I sat by the window the other morning watching the birds flit and fly as they visited my various feeders, sometimes sharing perches, other times chasing other birds away.  Eight to ten cardinals, over thirty-five sparrows, half a dozen titmice, a couple of wrens, eight goldfinches, a yellowthroat, and a red-bellied woodpecker flew in and out and around the feeders, somehow missing each other without the aid of the FAA and their air traffic controllers.  Even on the ground, the traffic grew thick as seven doves waddled in from the vine bed, weaving in and out of the birds who had given up on a seat at the feeders and sat below, feasting on the fallen birdseed.
            It was the middle of the coldest week of winter we have had here in North Florida in years, night time temperatures in the mid-teens, highs in the low forties.  The water in their water pans on top of the feeder posts froze solid.  Occasionally a cardinal landed, gazing at what used to be drinkable with a bereft look.  Eventually Keith, the big softie, took a boiling tea kettle outside and poured it on top of the frozen water.  At first, it just sluiced right off the ice, but finally began to melt it enough to give the birds something to drink, "on the rocks."  Times were hard for the bird population, and they needed our offer of birdseed, suet, and water, so they came freely and eagerly.
            Guess what happens in the summer?  The bird numbers dwindle significantly.  I only load the feeders once a week instead of every day.  I replace suet in the cages every month instead of every week.  When times are good, the seed eaters can find their own easily.  The carnivores don't need my block of suet so much.  And with the summer rains, puddles lie everywhere, and creeks run full.  Only three or four cardinals fly in with any regularity, and them just once a day.  Only the stodgy old doves come out of habit in the evenings.  I might see a titmouse or two at odd times, or maybe the new baby wrens who have been taught where to find an easy meal, but who will just as likely forsake us as soon as their wings are strong enough to take them further away. 
             And we, like the birds, fall prey to the good and easy times.  When we prosper, it's because of us, not because of God.  It's for us to use for ourselves, not for us to share with those less fortunate.  It's all about getting bigger and better, more and more, and God takes last place in any decision we make.  And sacrifice is for everyone else, all those fanatics who actually talk about God and make sacrifices proving their faith and devotion to Him.
             But when times are hard, boy, do we come running!  Now we pray, now we attend services so we can praise God and ask for help, for sustenance, for solutions to all our problems, in exactly the way we want them.  Not because we have suddenly become devoted servants of God, but because we need Him now.  When the good times return, we will be gone again, just like my birds.
          But here is one problem with that.  God does eventually run out of patience.  When we only want Him when times are rough, when we or someone we love has a grave illness, when the economy threatens the lifestyle we have grown accustomed to, someday, He will not give us the answer we want.  Instead He will say, as He did about the faithless Jews, As I called, and they would not hear, so they called, and I would not hear, says the LORD of hosts (Zech 7:13).
           I would love for my birds to throng my feeders all year long.  And I am sure that God would love for his children to do the same.  Perhaps we would do better to eat the seed of poverty than the seed of prosperity.  At least it looks that way out my window.
 
Take care lest you forget the LORD your God by not keeping his commandments and his rules and his statutes, which I command you today, lest, when you have eaten and are full and have built good houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks multiply and your silver and gold is multiplied and all that you have is multiplied, then your heart be lifted up, and you forget the LORD your God… (Deut 8:11-14).
 
