A long time ago my piano teacher organized her students into something called a junior music club, and one year I served as president.  Because we students were members of this club, we were eligible to participate in several special events and recitals, including something called “the Festival” where our performances were rated by a judge, who also gave helpful comments and encouragement.

              Twenty years later I joined a local chapter of the Florida Federation of Music Clubs and eventually attended one of their State Conventions.  As I watched, listened and learned, all the pieces began to click into place.

              FFMC is a group of “senior clubs.”  Unlike a professional organization, parents of students and music lovers in the community are allowed to join, along with the independent music teachers, which greatly increases your volunteer pool as you try to spread the love and appreciation of music and support music education in your communities. 

              Each teacher in the local senior group was supposed to organize her students into a junior club.  My teacher, whom I later discovered had been a State President of FFMC, did exactly that.  Here is the genius of that plan—you are growing your own replacements, teaching them what the organization is about, making them as useful as possible in whatever capacity they can manage at their various ages. 

            Unfortunately, few teachers did anything more than put their students’ names on a roster so they could take advantage of the privileges of membership.  Responsibility was never taught. And worse, the senior division, all the way to state level, did not use their younger members, even though they held “state elections.”  My son Nathan, who was also my student, was elected state president of the junior division in his senior year of high school, but I had to suggest, recommend, and finally push for him and his fellow officers to be used as real members.  No one had ever thought of that, which is probably why I did not at first recognize FFMC years later.  No one had taught me the ropes.  As a student I was a member in name only.

              The same thing happens in the church.  We look at our young people and call them “the future of the church,” and then sit back and assume that someday in that future they will “grow up in all things unto him” (Eph 4:15). 

              Here is the problem:  We treat baptism like flea dip for our dogs.  We get our children wet and say, "Whew!  Got rid of all those sins, now they're safe."  But Romans tells us that when we are baptized, we are raised to walk a new life.  Something has changed.  Do they know that?  Can young children even articulate what needs to change about themselves?

              Jesus says you don’t make a commitment to Him until you count the cost.  Have we helped them count the cost of discipleship to the Lord?

              Colossians tells us that we are raised from baptism to "walk with him."  "Walk" means a lifetime not a moment.  Are they old enough to even comprehend that sort of commitment?

              1 Corinthians 12 says baptism makes them “members of the body” (I Cor 12:13).  If they aren’t ready to be working members, committed servants who put others before themselves, then they aren’t ready to be baptized.
If all we teach them is that they must be baptized or they can't go to Heaven, all we have done is terrorize them, and shame on us.  It is simple to indoctrinate a child well before he is able to count the cost of changing his life, make a lifetime commitment and actually begin serving.  The New Testament knows nothing of junior members in the church; babes, yes, but even babes participate in on-the-job training, and most of the "babes" we see in the New Testament are physically adults.  This is the point:  Either they are members or they aren't according to Corinthians.  Consider the following.

            A working member does more than read the Scripture and pass the plates.  For one thing, what about the young ladies?  These young people may not have the deep knowledge and wisdom to participate in every aspect of the work, but they should all be able to serve the Lord’s body.  Teach them how and expect it of them.  Or else do not baptize them.

              Take them visiting with you—the sick, the lonely widows, even the bereaved.  If you don’t think your child can handle that, then think again about whether he was really mature enough to commit.  Have them help clean the houses and do the yard work for those who no longer can.  Keith had a stroke one year in the middle of leaf season.  Half a dozen young high school men came to our home—a thirty mile drive—and raked all morning.  Another group helped unpack when my mother moved, and another helped clean.  They were thrilled to help, returning to me again and again with, “What should I do now?”  These young people are obviously ready to serve.

              Teach them to take responsibility for their own Bible study.  That’s what a committed disciple does.  Expect them to not only do their class lessons without being told, but to develop personal study habits.  If you always have to remind them, are they really as devoted to the Lord as their baptism should have shown them to be?  If you are making excuses, especially in regard to their age, then once again you may be admitting that all you did was scare your child to death, not make them dedicated disciples.

