The last time we went to visit our grandsons, they had acquired a miniature Foosball game.  About two feet long, each player had only two rods to handle instead of the usual four apiece.  And that was plenty for rookie player Grandma.  Both boys beat me soundly, but by the end of the weekend I was at least holding my own.  Once I lost 9-7 instead of the customary shutout.  Being older and thus, more coordinated and better able to use strategy, 9 year old Silas always beat 6 year old Judah.  So I imagine it did Judah's little ego a world of good to beat up on Grandma!

              Later that first day, I also helped with piano practice.  (Nice to have a former piano teacher as a grandmother.)  Silas is far more advanced than any student his age I ever had, and it is a joy to listen to him.  The way his little mind picks up instruction is another pleasure.  After just a couple of thirty minute sessions, his playing was cleaner and his interpretation more mature.

              Judah has just begun.  His problem is confidence in his left hand.  He showed me his method book and went through about 8 pages lickety-split, but always using only his right hand, even when the top of the page clearly showed the left hand fingers needed to play the bass clef notes.  He even had to think backwards to get the correct notes played because, if you haven't noticed, your hand is a mirror image of the right.  Your thumb is your first finger on each hand and the finger numbers go from there.  So playing a note with the fourth finger of the left hand requires playing that note with the second finger of your right hand in order to play the correct note.  Thinking backwards was easy for him, but he steadfastly refused to use his left hand.  He may not have said it this way, but he clearly understood that his right hand was dominant and his left the off hand.

              Whenever I suggested he try it with the left hand, he compressed his lips and shook his little head.  Finally, this teacher of nearly forty years' experience figured out what to say.

              "Do you remember how hard it was to play with your right hand the first time you started?  But now that you have practiced it, your hand is stronger and you can do it much more easily, right?"  I finally got an oh-so-slight nod.  "So if you start using your left hand, it will get stronger, right?"  No nod this time, but he was still listening.  "And when your left hand gets strong too, you will be able to play Foosball better and maybe beat your big brother." 

              Now you could see the wheels spinning.  "How about giving it a try?" I asked.

              "I will sometime."

              "How about if I leave for a minute?"

              I didn't really get a nod, but I left the room and before five seconds had elapsed I heard the piano.  He might have played a little more hesitantly than with the right hand, but that left hand played every single piece whether it was written for right or left hand.  Do you know why that worked?  I gave him some motivation that meant something to him.

              Do you think God doesn't give us the same thing?  You can find what my college Behavior Modification class called positive and negative reinforcement on practically every page of the Bible.  From "in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die" (Gen 2:17) to "and he shall wipe away every tear from their eyes…" (Rev 21:4). 

           God finds the motivation that means the most to the people he is dealing with.  Sometimes we seem to think that we should be doing things "just because" and that will make us better than anyone else.  Please find for me any place that says that.  Even when it seems that way, there is an unspoken prod somewhere in the context—gratitude, fear, love, something that will help us accomplish the task.  Even Jesus was given motivation:  "…who for the joy set before him endured the cross…" (Heb 12:2).

        Sometimes we misinterpret the motivation.  All those descriptions of Heaven as a place of magnificent wealth?  God is not appealing to our greed.  Remember who he spoke to.  Those people understood what it meant to pray for their "daily" bread.  They didn't have well-stocked pantries, grocery stores on the corner, bank accounts, life insurance, stock portfolios, or any other of the things we have.  He was appealing to their desire for security.  A place so wealthy that gold and jewels were used as building materials and pavement meant they would never have to worry about keeping their families fed and cared for.  Walls so high meant they did not have to worry about Barbarians coming over the mountains to raid their villages.

         As with all motivations, we hope to mature so that someday we can motivate ourselves with something a little less mundane.  As our spirituality grows, so should the incentives we use to succeed.  Someday I hope Judah will use his left hand at the piano so he can be a better pianist, and not just so he can beat his brother at Foosball.  But for now?  Whatever works.

           Find what works for you.  Don't be ashamed when you need a little help along the way.  If you need a metaphorical Mt Gerizim, find it.  If you need a Mt Ebal, give yourself a little tough love.  Motivation is not a dirty word.
 
Bring the full tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the LORD of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need. (Mal 3:10).
 
