"The church is full of sinners."
            You might have heard this one yourself, it is so common, both from outsiders and from fallen brothers.  In fact, you might have heard a specific sin listed, usually hypocrisy.  My first reaction to the above statement though is, "Well, duh—."  Just like AA is full of alcoholics, the church is full of sinners.
            Let me say quickly that I have a little beef with that notion myself.  Yes, we have all sinned (Rom 3:23) and we all need saving.  Yes, we are all in the process of reformation.  Just like AA is full of reforming alcoholics who sometimes still slip, so the church is full of reforming sinners who still on occasion slip and fall, sometimes rather ignominiously.  But we should also have a healthy sense of our transformation.  "Such were some of you," Paul says after a particularly heinous list of sins, "but you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified…" (1 Cor 6:11).  He regularly calls us "saints."  So let's quit demeaning ourselves with this humility so-called by beating on our breasts and moaning, "I am such a sinner."  Let's stop giving ourselves an easy excuse.  But that's another lesson for another day.
            To the point being made by this accusation, none of us is perfect, but tell me of a group of any people that is…. I'm waiting…Oh, you can't?  No, you cannot find a perfect group of people anywhere, so is this excuse really valid?  In fact, can I point you to another group you might have expected perfection from and not gotten it? 
            Among the twelve Jesus himself chose we had Peter the Denier, Judas the Thief and Betrayer, Thomas the Doubter, James and John the Sons of Thunder who also had an ambitious streak in them, Matthew the former publican who might still have had an occasional temptation to covet, and Simon the Zealot whose former intimates participated in outright rebellion, including assassinations.  Did any of them leave the Lord because of their fellows' past or current faults or weaknesses?  They understood who they followed and why they followed him, and did not use another's mistakes to try and excuse their own.
            And then, after the Lord set up his kingdom here on earth, the one that was to endure forever (Dan 2:44), suddenly we read of Ananias and Sapphira, liars and cheats.  Divisions arose about bias in the benevolence process.  A large argument that went on for years came between some of the Jewish and Gentile converts, and public squabbles arose between prominent people (Acts 15:36-40; Phil 4:2,3).  And it doesn't end there.  Hymenaeus, Philetus, and Diotrophes don't even round out the ones who caused trouble.  But did Paul use that as an excuse to leave the Lord?  Did Timothy?  Did Barnabas or Titus or John or Jude or—well, you get the point, I am sure. 
            No, the people in the church are not perfect.  That group is made up of flawed people, people who know they need the Lord and the salvation he offers, people who know their weaknesses and battle them constantly, but never give up.  People who would never purposefully leave his kingdom in the hands of the wicked by walking away, disappointed that not everyone is as wonderful as they seem to think they are. As long as there are people who would not know humility if it bit them on the nose, or who cannot take responsibility for their own issues, you will hear this as an excuse for leaving the Lord.  Get used to it.  It may be a sign that you are in the right place after all.
 
For there must be also factions among you, that they that are approved may be made manifest among you (1Cor 11:19).
 
