Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

God gave his name, “I AM THAT I AM” to Moses.  We commonly explain that as expressing the thought that he is the “self-existent one”. Certainly, that is true and ought to be made very clear, but I think his name also expresses that he is the one with purpose.  God always was and always will be when “always” ceases to have meaning.  Purpose goes beyond existence to the plan and the goal and the energy to complete them.

We have not always been.  But, because God breathed into Adam the breath of life to be in his image, we have the birthright of being an “i am”.  Whether we like it or not, this is true from the existence standpoint—we will always be.  That it is true from the purpose aspect is seen by the lives of those who have left God.  Without God, their life has no purpose, no meaning.  "Why?" becomes the only meaningful question and there is no answer.  Despair, seeking the latest thrill, anti-depressants, divorce, living for the weekend, drug abuse, all express that man no longer sees himself as an “i am” to God’s “I AM”.

So, are you living with purpose of a self-existent soul (but one that had a beginning) in awareness and fellowship with your source? Are you attuned to HIS plan that will grant meaning to an otherwise dreary life? Or, will your existence become a burden and curse for eternity?

You are God's offspring.  Do you wear his name?

I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people….And I will receive you, And will be a Father unto you, and ye shall be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty. (2Cor 6:16-18)

See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be called children of God; and such we are. (1John 3:1)

Keith Ward

I married a firebug and raised two more.  All the camping we have done, I am sure, was just an excuse to build and sit around campfires, and since we moved to the country we have had a fire pit from the beginning.  Once the weather began to turn, we kept the hot dog and marshmallow industries in business almost single-handedly, sometimes with all the trimmings—chili, beans, slaw—other times with just a bag of chips on the side.  After the boys went away to college, any weekend they came home, they expected a hot dog roast at least once.  From October to April my grocery list always included those all-American sausages, “Nathan’s” hot dogs, of course.

            Now that the boys are gone, Keith still likes to build a fire on cool nights.  Our partially wooded property always produces enough deadfall to keep the fires going, and even here in Florida, the weather is cool enough to make a fire pleasant, rotating yourself like a rotisserie, warming each side in turn. 

            Keith will often throw a carefully collected and dried pile of Spanish moss on the flame.  At first the fire appears smothered, but the heat gradually burns through, producing thick billows of gray smoke that seem almost tactile, finally burning clear and shooting sparks and cinders up toward the sky.  We lean our heads on the lawn chair backs to see which will travel highest and glow longest before burning out in the cold blackness above the treetops.

            Do you realize that is all an atheist believes life is? We are cinders in a bonfire.  Some of us simply dissolve in the fire.  Others rise on the updraft, some burning higher, larger, and longer than others, but burning out nonetheless, just like everyone else.  How can they survive believing this is all there is to it?  Some use that as an excuse to do whatever they want, regardless of who it hurts and the harm it causes.  Even then, as they grow older and realize the brevity of life, the pointlessness of it all takes its toll.  When a wicked man dies, his hope perishes; all he expected from his power comes to nothing, Prov 11:7.

            But children of God know better. We are not just nameless cinders in the updraft of a brief blaze.  We have not only an eternal existence to look forward to, but a purpose here as well.  Very few of us will rise high enough and burn long enough for many to notice and fewer to remember, but we can all give warmth and light in a cold, dark world.  Maybe working so hard that we dissolve in the flame without ever rising above it is the better end.  How much warmth and light did you ever get out of a single spark anyway?

            What are your plans for today?  Are you so busy you get tired just thinking about it?  And at what?  Is it something that will warm someone’s heart and light their way?  Even things that don’t seem likely can be made into an opportunity to do good.  If they cannot, maybe we should think twice about doing them.  We are all sparks in the fire, or else we are just trying to put it out.
 
You are the light of the world.  A city set on a hill cannot be hid.  Neither do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on the stand, and it shines unto all who are in the house.  Even so let your light shine before men that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven, Matt 5:14-16.
 
