1. I come to the garden alone,
   While the dew is still on the roses,
   And the voice I hear falling on my ear
   The Son of God discloses.
   • Refrain:
     And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
     And He tells me I am His own;
     And the joy we share as we tarry there,
     None other has ever known.
2. He speaks, and the sound of His voice
   Is so sweet the birds hush their singing,
   And the melody that He gave to me
   Within my heart is ringing.
3. I’d stay in the garden with Him,
   Though the night around me be falling,
   But He bids me go; through the voice of woe
   His voice to me is calling.

 
This hymn was one of my Daddy's favorites, but I must admit that, as a child, I never really knew what it meant.  I finally figured out my own context, which we will get to later, but it is a far cry from the meaning the author intended.
      Charles Austin Miles was a pharmacist, and evidently a staunch Methodist.  One morning he was reading John 20, where Mary Magdalene comes upon the risen Lord.  In his own telling of how he came to write the song, he suddenly pictured himself as standing there with them watching their interaction as if he, too, were part of the action in a vision "sent from God."  Afterward he wrote the hymn, "by inspiration of the Holy Spirit," he believed.  I have my doubts about that and the vision, but he certainly wrote a beautiful song.
      When someone initially tried to have it included in the official Methodist hymnal the first time, it became apparent that people either loved it or hated it.  The haters made accusations that included "too erotic," which stunned me until I realized the problem. 
      As a musician we are taught the various historical eras of music—Ancient, Medieval, Renaissance, Baroque, Classical, Romantic, and then the Twentieth Century which has so many styles it is difficult to classify it, and the 21st?  It may take a few more years for it all to settle out.  Those same eras and characteristics were true of literature and art. 
     The Romantic Era began in the first few decades of the 19th century.  Beethoven was considered a transition composer between the Classical and the Romantic, if that helps.  A lot of people, who were used to the balanced, well-ordered, and impersonal Classical Era were a little shocked at the new music and poetry that was being written.  The poetry was extremely personal and it was full of lush description.  Look through the lyrics above.  "While the dew is still on the roses."  His voice is "so sweet the birds hush their singing."  That is Romantic poetry in a nutshell.  (Remember, we are talking Romantic as in a historic style, not as in romance novels.)
      So the song is about Mary and Jesus meeting together just after his resurrection.  "The joy we share as we tarry there none other has ever known," is a direct reference to the fact that Mary was the first to see him.  At that point in time, no other person had felt what she was feeling then.  If you have sung the newer hymn "Rabboni", this is the first version.
      One line might be a little inaccurate.  It seems fairly obvious that Mary and Jesus did not stay in that garden all day long, though the third verse mentions that "the night around them is falling."  But the point Mr. Miles makes is a valid one.  For Mary to stay there would have been contrary to the Lord's purpose in appearing to her.  She was to go tell the apostles.  She was the first witness.  And as a woman in that day and culture, the fact that the gospel writers chose to use a woman as a witness adds to the evidence of truth.  Women were considered unreliable witnesses.  If the whole story were made up, surely they would have chosen a witness other than a woman.
      So what had I been thinking before this as I sang this song?  I saw the garden as a metaphor for prayer.  When I pray, I am alone with the Lord in a beautiful place, but as much as I would like to stay, I have to leave him sooner or later.  Not that I can't speak to him whenever I want to during the day, as I often do, but that formal alone time has to end.
      I really don't see a problem with thinking of the song that way.  The Lord doesn't want us down on our knees cloistered away from the world all day long.  He wants us out in it, seeking the lost, serving others, and spreading his influence.  We have to go back to "the world of woe" eventually, but while we are there, isn't the experience just as wonderful as Mary's, spending time with our risen Lord, knowing his death has saved us and his resurrection has allowed us to someday spend that time with him forever?
 
But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb, and as she wept she stooped to look into the tomb. And she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain, one at the head and one at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.” Having said this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing, but she did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher).  (John 20:11-16).
 