Dene Ward
 

There has always been an "In Crowd".  I'm not sure exactly how it starts but by middle school—junior high in my day—it's in full bloom.  It doesn't stop there.  It continues into adulthood—in colleges, in neighborhoods, in work forces, anywhere people congregate.  Adults, mind you, who are still judging people by the same immature standards they did as children.  If you are different in any way from their "ideal," if you act differently—too quiet or too obvious—if you dress differently, if you are too intelligent or not intelligent enough, if you speak differently, and especially if you look different, if you have a health problem and especially if that problem makes your behavior, speech, or appearance different from others, you are not and never will be part of the In Crowd.  It's just another form of bigotry.
            And here is the saddest truth of all:  it even exists among the Lord's people.  When people began to follow Jesus in earnest, the scribes and Pharisees—the In Crowd of the day—said, "This multitude that does not know the law [like we do] is accursed" John 7:49.  It really had nothing to do with the Law, but everything to do with their view of the Law (traditions) and the power they wanted to wield as the elite.  They had nothing but contempt for the people they were supposed to be leading.
            In their day it was a matter of status and power and wealth.  When Jesus' preaching ripped them to shreds and left the common people feeling the hope and joy of acceptance by God, he was signing his own death warrant.  When he ate with publicans, spoke to and accepted financing from women, taught Samaritans, healed lepers, the epileptic, and the demon-possessed, and forgave the vilest of sinners, he was announcing that he had no use for the superficiality of those who considered themselves God's gift to—well, God Himself.
            And it happens in the church too.  I've seen doctrinal matters decided not by scripture, but by who knows what Big Name Preacher, on which wealthier family believes what, or on who liked whose personality better—in short, on who was in the In Crowd.
            And just like in the world, it starts with the children.  If there was ever a group that should not have its share of "mean girls" (or boys), it's the disciples of a Lord who went out of his way to accept the ones who were outside looking in.  There's no excuse for us allowing our children to grow up thinking they can shun or ridicule someone who isn't "cool" or "pretty" or "fun," or who doesn't wear the latest styles, or like the coolest teen idols, or any other such shallow reason.  They will not outgrow it.  They will just turn into the adult version, just as shallow and sometimes just as mean.  Those adults will avoid speaking to and even do their best to avoid running into the ones who are not on the right list.  And those poor folks will sit alone at services, stand alone afterward, and, as a result, feel alone in the midst of a laughing and chattering crowd.
            You may not know it is happening.  Could I suggest that it might be because you are already in the In Crowd, too happy to even notice the others?  If we are to nip this in the bud, do this today:  Ask your child, "Is there anyone in your Bible class that you never talk to?  Anyone you will not sit next to?  Anyone you and your friends talk about and even laugh about?"  Then make sure they are telling you the truth.  (Joanne Beckley recently wrote a powerful post on how to tell if your child is lying to you.)  If they have sat in Bible classes long enough, they will know the right answers whether they are doing the right things or not.  But this is important and you need to make it clear to them.  If they are old enough to be baptized believers, tell them that such behavior is not following the steps of the Lord they claimed.  It is bigotry every bit as much as racism.  And it is not acceptable; it is sin.
            Then look at yourself and see if you are the one who taught them such behavior.
            When we persist in these things, we may be the ones who, on that last day, find ourselves on the outside looking in.
 
I myself will feed my sheep and I myself will make them lie down, declares the sovereign LORD. I will seek the lost and bring back the strays; I will bandage the injured and strengthen the sick, but the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them – with judgment! (Ezek 34:15-16)

And he went throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom and healing every disease and every affliction among the people. So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought him all the sick, those afflicted with various diseases and pains, those oppressed by demons, epileptics, and paralytics, and he healed them. And great crowds followed him from Galilee and the Decapolis, and from Jerusalem and Judea, and from beyond the Jordan. (Matt 4:23-25)
 