Dene Ward

“Wonderful Love of Jesus” is an early 20th century hymn I remember singing often as a child.  But I must admit, I never knew what in the world was “lying around” when we sang “in vain in high and holy lays.”  Even as a musician who knows that a “lay” is a song, it took me decades to actually associate that with this hymn and understand what it meant.

             A “high and holy lay” is a sacred song, what we would call a hymn.  Even with that tidbit of knowledge it takes a little thinking to make sense of that first verse.
             
              In vain in high and holy lays
              My soul her grateful voice would raise,
              For who can sing the worthy praise of the
              Wonderful love of Jesus?
 
It is impossible for human voices, even singing the holiest songs they can compose, to praise the love of Christ as much as it deserves.  All our efforts are “in vain.”  That’s what it means.
 
           How can it have taken so long for me to figure it out when the scriptures are full of the same thought?

              Praise Jehovah. Oh give thanks unto Jehovah; for he is good; For his lovingkindness [endures] for ever. Who can utter the mighty acts of Jehovah, Or show forth all his praise? Psalm 106:1,2.

              You have multiplied, O LORD my God, your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us; none can compare with you! I will proclaim and tell of them, yet they are more than can be told. Psalm 40:5.

              My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. Psalm 71:15

              Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor?” “Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?” Rom 11:33-35.

              As you can see, it isn’t just the love of God we cannot speak adequately of, but also His wisdom, His righteousness, and His mighty works.  If ever there was a hymn of humility it is this one.  We cannot even begin to fully comprehend any of the Godhead and thus we cannot praise as they deserve.  We do so “in vain,” yet our gratitude continues to compel us to try, and so we do with songs like this one.  It may be “high and holy” but it is not equal to the task. 

              Yet now that I know what I am singing, I can hardly wait to sing it again.
 
[That you] may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Eph 3:18, 19.
 
Dene Ward

For people who are quick to quote John 4:24, that our worship must be “in spirit and in truth” and then simplify that to doing right things with the right attitude, which only begins to touch that statement, we certainly do a lot of “worshipping that which we know not” (4:22). 
 
             So tell me, when you sing “A Mighty Fortress” and you reach the second verse, what exactly do you think you are calling the Lord when you sing, “Lord Sabaoth his name?”  No, it is not “Lord of the Sabbath,” which is what I thought for many years

              Sabaoth is the Greek transliteration of the Hebrew word Tzebhaoth.  I don’t even pretend to be a Greek or Hebrew scholar, but I can read English fairly well.  The word means armies or hosts.  In fact, it can even refer to a specific campaign the army might be involved in at any given time.  It is above all a military word.  So any time you see “Lord of hosts” in your Bible you are seeing the word Sabaoth or Tzebhaoth, depending upon whether you are reading the Old Testament or the New.

              I cannot find the actual Hebrew word un-translated in any English version of the Old Testament—it is always converted to “LORD of hosts” or “Jehovah of hosts.”  But you can find Sabaoth un-translated in the older versions of the New Testament in Romans 9:29 and James 5:4. 

              And Isaiah cries concerning Israel, If the number of the children of Israel be as the sand of the sea, it is the remnant that shall be saved: for the Lord will execute [his] word upon the earth, finishing it and cutting it short. And, as Isaiah hath said before, Except the Lord of Sabaoth had left us a seed, We had become as Sodom, and had been made like unto Gomorrah, Rom 9:27-29.

              This passage is twice as powerful when you understand the meaning of the word.  The Lord, who commands all the powers and armies of the universe, could easily have wiped Israel off the earth.  But in His mercy, He spared a remnant, Isaiah says.  Paul’s point is that God has in the past come close to obliterating the Jewish race, and He will have no trouble doing it again if necessary.  That’s the kind of power He has.

              Behold, the hire of the laborers who mowed your fields, which is of you kept back by fraud, cries out: and the cries of them that reaped have entered into the ears of the Lord of Sabaoth, James 5:4.

              This passage makes you just as shivery.  Anyone who cheats the laborers of their hire should remember that the Lord of Sabaoth hears their cry and is there to defend them.  Do you really want the Lord of hosts with all His armies of angels and spiritual beings fighting you?