Dene Ward

Have you fallen prey to it yet?  You post something on Facebook and then sit back and wait.  You check it every five minutes at first, then maybe stretch it out a bit, and before you know it, you have sat there for an hour or two and what have you been doing?  Waiting to see if someone “likes” you.  Yes, the quest for popularity affects the masses, and many make use of that pathetic craving of ours. 

              Political pundits say that the first really obvious affect of popularity was the Kennedy-Nixon debates.  On September 26, 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy and Vice-President Richard M. Nixon participated in the first televised presidential debates in American history.  Suddenly election strategy changed.  A carefully manufactured public image and media exposure became essentials for every candidate. 

              Kennedy had only a single and unexceptional term as a Senator on his resume.  Nixon had eight years as vice-president, following a career in the Senate in which his domestic and foreign experience trumped anything Kennedy had.  He was a great opponent of Communism in a time when that really mattered, and even helped uncover the alleged traitor Alger Hiss.  By the summer of 1960, Nixon had gained a lead in the polls.  Then he landed in the hospital with an infection in August and came out pale and 20 pounds underweight.  And so on debate day, a young, bronzed Kennedy confronted a gray Nixon, who was still running a low fever from the tag end of the flu as well.  He had just come off an exhausting campaign trail while Kennedy holed up in the hotel the whole weekend resting.

              After the first of four debates, the pundits scored their politics even, or Nixon slightly ahead.  On Election Day, though, Kennedy won and exit polls showed that politics is not what won the election.  Kennedy was more telegenic.  Over half the voters said the two disparate images during the debate had influenced their vote.  Historians say this was the first time popularity struck a blow in politics.   They are wrong about that.

              After this Absalom got himself a chariot and horses, and fifty men to run before him. And Absalom used to rise early and stand beside the way of the gate. And when any man had a dispute to come before the king for judgment, Absalom would call to him and say, “From what city are you?” And when he said, “Your servant is of such and such a tribe in Israel,” Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel, 2 Sam 15:1-6.

              Absalom made everyone feel “liked” and that “stole their hearts.”  But Absalom wasn’t even the first.  In Judges 9:3 the people of Israel had “hearts inclined to follow Abimelech.”  Both of these men were wrong for God’s people and were eventually killed, but that didn’t stop the people from falling prey to what was “popular.”

              Do you think that hasn’t happened to you?  Why do you wear what you wear?  Why do you watch the television shows you watch?  Why do you go to the restaurants you do?  Whatever is popular at the time steals our hearts because we think that by doing the popular thing we will become popular.  The problem comes when that affects us spiritually.  If I am wearing clothing I shouldn’t because everyone else is, I need a stronger character.  If I am watching inappropriate entertainment, I need to remember who I claim to follow. 

              The people of Israel were taken in by what was popular over and over again.  Ezekiel tells us “their hearts went after their idols” and “covetousness,” 20:16; 33:31.  Jeremiah talks about them “going after the imagination of their hearts,” 9:14; 13:10.  And why did they do those things?  Not only because they were the popular things to do, but because falling in with the crowd made them popular too.  Simply put, you can’t be different and popular in the world at the same time.

              What is your heart going after?  If it’s popularity and wanting to be “liked,” then you are prey to popular evils just like 99% of the rest of the world.  God calls us to be different.  A Christian doesn’t need to be “liked” on Facebook or anywhere else as long as God “likes” him.
 
For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ, Gal 1:10.
 
Dene Ward

Have you noticed this about the internet?  Everyone is in a hurry to spread bad news, almost as if a prize were given to the one who knows it first and has the most lurid detail.  Why is that, especially among Christians?  Shouldn’t a group created by Good News be far more likely to share that?  Yet the many who are quick to excuse their inability to talk to their neighbors about their salvation, have no such qualms about telling even their enemies about a tragedy.

              Psalm 22 should give us pause.  We tend to think of it as “the crucifixion psalm” and relegate it to Messianic prophecy alone.  However, most scholars believe that these psalms had an application in the day in which they were written also.  Therefore, Psalm 22, which is clearly Messianic in many ways, also applied to some time in David’s life. 