Dene Ward

A few weeks ago we piled into the car and headed off for town.  As we reached the western end of the driveway, we saw a stack of pine limbs, 12-15 feet long and still green, as if someone had simply cut them off and laid them there.  Keith stopped the car and stared.
            "What happened here?"
            We went over it together.  I had been by the spot late the afternoon before and seen only the usual foot high field of grass shaded from the afternoon sun by the line of oaks and wild cherries along the west fence.  We had a few gray clouds that evening, as we do nearly every afternoon and evening in the summer, and maybe a quick shower, but no thunderstorm.  Once the evening deepened into pure night, all was still and warm and humid—nothing unusual at all.  It may be five acres, but the distance from the house near the eastern side and the pines on the west is not really that far.  How had this happened without us knowing it?
            Obviously, a small eddy had blown through the pines, and sixty feet above ground it was stronger than you might imagine had you been standing beneath.  I have seen those eddies before.  Sometimes they stir up the dust out in the field where there is no shelter from the trees, but where the trees are thick, they stay aloft.  For it to tear large green limbs meant it was a strong one, but also localized.  Spread out it would not have done any damage.  And so it left us with a neat pile of limbs that Keith hauled to the fire pit for the coming fall.
            When these eye crises first began to hit me, my whole world turned upside down.  I couldn't keep house or cook, I couldn't teach Bible classes, and I had to close my music studio.  Eventually I missed three months of assemblies because of the pain and the appointments and the surgeries and the medication schedule.  When I did make it back and the announcements began I had a bad moment or two.  That week was a baby shower.  The next week was a wedding.  In two weeks was a potluck.  My poor little me self said, "How can they keep on having fun like this?  Don't they know my world is a shambles?"
            Of course that didn't last, but it did come to the surface.  When you are having your own personal storm, you wonder how anyone else can remain unaffected.  Don't they see how miserable you are and how dire the situation?  Don't they care anything about you at all?  Something selfish inside you wants everyone to cry with you.  Maybe that's where the old saying comes from:  Misery loves company.  I was having my own little storm in a localized area and it wasn't affecting anyone downwind.  Or so it felt.
            Okay, so where do we go with this?  First, I am reminded of the injunction to "Rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep" (Rom 12:15).  We are all to share in one another's burdens.  If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. (1Cor 12:26).  Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated, since you also are in the body (Heb 13:3).  Knowing that others care about what is happening to you makes the trials somewhat easier to bear. 
            But there is always, as I said above, the selfishness that must be overcome.  I may be having a storm in my life.  That does not mean that anyone who does not know about it and act like the same storm is ruling their lives doesn't care.  Too many times we act like we have been specially set up to judge others in how they offer their compassion and help.  If it doesn't come when I want and the way I want, they are unloving.  And that of course, can lead to the excuse so many use for leaving the church.  "You didn't come visit me when I was in the hospital.  The elders didn't call, the preacher didn't hold my hand and pray over me, none of the members sent me a card."  Yet, when pressed in the matter you will usually find out one of two things:  the problem wasn't ignored; it was unknown because it was not shared.  Somehow everyone should just "know"—if I have to say anything, they aren't caring enough.  Or, "no one" is a gross exaggeration.
            And it also insinuates that because no one helped me the way I expected and thought they ought to, that I am now excused for any bad behavior.  For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Heb 2:18).  That passage seems to imply that one of the purposes of suffering is so we can learn to help others who are also suffering.  That's what it did for the Lord I claim to be following.  I am supposed to be learning something here, not judging others.  And if I really do learn it, then it becomes my responsibility to do better than the ones I think left me high and dry--not castigating them or using them as an excuse for my own bad conduct, but showing them the way.
            Once my mind cleared that morning, I knew that others were affected by my storm.  They came in droves with hugs, welcoming me back to the assembly.  They had sent me off to difficult surgeries with hugs and money in my pockets for the expenses.  They had fasted and prayed during my scariest operation.  They had taken turns carrying me back and forth to the doctor after Keith ran out of leave time to do it.  That is usually the case when you let your brothers and sisters know your needs, when you share your fears and troubles.  If no one knows you are in a storm, that's your fault entirely.  Don't let a few moments of self-absorption steal the joy of brotherhood.
 
Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. (Gal 6:2)
 