              Take them to the extra Bible studies with you.  I do run a Tuesday morning Bible class for the women, but I also hold one on the third Sunday afternoon of the month for those who have secular jobs or other daytime commitments—like high school and college.  I have had teenagers as young as sixteen take part.  They do their lessons and comment almost as freely as the older women. 

              Turning your baptized offspring into working members will also do this for you—if I expect to teach my child what it means to be a member of the Lord’s body, I need to be showing them how myself.  Nothing made me a better Christian than having that red, wrinkled, squirming infant placed in my arms.  The same thing should happen when your child becomes a babe in Christ. 

              And speaking of babies, do you know why we have adult infants in the church?  Because we scared the innocent to death instead of teaching them early enough about conversion, service, and commitment.  There may be no better way to ensure the demise of the body of Christ than turning it over to the coddled who were taught that baptism was only about escaping Hell.

              Don’t call your young people by that unscriptural term, “the future of the church.”  Either they are members of the body or they are not.  Prepare them.  As the old saying goes, the future is now.
 
For in one Spirit were we all baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether bond or free; and were all made to drink of one Spirit. 1Cor 12:13

And all that believed were together, and had all things common; and they sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all, according as any man had need. And day by day, continuing steadfastly with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread at home, they took their food with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God, and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to them day by day those that were saved. Acts 2:44-47
 
Dene Ward

             I’ve done it and I bet you have too.  You turn to Acts 2:38 and read, “Repent and be baptized for the remission of sin.”  It’s a simple math equation.  Repent + be baptized = remission of sin.  I’ve shown it to my classmates in high school, to my neighbors, and even to my bosses.  It amazes me that they can say, “I don’t see it that way,” just as it amazes you.  I shake my head and say, “I’m not seeing it any way.  I’m just reading scripture,” and still they ignore it and go on their way.
           
              Guess what?  We do the same thing.

            Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world. Jas 1:27

            Here’s the math in that one:  visit the fatherless and widows + keep yourself unstained from the world = pure religion.  Let’s simplify it even more:

            Take care of the needy + live a moral life = pure religion.

            Do you know what we do?  We go to church on Sunday.  If we are especially spiritual, we don’t do the big bad sins—we don’t lie, cheat, steal, or commit adultery.  But when was the last time you just spent an evening visiting, for example, a lonely widow?  Yes, “visit” in that passage stands for more than just dropping by.  It means seeing to their needs too, but let me tell you something.  They need a visit a whole lot more than we seem to think they do.  Not a call, not a card—a visit.  They need companionship, something you take for granted and even try to get away from occasionally. 

            Older people love to have someone to talk with.  They love to have someone actually sit and listen to them as if they were more than something taking up space.  They love for young people to ask them questions, to ask for advice, to ask about the “olden days.”  Young people make them feel young again too.  They will talk about that visit for weeks, that’s how much it means to them.

            They used to be young.  They lived every bit as exciting and busy a life as you do.  They’ve been through things you never experienced and have come through with their souls and sense intact.  You would do well to take what they say with more than a grain of salt, and use it.

            So remember your math.  No matter how many sins you successfully overcome, no matter how “unstained” you are, if that’s all you have, you still do not have pure religion.  No more than your unbaptized friends and neighbors have remissions of sins!
 
