brump, brump, brump. 
            Even the dogs seemed to realize how quiet things were, and they sat there with me, watching and listening.  Amazing things happen when you sit quietly and just listen.  A limb, evidently weakened by age and a recent wind, suddenly cracked and fell with a thump just up the driveway; a little flock of sparrows landed barely two feet off the concrete slab, hopping around on the ground as if totally unaware that a human and two dogs sat nearby; a pileated woodpecker suddenly swooped down across the drive and landed on the water oak trunk and began pecking for his lunch; a lizard crept out onto the steps and puffed out his red balloon of a throat when he suddenly realized we were there; and a black and yellow swallowtail butterfly landed on an azalea limb close enough for me to see its spots.
            I have heard that Abraham Lincoln was fond of saying, “Better to be quiet and thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.”  I didn’t realize that he was paraphrasing one of the proverbs:  Even a fool when he holds his peace is counted as wise; when he shuts his lips, he is esteemed as prudent, 17:28.  I suppose Lincoln’s version was a bit more colorful, but you get the point.  Amazing things can happen when you keep your mouth shut.  People may actually think you are wise!
            Someone else has also noted that when your mouth is open, your ears stop working, which is just a cute way of saying that when you are talking you can’t listen, and most of us need to do much more listening than talking.  I would guess that the majority of times we find ourselves in hot water it is because we talked when we should have been quiet.  Is there a problem in the home?  At work?  With a neighbor?  Look back in your mind and ‘listen’ to what happened.  Amazing things can happen when you listen.   You will probably see that it all began with a word NOT fitly spoken.  As James said:  Let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak and slow to wrath, for the wrath of man does not work the righteousness of God, 1:19,20.
            Listening is also a good way to serve others.  Don’t be so quick to give advice unless it is specifically asked for.  Don’t be so quick to take over the conversation with how you handled something similar.  Amazing things can happen when you listen.  By having a sympathetic listener, many people can figure their way out of problems on their own, and they will be so grateful for your “help.” 
            Ahem, men—she doesn’t want you to fix it, she just wants you to listen.  You will become her hero.  Truly amazing things can happen if you just listen.
            And always listen to God.  Too many times we are explaining ourselves to him instead.  Imagine that.  This is God we are talking about and we feel the need to explain something to him?  Listen instead.  Maybe the problem is we don’t want to hear what he has to say to us.  So if you do answer back, listen to that too.  You might realize your error and repent.  
            Amazing things can happen when you sit quietly and listen.
 
And Moses said, the Lord God will raise up for you a prophet like me from your brothers.  You shall listen to him in whatever he tells you.  And it shall be that every soul who does not listen to that prophet shall be destroyed from the people, Acts 3:22,23.
 
Dene Ward