              It must be obvious that we do not know every detail of his life.  John said about the life of Jesus, Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written. John 21:25.  Surely the same could be said for David, who lived far longer than the Lord on this earth.  He could easily have had a serious illness we are not told about, or a life-threatening injury.  As many enemies as this man of war had, this psalm could refer to some of them.  Whatever it was, this psalm tells us about some dire straits David found himself in. 

              Note the structure of the psalm.  If you have a modern version, you will see the sections separated clearly.  The “I/me” sections, those about David and his lament, are alternated with the “thou/you” sections, those addressed to God.  The “I/me” sections gradually increase in length, first two verses, then three, then seven.  The “thou” sections gradually increase their urgency until the final one when David seems to scream, “Save me from the mouth of the lion!”

              The danger pictured in the psalm gradually increases.  “Many bulls encompass me.” “They open wide their mouths.” “Dogs encompass me…they pierced my hands and feet.” “Come quickly.  Save me from the mouth of the lion and the horns of the wild oxen.”  By this point, David feels the end is near one way or the other.

              Suddenly, in verse 22, the mood changes.  The poet uses less figurative language and calmer speech.  “Praise” becomes the repetitive word instead of “Deliver me, save me, rescue me.”  David begins to recount this desperate time only so he can tell others the good news—God delivered him.  “Praise him, glorify him, stand in awe of him,” he tells the assembled congregation, probably those whom he had invited to his thank offering feast. 

                The Law of Moses made provision for a man to offer a sacrifice when something wonderful had happened to him.  He was to invite his friends and neighbors and share not only the feast, but the good news of the blessings God had given him.  (Lev 7:15; Deut 12:15-18; Psa 40:9,10)  Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have such a tradition today?  Especially in a day where all we want to share with others are the disasters, the complaints, and the bad news, to actually share good news and praise God for His blessings would be a welcome change.

             What are you sharing with your Facebook friends today?  With your family and neighbors, your classmates, fellow workers, and even the cashiers and waitresses you see during the day?  Is bad news the only thing that exhilarates you, or do you excitedly tell others the good news—that a Savior loves them just as he loves you and has done so many wonderful things for you. 

              God had a people once who only reveled in the bad news, including ten men who came back from seeing a glorious Promised Land and with their evil report (bad news) “made the people complain” Num 14:36.  It did not take long for God to give them up to a wilderness in which they learned what bad news really was. 

              Think today, not only before you speak, but before you share. Let’s start a new tradition.  Let’s make a thank offering feast for our friends instead of a gripe-fest.  Share the good things in your life, so that someday you can more easily share the most important thing—your Lord.
 
The light of the eyes rejoices the heart, and good news refreshes the bones…Like cold water to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country, Prov 15:30; 25:25.
 
Dene Ward
 

Charles Edward Coughlin was one of the first to broadcast religious programming over the radio, beginning in 1925.  He eventually had up to thirty million listeners in the 1930s.  He was a Roman Catholic priest, but his programs were more about politics than religion.  He began with a series of attacks on socialism and Soviet communism and moved on to American capitalism.  He even helped found a political party—the Union Party.  Finally, due to some not-so-latent anti-Semitism, he was forced off the air, announcing it in his final program on September 23, 1939.

              Others have stuck with religion and fared much better, Vernon McGee, Oral Roberts, and Billy Graham among them.  Many went on to television, but for a couple of generations, a lot of folks got their weekly dose of religion from the hump-backed radio they carefully tuned in amid high-pitched whistles and static.

         When I was young, radio evangelists were fond of ending their broadcasts with the directive to “put your hand on the radio and just believe.”  That was supposed to instantly transform the person who did nothing but sit in his recliner with a cup of coffee (or a can of beer?) into a Christian, a true believer, a person of “faith.” 
 