But if anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth. 1John 3:17-18
 
Dene Ward

My sister and I stood near the end of the long pier that jutted into the Gulf, a steady breeze blowing our hair across our faces, the hot sun pounding our shoulders as only a Florida sun can.  The planks beneath our sandaled feet were thick and gray, old enough to have splintered on the surface here and there but still solid, only a faint vibration when anyone walked past us.  The waves rolled in, small and steady, splashing the pilings beneath us and sprinkling us with salt spray.
            We had cane poles that day, no fancy rods and reels—just throw it in the water and pull it up when the fish bites.  And all of a sudden one did.  At 11 and with very little experience in the sport, it felt like a monster and I am sure I must have squealed.  Suddenly I was surrounded and a hand helped me pull the thing up.
            “What is that!?” I asked no one in particular.  It was the ugliest thing I’d ever seen, about 5 pounds worth of ugly.
            A man I didn’t know laughed.  “It’s a cowfish,” he said, but actually the profile looked more like a pig’s than a cow’s to me.  He advised me to throw it back and I did—the only fish I ever caught.
            Fishing is a common theme in the Bible—and I bet you’re thinking of the gospels.  But Amos, Jeremiah, Habakkuk all used that metaphor too.
            ​The Lord GOD has sworn by his holiness that, behold, the days are coming upon you, when they shall take you away with hooks, even the last of you with fishhooks. Amos 4:2
            “Behold, I am sending for many fishers, declares the LORD, and they shall catch them. And afterward I will send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain and every hill, and out of the clefts of the rocks. Jer 16:16
            You make mankind like the fish of the sea, like crawling things that have no ruler. ​He brings all of them up with a hook; he drags them out with his net; he gathers them in his dragnet; so he rejoices and is glad. ​Therefore he sacrifices to his net and makes offerings to his dragnet; for by them he lives in luxury, and his food is rich. Is he then to keep on emptying his net and mercilessly killing nations forever? Hab 1:14-17
            The prophets use the metaphor of God’s people being caught by a net or hook and carried into exile.  It was a fearsome image, one far removed from the picture we might have of a quiet man meditatively casting his line into a babbling brook. It takes Jesus to turn that scary prophetic metaphor on its ear.  Yes, we are “fishers of men,” but whereas the Assyrians and Babylonians made captives of those they caught, Jesus sets us free.
            For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. Rom 8:2.  Free from the law, free from sin, free from the lusts of the flesh, free from death.  How could we be any freer?
            And it doesn’t really matter to him how ugly a fish we are.  Unless we struggle in his hands, he won’t throw us back. 
 
So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” John 8:31-32
 
Dene Ward

Two year old Silas has a funny way of asking us to put him down.  “Oh the down,” he says wistfully with a sigh that communicates far beyond his years.  If we don’t do it fast enough, he squirms to the point that we put him down in self-defense.  At nearly thirty pounds now, he is getting a little too heavy for this grandma to handle without his cooperation.  The eye surgeon probably wouldn’t be too happy either.

            I would hold him longer if he would let me.  I would hold him all day and all night.  I can’t get enough of holding him, in fact, but I don’t want to make him stay in my arms.  Holding a prisoner is not the same as holding a cherished grandchild.

            Too many folks have the wrong idea about the security of the believer.

            My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: and I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, and no one shall snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand, John 10:27-29.

            As long as we stay in God’s hand, we are safe.  He will not allow us to be tempted more than we can stand.  He will give grace that not only forgives our sins, but helps us through the storms of life.  Nothing can separate us from the love of God, Paul reminds the Romans in 8:39.  There is your security of the believer.

            But God will hold no prisoners.  As soon as we start squirming, as soon as we wistfully sigh, “Oh the down,” he will let us go.  Unlike aging grandparents, he could hold on to us, but God wants a child who wants to be in his arms, not one who kicks and screams and begs to be let go. We will have no one to blame but ourselves if we lose our souls. 

            For if, after they have escaped the defilements of the world through the knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the last state has become worse for them than the first. 2 Pet 2:20.
            You know what?  Many times after I put him down, Silas comes running back.  “Grandma!” he says with arms held up high, and I will pick him up gladly, even if my back does complain a bit.  There is yet another bit of security.  God will pick us up when we come back, eager to be held again in his loving arms.  It is entirely up to us whether we stay there.
 
Who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time, 1 Pet 1:5.
 
Dene Ward

The kids were on the way that day.  Most important of all, Silas was.  Keith did not want me to wear myself out before he even got here so he said, “Don’t do anything--rest.  You have a grandson coming.  Besides, he’ll just make a mess anyway, so why bother spending time cleaning up?”

            Pondering that, I realized that God didn’t think that way.  He made a beautiful garden for his children.  He made everything perfect.  It was all “very good.”  What if he had said, “They’re only going to make a mess of it anyway, so why should I bother?”

            He bothered for the same reason I did—love.  He wanted his children (and grandchildren) to walk with him in a clean and pretty place, a place they would enjoy being and maybe want to stay just a little longer. 

