In his third epistle, John prays what has to be the most frightening prayer in the Bible.  Beloved I pray that in all things you may prosper and be in health, even as your soul prospers, v2. 
            Have you ever wondered what might happen if God suddenly answered that prayer—that your body and your economic life may be as healthy as your soul?  Those of us who prosper financially, might suddenly be living a hand to mouth existence, while others who can barely make ends meet might find their bank accounts overflowing.  Are we more concerned with our IRAs, annuities, and money market accounts than with the unfathomable riches of Christ, Eph 3:8?  What was it Jesus called the rich man who was more concerned with his physical wealth than his spiritual wealth?  You fool!  This night is your soul required of you, and all the things you have prepared, whose will they be then?  So is he who lays up treasure for himself but is not rich toward God.  Luke 12:20,21
           But what about the physical health angle of that prayer?  Some of us who are fat and sassy might instantly become pale and emaciated.  Some of us might even fall over dead!  But there might be others, frail and chronically ill, who suddenly become as hale and hearty as the great athletes of the world.
            If we want to be able to pray John’s prayer, we need to get our souls in shape.  Do they get the proper nourishment or do they fast several days a week?  Do our souls have to be force-fed?  Do we “exercise our senses” every day, “discerning between good and evil,” or do we sit like couch potatoes, taking in with a glazed look everything the world has to offer?  Are we willing to take our medicine when we need it, or do we deny our faults and blame everyone else as if that will make them go away?
            If a righteous man stands up Sunday morning and prays this prayer fervently—that everyone there will suddenly be as prosperous in wealth and healthy in body as they are in soul--will we jump up and beg him to stop because we know the results of the effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man, James 5:16? 
             Think about it; it might change your life.
 
For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father from whom every family in heaven and in earth is named, that he should grant you according to the riches of his glory that you may be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner man, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, to the end that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be strong to apprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which passes knowledge that you may be filled unto all the fullness of God.  Eph 3:14-19
 
Dene Ward
 

Yesterday I was sweeping, an almost daily chore when you have laminate flooring and live in the country.  Even though we have outdoor shoes that we leave on the porch and change to indoor shoes as we enter, we still track in more dirt and sand on our dress shoes than seems possible.  The dustpan seldom contains less than a quarter cup per room.
            As I bent down to scrape that quarter cup into my dust pan one day, Phil 3:8 suddenly flashed through my mind.  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 (Phil 3:8).  That dustpan was holding what my ESV calls "rubbish."  When I was a child I know that word in my little white KJV was something else entirely, but in either case it was something one would definitely want to be rid of.
            But what did Paul say that "rubbish" was?  "…circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless (Phil 3:4-6).  Paul was talking about his religious identity, his claim to be a man of God, and his accolades under the Law—as a zealous student of Gamaliel he was destined for greatness in Judaism. 
            So what does that mean my own personal dustpan is full of?  My "pedigree," my education, any awards and accolades I have gained in my fields, even my wealth and possessions.  Paul gave up all those things for Christ, but does that mean I have to?  When push comes to shove I most certainly do.  When my faith causes me to be reviled and persecuted (Matt 5:11), insulted (1 Pet 4:14), to suffer "the plunder of my property" (Heb 10:34), to be imprisoned (Heb 13:3), or even to be killed (Rev 12:11), then that is what I must endure.  Everything I have I should count as "rubbish."  Whether it's a beautiful home I love, or status in the community, or friends, or a bank account or stock portfolio—it should all be rubbish in my eyes.  
            Paul gave up everything for the Lord.  The next time you sweep, mentally place in that dustpan everything he put in it—and mean it.  If you haven't done it already in your heart, should the time ever come for you that finally came for him, you will never be able to follow his example.
 
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 (Phil 3:7-8).
 
