All of a sudden I have a lot of magnifying glasses in my house:  a large “Sherlock Holmes” type, another that has a light and fastens to the side of the table, a whole magnifying page that can be laid over a book, and a small one I keep in my purse for fine print in places where I do not want to wrestle with my reading glasses.  Sometimes we are tempted to use spiritual magnifying glasses too, and not always in good ways.

Often verses of the Bible are misinterpreted because of the use of the Middle English in the King James Version.  Even when newer, just as reputable versions come along and put the correct spin on a passage, the old interpretation sticks in the minds of those who learned it as children.  1 Thes 5:22 is one of those verses.  Abstain from all appearance of evil has come to mean that I must not do or say anything that might possibly be construed as wrong to an observer or listener.  “They might think you are __________.”  Fill in the blank with practically anything as long as it is a sin.

Even if I did not have better translations to look at, here is my problem with that interpretation:  it directly contradicts the admonition of love in 1 Cor 13:7—love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things.  When I love someone I must look at what they have said or done and put the best possible construction on it, not the worst, or my love is a hypocritical love in word only, not in deed.  If there is a good way to take what they said, I should take it that way.  If there is a plausible excuse for a slight, I should automatically supply it.  I am not to take out my magnifying glass and search and search until aha!  I have found something I can misconstrue.

Some of the things Jesus did looked awfully wrong to some of the people who saw them!  Remember all those times he healed on the Sabbath?  Even if he could prove the Old Law said nothing about that, the Pharisees could have correctly said, “But what does it look like?”  In fact, one of the rulers told the people, “You can come to be healed six other days in the week.  Why come on the Sabbath?” Luke 13:14.  He had a point, didn’t he?  Why not choose a time when no one would be able to question Jesus’ honoring of the Sabbath?  I can hear some of my brethren making that point exactly, totally ignoring the plight of this “daughter of Abraham,” 13:16.  Don’t you think Jesus described her that way on purpose?  To that ruler she was less important than his traditions, but Jesus made sure he saw her importance in the eyes of God.

In Luke 11 Jesus was invited to a Pharisee’s home for dinner and ignored the ritual hand washing before the meal.  Since it was a ritual offered by every [Pharisee] host, there was no way he could have done it quietly—he openly refused to do it.  In Matt 12 he allowed his disciples to pluck grain on the Sabbath.  In Luke 7 he allowed a sinful woman to touch him.  In Luke 15 the Pharisees and scribes murmured, “This man receives sinners and eats with them.”  And think about this:  God even allowed him to be born only 6 months after his parents married.  Imagine what that looked like.  Imagine what people could have said—in fact what they did say—“We were not born of fornication (John 8:41).”

What 1 Thes 5:22 really means, according to the American Standard Version, is abstain from every form of evil [every shape it takes].  Wherever, whenever, and however evil raises its ugly head, I am to stay away from it.

I need to be very careful.  If I am using my magnifying glass just to find faults in you because of the way I think something might look, I need to throw it away.

Speak not one against another, brethren.  He that speaks against a brother or judges his brother speaks against the law; but if you judge the law, you are not a doer of the law, but a judge.  One is the lawgiver and judge, he who is able to save and destroy, but who are you who judges your brother? James 4:11

Dene Ward

My dog hates taking her medicine.  Whether it is the monthly squirt of heartworm medication or the monthly application of flea and tick preventive, it takes two of us to do it—one to hold her down and the other to do the dirty work.  Not even a treat at the end will dampen her withering glare when it’s over.  We have betrayed her and she makes sure we feel her scorn.

Actually, I think that is pretty normal.  Which is why, when someone I know has tried to admonish a brother and someone else says, “Now he [the sinner] is upset,” I want to say, “Well, duh.”  No one likes to be corrected.  I certainly don’t, no matter how hard the other guy tries to be nice about it.

And no one I know likes to be the corrector.  In spite of what we may hear about all those “bad attitudes” people supposedly have when they correct others, everyone I know approaches the ordeal with fear.  They know they will more than likely lose a friend, be attacked, or wind up with a damaged reputation.  Why is it that when a godly person rebukes a sinner and the results are less than optimal, that we automatically believe the sinner’s version of events, rather than the godly person’s?  That’s not even logical.

So when it comes to taking spiritual medicine, I need to remember three things:

First, be brave.  God says when I see someone in sin and I do not warn them, he will hold me accountable.  When I say to the wicked, O wicked man, you shall surely die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity, but his blood will I require at your hand.  Ezek 33:8.  Regardless of the grief it is likely to cause me, God expects me to care enough about a soul to try anyway.