              Most mainstream denominational theologians believe in this doctrine of “mental assent.”  Faith is nothing more than believing, no action required.  Surely that must be one of those things spawned by the itching ears of listeners who wanted nothing required of them.  Just look at a few scriptures with me.

              For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love. Galatians 5:6.  What was that?  “Faith working…?”  Faith isn’t supposed to “work,” or so everyone says.  Did you know that Greek word is energeo?  Can you see it?  That’s the word we get “energy” and “energetic” from.  I don’t remember seeing too many energetic people sitting in their recliners.

              Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, Philippians 1:27.  Striving for the faith?  Even in English “striving” implies effort.  In fact, the Greek word is sunathleo.  Ask any “athlete” if mental assent will help him win a gold medal or a Super Bowl ring and you’ll hear him laughing a mile away.

              Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all, Philippians 2:17, ESV.  Now that can’t be right.  Everyone knows faith has nothing to do with outward observances of the law like sacrifices.  Well, how about this translation?  The ASV says “service of faith.”  Anyway you look at it, whether sacrifice or service, it requires some sort of action on our parts.

              Fight the good fight of 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 6:12.  Faith is a “fight.”  That Greek word is agon from which we get our word “agony.”  If you are a crossword puzzler, you know that an agon was a public fight in the Roman arena.  Anyone who did nothing but sit there, with or without a recliner, didn’t last long.

              To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12.  And there you have it in black and white:  “work of faith.” 

              Nope, some say, the trouble is you keep quoting these men.  Jesus never said any such thing.  Jesus answered them, This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent, John 6:29.  If faith itself is a work, how can we divorce the works it does from it? 

              We do have examples of mental assent in the scriptures, three that I could find easily. 

              You believe that God is one; you do well: the demons also believe, and shudder. James 2:19

              But certain also of the strolling Jews, exorcists, took upon them to name over them that had the evil spirits the name of the Lord Jesus, saying, I adjure you by Jesus whom Paul preaches. And there were seven sons of one Sceva, a Jew, a chief priest, who did this. And the evil spirit answered and said unto them, Jesus I know, and Paul I know, but who are you? Acts 19:13-15

              Those first two examples are powerful.  The devil and his minions believe in the existence of God and the deity of Jesus.  In fact, they know those things for a fact.  They even, please notice, recognize Paul as one of the Lord’s ministers.  So much for not paying attention to his or any other apostle’s writings.  Then there is this one:

              Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; John 12:42.  Those men believed too.  They would have been thrilled to know they could put their hands on something in the privacy of their homes and “just believe.”  They could have had their cake and eaten it too—become followers without actually following.

              And therein lies the crux of the matter.  It’s easy to sit in your recliner and listen.  It’s too hard to work, to strive, to sacrifice and serve, and way too hard to fight until you experience the agony of rejection, tribulation, and persecution.

              Guess what?  Some of us believe this too.  We just substitute the pew for the recliner.  It doesn’t work that way either.  God wants us up and on our feet, working, serving, sacrificing and fighting till the end, whenever and however that may happen.
 
Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?--unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Corinthians 13:5
 
Dene Ward

Recently I had occasion in a ladies' Bible class to use an event from a congregation "long ago and far away" as an example.  As usual, I mentioned no names or places or even exact dates.  Some concepts are difficult to convey without a real-life Illustration.  Unfortunately, I have had to do that more than once during the subject we are now studying and I realized what it might sound like to the class.  I hastened to add, "I know it sounds like we went through the mill in a lot of places,  so let me tell you this too:  we have also had some wonderful experiences that I would not have wanted to miss, and met some of the best people in the world, many of whom we still count as friends."  No place is perfect—and neither are any of their preachers.

              That led me to remember the times we have been asked to leave a congregation under less than ideal circumstances.  I was young, naïve, and far too full of myself, but somehow I did remember this:  The cause of Christ is not about my glory or my feelings or even a wrong done to me and my family.  I must not do anything, regardless the circumstances, to harm the mission of the church in a specific area.  So when neighbors or family who were not Christians asked me why we left, I was very careful in what I said.  Usually, it went something like this:  "We have been here a few years and the church felt it was time for a change."  No one ever questioned me more, and I was relieved.  The gospel was not going to suffer in this area because I felt a need to cry on someone's shoulder.