Dene Ward

A few weeks ago I took a few minutes to show my class how to figure out Jacob's age when he left home for Haran.  It took putting together a lot of different verses and you had to start with his age when he went to Egypt and back up, but it only required simple math, in this case subtraction.  I had already shown them how to show that neither Shem nor Abram were the eldest brothers, more simple math, both adding and subtracting.  We have also discussed the cultural norms for weaning and for young girls' "marriageable age," along with how much wood a young man can carry at what age.  When we came up with Jacob's age when he made that original deal for Rachel, they were shocked at the number.  So what was it?  Well, about that…
            Some folks wonder, what's the big deal?  Why figure this out in the first place?  I'll tell you one quick reason—it completely undoes a lot of false pictures we have in our minds when we try to visualize these Bible narratives.  For another, it can explain what we originally considered inexplicable behavior when we realize how old someone was—or wasn't.  You might just want to throw away a lot of those coloring sheets you have used for your Bible classes and maybe create a few of your own.
            But the larger lesson for today is this.  Just who figured all this out in the first place?  Who took the time to find passage after passage, research history, geography, and other assorted minutiae, and then carefully put it all together?  Some of it came from scholars whose work was to do just that.  But some has come from ordinary people like you and me who simply spend time in the Word, many of whom did so a couple of centuries ago.
            They took care of their day to day existence, which meant tilling, planting, and growing everything they ate, preserving the things they would eat during the winter, weaving the cloth to make every item they wore, and carrying water for everything from drinking and cooking, to cleaning and bathing, to watering their considerable livestock, which they also fed and cared for as required, by the way.  And they did everything without power equipment or time saving devices.  Then they came in worn out at night and by candle or lamplight opened God's Word.  They spent so much time in the Word that they could write hymns not based upon one passage, but with each line quoting or alluding to a different passage.  Any time something happened in their lives they could quote a scripture that applied.  They spent all their "spare" time in that, rather than watching TV, scrolling through Facebook or otherwise surfing the internet, or texting, talking, or simply staring rapt at their phones.  That's how those people "had more time than we do."  Nonsense.
            Some still might think those pieces of information I mentioned above are trivial or even pointless.  Seems to me that if God made it possible to figure them out, then just maybe that is exactly what we ought to be doing.  As for Jacob's age when he bargained for Rachel, why don't you try that one yourself?  Things like that and knowing Jacob's age at the birth of Joseph (that one's easy) might not be essential to my salvation, but spending so much time in the Word of God that I can figure that out too, might just be.
 
Oh how I love your law! It is my meditation all the day. Your commandment makes me wiser than my enemies, for it is ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers, for your testimonies are my meditation (Ps 119:97-99).
 
Dene Ward

On February 26, 2008, the Svalbard Global Seed Vault first opened.  In case you are mystified, this seed vault holds samples of as many seeds in the world as the operators can lay hands on.  The point is to have a way to restore plant life if some cataclysmic event destroys it all on this planet.  Maybe I remember my biology class wrong, after all it was over fifty years ago, but I thought that if there were no plants, there would be no humans either so who will plant those seeds?  Well, actually, that's not the only point.  It seems someone who is supposed to know about these things and probably knows far more than I, says that 90% of the plant life that has ever existed on this planet is now extinct so they are also trying to keep the rest from becoming extinct.
            Many seed banks exist in the world, but all the others exist in places where the building itself can be destroyed—and then what happens to all those seeds?  This one is located in the side of a mountain in an archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, about halfway between continental Norway and the North Pole.  Even if the machinery that runs the freezers were to break down, the seeds would stay frozen because the temperature in that mountain is below zero.  Which also makes me wonder why they need the machinery, but I'll be nice and move on.
           Inspired by this amazing structure and its mission, Nabisco has built a Global Oreo Vault (no, I am not making this up) just down the road from the seed vault in which they have placed their famous recipe along with a large stockpile of Oreos "in case of asteroids" or other doomsday event on Planet Earth.  We may all be dead, but there will always be Oreos.  Who will make more of them with that recipe no one has said.
            I should mention that those Oreos are wrapped in Mylar that will protect them from moisture, air, and chemical reactions, and from temperatures ranging from -80 degrees to 300 degrees Fahrenheit.  And yet someone will still be alive and caring whether or not they have Oreos?  In the interests of fairness, Nabisco did this with a bit of tongue in cheek humor, but still it was done and it does make for a good lesson today.
            We are just as silly, and actually mean it, about our material wealth.  Silly enough that Jesus reminds us, Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon the earth, where moth and rust consume, and where thieves break through and steal: but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth consume, and where thieves do not break through nor steal (Matt 6:19-20).  We might think we would never build a Global vault of our own, but the truth of the matter shows when we spend more on our own pleasure and entertainment than on spiritual matters, when those in the world who know us personally would never think to describe us as generous and charitable, and when a downturn in the stock market scares us more than a sermon about Hell.
            I recently found a passage in Job that blew me away.  If I have made gold my hope, And have said to the fine gold, You are my confidence; If I have rejoiced because my wealth was great, And because my hand had gotten much; If I have beheld the sun when it shined, Or the moon walking in brightness, And my heart has been secretly enticed, And my mouth has kissed my hand: This also is an iniquity to be punished by the judges; For I should have denied the God that is above (Job 31:24-28).  Many of us are so ignorant of scripture that we miss the references here.  Idols were "kissed" (1 Kings 19:18; Hos 13:2), and here we have someone kissing his own hand, the hand that "had gotten much" or in our words, was responsible for all this person's material blessings.  His wealth was his "confidence" instead of God, and therefore he was worthy of judgment—for idolatry.  He was his own idol.
            If you had one of those Global Vaults, what would you put in it?  Even if you did have one, it won't do a bit of good when the True Cataclysmic Event takes place.  You might as well have put Oreos in it.
 