Dene Ward

When I did my internship as a music teacher in the public schools, I looked up one day to find my professor walking into the music room behind the fifth grade class scheduled for that half hour.  My heart sank.  I did have a lesson prepared, but it was not a wow-zer.  It taught a valid musical concept, one I could easily build on in future lessons—the first of what educators called a “unit.”  I had prepared a lesson plan with appropriate behavioral objectives.  It met all expectations and requirements.  But to me, it seemed so—well, ordinary.
            I taught that lesson twice in a row with no problems.  The students caught on quickly and I met the objectives with no difficulty.  After the second group left I approached the tall, slim, dignified looking lady, expecting her to meet me with, at best, a mediocre assessment.
            “Good job,” she said, and when my jaw dropped she added, “Listen:  they can’t all be showstoppers.  You taught an important lesson and you taught it well.  They learned exactly what you set out to teach them and they enjoyed it.”
            I learned something that day, something I keep reminding myself as I approach the computer day after day, struggling sometimes to find something to write.  Just do your best.  Turn in a good effort, be faithful to the Word God has entrusted you with, and let Him take care of the rest.
            Sometimes I hear from people telling me that what I wrote was exactly what they needed that day.  A few times it was a piece I almost deleted because I was so dissatisfied with it.  The same thing has happened to Keith.  When you preach two sermons a week, every week, you occasionally produce one just because you needed one to fill the time one Sunday morning, not because you were particularly enthralled with the subject.  Many times people have complimented those very sermons.  At least one of them led directly to a conversion.
            Many times we feel unnoticed and totally useless to the Lord.  We think we are doing nothing for God because nothing we do matters.  Nonsense.  More people are watching you than you know.  You need to learn the same lesson I did. 
             Every day can't be a showstopper.  Some days are so ordinary as to make you wonder why you exist.  You get up, you go to work, you come home and spend time with the family.  You pay your bills on time and help the neighbor with his ornery lawn mower, perhaps even mowing his yard for him.  You study your Bible, and then you hit the sack and get up and go again the next morning, an ordinary--you think--honest, hard-working Joe.
           Or you get up and down all night with the baby and barely know you are sending your older ones off to school because you are so tired.  But then you still do the grocery shopping and prepare the meals and launder the clothes.  You wash dishes and scrub floors and dust the countertops and shelves, change the sheets, then throw together an extra casserole for a sick neighbor, help the kids with their Bible lesson and then their homework, and fall into bed exhausted.
            Or you sit at home alone because you are too old and sick and frail to get out any longer, so you watch a little TV, read your Bible, call a few folks on the sick list (besides yourself), write a few get well and sympathy cards, then go to bed and start all over again tomorrow.
          And all of you wonder, what good is that to anyone?  Well, you never know, especially when you count God into the mix.  He can work wonders with the weak, the frightened, and the average.  He can take the smallest seed you plant and make a huge tree out of it.  Don’t you remember a parable along those lines?  In God’s hands, nothing you do is just filling up time.
          So get up every morning and do what you are supposed to do in the way you are supposed to do it.  Someone out there needs to see you do that, and if you do, God will take care of the rest.
 
I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase. So then neither is he that plants anything, neither he that waters; but God that gives the increase. Now he that plants and he that waters are one: but each shall receive his own reward according to his own labor. For we are God's fellow-workers...  1Cor 3:6-9.
 
Dene Ward
 

Sweetest note in seraph song,
Sweetest name on mortal tongue.
 
