When we first moved here, nearly 32 years ago, I knew I wanted azaleas around the house.  And I wanted as many different colors as possible--none of this all white or all purple or all pink business.  We planted about two dozen and once they started blooming, I discovered why some people stick with one type and color—they all bloom at once that way.  You don’t have spots of color here and there, with blank, green places in the middle of the row.  So I have learned to live with those spaces, and to accept that some will bloom before others—first the white and the coral pink, followed by the lilac and pale pink, then the red and purple, and finally the bubble gum pinks, the two that frame the front door.  I was a little disappointed at first, but it no longer bothers me.  This is just the way it is when you have different varieties of azalea.

            That’s the way it is when you have different people in the body of Christ as well.  None of us are at exactly the same stages in our growth.  Sometimes it is because we are just starting and have little or no background in the scriptures.  Sometimes it is because we have brought a lot of mistaken beliefs to the table that we have to overcome.  And some of us are just a little slower than others to grasp new ideas, either from lack of comprehension or cautious skepticism.

            God never expected us all to be in the same place at the same time.  He spent quite a few chapters in the New Testament epistles telling us to respect one another regardless.  Jesus told a whole parable about accepting the late-comers without resentment.  After all, who is accepted is God’s business not ours. 

            Some of us seem to have a problem with this.  I have heard far too many comments about “them” lately, referring to the ones we see as holding us back.  It usually comes in a tone of disdain, while making of ourselves some elite spiritually mature group that ought to be looked up to and heeded automatically.  After all, look how much more knowledgeable we are.  The epistles talk a lot about that attitude too.  Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant, (1 Cor 13:4), comes quickly to mind.  We all know the word “longsuffering,” but we seem to ignore the “long” and home in on the “suffering,” which we don’t think we have to do for “them”--and which, of course, no one ever has to do for us.  After all, “they” are the ones holding back the progress of the gospel, while "we" are God's gift to the church.

            Truth to be told, when stubborn self-will enters the picture, that may be the case.  In that instance, the wisdom of the elders decides when it is time to move on, even if some get left behind—or in fact, leave.  That is why we have those men—to be strong enough to make those unpopular decisions and wise enough to know when to. 

            Far more often, God expects us to “wait for one another” in all its various applications.  He expects us not to “set at nought” the one who just can’t quite get it yet.  Check your other translations of Rom 14:3.  That phrase means to despise, to disrespect, and to count as nothing.  It means we think his opinion is worthless.  The words may not have been used, but the contempt in them says exactly the same thing.

            God would certainly expect better of those who are supposedly so much more advanced.  Of all people, they should be tolerant with the many varieties of azalea among us.  We all bloom in our own time.  We are all beautiful to God, if not to each other.  As long as everyone is striving to grow and serve the Lord to the best of their abilities, we are all equal in God’s eyes, and certainly should be to one another.
 
Who are you to pass judgment on the servant of another? It is before his own master that he stands or falls. And he will be upheld, for the Lord is able to make him stand...Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written, "As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God." So then each of us will give an account of himself to God, Rom 14:4,10-12.
 
Dene Ward

We had been unhappy with our griddle for a good while, so Keith went online shopping and found an appliance called a Griddler, put out by Cuisinart.  This little contraption with two heating elements that can either lie flat next to each other or fold over on each other, and with four interchangeable plates, two of which are double-sided, can be a panini press, a grill pan, a waffle iron, or it can be opened flat and used as a griddle.

              It does have a few disadvantages.  Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem.  It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too.  However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster. 

              The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick.  Boy, are they nonstick.  You want to know how I found out?

              When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all.  Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run.  But eggs are another thing entirely.  Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up.  It looks close enough that I did not realize that.

              One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner.  I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface.  Then I poured on the raw eggs. 

              Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan.  Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet.  I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough.  All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again.  I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.

              Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible.  At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan.  Keith came running and saw what was happening.  He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor.  That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there.  I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not.  Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor.  He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam.  Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.

              We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened.  The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.

              Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."

              Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."

              Or, "That's your job not mine."

              Or, "Someone else will take care of it."

              Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.

           We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.