And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” And he told them a parable, saying, “The land of a rich man produced plentifully, and he thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’ And he said, ‘I will do this: I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’ But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?’ So is the one who lays up treasure for himself and is not rich toward God  (Luke 12:15-21).
 
Dene Ward

We make one mistake in our Bible study over and over and over, and because of it we often miss the lessons we need the most.  What mistake is it?  We fail to make it “real.”  We see the words and know their meanings but never place it into our culture and our times.  Let me show you.
            Just a few weeks ago we talked about the Good Samaritan.  We mentioned that he left “two denarii” to care for the injured man.  So he was generous, we say, and move right along, missing just how generous he was.  Put it into our language.  A denarius was a day’s wage for a skilled laborer—not an untrained ditch digger, but someone like a mason, or a welder, or a carpenter or plumber.  Now think in your mind, how much an hour do those people make nowadays?  What would that be for two days’ labor today?  Relatively speaking, that’s how much the Samaritan left for a perfect stranger, and one who was his enemy at that.  Would we do that for, say, a Muslim we encountered in need?
            Here’s another one for you.  The early church sold property to provide for the needs of those who had come only for the feast and wound up staying far beyond that, with no work, no place to stay, no way to provide for their families.  Obviously those in Jerusalem did not sell the houses they lived in.  That would have exacerbated the problem with more homeless people.  But if they had another piece of property outside town, or maybe some rental property on the other side or even down the street, that’s what they sold.  Have you priced houses and acreage lately?  We are talking tens of thousands, maybe over a hundred thousand in our day, and the cost of living in their time would have made it relatively the same amount.  These were not paltry gifts.  Now you understand a little better the temptation that Ananias and Sapphira gave in to.  And doesn’t that make that instant excuse we fall back on so often when even a small need arises, “I have to be a good steward of my money,” just a little ridiculous?
            Sometimes we need to understand the culture in relation to people.  Young men were expected to be mature enough to begin a family and support that family with an occupation by the time they were in their mid-teens.  Young women were expected to marry at puberty and begin raising a family immediately.  John MacArthur says that girls in first century Palestine entered the betrothal (kiddushin) at 13 and married at 14.  Young people were expected to understand making a lifetime commitment well before we expect that of our own children.  Make it real:  13 back then was more like 19 or 20 now in regard to maturity.  Think about that before you begin pressing your child about baptism before he is even out of grade school.  Don’t make it a contest to see whose child is baptized first.
            A book of the customs of Bible times is an excellent investment.  When we do not know those customs we miss the bravery of women like the one in Luke 7.  The fact that she even got into the house to see Jesus took guts and what could have happened to her and been condoned by those in charge will fill you with shame at the times you have cowered in the back corner instead of admitting your faith.  How about the blind man in John 9?  Do you know what it meant to be cast out of the synagogue?  It meant no social and no business life—and that meant poverty.  And here he was just now able to have a normal life for the first time since his birth and he sacrifices it all when he puts those rulers in their place with the statement, “Here is the amazing thing—he made me see and yet you do not know where he came from.”
            When you make these things real, when you make them relate to something you actually know and experience, the application to your own life will become real as well.  In fact, it may hurt a little more.  It may hurt a lot more.  Maybe that’s why we don’t do it.
 