            So I did spend some time sweeping floors, putting up breakables, setting out the little wooden rocking horse, stuffed animals, and crayons, and filling the cookie jar with homemade cookies. 

            God did all of that for us too, in a metaphorical sense, hoping we would like the place so much that we would want to stay as long as possible.  Yes, I know.  He had a plan just in case we made a mess, but I keep a broom and a mop too.  So?

            Sometimes looking at how God might view things in the same way we might look at them helps us to see how he feels.  Sometimes knowing the pain we might have felt if we were on the receiving end of selfish children can make us be just a little bit better.  Knowing the trouble we go to because we love our children and grandchildren so much shows us just how much we can hurt an All-Powerful Being.  That’s what makes the true God so different from the gods of myth.  He is willing to be hurt by us.  He will make himself vulnerable on our behalf.  The next time you go out of your way for special guests in your home, and it is neither noticed or appreciated, remember how God feels when you do the same to him.          

            Today, enjoy the special things God has made for you, and be sure to thank him.  Someday he wants to walk with us again in that perfect place he has prepared “from the foundation of the world,” and this time there won’t be any messes to clean up.
 
Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matt 7:7-11.
 
Dene Ward

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
I am not noted for my patience unless you count the fact that bodies are not strewn in my wake through the day. I am no more patient with myself than with others. I have a 3 way plug on the end of the drop cord that comes to the carport from the shed. It runs the blower and, on summer mornings, the 18" fan that cools us and keeps the bugs blown away while we have our third cup of coffee. So, today, I needed it for the blower and instead of unplugging the fan, I unplugged the drop cord from the 3 way--for about the 43rd time in the last month. "YOU WOULD THINK YOU WOULD KNOW BETTER BY NOW!!” I muttered....well, given my hearing and that I had ear-plugs in to preserve some of the remainder of it from the blower, who knows how loud I was. As I plugged it back in and began blowing off the screened porch and carport, I thought that perhaps, just maybe, now and then, God feels that way about me--"He ought to know better than that by now!"
 
I can quote a lot more scripture than I can live: I have known the line, “as we forgive those who trespass against us,” for about 55 years. Yet I pray forgiveness of things I knew better than to do and get impatient with people who merely do irritating things in traffic.

I pray he just plugs me back in and proceeds with whatever chore I am suitable for.

Maybe, I need to remember that with others? I suspect I would have fired a worker who made the same mistake that many times? How about the brethren?
 
Maybe I need to quit praying or get real about being patient?
 
 
​For if you forgive others their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you, ​but if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses. Matt 6:14-15
 
 
Keith Ward

I sat by the window today and marveled at the birds that had come to my feeder—the usual cardinals, titmice and chickadees, plus two kinds of doves, a wren, four catbirds, dozens of sparrows, a small flock of brown-headed cowbirds, a painted bunting, two goldfinch couples, a few pine warblers, a yellow-rumped warbler, new to the group this year, and a hummingbird buzzing above them all at his own special watering hole.  All these on the same day and that’s not all just in the past week.  We even had a ring-nosed gull drop by yesterday.

            What may be the most satisfying is seeing those we can recognize from times past.    Remember the cardinal with the broken wing?  (Check the July 2014 archives.)  He kept coming back for well over a year.  It has only been the past month or so that we haven’t seen him and it may well be he has lived out his lifespan, but he lived it far longer and better for coming here to fill his plate, heal, and grow strong again.  His wing was never quite straight after his mishap, but it grew plenty strong enough to fly him where he needed to go. He wasn’t the first sad and sick bird we have had.  If you have been with me awhile, you may remember the one-legged sparrow, and the brewer’s blackbird that was left behind when her flock flew northwest again—she was too sick to join them.

            I wonder what God sees when He looks out on His “feeder.”  We forget, I’m afraid, what our lives were like when we decided to take Him up on His offer.  It is too easy, when life has taken a good turn and we are so much healthier in spirit, to think it might possibly have been our own doing.  He is the one who comforted our mourning, who gave us a “garland” to replace our “ashes,” who took away our “spirits of heaviness” and gave us the “oil of joy” and a “garment of praise” (Isa 61:2,3) to replace the sackcloth life had thrown on us.