              Now look back at the song.  “For still our ancient foe doth seek to work us woe; his craft and power are great, and, armed with cruel hate, on earth is not his equal.”  That may well be said about Satan, but we have Lord Sabaoth on our side—the Lord of hosts, the commander of all the spiritual forces of good “and He must win the battle.” 
 
             We miss so much when we don’t care enough to research the songs we are singing.  In fact, I have heard people complain about “all this archaic language.”  If it’s in the Bible, people, we ought to care, and if we believe all those pet scriptures we always quote, we will want to “sing with the spirit and the understanding,” 1 Cor 14:24.  The context of that passage may be spiritual gifts, but the meaning in every context is that what we sing must be understandable and edifying, and that requires some effort on our parts, not simply deleting certain hymns from our repertoire because we don't understand them and won't work to find out what they mean.  All those "ignorant" people, as we call them, hundreds of years ago knew what they meant. 

              Let’s see if we can practice what we preach.
 
​The LORD of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. — Selah, Psa 46:7.
 
Dene Ward

When my studio was still open I enrolled in several professional organizations.  The one dearest to my heart was the small group here in the county.  We met seven times a year, had our business meeting, followed by a lively program one of us, or sometimes all of us, participated in, then a country potluck lunch that had us all trying to keep our eyes open as we taught that afternoon.
 
             Keeping the membership up was a constant battle.  We talked to our friends, invited neighbors, even advertised in the weekly paper.  The results barely kept up with the attrition of old age, relocation, and moms going back to work.  Oh, everyone got a kick out of the programs.  No one turned down a free lunch.  But when they found out they would have to work on fundraisers and projects, suddenly everyone was too busy. 

              Some of them paid dues, but never showed up, thinking that was at least a monetary help.  Eventually we decided that if that was all they would do, we would not approach them the next year to renew their membership.  Our state and national affiliation dues were charged per capita, and our miniscule local dues barely covered them.  What we were about wasn’t fun and games and good food.  Our stated aim was to help keep music programs in the poor rural schools and provide scholarships for worthy students to help with the costs of private lessons.  If a member did not have the same interests, he really didn’t belong anyway.

              Isn’t it that way with the Lord’s body?  Too many are on the rolls in name only.  Oh, they may come, but not for the reason the scriptures give.  Assembling with the saints is not about entertainment; it’s about provoking one another to love and good works, Heb 10: 24, 25.  It isn’t about showing off our talents and receiving praise; it’s about edification and giving God praise, 1 Cor 14:26.  It isn’t about whether I approve of what went on or who is there, it’s about communing with the Lord, Matt 26:29.  It certainly isn’t about judging others, their clothing, their words, their actions; it’s about realizing that the Judge of all is watching my worship and deciding whether or not it is acceptable.

              If all I do is sit there waiting to be catered to, or even uplifted for that matter, I have not fulfilled the real duty of meeting with my brethren no matter how many times I sit on that pew, or how long.  Walking in those doors places an obligation on me to act, not react.  Claiming membership means I need to get busy, not be served.  Putting my name on a roll means I do more than put my check in the plate. 

              Eventually my little organization no longer invited members in name only to re-up.  What would happen if the elders did that in the church?  But here is a more sobering thought—the Lord is already doing it.  Is your name still on His list?
 
And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Then another book was opened, which is the book of life. And the dead were judged by what was written in the books, according to what they had done… And if anyone's name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire. Revelation 20:12,15.
 
Dene Ward

One afternoon many years ago we stopped at an Olive Garden restaurant for a late lunch.  It was about 2:30, and it would be our only meal of the day. The place was nearly empty, so we were seated at a nice table and an eager young waitress, her order pad and pen held at the ready, came to serve us.

              “We’ll start with bruschetta,” I said. 

              “Huh?  Oh!  You mean brush-etta.”

              No, I thought.  I meant what I said, “Brrroo-skeht-ta.”

              Now, you must understand that I had been teaching Italian aria and art song for a couple dozen years at that time.  My students regularly stood before judges who marked them down on mispronounced Italian, so I had studied everything I could, constantly referencing an Italian pronunciation guide, and checking with other teachers who had sung opera.  I knew exactly how to pronounce “bruschetta.”