For whatever was written in former days was written for our instruction, that through endurance and through the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. Rom 15:4
 
Dene Ward

350 years ago America had no holidays.  Go through your calendar and count them all.  Not one of those dates was a holiday back then.  In fact, in New England, celebrating Christmas was illegal.  Go read about Christmas in England that long ago and you will find out why.  It was considered a time to feast, drink, gamble, and fornicate, a holiday based more on Saturnalia than anything focused on family values.  When the Puritans left England, they left all that behind and declared Christmas a day of fasting. 
            By 1800 Christmas was no longer illegal, but it was just as rowdy, or more, as it had been in long ago England, sort of halfway between Spring Break and Mardi Gras, one authority I read said.  The poor, probably egged on by a criminal element, demanded entrance into the homes of those in better financial shape, along with money and food, often stooping so far as vandalism, looting, assault, and rape.  It was evidently like this all through the area.  On Christmas Day 1828, the rioting was so bad that the residents of New York City called for the formation of their first police force.  It wasn't until later in the nineteenth century that Christmas evolved into the family-focused holiday we know it as today.  In fact, it wasn't even declared a federal holiday until 1870. 
           We may think that earlier behavior is beyond us, but let me ask you, have you ever been to a Black Friday Sale?  "Between 2006 and 2018…44 Black Friday incidents in America left 11 dead and 109 injured" (nypost.com).  And sometimes we aren't much better in our own homes.
            I have only seen it once and hope to never again.  We were guests of others on Christmas Day and their method of passing out gifts went like this:  One person starting picking up presents, read the name, passed it to its recipient and continued, about one every five seconds.  In five minutes it was over with.  Everyone else was sitting there panting with exertion amid piles of crumpled wrapping paper and snarled up ribbon, and no one knew who got what from whom.  Meanwhile, my poor boys were still opening up what were far fewer, far less expensive presents, and looking up at the folks around them with a look of befuddlement.  "That's not how it's supposed to be," was clearly written on their faces.
            So how was it supposed to be?  We never had much money growing up, but my mother was still careful to teach us the point of gift-giving—it was to do kind things for others, not amass things for oneself.  She taught us to listen to one another all year long, to make note—sometimes literally—of things different ones of us needed or mentioned wanting, usually something that would make life a little easier.  None of us ever wished for the expensive and unattainable.  What was the point?  And then a couple of weeks before Christmas, the four of us went to the Mall, my sister and I with money carefully saved from our allowances and birthday gifts.  We divided up and I went with my father to buy for my mother and my sister, while she went with our mother to buy for me and our father.  Then we met in the middle of the concourse at a predetermined time and switched companions in order to finish our shopping.  We were usually so excited about what we had gotten each other it was difficult to keep the secret.
            Then on Christmas morning each one in turn got to choose a gift to give to another.  We all sat and watched that person open the gift.  The joy, the excitement, the pleasure on the other person's face was as much a part of the gift to us as the gift to the receiver.  We had very few gifts under that tree, but that gift giving process lasted far longer than our neighbors' who were soon out riding new bikes or scooters and hauling out boxes of trash while we were still sitting there enjoying the process of giving as well as receiving.
            I passed that on to my boys.  We were in the same boat as my parents in their early days—not much money and few gifts.  But they have both told me that choosing the gifts and watching their opening was always their favorite part of Christmas.  I still see that in them as mature adults, looking to give, looking to see to the needs of others, looking for ways to share what they have.  My mother did that for me and she has now done it for them, too, through me.  I think I see it in my grandchildren as well.
            Christmas does not have to be about materialism.  What it does have to be about is this:  It is more blessed to give than to receive, (Acts 20:35).  Don't let your Christmas morning be a feeding frenzy of piranha in the river "Gimme."  Make it a point to take time and savor your gifts to others.  My mother thought that was what it was all about, and that is a gift I truly treasure.
 