Dene Ward
 

As mentioned yesterday, we recently spent a few lovely days in Apalachicola.  Our children pooled their resources and gave us an anniversary gift certificate for a turn of the 20th century inn, Florida cracker style with large windows and wrap-around verandas and white wooden rockers, antique furniture, narrow, steep stairways (no elevators!), and a widow's walk.  Our room had a four poster bed with bars for mosquito netting, wooden-slat blinds, a chamber pot (just for decor), a clawfoot iron tub and a pedestal sink.  The floors were all original long leaf pine and black cypress, complete with creaks!  Despite the authenticity, it was completely comfortable, well, except maybe for Keith having to carry our suitcases up three flights of stairs.
            Located in the center of this small fishing town, we were able to park at the inn and simply walk everywhere.  One day we went to the Orman house, an old home originally owned by the man who practically put Apalachicola on the map.  It is now a "state park" and the ranger was our guide.  This place is not just his job, it is his life.  He has written books on it, and he knows it like it is his own childhood home.  We saw all the furniture, dishes, and even clothes from the original family, up three stories all the way to the locked entrance to the widow's walk. As nice as this home must have been in the 1800s, it amazed us more to find out that it had been the guest house.  When the family's main home was destroyed they had moved into this one.  Being this family's guests was a privilege indeed.
            After we left the house, we began our walk back to the center of town down the residential streets.  Most of the houses were beautiful old frame homes in the same style as the inn—large windows, high ceilings, wrap around porches, and widow's walks, with professionally landscaped lawns. Before long we were taking pictures of ordinary peoples' homes instead of those in the historic district.
            After a few blocks we came upon the Chestnut Street Cemetery.  The cemetery is the oldest burial ground in the town.  It is said to have 560 marked graves as well as many unmarked ones.  Certainly it appeared full to me as we walked around what looked like a haphazard layout on a rough, uneven path shaded by old live oaks.  We had been given a map but it was almost impossible to find some of the graves.  It was equally impossible to read some of the gravestones because they were so old.  We found at least one grave of a woman born in 1700s. 
          Our wandering showed us the final resting sites of people who died in their 60s, 50s, 40s, and even 20s and teens.  We found Confederate soldiers and Union sympathizers lying not 50 yards apart.   We found large plots where the remains of wealthy family members all rested together, and small insignificant stones marking the graves of the poor, among them a marker reading "Rose, a Faithful Servant."  Then, not far from another large family enclave, we found the grave of a woman who had cut her husband's throat—and then her own. 
          We found many, many tiny stones marking the graves of infants, often several from the same family.  In one spot we found three names on one marker, a 40 year old father, his 2 year old child, and 6 month old baby, all victims the same year of a yellow fever epidemic.
          All this reminded me of the fourth Lamentation.  The whole focus of that psalm of lament seems to be that the destruction of Jerusalem did something no reformer ever could—it made all the people equal. 
         Her princes were purer than snow, whiter than milk; their bodies were more ruddy than coral, the beauty of their form was like sapphire. Now their face is blacker than soot; they are not recognized in the streets; their skin has shriveled on their bones; it has become as dry as wood. (Lam 4:7-8).  The wealthy among them, who neglected and even mistreated the poor, now looked no different and suffered no differently than the poor they had once looked down upon.
          Death does the same thing.  The large, ornate markers over the graves we saw were just as difficult to read due to age as the smaller plain markers, and the bodies beneath them would not have looked one bit better had they been dug up. 
          But death does do this:  it separates the righteous from the unrighteous.  The final destination of the former is far better than that of the latter.  In that they are not equal.  And if anything can finally make us realize that all these things we spend our lives on are pointless unless our work and service is directed toward God, perhaps it is that.  Unfortunately, too many of us learn this a little bit too late.
          If you can find the Chestnut Street cemetery, or one like it, maybe it would do you a world of good to walk through it soon.
 
One dies in his full vigor, being wholly at ease and secure, his pails full of milk and the marrow of his bones moist. Another dies in bitterness of soul, never having tasted of prosperity. They lie down alike in the dust, and the worms cover them. (Job 21:23-26)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Sometimes I wonder whether our modesty has become a bushel that hides our light. Paul on occasion found the need to boast of the things he had suffered to preach, list the things he had given up to follow Jesus, and report the work he had done by God's grace (2Cor 11:16-33, Phil 3:4-7, Acts 14:27, 15:12). Not only so, but Barnabas's generosity was known to the whole church (Acts 4:36-37). Somehow, it seems we have let our fear of appearing like Ananias and Sapphira keep us from letting our light shine. Of course, many of you have already figured out that the above is my excuse for doing a little boasting. Judge whether it is light shining or ego.

For most of our 48 ½ years, Dene and I have lived with our financial noses barely above water and occasionally sputtered and bubbled a little bit. Then, beginning with the death of my parents we got our chins out and with the passing of hers, we find ourselves to be relatively comfortable. We have lived in the same 24 X 56 doublewide since the boys were 5 and 3 (1982) and have upgraded it over the years with a screened porch (her father's gift), a roofover, siding, kitchen cabinets, laminate flooring, but, it is still a mobile home. After the emotions settled from her mother's passing, we discussed building a house on our 5 acres. We can afford it now, a REAL HOUSE!