              I had learned some lessons the hard way.  I remember one especially embarrassing and painful occasion at state contest.  I don’t recall the exact word, but somewhere in it was the letter sequence “g-i-a.”  I had the student pronounce that as two syllables:  “jee-ah.” 

              “That’s not quite right,” the judge said, as nicely as she could.  The i turns the g into a j.  After that, it has done its work, and is not pronounced.  The syllable is simply “jah,” not “jee-ah.”

              Since we’re into Italian food at this point, let me illustrate it this way:  parmagiana reggiano cheese is pronounced “par-ma-jah-nah reh-jah-no,” NOT “par-ma-jee-ah-nah reh-jee-ah-no,” and that chef named “Giada” is “Jah-da,”  NOT “Jee-ah-dah.”  Pay attention sometime when she says her name herself. 

              Now here is my point:  who should I listen to about how to pronounce Italian—a college student moonlighting at a chain restaurant or the voice judge, a woman who has sung on the operatic stage many years longer than that waitress has been alive, singing Italian for hours at a time, and who can even translate it?

              How do you choose whom to listen to?  Who gets your vote for the one to take advice from?  Is it someone your own age who has as little experience as you do?  Is it perhaps someone older, but whose only qualification in your mind is that s/he is “fun” and “cool,” and a whole lot more so than the other old fuddy-duddies?  Is it someone who gives you the answers you want, who makes everything easy, even things that are not and should not be easy? Is it someone who makes you laugh?  Is it someone who speaks in “bumper sticker?”  Or is it someone who has experienced the ups and downs of life and come through it sane and faithful, someone who may not be able to keep an audience’s attention but can tell you from a heart of concern exactly what you need to hear—whether or not it’s what you want to hear?  Most important of all—is it someone who knows the Word of God inside out and has stuck with it even when it made his own life difficult, who tells you what God says, not what he thinks or feels?

              Mispronouncing Italian is no big deal in most of our lives, but mispronouncing the Word of God can cost you your soul.
 
Listen to advice and accept instruction that you may be wise in your latter end, Prov 19:20.
 
Dene Ward

I have read those headings in the book of Psalms for years—“To the Choirmaster”--but it has only been recently that it dawned on me that in the Old Testament specially trained Levites led, and usually sang, in the Temple worship.  If Romans 15:4 means what it says about learning from the Old Testament, we have the perfect authority for song leaders in our worship services today.  Song leaders—choirmasters.  The entire church, of course, is the choir now, but even non-musicians need a leader.

              My own father was a song leader in the church for nearly as long as he was a Christian.  All that stopped him was his health—he could no longer get enough breath or stand up long enough or wave his arm high enough to continue those last few years.  He had a clear tenor voice in his youth, not the easiest part to sing.  He knew and had led songs from a dozen hymnals.  Not only did he lead in the church, but he sang at funerals and weddings as well.  He always sang.  I do not remember a time when he was outside working on a sick car or a chugging lawn mower or a broken shelf that he was not singing—hymns, mind you, nothing else.

              We moved a few times in my youth, but even when we stayed in one place for a few years, it was not unheard of for a preacher from another congregation to show up on our doorstep asking him to consider changing his membership because they needed a song leader.  And he usually did.  Leading the song service was his bailiwick and he fulfilled it better than any man I have known before or since.  Why?  Because he viewed it as God meant it to be viewed—service to Him.  When he died my mother buried him with a Bible in one arm and a songbook in the other.

              As a music education major in college, I took classes in choral directing.  Guess what I learned?  Hardly anything new—I had learned it already from my daddy.  What I got was a new appreciation for a man who had set about to be the best he could be for his God.  Let me share a few tips with you.  Some of the details come from my choral directing professor, but the concepts I saw every Sunday of my childhood.

              1) If you call yourself a song leader, then be one--lead!  That means a host of things as you will see below.

              2) Your job as a song leader is not to show off how well you can sing by singing the most difficult songs in the book.  It is not your chance to sing your favorite hymns. Your job in the church is to enable the group to worship God in song, according to their ability.