Second, be charitable in my judgment of a corrector.  Believe that he did his best, and went with the best attitude.  That poor fellow took the risk of a no-win situation because he cared; he deserves my support, not my criticism.  Besides, if I thought I could do better, why didn’t I?

And finally, when it comes my turn to take the medicine, swallow my pride along with the pill, no matter how bitter it is, recognizing that someone cared enough about my eternal destiny to try to help me.  After all, medicine will make you feel better in the end, won’t it?

Brethren, if a man be overtaken in any trespass, you who are spiritual restore such a one in a spirit of gentleness; looking to yourself, lest you also be tempted.  Gal 6:1

Dene Ward

Will the Lord cast off forever?  Will he be favorable no more?  Is his mercy clean gone forever? Do his promises fail for evermore?  Has God forgotten to be gracious?  Has he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Psalm 77:7-9

            I have had some difficult days in the past few years; days when, like the Psalmist, I wondered where God was, and why He had left me.

            I get angry with myself during those times.  At this stage of my walk with Him, this should not happen any more, should it?

            But then I remember standing by my father’s bed in CCU, in a quiet broken only by low murmurs from the nurses’ station, and the beeps, wheezes, and dings of the machinery keeping him alive.  All the tubes and hoses fastened to him were almost more than I could bear to look at, and I usually found myself watching the vitals monitor.  You know what I wanted to see then?  Up and down.  Up and down.  Up and down.  The last thing in the world I wanted to see was a flat line.

            You see, the question isn’t, do you have some down days?  The question is, do you come back up?  A flat-liner is dead.  Ups and downs mean you are dealing with the vagaries of life, some days better than others. They do not mean you have no faith; they just mean you are still alive!  Certainly we shouldn’t experience the wild ups and downs of a rollercoaster ride, but the gentle waves of a rising tide is perfectly natural, waves that lap the shore steadily, reaching further and further inland so that today’s lows are higher than yesterday’s highs. 

            So when you find yourself in the valley, don’t give in. Hang on and pull yourself back up. That’s what matters.  Besides, you are not the only one pulling.  If you were, you would never make it back up.

As for me, I said in my haste,
    I am cut off from before your eyes.
Nevertheless, you heard the voice of my supplications
    When I cried unto you.
Oh love Jehovah, all you saints;
    Jehovah preserves the faithful
But plentifully pays back the proud.
    Be strong and let your heart take courage.
All you who hope in Jehovah.
     Psalm 31:22-24

Dene Ward

I don’t see like you do.  I don’t even see like those of you who have less than perfect vision.  Normal vision has never been a part of my life.  I suppose that’s natural when you have a congenital eye disorder. 

When I was a child, no one ever told my parents exactly what was wrong with me, just, “She has really bad vision.”  As a teenager I began to figure out that it was worse than I thought when my doctor allowed all the student doctors to examine me and give their opinions, then sat back and told them why they were wrong.  Then after I married and we moved out of state, I actually had a doctor tell me he wished I had never walked into his office.  I never did again.

So how do I see?  That groundbreaking surgery on June 13, 2005, which has saved my vision for six extra years now, has left some interesting effects. Depending upon the day, the light, the internal pressure at any particular moment, I have double vision, tunnel vision, blurry vision, foggy vision, white reflections that block most of the view, ghost images, black specks, pale yellow splotches, starbursts, gold concentric circles, a fish-eye lens effect, spinning black and silver pinwheels on the periphery that move toward the front—and shaky equilibrium!    .

But I think that makes me understand Jesus’ statement in Matt 6:22 better than most:  The lamp of the body is the eye; if therefore, your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.

Jesus is talking about focus.  What do I focus on, this physical life or the spiritual?  The immediate context is the contrast between spiritual treasures and earthly treasure (v 19,20), God and mammon (v 24), the concern for physical needs versus righteousness and the kingdom (v 31-33). 

I often become distracted by things that get in the way of my vision.  I am down to one eye I am still legal to drive with now, and concentration on the road is important.  I have to consciously make an effort to ignore the specks, the splotches, the circles, the starbursts, the reflections, and on days when the blur is too much, I simply cannot drive if I want to avoid a mishap. 

In the same way it is easy for our spiritual “eye” to become distracted by all the things in front of us, by a concern for wealth, acceptance, and security, but also by necessities like food, clothing, and shelter--things which certainly are not wrong in themselves.  But when that is the thing we focus on, our eye is no longer single but, as Jesus plainly says in verse 23, “evil.”  Sooner or later we will have a spiritual “wreck.”