              Paul is the perfect example of this.  He talked about "false brethren" in his list of trials (2 Cor 11:26).  He mentioned preaching brethren who did their best to cause him trouble while he was in prison (Phil 1:17), but he always kept things "in house."  He didn't go around telling the people he was trying to convert how awful these people he wanted them to be a part of had treated him.  That would defeat the purpose of preaching, don't you think?

              He mentions in 1 Corinthians 7 that he wishes that everyone would remain unmarried.  No, not just in the case of persecution, but even before that in the chapter.  And why?  Because you have others to be concerned about.  Though the distractions in that chapter have to do with caring for a family and persecution that might affect that family, I can apply that in a host of ways, including this one.  If a church mistreats a preacher, it is not just mistreating him, but also his wife and children.  So, he says, make sure you can handle what might come not only your way, but theirs.  Not even innocent children have the right to harm the cause of Christ.

              Paul also mentions suffering at the hands of brothers in 1 Corinthians 6.  It is a "shame" to have outsiders see us squabbling, he said.  Better to choose to suffer wrong, or even be defrauded, than have the spread of the gospel harmed by insisting on my rights in the matter.  In fact, he says that when we put ourselves forward like that we are "defrauding" the church with the consequences it brings. (1 Cor 6:7,8)

              "Discretion is the better part of valor" comes from Shakespeare's Henry IV Part 1, (sort of) and is meant to be a joke.  Falstaff is saying that keeping his mouth shut has saved his life, NOT that being quiet is the most important part of bravery.  But I think in our case, it is not a joke at all.  We are being discreet about what has been done to us because we recognize that we are not the center of God's plan to save man.  To put ourselves in that position is nothing short of arrogance, but to be discreet enough that the cause of the gospel will not be hurt takes a special sort of selfless bravery.

              We all have that obligation, not just preacher's families.  We should be spreading the word about the good things the local group has done for us, not talking up the bad.  How do we ever expect our neighbors to want to be a part of a group that we have nothing good to say about?  It is far easier—and a lot more satisfying—to be the drama queen who can raise a ruckus about my mistreatment.

              Paul's example says, "Don't do it.  Be discreet.  Put the gospel before yourself and even before your children.  If you can't, then either don't get married or don't preach."  We would all do well to remember that.
 
Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” (Rom 12:17-19)
 
Dene Ward

Sooner or later it will rain, especially when you choose a season and place so popular you must reserve your spot months in advance and, thus, will not know the forecast.  So at least one day of every camping trip we sit inside the screen we set up over our picnic table waiting it out. 

              On our latest trip we had the highest site in the campground, a thirty degree incline up to a spot carved out of the mountainside, fifty feet higher than the nearest site, overlooking the campers to the south and the small town in the valley east of us.  We had set up the day before and watched the clouds roll in that night, obliterating the bright three-quarter moon, wrapping around us like a shroud.

              The rain began in the night, an intermittent drizzle that found its way through the dense forest canopy in a steady barrage of loud heavy plops on the taut nylon of the tent roof, keeping me awake half the night.  The next day we spent back in the screen in the middle of a mountain top cloud, its mist swirling around us and dripping off the saturated limbs and leaves even between the sporadic showers.  Inside and under cover, the benches we sat on grew cold and dank, seeping into the denim on our legs.  The sweatshirts on our backs felt damp and our shoulders chilled in the air.  The pages in the books we read thickened and curled at the corners in the cool humidity.  The top of the green propane stove at the end of the table beaded with moisture.

              By nightfall it was a pleasure to crawl into a warm dry sleeping bag, to lay our backs on a firm air mattress instead of leaning against the edge of a hard wooden table, facing outward to a smoky campfire we could hardly feel through the screen, that sputtered and sizzled from raindrops and wet wood.  The next morning dawned clear with a blue that can only mean “cold,” and air so crisp it sucked the damp out of everything, including our hands and lips.