Dene Ward

Every dog we have ever had has loved a good belly rub, but Chloe seems to have taken it to another level.  It isn’t just that she begs for a belly rub, it’s that she thinks God put her here to have her belly scratched, and that scratching her belly may be the only reason He put us here.
            A few people seem to have the same opinion about themselves and the church.  The only reason God instituted a church is to pander to their every need.  It seldom seems to cross their minds that other people have needs as well, and that those needs may be even more critical than theirs.  Chloe wouldn’t care if the house were on fire if she saw us running outside.  She would still scamper up, plop herself on the ground and roll over—isn’t that why we came outside, to scratch her belly?  A Christian who thinks he is the center of the universe is behaving the same way.
            Others think the only reason God put them in the church was for the church to listen to them.  They never ask a question in a Bible class, or offer a comment to stimulate discussion and deep thinking.  Instead they have all the answers and are happy to tell you exactly how things ought to be done, even things that are not specifically spelled out in the scriptures.  They know best.  It amazes me when these are people new to a congregation, who don’t yet know the background and experiences of the people they are trying to advise, often including elders, or who are in their mid-twenties with little life experience behind them.  Kind of reminds me of Chloe who thinks a belly rub is appropriate any time of day, any place, even while you are trying to shoot a rattlesnake that she obviously has not seen.  But she knows best, Boss!
            Then there are the ones who think their feelings, or the feelings of a family member, are all that count.  The church is supposed to pussyfoot around and never offer exhortation or criticism that might “offend” by our definition of the word.  They think they are put here to be stroked and petted and “have their belly rubbed” regardless of what might be happening to their souls.  Reminds me of that passage about people “whose god is their belly”—nothing matters at the moment but how they feel.  I am not about to let Chloe roll over on her back in the middle of a garden row I have just planted that is supposed to help feed us this year, no matter how much it hurts her feelings for me to tell her, “No!”  Some things are more important than her feelings, and if she were my child instead of my dog, I would explain that to her rather than let her do as she pleased and cost us a few hundred dollars worth of groceries. 
            So what do you do about people like that?  You do the same thing the Lord did for you when you were still that immature and selfish.  You tolerate, you teach, you show them a better way with the example of your own service and willingness to accept abuse or take on responsibilities that are not yours but that you do because they need doing and you are there.  You love them in a way they don’t deserve and yes, you rebuke when necessary and hope they won’t act childishly and run off to play somewhere else, where everyone will scratch the belly they offer, and let them be the only ones who matter and the only ones worth listening to.
            The Lord did all that for us, and he expects us to do it for them.  Some day maybe they will learn to be better than a silly little dog who thinks the world is here to scratch her belly.  Didn’t you?
 
And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, encourage the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all. 1Thes 5:14
 
Dene Ward
 

“Mommy, those green blackberries burnt my mouth.”
            We were picking peas in a field behind a member’s farmhouse late one afternoon.  We had just moved to the area and had not had time to plant our own garden, so we were happy to do all the free U-picks our brethren offered.  Nathan, who was only 13 months old, was playing up at the house under the watchful care of the grandmotherly farmwife.  Three year old Lucas wanted to come “help,” so he trailed along behind us, picking a pea pod every so often, but usually exploring.
            It took a minute for what he had said to register.  Then, with a knot of fear growing in my stomach, I calmly asked, “What blackberries?  Show me.” 
            He led us back about twenty feet, to a place in the fencerow.  Instead of blackberry vines, we saw a four foot high green plant, with spade-shaped leaves and round green berries—nightshade.  We dropped our buckets, pulled the plant, scooped him up, and headed for the nearest emergency room, thirty miles east.  As soon as we arrived, Keith dropped me at the door.  I ran in and practically threw both Lucas and the plant on the registration desk. 
            “My baby ate this,” I managed between gasps.
            I had found the trick to immediate action in an emergency room.  They ran both him and the plant back behind the swinging doors.  I, of course, was taken to Paperwork Central—they never forget the documentation so they will be paid.  It probably did not help that I had come straight from the field, sweat, dirt, and all, and so did not look particularly solvent.
            Two hours later we left with a completely sobered three- year-old, promising us he would never eat green blackberries again.  As far as I know, he hasn’t!
            So why are we so much less careful about the poison that sickens our souls?  Spiritual nightshade surrounds us every day of our lives.  Somehow we think we are immune to its effects.  We go places we should not, associate with people we should not, dally with things that are as dangerous as a poisonous snake, and pooh-pooh anyone who dares tell us to be careful.
            I am not just talking about things like alcohol and sexual immorality.  Do you realize that wealth in the scriptures is never pictured as anything but dangerous to our souls?  But what do we wish for when the subject of wishes comes up?  And what do we always say?  “I could handle it.  I would never use it the wrong way.  It would never get the best of me.”  What do we tell our young people when they say the same things about drugs and alcohol? 
            Arrogance will always get the best of us in all these cases.  Might as well handle a cobra.  Might as well drink some cyanide. 
            Might as well eat a pie made of green blackberries.


For [the] rock [of the wicked] is not as our Rock...For their vine is of the vine of Sodom, and of the fields of Gomorrah; their grapes are grapes of gall, their clusters are bitter.  Their wine is the poison of serpents and the cruel venom of asps, Deut 32:31-33.

 

Dene Ward