Dene Ward

"If you are going to do it that way, we might just have to leave."
            I suppose everyone has heard this one if they have been a member of the church for more than a few years.  In fact, I have been a member of many different congregations and have probably heard it at least that many times.  Let me clarify the situation on this occasion:  nothing unscriptural was being put forward and it was clear that everyone else was happy with it.  Yet a couple of families wanted things done differently and  threatened to leave if they did not get their way.  One of the elders said, "Then I will hold the door for you as you go." 
            If that sounds harsh to you, understand that the people who said this were known for their stubbornness and their desire to run the church their way.  Why anyone would not realize how childish this sounds a la "I will pick up my toys and go home," is beyond me.  Giving in to people with this attitude means we are allowing the weak to run the church and I do not for a minute believe God meant for that to happen.  In fact, He says that the strong should give in to the weak, which is utter genius.  Just which side is willing to admit they are weak? 
            Unity should be on the mind of every strong, mature Christian.  Be at peace among yourselves, Paul tells the Thessalonians (1 Thes 5:13).  He tells the Ephesians they should be eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (4:13).  Do you want to be righteous?  A harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace, James 3:18.  Do you want to save souls?  Jesus prayed that they may be one…so that the world may believe, John 17:21.  How can any Christian raise a ruckus about something that is merely a matter of opinion and preferences and think he is a follower of Christ?
            Rather, we should all be willing to give when we see that most want things done a certain way, assuming it is not sinful, and not push our own agendas.  Paul even told the Corinthians they should be willing to "suffer wrong" in legal matters rather than ruin the reputation of the Lord's body by divisive behavior, 1 Cor 6:6,7—even if it cost money or property!  Surely a matter of opinion is an easier thing to give up than that.
 
And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony (Col 3:14).
 
Dene Ward

Four letters, “weight allowance.”  I have seen it in crossword puzzles so many times that I automatically write in “tret,” even though I have no idea what it is talking about.  Finally I looked it up.  Tret is (or was?) the weight allowance given to buyers of certain commodities, usually four pounds per hundred, to make up for deterioration during transit and impurities like sand and dust.  So if they order one hundred pounds, they actually receive one hundred and four, the idea being that they will have at least one hundred pounds of product in that one hundred and four pounds. 
            That made me think about grace.  God supplies what we lack in perfection because of our sin.  Only the ratio is backwards—I am sure He allows at least one hundred pounds of grace for every four pounds of our faith and obedience, probably far more.
            We also make such allowances for each other.  When we know someone has been through a rough time, it is easier to take their snappy comment with equanimity.  When we love as we ought, our love covers a multitude of sins, 1 Pet 4:8. 
            However, the need to make allowances for things like that should eventually disappear as we all grow to maturity in Christ.  Shouldn’t a man who has been a Christian forty years no longer be watching and waiting for the Bible class teacher or preacher to make a comment he can raise a fuss about?  Yet how many times have I heard young preachers told, “It’s just old brother So-and-So.  That’s just the way he is.”  Why is he still that way?  Hasn’t anyone told him how much he hurts people with that behavior?  I wonder how many young preachers were expected to make so many allowances for so many things that they just gave up preaching.  Why doesn’t anyone make allowances for them?
            Is old sister So-and-So still managing to take offense at everything anyone says and jumping on them with both feet?  Hasn’t anyone told her that she is wrong to treat people that way?  Oh yes, I know what they will hear back, but we are not doing her any favors to let her keep on this way.  The Lord certainly won’t make allowances for it.
            But the larger question for me is this:  are people continually making allowances, “tret,” for me?  Am I the one causing consternation, making people walk on eggshells around me, and stealing everyone’s pleasure with my bad attitude?  God’s grace works for people who are trying their best to do right and still fail, not for those who make a career out of bitterness, criticism, and cynicism and expect everyone, including God, to just accept it..  My “tret” should become smaller and smaller as I mature as a Christian, leaving infancy behind and becoming full-grown. 
            Where do I stand today?  A 50 year old baby is no longer cute, and to take the grace of God for granted in such a way must surely be an abomination to Him.
 
For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.  Anyone who has set aside the law of Moses dies without mercy on the evidence of two or three witnesses. How much worse punishment, do you think, will be deserved by the one who has spurned the Son of God, and has profaned the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified, and has outraged the Spirit of grace?  Heb 10:26-29.
 