           Too bad that's what happens in the church too often.  And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)
 
Dene Ward

I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. Phil 4:11
 
            As many times as I have read that verse it has only been recently that I noticed something about it.  Some people seem content whereas others are never satisfied, always ambitious, trying to fly higher, live higher, and be higher than they are at any given moment.  It’s just a basic personality difference, right?  No, Paul says that contentment is something you learn.
 
           Paul was certainly on the fast track that day as he walked toward Damascus.  He had had a prestigious education and was highly esteemed by the Jewish leadership even as a young man.  He almost certainly would have wound up on the Sanhedrin and lived life in at least the upper middle classes if not the aristocratic upper class.  And he gave it all up.  But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, Phil 3:7-9.
 
           So how did he learn to be content with less money, less comfort, less esteem, less of just about everything than he had planned and expected out of life?  He tells us himself.
 
           Paul rejoiced, not in fame and fortune, but in the Lord (3:7; 4:4).  He found happiness in his relationship with God and Christ, and with the knowledge of his salvation.  That is also why he considered dying to be “gain” (1:21).  Is there anything that should cause us more joy than knowing we will live with our God for eternity?  And being happy is perhaps the greatest key to contentment.
 
           He used the avenue of prayer (4:6,7).  That prayer gave him peace of mind because he was no longer anxious.  He had turned everything over to God and trusted him to provide.  It is easier to be content when you know someone else is in control.
 
           He was careful what he thought about (4:8).  I learned a long time ago to avoid looking at house plans and stop walking through model homes.  I never window shop for things I cannot afford anyway.  I never indulge in “What if I won a million dollars?” daydreams.  Those things don’t bother some people, but they are exactly the kinds of things that make me discontent.  As long as I avoid doing those things I am perfectly happy with my life.  What kinds of things do you need to avoid thinking about?   Fill your mind instead with Paul’s list:  whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
 
           Paul learned the lessons that life had to teach him (4:12).  Too many times we go through situations and events, completely missing the abundance of wisdom we could be learning and stowing away for the future.  We may be going through a particular trial for exactly that reason—God wants us to learn something.  Maybe it’s learning the relative importance of things.  Maybe it’s how to handle a problem so we can help others later on who have the same trial.  Pay attention to what’s happening and use it to grow, not to fail the test of faith.  When you know there’s a reason, even if you cannot figure out exactly what it is, it is much easier to be content.

            Paul also took advantage of the help he was given, not just any help, but Divine help.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me, (4:13).  With that kind of help you can learn to handle anything, or don’t you believe Christ is more powerful than the devil?  It’s one or the other.

            Paul tells us that we can learn the same contentment he had.  What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me--practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you, (4:9).  He says you can do it.  He says I can do it.  We can all learn to be content no matter what life throws at us, and in that learning, gain the peace that only the God of peace can give.
 
Now there is great gain in godliness with contentment, for we brought nothing into the world, and we cannot take anything out of the world. But if we have food and clothing, with these we will be content, 1 Tim 6:6-8.
 
Dene Ward

Shortly after we married, my new husband informed me that to be a real Ward I needed to learn to play pinochle.  Pinochle marathons were standard family entertainment throughout the whole clan.  So he patiently taught me one of the most confusing games I ever learned how to play.

            First, you only played with part of the deck—nothing below tens.  Second, the ten was higher than the king.  What?  Who ever heard of such a thing?  Plus, you played with two sets of each suit, not one.  And that was just the beginning.

            There were two point systems you had to learn, how to count meld and how to count the playoff.  A jack in every suit was worth 4 points in the meld, but if you wound up with all of them after the playoff they were worth nothing.  Two kings in every suit were worth 80 points meld, but was not a particularly good thing to have in your hand.  You wound up giving about half of them to the other team—four points lost in the playoff.  A “pinochle,” from which the game gets its name, is a queen of spades with a jack of diamonds.  If you have one, it’s worth 4 meld points.  A double pinochle is worth, not 8, but 30 points, far more than triple the single.  Yet a triple pinochle is worth 90, exactly triple the double.  And in the playoff?  All three are worth nothing!