            Do you know what a seraph is?  I bet you have heard the word “seraphim” before and know it is a kind of angel.  But even that is not quite right.
            In English we form plurals in several different ways:  “s,” “es”, “ies”, plus those plurals that are Latin derivatives where “is” becomes “es” (analysis/analyses), “um” becomes “a” (memorandum/memoranda), and “us” becomes “i” (cactus/cacti). 
            One way to form a plural in Hebrew is to add “im.”  So there is one seraph and more than one seraphim, one cherub and more than one cherubim.  A “seraph” song is a song a seraph, or several seraphim, might sing.
            We don’t really know a whole lot about angelic beings.  I can tell you one thing, though:  they don’t look like chubby little naked flying babies with wings shooting bows and arrows!
            The only word picture I could find of seraphim is of those around the throne of God in Isaiah’s vision of chapter 6.  They are anything but “cute.”  Those seraphim had six wings.  When they spoke the threshold of the Temple shook and smoke filled the rooms.  Those creatures could hold live coals in their hands.  John said the angels around God’s throne were “mighty,” Rev 5:2.  I do not know if those were seraphim or not, but they stood in the same place as Isaiah’s seraphim. 
            As to angels singing about Jesus, is that scriptural?
            And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” Luke 2:13,14.
            Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” Rev 5:11,12.  Earlier, in verse 9, John calls what they were doing “singing.”
            So from his birth to his ascension and afterward the angels sang about Jesus.  Seraphim, cherubim, archangels, whatever--I doubt any refused, do you?
            But here is the point of the song:  what our Savior did for us is so glorious, so marvelous, so gracious and good that everyone should be singing his praises, whether “seraph” or “mortal.”
            It is sad that our books do not contain the following verse to this song:
 
            And when to that bright world above
            We rise to be with Jesus,
            We’ll sing around the throne of love,
            His Name—the Name of Jesus.
 
Isn’t it an appropriate idea that where the seraphim stand guard over the throne of God, singing, we will also stand, singing praise to the Great Physician?
 
After these things I saw, and behold, a great multitude, which no man could number, out of every nation and of [all] tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, arrayed in white robes, and palms in their hands; and they cry with a great voice, saying, Salvation unto our God who sitteth on the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels were standing round about the throne, and [about] the elders and the four living creatures; and they fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might, [be] unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. Rev 7:9-12.
 
Dene Ward

I always had themed recitals for my students, including skits and ensemble numbers.  I seldom had to hear parents complaining about boring recitals. 
One year we had one called "Mystery!"  All of the songs and piano pieces had titles like "Spooky Footsteps," "Descent into the Crypt," "Through the Night Mist," and "Dixieland Detectives."  All the students came dressed as a famous detective from TV or fiction.  We had Sherlock Holmes, Dr Kay Scarpetta, Magnum PI, Columbo, and Miss Scarlet from the Clue game, among many others.
              Nathan was home from college that week and he and I worked up a special duet.  First, I put him in his college chorus tuxedo and introduced him as the detective whose theme he and I would be performing—Peter Gunn.  Even if you have never seen the show (I never saw one until I was grown and saw it on the oldies channel), I bet you have heard the music.  Talk about modern and catchy—this one has it all.  Blue notes, syncopation, quarter note triplets against a steady eighth note beat.  You can't help but move something when you hear it.  We have played it in a couple of places since then, and it is always an audience pleaser.
              Audience pleasers.  That's a good phrase when you are talking about a concert performance.  That's what a concert is for—pleasing the audience.  That is NOT what worship is about.  Worship is about pleasing God.  I happened to think about that when a song leader I know, a trained musician, by the way, who does an outstanding job of leading, told me that he was criticized for leading "boring songs."
              First of all, who exactly is being bored?  If it's the audience, then maybe they should remember what they are doing—worshipping God not pleasing themselves.  That ought to take care of the "boring" problem right there.
              Second, why is it "boring?"  If it's because they don't have enough Bible knowledge to recognize Biblical references, nor enough depth to their thinking to understand the allusions and feel the goosebumps at some of the most beautiful poetry ever written, then they should be ashamed of themselves.  The Bible may be easy to understand, but it is not a comic book.  Nor is it a See-Jane-Run first grade primer.  The older I get, the more I love the songs that speak the Word of God in lyrics that truly make me think and keep me thinking long after the last chord has rung in the rafters. 
             Neither the song leader, the prayer leader, nor the preacher should have to try so hard to keep our attention if our worship is sincere.  If the only things that keep me interested in either the singing or the sermons and classes is laughter-inducing stories, toe-tapping rhythm, and shoulder-lifting blue notes, I may as well roll in a piano and have Nathan come with me and play a rousing rendition of "Peter Gunn."  I promise you'll like it and won't be bored.  Whether or not you get anything spiritual from it, whether or not you hear any teaching and admonishing, whether or not God is pleased with your idea of worshipping Him, is another matter altogether.
 