Dene Ward

“Stop acting like a child!” has become a staple line of many arguments.  Yet one time, Jesus said the very opposite. 
            Verily I say unto you, Except you turn, and become as little children, you shall in no wise enter into the kingdom of heaven, Matt 18:3.  Unfortunately, whenever this event in Jesus’ life comes up in Bible classes, we totally ignore the context and instead start listing all the wonderful qualities of children.  By the time we have finished, it’s a wonder we can’t find dozens of passages telling us to act like children instead of dozens telling us to grow up!  Till we all attain unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a full-grown man, unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, Eph 4:13. Worse than that, we miss the point Jesus is making.
            Look what was happening immediately before.  The Twelve were arguing about which of them was the greatest in the kingdom.  Surely that had something to do with Jesus’ admonition.  
            The verse after the one we all quote so often specifies, Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child…(v 4).  What was it about this particular child?  He had no status or rank, no wealth, and nothing to offer in worldly terms at all.  All he did was come the minute he was called and trust the one who called implicitly.  Don’t you think that made those men squirm in embarrassment at their previous behavior?
            Then Jesus went on to add,   But whoso shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it is profitable for him that a great millstone should be hanged about his neck, and that he should be sunk in the depth of the sea, v 6.  Here He included those metaphorical children who would come to Him with the same humility and trust.  How we treat them determines our fate as much as how we live our lives, or even how we worship or where.
            Do you think the early disciples did not need this lesson?  Besides their constant bickering about who was the greatest, those early churches had arguments about who had the greatest spiritual gift and who should get the most “floor time” with his gift, 1 Cor 12-14. They bragged about which preacher baptized them, 1 Cor 1.  They showed off their wealth in bringing so much Lord’s Supper that it constituted a braggadocio feast instead of a memorial supper, 1 Cor 11.  Their women had to be reminded not to dress up to show off their wealth, 1 Tim 2.  They were told that how they received guests into their assembly could condemn them as easily as committing adultery or murder, James 2.  Clearly, personal humility and acceptance of others regardless of rank was a lesson they needed from the beginning. 
            Why was that important?  Because, as Jesus tells the sheep in that great parable of the judgment in Matt 25, when they wonder how they had served the Lord by feeding, clothing, and visiting him, he answers them this way, Inasmuch as you did it unto one of these my brethren, even these least, you did it unto me, Matt 25:40.  Any time we reject a brother because we think we are better than he, whether because of wealth, education, race, or anything other consideration, we are rejecting the Lord for the same reason.
            So the next time this passage comes up in Bible class, let’s see if, instead of listing all the sweet things our children do, we can actually get the lesson Jesus intended from it.  It’s a whole lot more important than we seem to think.
 
 And he took a little child, and set him in the midst of them: and taking him in his arms, he said unto them, Whosoever shall receive one of such little children in my name, receives me: and whosoever receives me, receives not me, but him that sent me, Mark 9:36,37.
 
Dene Ward

Potlucks are a staple in the south.  As a born and bred Southerner I would be inclined to say we do it the best except for one thing—I lived in the Midwest for a couple of years early in our marriage, and they can put on a pretty good feed, too.  At nearly every potluck I beg for recipes, and I still have a few I begged from my Illinois days.  After all, pork is king in the Midwest just like it is down here in the South.  Anything with bacon is good.
            There are unwritten rules about potlucks.  We could probably go on for a page or two about that.  But the one that everyone knows, even if they won't say it out loud, is that if they come to eat, they had better bring something, too.  You know that is so because when you try to invite a visitor who didn't know about it ahead of time and, thus, has nothing to contribute, you have to practically get down on your knees and beg them to come, telling them there is always plenty, because there always is.
            We have a potluck every Sunday morning—not with literal food, but spiritual.  And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near (Heb 10:24-25).  When I hear someone say they got nothing out of the services, I want to ask if they brought anything to share.  You don't come to services and pull up to your pew like to a gas pump and expect to get filled up while you just sit by and do nothing yourself.  We are supposed to be paying attention to one another, deciding how best to encourage and edify one another, to stir one another up to perform good deeds when we leave.  Exactly how does sitting there considering yourself, and yourself only, accomplish any of that?  And why does just entering the doors give us the right to taste everyone else's meal and judge whether it meets our own preferences while giving back nothing in return for others to consider?
            I Corinthians 14 is one of the few places that discusses an assembly of the first century church.  Yes, it discusses spiritual gifts primarily, but it must be in there for us to learn something from.  Notice, when they came together, "each one" brought something—a hymn, a lesson, a revelation, a tongue, an interpretation.  And because everyone brought something there were rules for how to share them, beginning and ending with this purpose:  Let all things be done unto edifying.  If you have a tongue, but there is no interpreter, keep silent, because no one will be edified.  If two or three of you have a prophecy, take turns one at a time while the others keep silent—no one can hear the message and be edified if you are all speaking at once.  It's common sense, really, but it also tells us again that everyone brought something to the assembly to share.  The vocal traffic jam proves that. 
            This week try worrying more about what you have to offer than what you think you should "get" out of the services.  Start preparing your "dish" now for this coming Sunday.  It might be a word of encouragement to the weak.  It might be service to a young mother who is overwhelmed so she can hear a sermon for once.  It might involve making a list during the announcements of all those you need to contact with cards, phone calls, or visits during the upcoming week.  It might mean sharing things you know of so others can serve as well.  You are required to take something to the potluck if you hope to enjoy the resulting feast in return.
 
Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear (Eph 4:29).

Dene Ward

When I was a child, we lived under the threat of Communism and the Cold War.  There was not one German nation, there were two—East and West Germany, as well as East and West Berlin, a city within East Germany.  The Eastern halves of both were Communist.  It had been like that since before I was born, since 1949, in fact.
            Then Communism fell apart, one nation at a time, and that collapse hit East Germany in 1989.  Reunification suddenly became the topic of the day.  Some nations were against it.  After all, a unified Germany had killed an estimated six million Jews, "and might do it again."  They were also primed to become the dominant power in Europe with a robust economy.  In short, some did not trust them and probably never would.
            But on October 3, 1990, East and West Germany signed the necessary papers to make them once again one nation.  The legal matters are too complicated to discuss here, but it happened and it has remained so since then.  There is now one Germany called the Federal Republic of Germany.
            God believes that unity is a good thing.  He expects it of his people, and when something happens to ruin the unity, he expects us to do everything short of sin to repair it.  For example…
              I entreat Euodia and I entreat Syntyche to agree in the Lord. Yes, I ask you also, true companion, help these women, who have labored side by side with me in the gospel together with Clement and the rest of my fellow workers, whose names are in the book of life.  (Phil 4:2-3).
            One of the saddest things about having been part of many different congregations in my lifetime is seeing people just like those two famous women above.  These were good women who had worked hard for the Lord, but for some reason they just could not get along.  We have seen it in every church and it is never takes long to figure out who the two parties are.  Once we were only at a place for a week-long gospel meeting and we still knew who they were well before the week was up.  That time it was two men, by the way.
            A lot of people may say that it doesn't really matter as long as they don't gather up parties on either side or cause a ruckus because, after all, the Bible doesn't say we have to like each other.  Yet the older I get and the more I study, the more I believe it does matter for one very simple reason.  Let me show you quickly this morning.
            Grab your Bible and look up Ephesians 2:11-22.  Christ came here with a mission.  The first one was making peace between God and man (Rom 5:1-3).  But he also came to make peace among men.  Look at verse 12 in this passage.  What was happening before Christ?  As Gentiles we were separate from Christ, alienated from the Jews, strangers from the covenant of promise, had no hope, and were without God.  Do you see all those words of separation and disunity?
            But now that we are in Christ we have been brought near, are one new man, are in one body of the reconciled, have access to the father, have become one nation and one family, and are built into one spiritual Temple (vv13-21).  Notice the difference in the words—nearness, access, oneness.  And why did that have to happen?  Because (v 22) God, who is a God of peace (Phil 4:9) cannot dwell in a Temple where there is no peace.
            When we think we can hang on to our little peeves and animosities and have it not affect the church, we are sadly mistaken.  It isn't just the Jew/Gentile or black/white problem, though they are bad enough.  It took Christ coming and dying to fix that and make us one nation.  But we can still ruin the whole thing if an outsider can come in and see the disunity after just a few days, when one family fights another, when two men behave like children who want their way "or else," when two women avoid one another like the plague. 
When you just can't get along, and don't really even seem to care, you may as well hang a sign on the door that says, "God not wanted here."
 