That is probably where Satan gets the majority of us—we have to provide for our families.  Worrying about that can actually make us do more than we need to, perhaps even push us over into a covetous attitude of always wanting more, not relying on God, and putting Him and his kingdom so far down on the list that we never even get to it any more.  And that means that our “eye” is no longer light but darkness, making us see things in ways that deceive us—we can serve God while we serve this world and its treasures, can’t we?   

Jesus appeals to our common sense.  Two different things cannot be the “most” important.  We have to make a choice—which one comes first?  Which one do we focus on?  Whom do we serve, God or mammon?  

Take it from someone who knows—double vision doesn’t work.

Lay not up for yourselves treasure 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 consume, and where thieves do not break through and steal, for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.  The lamp of the body is the eye; if your eye is single, your whole body shall be full of light.  But if your eye is evil, your whole body shall be full of darkness.  If therefore, the light that is in you becomes darkness, how great is the darkness!  No man can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or else he will hold to one and despise the other.  You cannot serve God and mammon.  Matt 6:19-24

Dene Ward

I had sat there for hours like I always do, occasionally undergoing a test or other procedure, waiting for the doctor to finally reach my chart, along with a dozen or more other patients who also sit for hours every time we go to the Eye Clinic.  But this time was different.

An older woman and her husband sat next to me.  As often happens, we began to talk, usually about how long we have been waiting, the longest we have ever had to wait, and the various distances we all travel to see this world renowned, and incredibly skillful doctor we share.  Then she said four words, “I have a shunt,” and everything changed.

My head whirled around, riveted to her face and especially her eyes.  “You do?”

“Yes, two actually.”

“I have one, too,” I said, excitement creeping into my voice.

Her eyes instantly lit up.  “You do?” and there followed an hour of, “Do you have trouble with depth perception?  Do you see circles?  Does it ache?”  One question followed another, both of us nodding to one another and saying, “Yes, yes. Me too!”

Finally someone understands, finally someone knows how I feel (both of us were thinking). 

Someone understands how odd your vision can be; how colors have changed, how light “gets in the way;” how you can’t tell when a curb is a step up or step down or any step at all; how riding in the passenger seat makes vehicles in front of you look much closer; how many strange things can go wrong with an eyeball after what seems to the world like an easy surgery—why, you didn’t even have to stay in the hospital so how could it be serious? Someone else understands how much pain eye drops can cause, and how all those beta blockers can wreak havoc with your stamina; how careful you have to be when doing something as simple as wiping your eye because of all the hardware inside and on top of it; how inappropriate the remark, “I hope you get better soon,” is because there is no hope for better, just a hope that it will not get worse too soon; and someone else knows the feeling that any day could be the day that it all blows up.

We sat there talking like close personal friends.  Occasionally she looked over at her husband and said, “You see?  I’m not crazy after all,” and he nodded, a bit patronizingly I thought, but we had developed such a quick and strong bond that perhaps I was just feeling protective.

We were both called to separate exam rooms but when I left, I waved across the hall and wished her well.  I never got her name, nor she mine.  Strange, I guess, but we never felt the need to ask personal questions—we felt like we had known one another for years, and all because we felt the kinship of understanding what each of us was experiencing when no one else did.

No matter what you are going through today, you have a friend just like that.  God emptied Himself to become a man and experience what you experience, feel what you feel, and suffer what you suffer.  He did that precisely so He could understand.  I always knew that, but now I really know how quickly a bond can form simply because of that shared experience. 

But what if I had never responded to the woman’s simple statement about a shunt?  What if I had just sat there and done nothing?  That bond would never have formed.  It takes a response to the offer to gain the reward.  It takes a willingness to open up and share with the Lord the things you are feeling.  Yes, He already knows, but you will never feel the closeness of that bond until you share with Him as well.

That day it felt like I had found, not a new friend, but a long, lost friend from the past.  When it happens that fast, it can’t be a complete stranger, can it?  Why don’t you turn around and talk to the Man next to you today and find out for yourself?

Since therefore the children share in flesh and blood, he himself likewise partook of the same things, that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and deliver all those who through fear of death were subject to lifelong slavery…Therefore he had to be made like his brothers in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted, Heb 2:14-18.