            And the bidding!  Figuring out how high to bid, especially when your partner was bidding too, was nerve wracking.  You practically had to learn a secret language.  Standard opening bid was 50.  If you were the one who opened and you said 55, it meant you had 50 meld points and you did NOT want to call trump.  If you had an ace in every suit plus another 20 points meld, you said “3,” which really meant “53,” unless someone bid before you, in which case you added three to his bid and left off the “fifty.”  Once you passed 60, you had to increase your bid by fives.

            And then there was the trump suit, which only the winning bidder could call, and he usually called his strongest suit, which was often his longest suit too, but not necessarily, because you could only count the meld points for a run in the trump suit, and if your meld was low, that was more important than how many were in the suit. 

            Here is the important thing about trumps:  a trump card, even just a jack, beat anything else in the other suits, including aces.

            Sometimes Christians stoop to playing what they believe is the trump card.  “That offends me,” has become the sure-fire way to get what you want when others want something else.  I wonder if people would do that if they realized what they were saying about themselves.

            First, “offend,” sometimes translated “stumble,” doesn’t mean “I don’t like it,” or, “That hurt my feelings.”  It means “to sin.”  If you are being offended, you are sinning.  That’s what the Greek word means, and that is why Jesus said if your hand “offends” you it would be better to cut it off than to go into hell with both hands.  You are much better off without anything that causes you to sin.  So if you are going to use “the trump card” you must admit that you are actively sinning about the issue under discussion.

            Second, the strong must always yield to the weak, so if you expect everyone to yield to you, then you must admit that you are the weaker, less knowledgeable brother.  I have yet to see any of my troublemaking brethren admit any such thing.  God was eminently wise (are we surprised?) to put it exactly that way—the strong must always yield to the weak.  Who is going to stand up and say, “I am weak and ignorant?”  No, everyone will want to be the wise one, whether he is or not, and thus everyone will be yielding to everyone else--at least that is the way it is supposed to work.

            So the next time you get your ego out of joint, or your feelings hurt, or you find yourself wanting things done your way and only your way because, after all, you are smarter than everyone else, remember those two things.  “That offends me” may be a trump card, but you only get to play that card if you admit that you are sinning and that you are weak and ignorant of the scriptures.  Any takers?
 
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 fell on me." Rom 15:1-3
 
Dene Ward

Magdi has been gone 10 months.  She was definitely the dominant dog.  She made sure Chloe knew it with a couple of painful lessons.  Once that was established they got along fine.  Sometimes Magdi snapped impatiently, but most of the time they played well together.  Though Magdi would have been loathe to admit it, Chloe kept her active longer as the arthritis set into her hips in her last two years.  She couldn’t have that little whippersnapper outdoing her.

            But we have seen the effects of Magdi’s domination since she died.  When people come to visit, Chloe hides.  Even from children, Chloe hides.  If we happen to be swatting at a fly, she runs for cover.  She will sit next to us for only a brief amount of time, then she is off to herself somewhere across the yard because that was always Magdi’s spot.  In spite of our diligent efforts to treat them the same, Magdi definitely taught Chloe her place.

            We thought about another companion for Chloe, but decided it was not a good idea.  She would immediately become submissive again because that is all she knows.  She needed time to become “her own dog,” and to know that this was her territory to defend.

            Things are coming along, but slowly.  She has started digging up moles in the yard.  She did this before, but Magdi always took them away from her.  When she dug up the first one after Magdi died, she left it for her.  Now she knows it’s hers to do with as she pleases.  This year the moles have made our yard look like a topographical map, so we are happy to let her do it, even if it means we need to fill in the holes, and we encourage her every time we come across a tunnel. 

            The neighbor walked his dogs the other day-- two huge Great Danes loping along the fence line like a couple of horses.  Chloe wouldn’t go to the fence to challenge them as she used to do with Magdi, but instead of hiding under the porch as she has since Magdi died, she sat out on a raised mound and actually barked at them.  Last week some repairmen came.  She went out to the road and barked at the truck!  The next day when guests came, she hid under the porch again.  Oh well, progress is often measured in inches instead of miles.

            This morning she walked up to the gate with me.  There on the other side was another dog sniffing the ground as dogs do, checking to see who had been around lately and whether this was a place he could claim as his own.  I stopped to see what would happen.  Instantly Chloe’s ears popped up.  She straightened her stance and her tail stood at attention.  A low growl began to erupt from deep within her chest, and before I realized what was happening, she spun out, charging the gate with a ferocious bark.  That other dog took one look and hightailed it back up the road to his own place, the place Chloe had just put him in with her vigorous defense of her people and her property.