              3) That means you need to know your group.  If you have an untrained group, few among them who know anything about music, don’t lead songs that a professional choir should be singing.  Don’t specialize in songs that require a roadmap and a compass to figure out what to sing when.  Don’t major in modes and polyrhythm.  If you do use some of these songs, then be realistic.  Untrained ears will never manage the blue notes in “Sing and Be Happy.”  Don’t be arrogant about it, as if all these ignorant people are beneath you.  A lot of them can probably do things you can’t do.
              If you have a predominantly older group, lay off the syncopated music.  They simply don’t get it.  Anyone listening on the side will think they are hiccupping as one manages it here and there, but 90% sing it straight.
              Another thing about older groups—they do not have the breath capacity of younger people.  Don’t sing songs so fast they have no time to catch a breath.  They may all pass out on you, but more than that, they simply won’t be able to worship God, which is what you are supposed to be helping them do, not hindering them.  Good leaders do not insist on what they want to do.  They do what is best for the group they are leading, whether it is what they want to do or not.

              4) Remember—this is not about you.  If you are a bass, resist the temptation to sing only low songs or to pitch them lower.  If you are a tenor, try not to pitch them too high.  Either way, you will completely fail in your mission—enabling the whole group to sing, not just you.  In fact, it is entirely possible to injure voices by having them sing a poorly pitched song.  If you cannot sing a song where it is written, then you probably ought not to be a song leader.

              5) And if you claim to be a leader you must of necessity do three things:  stand where you can be seen, beat a clear pattern, and sing loud enough to be heard.
              If you use a pattern, people need to see it in order to stay with it.  For those who do not understand the beat, or if you do not beat a pattern, they must be able to see your mouth.  That also means you shouldn’t be asking people to stand very often, particularly if you have a lot of elderly folks.  Yes, they have the option of staying seated, but guess what they see when everyone else is standing?  A row of backs—you will be hidden behind them.  How can they possibly follow you?
              As to the pattern, don’t get too elaborate.  The point where the beat actually occurs (the ictus) must be obvious, and at the bottom of the pattern, not at the top.  If you draw so many curlicues in the air that no one knows where the 1, 2 and 3 are, don’t get upset if they lag behind—it’s your fault.  
              And they do need to hear you.  If you can’t sing loud enough, stand in front of a microphone.  Don’t get “humble” and think it makes you a better servant of God not to be heard.  Leaders of necessity need to be heard—any kind of leader.  If all you do is start the song, you may as well sit in the pew.  (And if you are in the congregation, then monitor your own voice and do not try to out-sing the leader.  There is more than one way to usurp authority!) 

              6) This is worship to God, remember?  That means you should give some thought to your selections.  Would you ever walk into a Bible class, sit on the front row, scribble down a few passages and expect to teach a good lesson?  Your song service should do one of two things—either complement the sermon of the day, or teach its own lesson.  Some preachers like the songs to match their sermons; some don’t.  If he does, call him and find out what the lesson is about.  If the latter, then choose a topic yourself, or maybe a line of thought, and choose songs that teach about that topic or lead the singers in a logical progression of thought that will edify them.  Both of those take preparation.

              I could probably go on.  Just reminiscing about things I heard my daddy say over and over has already made this a bit long, though.  Here is the key--this is about your service to God.  If you remember that, you cannot help but be the best song leader you can be.
             
I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will sing your praise, Heb 2:12.
 
Dene Ward

One of the most challenging aspects of studio teaching is switching horses midstream.  Every forty-five minutes I not only had to rev up the excitement when greeting a new student, I had to change my perspective.

              I had one voice student who could scarcely carry a tune.   We spent a good deal of the lesson practicing matching pitches.  The next student was singing Italian art song and learning to trill.  One I applauded for simply getting through the song in key, the other I reprimanded for breathing in the middle of a word.  A five year old piano student would walk in with her eight bar tune, followed by a senior in high school working on a concerto.  One I praised for playing the right rhythm while only missing two notes.  The other I castigated for poor phrase shaping and improper execution of an appoggiatura.  It would have been unfair to expect a five year old to understand an appoggiatura when he didn’t even know key signatures yet.  It would have been cruel to try to teach a voice student with a challenged ear to trill.