But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.  (Heb 5:14).
 
Dene Ward

Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!
E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee.
Refrain:
Nearer, my God, to Thee, nearer to Thee!

Though like the wanderer, the sun gone down,
Darkness be over me, my rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I’d be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

There let the way appear, steps unto Heav’n;
All that Thou sendest me, in mercy giv’n;
Angels to beckon me nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

Then, with my waking thoughts bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs Bethel I’ll raise;
So by my woes to be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

Or, if on joyful wing cleaving the sky,
Sun, moon, and stars forgot, upward I’ll fly,
Still all my song shall be, nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)

There in my Father’s home, safe and at rest,
There in my Savior’s love, perfectly blest;
Age after age to be nearer, my God, to Thee.
(Refrain)
 
              If you know your Bible, you will recognize that this song was written about Jacob's trip to Haran as he fled his angry brother Esau (Gen 28:10-22).  "My rest a stone," and "in my dreams…steps unto Heaven," are anything but vague.  We too often think of the Jacob who stole his brother's birthright and connived the blessing of the genealogy of the Messiah from his father, while steadfastly ignoring that the Hebrew writer calls Esau a profane man who for one bowl of soup sold what he later claimed to be so important.  He may have been hungry from a long day hunting, but he was not about to starve any more than we are when we say, "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."  And as far as the blessing, Isaac may have been blind, but God was not.  He knew who was receiving this most important blessing and He was perfectly happy with the choice, and that was someone other than a man whose god was his belly.  Even Isaac later recognized that.  And why?
              Read the verses above in your Bible and this is what you will see.  Jacob may have been less than we with our judgmental attitudes want our Bible heroes to be, i.e., perfect, but he learned from this dream to be mindful of God in his life, no matter where he was, not just in the Promised Land.  (How do we do outside the church building on a weekday?)  He was confident enough of this relationship that he took the initiative in making a vow.  Not even Abraham did that.  And God was confident enough in him to pass the Abrahamic covenant on through him (Gen 28:13-15).
              Jacob not only learned that God was always with him, he longed to be even closer.  How about us?  Can we truly sing this hymn and mean it?  Can we understand the "good" that comes from trials, or do we declare God to be "good" only when we get what we want?  Look at verse 4, one we never sing because I have never even seen it in any of our hymnals. 
              "Out of my stony griefs Bethel I'll raise."  Bethel, the "house of God"—Jacob was fleeing for his life, yet he realized that in that flight, he had become closer to God and raised an altar to him.  In other words, he recognized God's presence even in that time of trial.  And us?  "So by my woes to be nearer my God to thee."  Are we?  Do the struggles and trials—the "woes"--of this life bring us nearer to God, or do they chase us away, putting a dagger through our faith with statements like, "Why me?"  Do we think God owes us a life of ease and plenty because we have been faithful?  The Health and Wealth Gospel has struck again!
              Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. (Jas 1:2-4)  I may not jump up and down with glee when I suffer, but can I see beyond this all too present world to the strength I will gain through successfully enduring trials?  The enduring is the key, along with its growth in wisdom.  If we do not endure and become stronger, even the trials are a waste.  You can sit around in a gym full of barbells and never gain anything from it until you pick them up and actually exercise your spiritual muscles.
              Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name. And every day, in the temple and from house to house, they did not cease teaching and preaching that the Christ is Jesus. (Acts 5:41-42)  These people were not the sometimes neurotic sounding masochists that certain ancient Christians were, who thought physical pain was cleansing.  They knew that pain itself was not the goal, but that being worthy enough to even suffer for Christ was far superior to being honored by the world.   And they were willing to bring on even more suffering by continuing in their faithful obedience.
              And so their woes brought them "nearer to God."  How are you faring with your woes?  Are your trials working steadfastness (commitment) or do you give up at the first difficult thing that comes your way?  Are we even as good as this fellow Jacob whom we all want to malign as being less than godly?  Are we recognizing God in our lives and trying our best to grow closer to him day after day?
              Would you be willing to ask your song leader to add verse 4 to the song and sing it this coming Sunday?
 
Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Rom 5:2-5)
 
Dene Ward

All the stories my mother told me have come rushing back to me that past few weeks since her death.  One of the most special was the story of her conversion.  We could all learn a few things from this.
              Nearly a century ago, preachers often traveled from city to city and town to town, setting up tents and preaching every night for a week or more, depending on how things were going.  One of those preachers was Byron Conley, who toured Central Florida.  He was responsible for the beginning of many of the churches in that area.  One of those congregations was in a small town called Winter Garden, about 10 miles west of Orlando—at least in those days.  Now you can't tell where one ends and the other begins.
              All of my grandparents lived in Winter Garden, the typical Southern town with a train track running down the middle of the main drag, and diagonal parking in front of storefronts like Piggly Wiggly, McCormick 5 and 10, a barber shop, and a drug store complete with soda fountain.  My father's mother, Thelma Ayers, attended one of those tent meetings and was converted to the Lord, and eventually became a member of the new congregation there.  Although her husband, my grandfather, was never baptized, she taught her three sons and all of them followed in her faith.
              My daddy was the oldest.  At 17, he took his high school sweetheart to church with him.  She had been raised a Methodist, mainly because it was the closest church to the house and they could all walk.  She told me that all she heard were slow dirges on Sunday morning, so that morning when she went to church with her boyfriend Gerald, she was in for a shock.  "They sang happy music!" she exclaimed.  The first song she heard was "Heavenly Sunlight," and the day she told me that story she added, "And I want that sung at my funeral."  And we did.
              So let's consider a few things this morning.  This was a small Southern town.  As is our custom and belief, they sang a capella.  It may have been "happy" compared to the slower organ pieces she was used to, but I imagine there were a few places, especially by the end, where the music dragged a bit.  I imagine there were a few flat Southern altos and a tenor or two that stuck out like a sore thumb.  This was not a performing choir, certainly not a pro or semi-pro praise band.  So why did the singing impress her so?
           Because it wasn't just a happy song.  It was sung by happy people, people who knew they were saved and pleasing to God, people who believed they were going to Heaven, people who, despite the trials of life, knew it was all worth it.  I have heard it said that our singing can be an evangelistic tool.  It certainly was for my mother.  But if the people do not match their songs, it is just another form of hypocrisy. 
           "Heavenly Sunlight" isn't as deep as some of the other older hymns but it certainly doesn't sit in the wading pool with the babes either.  It takes a mature spiritual mindset to see the "Sunlight" even in the "deep vale" and to have the faith to know that no matter what happens He will "never forsake thee."  She could see that faith in the faces of those people and eventually it became her own faith, a faith she passed on to children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.
            Many of these thoughts ran through my head that afternoon as we sang for her the song that made all the difference in her life.  A small town southern church sang it like they meant it, and she wanted to know more about how they could do that when so few other places did.
           Would your singing begin the journey of conversion for a visitor?  It does not have to be ear-catching, toe-tapping, and rhythmically complex.  You just have to sing it like you mean it, and then live it that way too.
 
But let all who take refuge in you rejoice; let them ever sing for joy, and spread your protection over them, that those who love your name may exult in you.  (Ps 5:11).
 
Dene Ward

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