            No, it doesn’t mean that things are suddenly right.  She still has a long way to go, but she is doing better.  We showed her that it was her job, and she has stepped up to the plate, at least once in awhile.  There may be things she can never do as well as Magdi did, but there are things she can do even better—like hear the moles in the ground and dig them up. 

            Haven’t you known a young man who had to follow in the footsteps of a dominant father, one who accomplished much and had many admirers, a young man who thought he could never do the same, and so quit trying?  It’s our fault when that happens.  We expected him to be his father instead of being who he was.  It may very well be that the man he is can do other things equally well, or better, but our expectations have kept him from even discovering those things. 

            And so in the family of God, as each generation comes along, it is our duty to teach them “the ropes.” Excuse my mixed metaphors, but it is also our duty to step out of the way and pass the torch.  No, we don’t put old men out to pasture.  If they can still teach or sing or preach or pray, then they need to do that.  They have an obligation to God to do that as long as they are able.  But we must also allow the next generation time to grow, time to make a few mistakes and learn from them, time to become their own men in the Lord.

            “Passing the torch” takes humility.  You know you are better so you keep it and run another mile.  Meanwhile, that young man, the one with fresher legs, gets no experience, no on-the-job training, and no encouragement.  Then, when the old men are gone, he can do nothing.  Or perhaps worse, he believes that the things he can do don’t count for anything.  Where is the wisdom in that?

            Being a young, or inexperienced man takes humility too.  Those men before you know what they are talking about when they give you advice.  Listen to them.  You will not match their prowess at the beginning, but with their help and God’s help and your own hard work, you can be every bit the men of God they are.  And by the way, the same goes for the women in the church too.
 
I am writing to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I am writing to you, young men, because you have overcome the evil one…I write to you, fathers, because you know him who is from the beginning. I write to you, young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the evil one, 1 John 2:13-14.
 
Dene Ward

I know—if you are not a musician you don’t know what I am talking about, but it really is 101—basic and easy.

            “Diatonic” means “two tones.”  A diatonic scale is made up of two kinds of tones—whole tones and semitones, or more commonly, whole steps and half steps.  As Occidentals, the diatonic scale is the most pleasing tone to our ear.  Try using a scale of only whole steps and it will set your teeth on edge.  My students used to call it “outer space music.”  Try making music with a half step scale and it will sound like you’ve let a hive of bumblebees loose in the room.  The point is, it takes two kinds of steps to make pleasant music.

            As humans we have a tendency to see “two kinds” in practically every situation and to do our best to make it NOT work.  In the early church when everyone was Jewish, they still managed to make a distinction between Jews born in Palestine and those born elsewhere (Acts 6).  Once Gentiles were converted, the distinction was circumcision (Acts 15).  If that weren’t enough, the bias became wealth (James 2), and then the full blown heresy of Gnosticism (1 John)—those who “knew” things others did not.

            “You’re not like us so you don’t belong,” was the attitude.  “Change or leave,” was often unspoken but surely intended, and if change was not possible, then leaving was the obvious “choice.”

            Paul spent several chapters in several epistles reminding us that while we are to repent (change) from a life of sin, no other change was required.  In fact, our differences make us a stronger, better body.

            But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you."…But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 1 Cor 12:18-21,24,25.

            What I cannot do, maybe you can.  What you can’t, maybe I or someone else can.  Every ability is important and thus every person.  In fact, we have a tendency to judge differently than God does in that area.  As we have noted before, it was a woman who sewed for the poor whom Peter raised from the dead (Act 9), not the martyred preacher deacon (Acts 7) or apostle and cousin of the Lord (Acts 12).

            God expects us to live together, love together, and work together in harmony.  Rich and poor, Jew and Gentile, black and white, we are to make beautiful diatonic music together, not segregate ourselves into uniform groups that can only make weird sounds, sounds only fit for aliens, and not for the friends and neighbors we hope to save.
 
For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. 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, Gal 3:27,28.
 