I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, ​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 me.  (John 17:20-21).
 
Dene Ward
 

Some have called eggs the perfect food with their own perfect container.  I recently heard a TV cook say they are “hermetically sealed.”  Eggshells themselves are stronger than their reputation says.  After all, birds sit on them for days, and it takes a good deal of effort for a baby bird to peck its way out of one.
            However, it doesn’t take more than one instance of carelessness to discover just how easily they will break.  Mine usually make it home from the grocery store in one piece, in spite of being placed in a cooler with a couple of bags of groceries and an ice block, and then traveling thirty miles, the last half mile over a bumpy lime rock lane.  Only once in nearly 30 years have I opened my cooler to find eggs that have tumbled out and cracked all over the other groceries.
            You must also be careful where you put them on the counter.  Most recipes require ingredients at room temperature, so I take the butter and eggs out a half hour or more before I plan to use them.  I quickly learned to put them in a small bowl so they couldn’t possibly roll off the countertop onto the floor, even if I did think I had them safely corralled by other ingredients.  Somehow they only roll when you turn your back.  As I recall, that recipe required a lot of eggs, and suddenly I was short a couple.
            Because of their relative fragility, we have developed the idiom “walking on eggshells.”  When the situation is tricky, when someone is already on a short fuse, we tread carefully with our words, as if we were walking carefully, trying not to break the eggshells under our feet.  Sometimes that is a good thing.  No one wants to hurt a person who has just experienced a tragedy.  No one wants to carelessly bring up a topic that might hinder the growth of a babe in Christ.  Certainly no one wants to put out a spark of interest in the gospel.          
            But sometimes the need to walk on eggshells is a shame, especially when the wrong people have to walk on them.
            I suppose every congregation has one of those members who gives everyone pause; one who has hot buttons you do your best not to push;  one who seems to take offense at the most innocuous statements or actions.  The shame of it is this:  in nearly every case I can remember, that person is over 50, and most over 60.  “You know old brother so-and-so,” everyone will tell newcomers.  “You have to be careful what you say around him.”  Why is it that younger Christians must negotiate minefields around an older Christian who should have grown in wisdom and forbearance?
            Do you think God has nothing to say about people like this? 
            The vexation of a fool is known at once, but the prudent ignores an insult. Pro 12:16
            Hatred stirs up strife, but love covers all offenses. Pro 10:12
            Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Pro 19:11
            Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 1 Cor 13:7
            Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins. 1 Pet 4:8.
            Now let’s put that all together.  A person who is quick to take offense, who is easily set off when a certain topic arises, who seems to make a career out of hurt feelings is a fool, imprudent, full of hate instead of love, divisive, and lacking good sense.  That’s what God says about the matter.  He didn’t walk on eggshells.
            On the other hand, the person who overlooks insults, who doesn’t take everything the worst possible way, who makes allowances for others’ foibles, especially verbal ones, and who doesn’t tell everyone how hurt or insulted he is, is wise, prudent, sensible, and full of love.  Shouldn’t that describe any older Christian, especially one who has been at if for thirty or forty years?
            So, let’s take a good look at ourselves.  Do people avoid me?  Am I defensive, and quick to assume bad motives?   Do I find myself insulted or hurt several times a week?  Do I keep thinking that everyone is out to get me in every arena of life?  Maybe I need to realize that I am not the one that everyone always has in mind when they speak or act.  I am not, after all, the center of the universe.  Maybe it’s time I acted the spiritual age I claim to be.
            Maybe I need to sweep up a few eggshells.
 
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. Col 3:12-14.
 
Dene Ward

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