Dene Ward

Last year I read a book that proved by extensive research of ancient writings that mainstream Protestant belief is completely different from the beliefs of the apostles and the first century church.  The author wrote page after page quoting men who were companions or students of the apostles, men who knew firsthand what Peter, Paul, John, and the others believed.  You would think that by the end of the book the man would have taught himself straight into restoring the New Testament church.  But no, he stopped short.  In fact, he said it was impossible to restore the real thing, and the doctrines he had chosen to attack were only a few.  He never questioned his own desire to keep a few of those “heretical” -isms for himself. 

I thought about that this morning and went on a rambling train track of other doctrines.  Finally, I hit the premillenial kingdom.  Do you realize that no one even heard of that until the mid-1800s?  How can we possibly believe that the men who stood by the Lord as He proclaimed His kingdom and the others who learned directly from them could have missed it?  How can it be that everyone in the next 1800 years was wrong? 

The problem with that doctrine is the same one the apostles first had.  They thought that the kingdom was a physical one, one that included physical armies that would destroy Rome and install a Jewish Messiah on the throne in Jerusalem.  Even they should have known better.  The prophet Jeremiah prophesied that no descendant of Jeconiah (a Davidic king shortly before the captivity) would ever reign in Jerusalem, Jer 22:28-30.  That includes the Messiah.

Finally those men got it, and they fought that carnal notion of anything physical, or even future, about the kingdom for the rest of their lives.  John made it plain that he was in that kingdom, even while he sat on the isle of Patmos writing the book of Revelation, 1:9.  We are in a spiritual kingdom, one where we win victories by overcoming temptation and defeating our selfish desires, one where two natural enemies, like a lion and a lamb, can sit next to each other in peace because we are all “one in Christ Jesus.”

The belief in a physical kingdom here on this earth?  Isn’t that a bit like an astronaut candidate stepping out of a training simulation and proclaiming, “I just landed on the moon?”  Our inheritance is far better than a physical earth--it is “incorruptible, undefiled, [one] that fades not away, reserved in Heaven,” 1 Pet 1:4.  Why should I want something on this earth when I can have that? 

But it will be newly created, you say?  No, Jesus said my reward is already created, “from the foundation of the world,” Matt 25:34.

It will last a thousand years?  Then what?  We cease to exist?  No, no, no.  I was promised “eternal life” Matt 19:29; 25:46; John 3:16; 4:14; 5:24; 6:40; 10:28; Rom 2:7; 5:21; 6:23; 1 Tim 6:12, and—well, there are dozens more, but surely that makes the point.  No wonder no one in the first 18 centuries after Christ lived believed such a doctrine.

We are supposed to have matured in Christ, to have gone beyond the belief in a material, physical kingdom, just as those apostles finally did.  Our kingdom is one in transit.  It may not look like much to the unbeliever, but we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:18.  We have a kingdom right now far greater than anything a mortal man can dream up.  It’s just that only those with spiritual eyesight can see it. 

But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable hosts of angels, and to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel…At that time his voice shook the earth, but now he has promised, "Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heavens…Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. Hebrews 12:22-29.

Dene Ward

That is how my doctor describes me:  “She’s a puzzle every moment.”  At least that’s what he says when I am present.  I wonder what he says when I cannot hear and he is once again at a loss for what to do next.

In the past few years I have learned more about eyes than I ever wanted to know.  At least one doctor has told me I can open up my own practice soon. 

I was born severely hyperopic and nanophthalmic with anatomical narrow angle.  I also have narrow angle glaucoma, as opposed to the more common open angle variety.  The zonules in my left eye are weak.  The sclera is thick.  My corneas are among the steepest ever measured at the University Of Florida School Of Medicine, and the eyeballs the smallest.  My anterior chamber is too shallow and I have a shallow retina detachment in the right eye.  Because the angles are too narrow, the vitreous humor is backing up and raising pressure.  I have had two iridotomies, four iridoplasties, two lens replacements, and two trabeculectomies, after which I went into aqueous misdirection and needed nearly half a dozen capsulotomies and anterior hyloidotomies.  There is talk of a vitrectomy and a CPC (cytophotocoagulation) procedure.  I have one piece of hardware in my right eye and three in my left, including a capsular tension ring and a 50 micron shunt, which leaves me with an elevated bleb.  My epitheliums are being “crucified,” in the doctor’s words, by the medications.  See what I mean about learning?  Three or four years ago I only knew what a couple of those polysyllabic words meant, and not many more of the shorter ones. 

