The Lord has made everything for his own purpose, yes, even the wicked for the day of trouble, Prov 16:4.
            Think about that for awhile.  If I do not allow the Lord to use me for good, he will use me for evil instead.  I cannot refuse to be used; it’s one or the other.
            A long time ago I studied as many women in the Bible as I could find and tried to discover how they fit into the scheme of redemption.  I managed to find a use for every one of them.  Then I came to Jezebel and found myself stymied.  The only thing I could think was God used her to test his prophet Elijah, and to eventually send him back to his work in Israel with a renewed spirit. 
            I would hate to think that the only use God could find for me was as a thorn in the flesh of his righteous people, testing their faith.  So how do I avoid that?
            As in the case of Elijah, discouragement can hamper the work of God.  After what seemed like an amazing victory on Mt Carmel, Elijah awoke the next morning to find that Jezebel was still in charge and his life was still in danger.  Now Ahab told Jezebel all that Elijah had done, and how he had slain all the prophets with the sword.  Then Jezebel sent a messenger to Elijah saying, So let the gods do to me, and more also if I make not your life as the life of one of them by tomorrow about this time.  And when Elijah saw this, he fled, 1 Kings 19:1-3.  What a let-down that must have been.  If that great victory had not changed things, what could?
            So Elijah ran away to the wilderness where he rested, where an angel fed him, and where God proved to him that Jezebel was not the one in charge, and there were still righteous people to stand with him.
            Am I just another Jezebel, discouraging God’s people in their mission?  Do I have a chip on my shoulder that makes me easily offended?  Do I sit like a spectator on the bleachers, watching and waiting for the least little thing, quick to complain, unashamed to make a scene, ready to pass judgment on every word and action, and worse, spread that slander to others?  Do I march up to the elders, the preacher, the class teachers as if they had to answer to me for anything I find disagreeable, which can be anything and everything, depending upon my mood at the moment?  (Yes, I have known people exactly like this.)
            What purpose do I think that serves other than to try the patience, faith, and endurance of those who must put up with my spitefulness?  Why do I think that kind of behavior will help anyone?  Would I accept it from anyone toward me? 
            Every church I have ever been a part of has one of these thorns hidden among them.  Don’t let it be you.  Remember today that God is using you.  Make sure that everything you do and say will in some way help His plan to save the world.  Your brothers and sisters need your encouragement.  Your neighbors need your example of love and service.  That is what God expects of you—to choose to be a rose instead of a thorn.
 
A fool shows his annoyance at once, but a prudent man overlooks an insult.  There is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing, Prov 12:16,18. 
 