              So I should not have been surprised at what I found in this study of faith that has consumed the past year of my life, but I was.  I wonder if it will surprise you too.  Every time Jesus said, “O ye of little faith,” he was talking to his disciples.  Sometimes other people heard it too, but if you check every account, he was addressing those who followed him daily—“ye of little faith.”  Yet the only times I could find people praised for their “great faith” they were Gentiles!

              That tells me a lot.  First, faith isn’t just a one-time first principle.  If even those who had enough faith to “leave all and follow” could be told their faith was “little,” then faith is something alive and growing.  Jesus expected it to carry them through their lives and become an asset to them, not a burden that might be “lost.” 

              Perhaps the most important thing we learn is something Jesus said in another context:  To whom much is given, of him much shall be required, Luke 12:48.  Those men had been with Jesus 24/7 for a year or more and he expected them to have matured.  I know a lot of people who like to claim they have “strong faith.”  Be careful when you do that.  God may just test your claim: “and from whom they entrusted much, they will demand the more.” 

              So examine your faith.  Is it growing?  Can you handle more adversity today than you did a decade ago?  God expects quick growth.  The people in the first century committed their lives to Him, knowing they might be thrown to the lions the next week.  I worry that too many of us commit our lives to Him expecting all of our problems to disappear in a week.  It’s supposed to be an instant fix to all earthly woes, instead of what He promised--an instant fix to our sins. 

              What exactly are you expecting of your relationship with God?  Some of us try to hold God hostage with our expectations.  “I have faith that God will…” and then we sit back confidently waiting for him to do our will, instead of waiting on His will. 

              Which would the Lord say to you:  “O ye of little faith,” or “I have not found so great faith, no not in Israel?”
 
But as for you, O man of God, flee these things. Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses. 1 Timothy 6:11-12.                                                 
 
Dene Ward
 

I was the only teacher in the county who could do it.  I was the only teacher in the county who had ever done it herself.  It’s the reason I charged more than any other teacher in the county:  I alone could prepare a student for a college audition.
 
             The school of music is not like most other colleges in a university.  You can walk into practically any other with only your high school education and do fine.  You can say, “Turn me into a teacher,” and they can.  You can say, “Prepare me for law school,” and they can.  You can say, “Make me a nurse,” and they can.  But if you are not already a musician of at least some caliber with as many years of private teaching behind you as possible, the school of music will not take you.

              My college audition consisted of two tests, a performance, and an interview.  One test was four pages of written theory that taxed my knowledge to the limit—keys, chords, terminology, the ability to analyze a page of written music and then writing four part harmony, both notated and not—in other words, writing out music that was playing in my head instead of my hands.

              Another was aural theory.  What’s that, you ask?  “Given a steady beat, notate this rhythm,” at which point the examiner tapped out a complex pattern containing every different kind of note he could fit in, plus dots and triplets.  Then followed a melody of which I was only told the first note and had to write the rest from ear alone, including correct rhythm—eight bars worth.  Then followed several chord progressions which I had to identify by ear, half a dozen or so. 

              Then the performance:  a major original piece by a recognized composer.  Mine was the Chopin Polonnaise in C minor, all 7 pages from memory.  But that wasn’t all.  I had to perform “on demand” any of the 13 major scales, four octaves in sixteenth notes at an appropriate tempo with the correct fingering, and all three forms of any of the 13 minor keys the same way, with accompanying cadences, using common tone progression.  Which were “demanded”?  E Flat Major—not too bad—and F Sharp Minor (think, girl, think!).

              And the interview?  Who is your favorite composer and what do you like about his music?  (Translation:  do you know anything besides how to play it?)  Who have you played?  (Are you a one-hit wonder—the pet student of your studio teacher because you were the only one who could learn the first movement of the Pathetique Sonata; otherwise “Fur Elise” was the pinnacle of your student career?)     

              What’s the point of all this?  When James says, “Be not many teachers, my brethren, knowing we shall receive heavier judgment,” (3:1), he wasn’t just blowing smoke through his hat.  When God listed the teaching objectives in His Son’s body, he included the perfecting of the saints, ministering, building up the body, attaining unity, becoming knowledgeable, becoming stable, learning to love, and growing up to the same height as Christ (Eph 4:11-16).  That’s what he expected teachers in the church to accomplish with their students.  If you think those do not apply to you, especially not if you only teach the preschool class, you are sorely mistaken.