We decided not. Our grandparents raised 3-8 children in houses much smaller than even this trailer. At my age, we may be here a few more years or a few more days so a house might be all the disruption with little benefit. Finally, many had helped us along the way and we longed for this opportunity to help others. So, we will continue to pray throughout the hurricane season for truly, we live in a house of sticks.

In the last few years, we have helped preachers in Nicaragua, Africa and a few in the U.S. We have donated to St Judes (Not Catholic affiliated), the hospice that cared for our (Dene's) Mom, Sacred Selections, Florida College, etc. We continue to live under the budget set when I retired with an occasional splurge.
I am aware of a number of other twice blessed brethren who have followed the same principle and given much more in dollars, so the following will not apply to many of our readers.

But, it is immediately obvious on the face that many if not most church members are more interested in bigger houses, newer cars, fashionable clothes, recreation, etc. than they are in furthering the work of the Lord. Look where their money goes! Look where their time goes! Listen to what they talk about most. Bigger Barns.

We pray every night for the Christians in other countries that struggle for enough to eat, make decisions about going hungry or buying medicine for an ongoing illness, and other such problems, but who are rich in faith.

We pray just as fervently for Christians in America who are not aware that God is blessing them to meet those needs, not so they can have bigger, better, and more.
 
"Let him that stole steal no more: but rather let him labour, working with his hands the thing which is good, THAT HE MAY HAVE TO GIVE TO HIM THAT NEEDS. " (Eph 4:28).
"And he answered them, “Whoever has two tunics is to share with him who has none, and whoever has food is to do likewise"  (Luke 3:11).  
"CONTRIBUTE TO THE NEEDS OF THE SAINTS, pursue hospitality." (Rom 12:13).
"Tell them to use their money to do good. They should be rich in good works and GENEROUS TO THOSE IN NEED, always being ready to share with others. " (1Tim 6:18).
Jesus and the apostles said one does not have to be rich to share.
 
Keith Ward
 
 

Read these lyrics and tell me what this hymn is about:

I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I’m upward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where those abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

I want to live above the world,
Though Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till Heav’n I’ve found,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

            I bet nearly every one of my readers said, "It's about Heaven."  That's what I thought, for years.  But check out the line in the second verse that says, "Though some may dwell where these abound, my prayer, my aim is higher ground."  Then look at the third verse, "I want to live above the world."  This song is NOT about going to Heaven.   It's about living in this world but with a spiritual mindset on a spiritual plane.  This song is about those somewhat mysterious things Paul calls in Ephesians "the heavenlies" (1:3; 1:20; 2:6; 3:10; 6:12).  Some of you may see "heavenly places."  The word "places" is supposed to be understood, but few of us have any idea what this is at all.
            Whatever "the heavenlies" are, or wherever they are, that is where our spiritual blessings originate (1:3).  It is where Christ sits (1:20).  Right there you are saying, "See?  It has to be Heaven."  But keep going.  It is also where we now sit with Christ after having been raised up, not from physical death, but from the death of sin (2:1, cf Rom 6:3,4).  It is also the place from which the spiritual beings look down on us now in the church (3:10) to see the wisdom of God, and it is the place where we daily fight our battles against Satan and his demons (6:12).  It is a place that only the spiritually mature are aware of, and it is the place we long to live ("above the world") so we can keep our minds on God and Christ and the mission we have as their servants, and with their help, win those battles!
            Romans 8 says it like this:  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the spirit set their minds on the things of the spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace (Rom 8:5-6).
            Philippians says it like this:  Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus (Phil 2:5), and …whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things (Phil 4:8).
            If you look hard enough, you can find the idea all over the New Testament.  Now go back and read those lyrics again.  We must be spiritual enough not to let this world distract us—trials, sorrows, persecutions, politics, economics, nor any other purely material and temporary thing.  Then we can truly see what this life should be all about.
 
So if you have been raised with the Messiah, seek what is above, where the Messiah is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on what is above, not on what is on the earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with the Messiah in God (Col 3:1-3).
 
Dene Ward
 

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