Dene Ward

Our first morning in Apalachicola I peeked out our wooden blinds toward the Apalachicola Bay and onward to the Gulf.  The sun was just creeping up out of the water and lighting up the second floor veranda below us with a golden sheen.  Looking down and across the street with its sparse and slow moving traffic was a shop we had seen as we wandered the afternoon before.  "Old Stuff" the sign proclaimed and we could hardly wait to cross the street and give it a look.
            As we walked in a local policeman was coming out.  "If you can't find it here, you can't find it anywhere," he told us, and I believe he might have been right—assuming you were indeed looking for "old stuff."
            The shop area was not huge, but the owner had lined up table after table jammed against each other, and you could walk up and down the single-file-wide aisles and look at the things he had piled on them and beside them, and in some cases above or below them.  We saw huge old ice tongs—the kind the iceman would have used when he brought that block for your icebox.  We saw a real scythe.  This city girl is not sure she would have known what it was if Keith hadn't told me.  There was an old adding machine with what looked like at least 100 buttons on it.  A stack of LPs sat next to another of comic books, including the original "Iron Man," and behind them stood a crossbow.
            There was carnival glass, Depression glass, candy dishes of every size and shape, and an antique 8 place setting of china for a mere $75.  There were pull-up metal ice trays, metal serving trays with painted ads for Coca-Cola, and cast iron implements of every sort.  There were old soda bottles, bowls full of old silverware, and Emily Post's book, Etiquette.  A pile of early 20th century sheet music sat next to an ancient accordion.  Old dolls with porcelain heads and eyes that close when they recline, sat next to toy trains and model planes, jacks, and tiddly winks.  And that's not even the half.  One separate room held tools I had never seen, and probably never heard of, in my entire life.
            Keith asked the old gentleman about the soda bottles and what he got for them.  "Depends on their age," he said.  "The later ones go for about $5, and the older ones for up to $25."  Each.  We have a couple dozen of those $5 bottles ourselves.  The kind you used to pay a 10 cent deposit on.
            If respect and honor are measured in dollars, isn't it funny, or not, that the same old gentleman could probably walk down any street in our country and not command half the respect those old things in his shop do?  And why?  For the same reason his "old stuff" does get respect--because he is old.  In any other venue, our society wants nothing to do with the old.  Even those who are old want nothing to do with it—they do their best to get rid of its evidence with hair color, plastic surgery, and wrinkle cream.
            But the Bible is full of commands to respect the elderly—or else.  “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the LORD. (Lev 19:32)
            And more than that it tells us to walk, to live our lives, in the old paths.  Thus says the LORD: Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls... (Jer 6:16)
            There is much value in old things.  But there is even more in older people, and in older ways of doing things—if they are old because they come from the Ancient of Days, a God who has been and always will be, and to whom we owe the utmost glory, honor, and respect—not by shouting, "Hallelujah!" but by obeying his ancient and everlasting word.
 
“As I looked, thrones were placed, and the Ancient of Days took his seat; his clothing was white as snow, and the hair of his head like pure wool; his throne was fiery flames; its wheels were burning fire. ​A stream of fire issued and came out from before him; a thousand thousands served him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; the court sat in judgment, and the books were opened. (Dan 7:9-10)
 
Dene Ward

Did you know there are six Marys in the New Testament?  First, of course, is Jesus' mother.  Then Mary Magdalene (from Magdala), plus the mother of James the Less who was also the wife of Cleopas, the sister of Martha, the mother of John Mark, and finally, the Mary who lived in Rome (Rom 16:6).  As it turns out, Mary was one of the more popular names given to little girls in Palestine in the first century.  (For boys, the most popular was Simon and there are 9 of them in the New Testament!)
            And why was Mary so popular?  It helps if you know the Hebrew equivalent of some of these names.  Mary in the Old Testament was Miriam.  Of course it would be a popular name among women and girls especially.  But I must confess, even when I found out that the two names were the same, my first thought was, "Why her?  She fell and fell with a bang!"
            But isn't that what our culture does?  We remember the failures forever.  No matter how good a person might have been both before and after, we focus on the mistakes they made.  We always say, "Yes, but—"
            Aren't you glad God doesn't do that?  David was always described as "a man after God's own heart."  Peter, who denied Jesus, was allowed to preach the first gospel sermon to both Jews and Gentiles, and serve as an elder in the church (1 Pet 5:1).  And Miriam?  After she was punished, she came back and evidently did her job quietly and well.  Hundreds of years later God remembered her through the prophet Micah like this:  For I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery, and I sent before you Moses, Aaron, and Miriam (Mic 6:4).  No "yes buts" with God.
            Isn't that comforting?  And shouldn't we say, "Shame on us," when we do not give that same consideration to a brother or sister?  Shouldn't we be focusing on the good in people instead of constantly looking for and remembering the bad?  Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1Cor 13:7).
            Let's try today to remember the good that people have done, even the ones you are not particularly fond of, or have had issues with.  If they sit next to you on the pew, chances are high that there is something good there if you will only take the time to actually look for it.  And wouldn't you like it if that person did the same for you?
 
Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins (1Pet 4:8).
 
Dene Ward
 

"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