Dene Ward

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

We visited our son a couple of months ago—the bachelor son.  He always spends nearly a full day cleaning before we arrive.  I know it’s true—you can smell the pines, the lemons, and the bleach when you walk in the door.  The vacuum, the broom, and the mop are usually still standing in the corner.  The bed is made with fresh, crisp sheets and his best towels hang in the bathroom.  He has obviously worked hard.

              But he is a man.  Some things he just doesn’t see or even think to look for.  I was loading the dishwasher one morning and after rinsing a plate my eyes fell on the window sill.  A layer of dust coated it, which, being in the kitchen where cooking grease rises in the steam and settles with an adhesive and almost audible thump, couldn’t just be quickly wiped away. 

              That evening when I stepped out of the shower, I saw the top of the baseboards.  And that’s when it hit me.  What about my baseboards?  What about my kitchen window sill?  When was the last time I cleaned them?  When was the last time I even thought to look and see if they needed cleaning?

              It’s so much easier to see someone else’s dirt—and that goes for spiritual dirt too.  Why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye but don’t notice the log in your own eye?  Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ and look, there’s a log in your eye?  Hypocrite! First take the log out of your eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye,  Matt 7:3-5.  Jesus warns us about judging others more harshly than ourselves, about expecting perfection from others who might actually be closer to it than we are.  My son’s apartment was a lot cleaner than the house I left behind at that point.

              It takes a practiced eye to see the dirt.  I still remember the day I really learned to wipe off the dinner table.  I thought I’d done exactly that, but my mother called me back.  Indeed I had gotten every crumb and obvious spill but she showed me how to lean so that the overhead light shone on the table.  I had wiped, but had only smeared butter, gravy, and other assorted foodstuffs.  First you wipe up the crumbs and spills, then you rinse your cloth and actually clean the table.

              Experienced housekeepers know that kitchen surfaces collect greasy dirt and that any flat surface—even narrow little baseboards—collect dust.  They know ceilings “grow” cobwebs and shower doors amass soap scum.  They know that wiping off the top of anything isn’t even half the battle.  There are sides, a bottom, and sometimes insides that need our careful attention.

              Maybe it’s time to do a real housecleaning on ourselves.  If you don’t know where to look for dirt, try all those places you find it so easily in others.
             
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence! Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup, so the outside of it may also become clean. Matt 23:25,26.
 
Dene Ward

Not only is a little knowledge a dangerous thing, it can be unscriptural as well.

            Most people miss a command regarding the elders because they speed right past it to what they consider the more important issues, not realizing that all those others would be much easier if they took care of first things first. 

            But we beseech you brethren to know them that labor among you, and are over you in the Lord, and admonish you, and to esteem them exceeding highly in love for their work’s sake. 1 Thes 5:12,13.

            Yes we are to give them honor, esteem, and obedience.  You cannot read the epistles without seeing that.  But Paul first says “to know them.”  That doesn’t mean to just recognize them across the room or be able to point them out to visitors. 

            This is not the usual New Testament word for “know”--ginosko.  If you have done much Bible study at all, or listened to many sermons, that is the word you have probably seen on all those power point displays.  This word is oida.  Let me show you how the Holy Spirit uses it in a couple of other passages.

            ‘You know neither me nor my father.  If you knew me you would have known my father also…but I know him.  If I should say I know him not, I shall be like you, a liar, but I know him and keep his word, John 8:19,55.  Do you realize Jesus is talking to the Jewish religious leaders and telling them they don’t know God?  No, actually he is telling them they don’t know God like he knows God, even though they think they do.  This is a full knowledge borne of a close relationship, not a superficial recognition of who someone is.

            Many will say to me in that day, Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and by your name cast out demons and by your name do many mighty works?  And then will I profess unto them I never knew you; depart from me you who work iniquity, Matt 7:22,23.  Will Jesus not recognize who these people are?  Of course he will, but he will not give them approved acceptance.

            Do you know your elders that well?  Had you worked to develop a close relationship with these men before you chose them to lead you?  Do you know them so well that you are able to approve their knowledge, judgment, and life in general?  Why exactly do you think those qualifications are listed?  Not so we can just check them off as quickly as we read them, but so we can investigate and really know they have been met.