            The Lord came looking for us at the worst time of our lives, and because of that we now live in the best times, no matter what our physical circumstances may be.  We were all bruised reeds, but with tenderness and care He granted us the greatest of gifts, a spiritual healing that is eternal.  It is right to praise Him, to stand in awe, and to marvel.  But once in a while it wouldn’t hurt to remember the broken wings, the near fatal spiritual illnesses, the missing pieces of our hearts that He restored and what it cost.  Maybe our healed wings stay a little bent just to remind us where we were and what might have been without His amazing love.

            And always, we need to look for the others who need Him too.  There is room on the feeder for as many weak, sick, and dying birds as we can bring with us.  And then He can look with satisfaction one day on those who laid their burdens on Him, who allowed Him to care for them, who accepted His offer of love and grace.  And together we can marvel for Eternity.
 
Behold, my servant, whom I uphold; my chosen, in whom my soul delights: I have put my Spirit upon him; he will bring forth justice to the Gentiles. He will not cry, nor lift up his voice, nor cause it to be heard in the street. A bruised reed will he not break, and a dimly burning wick will he not quench: he will bring forth justice in truth. Isa 42:1-3
 
Dene Ward

Was there ever a church with as many problems as Corinth?  We can easily make excuses for them.  Corinth was one of the most sinful cities in the world at the time.  In fact, “Corinthian” was an adjective describing a licentious lifestyle.  Certainly it was difficult to be a Christian in such an environment.  I have said before that if a person could remain pure in that city at that time, anyone can live a pure life today.
            Yet the apostle Paul obviously expected more out of them, and he told them their faults plainly. 
            They were factious (1:10-14); they were carnal and immature (3:1-3); they were arrogant (3:18,19; 8:10); they were selfish (6:7; 14:26-33).  They had little regard for one another and put their own interests ahead of the mission God gave them as His people (6:5-8; 8:9-13).  They glorified sin in their presence instead of removing its leavening influence so their worship could be pure before God (chapter 5).  They even corrupted the memorial meal that should have unified them, reminding them that they all came from the same humbling circumstance of sin, dependent solely on the grace of God for their salvation, (11:17-34).
            Yet despite all this, how does Paul end that first letter of rebuke?  With hope.  Yes, they had been “fornicators…idolaters…adulterers…effeminate…abusers of themselves with men…thieves…covetous…drunkards…revilers…extortioners,” but they had also been “washed…sanctified…justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ” (6:9-11).  Paul scolds them over and over, but he ends with the hope that they could change their lives, overcome their problems, and be “raised incorruptible” on that final day (15:52).
            Paul told even these bad boys and girls of the New Testament that they could live righteously and inherit eternal life.  Doesn’t it make you stop and think a minute before you consign someone to Hell by refusing them the opportunity to even hear the gospel because of their sinful, problem-filled lives?  Doesn’t it make you cringe a little at how carelessly we label congregations of God’s people “sound” and “unsound?”  And most important of all, doesn’t it give you hope when you fall yet again and have to pick yourself up and repent?
            Most of us would have simply bypassed Corinth if we had been making Paul’s itinerary for him.  To paraphrase Nathanael, “Can any good thing come out of Corinth?”  Yet Paul knew that where there is the greatest need, there will be the greatest response.  It may be tough going.  It may be that these folks will be “high maintenance Christians,” people who need a little more help, a little more support, and a whole lot more of our time, but who is to say that one soul is worth more than another?  We all stand before God as helpless sinners.
            And God holds out for us the same hope he gave those early Christians who had to fight their upbringing in a libertine culture even worse than ours. 
            O death where is your victory?  O death, where is your sting?  The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law, but thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.  Wherefore my beloved brethren, be steadfast, unmovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, for as much as you know that your labor is not vain in the Lord, 1 Cor 15:55-58.
 
Dene Ward

My writing teacher taught me that the final sentence can make or break a story, essay, or speech.  What she actually said was, “Too many people don’t know when to shut up.”  She told us to make the last line, or at least the last phrase, short and punchy so it would stick in people’s memories for at least a while after they put our writing down or walked away from our speeches.  If you keep on going, you weaken the impact of what should have been the last sentence, and no one will remember it.