But the more I learn, the more amazed I am by the complexity of the human eye, and the foolishness of so-called learned men who believe it all just “happened.”  If one part of your eye does not work right, you will probably lose your vision.  So how in the world did the eyeball evolve?  The eyeball had to exist and work right from the beginning or those blind creatures would not have survived long enough to reproduce and adapt.  Here is the real puzzle:  How can anyone believe that something as amazing as the human body just happened by accident? 

 Pardon me if I choose to be a little less foolish and believe in a Creator.  The very complexity of all creation and the various relationships that must exist for both sides to survive scream Eternal Intelligence far louder than I ever could.

Tell your children.  Tell your neighbors.  Creationists are not ignorant fanatics.  In fact, we are the only ones who make any sense at all.

For you did form my inward parts;
            You did cover me in my mother’s womb.
I will give thanks unto you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
            Wonderful are your works;
And that my soul knows right well.  Psalm 139:13, 14

Dene Ward

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Let me just say it from the start.  Shame on me.  I never thought about some of these things until they directly affected me and mine.  I am horrified, and apologize profusely to any Christian anywhere who has a physical disability for my previous lack of consideration and compassion.  Now I understand what you have been living with for years, and I hope this will help atone for some of my cluelessness.

I think, though, that this is common.  Until you have a problem yourself, you have no idea what people are living with and the things we take for granted.  Churches everywhere in this country have conformed to the Americans with Disabilities Act.  We now have handicap bathroom stalls and parking places, and ramps to at least one door.  I can’t help but wonder, though, if we would have done those things if the law hadn’t forced it on us.

I am proposing a new law for congregations everywhere:  the Christians with Disabilities Act.  It wouldn’t cost a penny.  All it would cost is a little inconvenience here and there, and maybe a little time and effort in changing bad habits.

• Article One—Prayer:  
  

All prayers should be prayed in front of the congregation (not in the pews) and behind a microphone.  People will always say, “But I talk loud enough.”  Listen carefully:  No one speaks loudly enough without artificial amplification for someone with a true hearing disability to hear and be able “to say the amen” (1 Cor 14:16).  (No, dear brother, not even you!)  In fact, in trying to speak “louder” the clarity is often lost, and that can be even worse.

It is also important that hearing disabled people be able to see not just your face, but your lips.  Many of them count on lip reading, some subconsciously, in order to help fill in the gaps their poor hearing leaves.  Therefore, speakers must stand where they can be seen, not wander around among the assembled, and those praying must keep their heads up and pointed toward the audience.  God is more likely to send you to hell for not being considerate of a disabled brother than he is for not bowing your head.

• Article Two—Power point:  

You may only use a power point presentation if you also verbalize everything that is on the screen for the vision impaired.

Many times I have been scrambling to find the song after the songleader started because he neglected to mention the number: “It’s on the power point.” 

My brothers and sisters have learned some new songs and some new verses to songs that I still do not know because I have never seen them.  They were only put on the power point.  Any extra verses or new songs that are sung with any amount of regularity should be printed out and made available, not just for the vision impaired in the congregation, but for any similarly afflicted visitors who need them as well.

In addition, preachers and teachers should be aware that anything on the power point that is important will be completely missed by those who cannot see it.  “I would go over all the verses, but you can see them up there.”  No, I can’t, and there are probably others just like me.

This “act” is obviously incomplete—there isn’t a law on record this short.  I could have added things like the length of time we ask people to stand or the number of times we expect them to get up and down, but I can only relate to the disabilities my family and I have, which is the whole point.  We must actively seek the needs of the disabled so they can participate in the public worship with us as much as possible.  That does not mean they should not be realistic.  Being disabled by very definition means there will be some limitations they (including me) just have to accept, but we do not want to be like the rulers in Jesus’ day who told them all to go away. “There are six other days in the week.  Why mess up our Sabbath?” (Luke 13:14) 

We are supposed to be trying to reach the lost.  Do we only want the healthy lost?  The more we reach, the more disabled we will have among us, and the more we will need to make some changes—perhaps even people signing the sermons and Bible classes, and a few Braille songbooks and Bibles on hand to pass out.  Of all people, Christians should be compassionate and willing to bend for the sake of those “bruised reeds” among us, (Matt 12:20).

Jesus went to the disabled and diseased; he didn’t avoid them (Matt 11:3-6).  Yes, his healing them validated his claims and made people more apt to listen, but evidently it “offended” some people too.  Could it be because those disabilities symbolized a greater disability that everyone has—sin and death?  What if Jesus had ignored that disability?

• The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor. And he rolled up the scroll and gave it back to the attendant and sat down. And the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. And he began to say to them, Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.
  Luke 4:18-21
  

Dene Ward