            If you know your elders as the Holy Spirit intended you should by using that particular word, the rest of the commands pertaining to them will come more easily.  You will trust them enough to accept their judgment on things and obey them (Heb 13:17).  You will neither gossip about them, nor listen to it either (1 Tim 5:17-19).  You won’t be speaking to them without the respect due their position (I Thes 5:13).   If you cannot do these things, it is your fault.  You chose these men without really “knowing” them. 

           It isn’t their obligation to invite us over for dinner and be our best buddies.  It is our obligation to find out who they are deep inside, deep enough that we really know what they are all about.  We cannot always be privy to every bit of information they have when they make their decisions.  God never meant us to be.  That is why this knowledge we are supposed to have of them is so important.  It’s what makes our trust and submission possible. 

              Look back at the beginning of this little essay.  “Know them who labor among you.”  This is a command, folks, not just a recommendation.  Just which one of God’s commands do we think we don’t have to obey?

Obey those who have the rule over you and submit to them; for they watch in behalf of your souls, as they that shall give account; that they may do this with joy and not with grief, for that would be unprofitable to you.  Heb 13:17

Every so often after a shirt slips over my head and rests on my shoulders I know instantly that I have put it on backwards.  The neckline chokes me while my upper back feels a draft.  Even a crewneck tee shirt is a bit lower in the front than in the back!

              However, I have a blouse that has inspired even perfect strangers to inform me that I put my shirt on backwards.  The blouse is a deep pink, with an embroidered vine trailing down the right side on the front, studded with shiny silver beads, the flowers themselves a raised pattern of brown felt and the leaves an olive green.  But that same vine also crawls up over my shoulder and falls down the back.  And thus we have the problem.  Most people’s shirts have the design only on one side, while mine is on both.

              I was actually standing at a supermarket deli, waiting for my number to come up when a lady tapped me on the shoulder and whispered conspiratorially in my ear, to save me embarrassment, I suppose, “Honey, you put your shirt on backwards this morning.”  At that I turned around, smiling, and she was suddenly no longer so quiet.  “OH!” she blurted out, and then it was her turn to be embarrassed when she saw that my shirt was on frontwards after all. 

              I had no ill will toward her.  She was only trying to help.  And this morning she is helping us see something very important.  Too often we judge other people’s affairs from our perspective.  Somehow from where we sit, we can figure out all the “right” ways to handle things, the “right” things to say, the “right” things to do.  Too often we are looking at the back of the shirt while judging it to be the front.

              I suppose I had my nose rubbed in that lesson for the first time when I became a young preacher’s wife.  Everyone in the church could tell me exactly what I ought to be doing, what my husband ought to be doing, what my children ought to be doing, what I should and should not spend money on, how many hours my husband should spend in the church office, and whom we should visit.  They could also figure out how much time it took my husband to prepare his sermons and Bible classes. 

            At some point along the years, a brother suggested that Keith should be receiving $800 a week (it was a good while back).  Another man stuttered out, “Wh-wh-why that’s $200 an hour!”  In yet another place a man said that all the visiting requirements of the New Testament should be handled by the preacher “because he has so much time left over”—that’s after those four hours he works on Sundays and Wednesdays, I suppose.

              I really think as a whole the church is much more informed about the work a preacher actually does, the time he must spend studying in order to answer all those “Bible questions” off the top of his head and to preach intelligible lessons, the personal Bible studies he holds as well as the one-on-one counseling sessions with struggling brothers and sisters, and the 24/7 on-call nature of his work.  But until you have actually done the work yourself—or seen your husband or father do it—you don’t really get it.

              And when we see our brothers and sisters struggling, it’s easy to think we know the right things to say to comfort them and the right advice to give.  We are often mistaken.  Until we have experienced something similar we need to be cautious in our words.  Having said that, let me reassure you that truth is still truth whether I have experienced exactly what another has or not, but compassion and empathy can go a long way in helping a hurting soul do the right thing no matter how hard it is to do.  Acting like an unmerciful, self-righteous know-it-all can do far more harm than doing nothing at all.

              Sometimes the shirt is on frontwards after all.
 
Finally, all of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind. (1Pet 3:8)
 
Dene Ward