              The preparation for my college audition began at my first lesson—when I learned the fundamentals of keeping a steady beat, playing one note with one hand and one note with the other, back and forth, back and forth, while my teacher played an accompaniment that made it sound like real music.  You are doing the same thing when you teach a two year old, “God made me.”  Everything else will lie on that one fundamental principle.

              How are your women’s classes?  Are you really studying the Word of God or just exchanging opinions?  Do you know more today than you did last year?  Have you changed your mind about anything?  And the most telling of all—do you handle life better than you used to?  Has your behavior in certain circumstances completely changed based on the growth of your character, or do you still fight the same old battles against sin, and most of the time, lose?

              All Bible teachers should be preparing their students to pass one final audition.  If you think those old “read a verse and comment classes” were doing that, maybe you should think twice about your ability—and responsibility—as a teacher of the Word of God.  You are not there to fill the time, to check off the fact that this church has today met it’s obligation to “study.” 

              Teaching the Word is an awesome and frightening privilege.  I pray about it before I do it because God will hold me accountable when the time comes for the audition.  If my students don’t pass, then neither do I.
 
Let a man so account of us, as of ministers of Christ, and stewards of the mysteries of God. Here, moreover, it is required in stewards, that a man be found faithful. 1 Corinthians 4:1-2
 
Dene Ward

Because of my membership in three professional organizations and their local branches, my students were able to participate in several piano and voice competitions a year.  By far their favorite was the Florida Federation’s Junior State Convention and Competition.

              We discovered this event by accident when I overheard two teachers talking about it at our District Festival, a ratings-only non-competitive event.  So I asked, and after being told about this competition for district-rated superiors, was also advised not to bother taking any students.  “There are as many as 70-80 in each category, and the winners are always students of some retired concert artist or college professor.  You’ll never win.”

              My students, despite being from the smallest county in Florida, and a rural one at that, took it as a challenge, and every year after that “going to state” was the goal for them all.  And guess what?  We did win, several times, in several events.  My students had come up with their own little uniforms—white shirt, black pants or skirt, and Looney Tunes tie—and it got to the point that I heard people in the audience say things like, “Uh-oh.  It’s one of the kids with the ties!” when they approached the piano or stood up to sing.  We were not only recognized, but actually feared!

              When you make a superior in a group event, like piano duet or piano trio, all parties must attend State in order for that group to compete.  Imagine my surprise when a parent called me a few weeks before the competition telling me that her daughter, who had made a superior in piano duet, would not be attending State Contest.  I knew the partner would be very disappointed.  Then the mother really burst my tea bag when she said, “It’s not like they have any chance of winning anyway.”

              What?  As a matter of fact, piano duet was one of our best categories.  And the partner had already won a second place the year before with another partner.  If my students had gone to State feeling like they could never win anything, they never would have.  They won because they believed they could, and worked toward that goal. 

              I have heard Christians say some things that sound just like that mother.

              “I don’t know if I’m going to Heaven or not, but I sure hope so.” 

              “I don’t know if I sinned Lord, but forgive me if I did.”

              “We’re only human.  We all sin every day.”

              Just what kind of God do these people think we serve?  A capricious, malicious God who toys with us like a cat with a mouse, or a loving, faithful God who helps us in every way He can, including giving us clear instructions for life, the means to overcome sin, and promises that are real?

              Do you think Paul went at Christianity with such a defeatist attitude?  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified, 1 Corinthians 9:25-27.  It sounds to me like he expected to win.

              Do you need a little help getting over that defeatist attitude?  Just look at these passages this morning:

              No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it. 1 Corinthians 10:13

              Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. 1 Peter 1:3-5

              Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to make your calling and election sure, for if you practice these qualities you will never fall. For in this way there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. 2 Peter 1:10-11

              In case you didn’t notice, when we have a defeatist attitude, it isn’t so much ourselves we doubt as it is God.  Satan is making inroads in our hearts and calling it “humility.”  It isn’t humility to wonder about my salvation; it’s a lack of faith and trust in a God who has furnished everything I need to know that I am saved. 

              Who are you listening to this morning?
 