            There have been times the last sentence took me days to come up with.  I ended the essay just to get it finished, then walked away and turned the thing over in my head until finally, as long as a week later, I came up with that punchy last line.  There have also been times when I never found it—I just hoped I hadn’t ruined the whole thing with my failure. 

            The last word of our lives is just as important.  Sometimes we want to rest on our laurels, laurels that become bigger to us as the years go by, so big we often get lost in their branches.  I once heard an old retired preacher who could not sit in the Bible class without reminding everyone of all he had done in the past.  The subject at hand made this particularly ironic.  It must have finally struck him that everyone else was talking about their past mistakes and the things they had learned in life which had helped them develop humility.  He finally spoke up with, “Oh, as I became older I realized I had been wrong about a few things when I was young—but not very many!”  Since we were visiting and he was quite elderly, I went away hoping that did not turn out to be his last word before the Lord.

            We cannot count on things we did long ago to save us; we cannot choose what will be our last word and expect God to forget what came after.  God told Ezekiel, When I say to the righteous, that he shall surely live; if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered; but in his iniquity that he has committed, therein shall he die, 33:13.  God expects us to continue doing right as long as we live.  He expects us to continue serving others in whatever way we can.  Those right things may change as our circumstances do; our “serving” may reach the point of simple example as our bodies deteriorate.  We may actually become the tool to allow others to serve—saying “yes” when others offer to help is just as important, and humble, as offering the help.  For many of us, “Thank you,” to a loving brother or sister may be the last words we utter.

            God, the Righteous Judge, will be the one with the last word in our final judgment.  Nothing I say or do can change the fact that I have sinned and deserve eternal punishment, but the grace of God gives me hope.  The last word I want to hear before I leave the realm of Time and enter Eternity is, “Forgiven.”
 
This is the end of the matter; all has been heard: fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole of man, Eccl 12:13.
 
Dene Ward

“Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps, Matt 25:1-4.
 
            Every time we hear this parable the same point is made—it was foolish to have no oil for their lamps.  But one thing has always struck me from the outset of this little story.  Why were they carrying lamps in the first place if they didn’t also pick up some oil?  It’s like carrying a gun in a dangerous place but no ammunition.  It’s like carrying a hair dryer to a primitive campsite.  It’s like peeling a five pound bag of potatoes with no pot to cook them in.  Why bother? 

Does that mean the story isn’t valid?  Nope.  I see those same foolish people every Sunday.  They get up early to come to church and sit on a pew and a listen to the preacher—but they have made no commitment to God, to their Lord, or to their brothers and sisters.  They do absolutely nothing all week long—no Bible reading, no praying, no serving.  They live exactly the way they want to live, and usually don’t get caught.  Or maybe they are relatively moral, having been taught by their parents to be good people—not because God requires righteousness of His servants.  In fact, God is the last person on their minds in every decision they make.

What’s going to happen when the trumpet sounds?  They will suddenly realize they did not bring any oil.  They carried a lamp every Sunday and somehow thought it would light itself or give off light simply because it was a lamp, or who knows what irrational reason. 

You know that word translated "foolish"?  It means “stupid.”  It’s the word moros.  Look familiar?  I think it’s the word we get “moron” from.  Don’t be a moron.  If you plan to carry a lamp, put some oil in it.  Maybe carry some extra.  Sitting on the pew never has saved anyone, and it won’t save you.
 
​“What to me is the multitude of your sacrifices? says the LORD; I have had enough of burnt offerings of rams and the fat of well-fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. “When you come to appear before me, who has required of you this trampling of my courts? Bring no more vain offerings; incense is an abomination to me. New moon and Sabbath and the calling of convocations— I cannot endure iniquity and solemn assembly. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hates; they have become a burden to me; I am weary of bearing them. When you spread out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen; your hands are full of blood. ​Wash yourselves; make yourselves clean; remove the evil of your deeds from before my eyes; cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause, Isa 1:11-17.
 
Dene Ward