Such is the confidence that we have through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God, 2 Corinthians 3:4-5
 
Dene Ward

I started my music studio when I was 16, teaching students my own teacher had chosen for me from her waiting list.  Every Saturday, 8 little faces showed up at my door for a half hour of piano time each.      
 
             Unfortunately, they were not the only little faces I saw.  Regularly, their parents would say, “I need to do a little shopping.  They can play outside,” and leave their other children in our front yard, usually far longer than a half hour.  I had been taught to respect my elders and couldn’t even imagine telling them no.  I simply sat there and watched both the small pair of hands at the keyboard and the ever increasing number of children running around the maple tree, jumping up occasionally to open the door and quiet an argument or forestall an accident.  How in the world did they ever expect me to do a good job at piano teaching?

              Once I married and moved into my own home, the free babysitting stopped.  I was an adult now, and it didn’t hurt a bit that my college professor helped us all fashion “studio policy letters” that spelled out what would and would not be tolerated.  “You are a professional with a college degree (soon, anyway) so act like one and they will treat you like one,” we were taught.  No longer was I a free babysitter for the siblings during piano lessons.

              I wonder if our poor preachers and elders need to make a policy letter.  Regularly, the members, who pride themselves on “knowing better” than the denominations about scriptural practices, expect “free babysitting” from the men God has given other duties to perform.  Read Acts 20 with me this morning. 

              Now from Miletus he sent to Ephesus and called the elders of the church to come to him, v 17.  Notice, we are talking about the elders.  In the same context, speaking of and to the same men, Paul says, Take heed unto yourselves, and to all the flock, in which the Holy Spirit has made you bishops (overseers), to feed (shepherd, pastor) the church of the Lord which he purchased with his own blood, v 28.  Did you catch that?  This is one of at least two passages where all the words for elder are used in the same context.  An elder is a pastor is a bishop is an overseer, and there were always more than one in a church.  The preacher is usually not a pastor and certainly not THE pastor of the church.

               I bet you knew that, didn’t you?  But guess what?  He is not THE minister either.  In fact, it’s a mighty sorry church that has only one minister in it.  That word is diakonos and it is used a couple of ways in the New Testament.  The word simply means “servant” but there was also an official position in the church, special “servants” who had specific duties and qualifications as well.  To make the distinction between that role and the other aspect of service, something every Christian is required to do, the translators created a new English word.  They Anglicized diakonos and made the new word “deacon.”  So sometimes that word refers to those specially qualified individuals who took care of the physical needs of the saints and the church as a whole. 

              Yet far more often, that word, and certainly that concept, is used of each individual Christian, as we minister to one another and to the world.  The problem is we don’t want to be ministers (servants).  We want everyone, especially the leaders in the church, to serve us!  How in the world can we expect them to do the job God really gave them when we want free babysitting as well?

              For God is not unrighteous to forget your work and the love which you showed toward his name, in that you ministered unto the saints, and still do minister, Heb 6:9,10.  The writer is not talking to preachers in this verse, and not talking about them in the next.  You know the house of Stephanas, that it is the firstfruits of Achaia, and that they have addicted themselves to the ministry of the saints, 1 Cor 16:15.  Could anyone accuse us of being “addicted” to serving?

              Anyone who serves is a minister.  Some seem to have special abilities and perhaps we could even say they have “a ministry.” And having gifts differing according to the grace that was given to us, whether prophecy, according to the proportion of our faith; or ministry, to our ministry; or he that teaches, to his teaching; or he that exhorts, to his exhorting: he that gives, with liberality; he that rules, with diligence; he that shows mercy, with cheerfulness. Rom 12:6-8.  Some have people in their homes more than others; some teach better than others; some have a special ability to relate to the young people; some seem to know exactly what to say when people are in trouble.  Some of us just do what needs to be done when we see the need.  All of us are supposed to be ministers in one way or another, and we should all reach the point that we don’t need a babysitter any longer. 

              When someone asks you who the minister in your church is, tell them it isn’t one man.  It isn’t even someone else.  It’s supposed to be YOU!
 
But Jesus called them unto him, and said, You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones exercise authority over them. Not so shall it be among you: but whosoever would become great among you shall be your minister; and whosoever would be first among you shall be your servant: even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.  Matt 20:25-28.
 
Dene Ward