              For a few days everything was perfect—hikes in pristine forests, clear views of twinkling lights in the valley below, food cooked over a wood fire, and a sky full of stars over us as we read at night, the red, orange, blue and purple flames of a crackling campfire toasting our toes and legs. 

              But as perfect as it was, do you think I didn’t want to go home eventually?  That I wanted to live out of boxes forever?  That there wouldn’t come another day, or even week of rain, or maybe a real storm to blow our tent completely off the mountain?  I was happy to go back home, to have electric lights and windows that would shut against the rain and cold, a bathroom just a few feet away instead of a quarter mile, a shower I didn’t have to share with strangers, and a washer and dryer I didn’t have to feed quarters into.  I enjoy my camping vacations, but I wouldn’t if I had to live that way forever.  In fact, would you even enjoy living in a hotel forever?

              The scriptures call our lives here a sojourn, a short stay away from our real home.  Why do we act like this is all that really matters, like we want to stay here forever, and why are we so surprised when it rains on us occasionally?  This isn’t Heaven after all, and faith doesn’t expect Heaven now.

              “Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also,” Jesus said.  Too many of us have our treasures heaped up on a mountaintop campsite or a beachfront condo, and lose our faith when the clouds roll in to spoil our vacation.  If you think this life and this world are all God had in mind for you, you have set your sights far too low.
 
These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth. For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city. Hebrews 11:13-16.
 
Dene Ward

I have had my bird feeders now for over ten years.  What began with one wooden trough and one hummingbird feeder is now that trough plus three hanging feeders and two hummingbird feeders.  If you have been with me long, you know all the lessons we have gleaned from all those birds.  I keep a list now of every type of bird we have seen and it has grown to 37. 

If you had asked me before I would have told you no, we don't have more than a dozen varieties here in the backwoods.  Part of that mistake came because all we offered our birds was bird seed.  We put out a block of suet after a couple of years, and suddenly we had a couple more kinds.  Finally I read that offering them water would increase the number you saw.  Not every bird is a seed-eater, but they all need water.  Suddenly instead of just cardinals, titmice, chickadees, wrens, sparrows, and catbirds, we had brown thrashers, blue jays, black and white warblers, bluebirds, grosbeaks, ovenbirds, buntings, and a host more.
 
             We need to think of these things in terms of offering our congregations to our friends and neighbors.  What are we offering our communities?  A place to "worship right"?  Or a vibrant, supportive community of believers, growing and active, constantly involved with each other and the work?  Which one do you think will inevitably attract more people?  Let's be honest.  A church that "worships right" won't mean a thing to most unbelievers, but a group that shows their care and devotion to one another and the Lord, and who reaches out to them, even and especially in their need, can break down walls that can eventually, with time and teaching, become an understanding of Truth and the Mission the Lord has left us with.  "Worshiping right" will take of itself.

              Stop throwing seed at the meat-eaters.  Put out some living water and watch them come!
 
Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water.” The woman said to him, “Sir, you have nothing to draw water with, and the well is deep. Where do you get that living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob? He gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did his sons and his livestock.” Jesus said to her, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I will give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water.” (John 4:10-15)
 
Dene Ward

Lines of wooden tables covered with red checked cloths, yellowed cotton cloths, handmade crocheted cloths, loaded till sagging, every square inch laden with stoneware bowls full of red potato salad, yellow with mustard, and studded with chopped celery, sweet pickle nuggets, and chunks of hard-boiled egg; bright orange carrot salad polka-dotted with black raisins; clear glass bowls of layered salads, various shades of green, orange, white, and yellow; finely chopped slaws, pale green with orange and purple flecks and dressed in a white dressing or a sweet vinegar; chipped china platters of golden-eyed deviled eggs, some bloodshot with paprika; luscious pink ham slices, and piles of fried chicken covered with a homemade breading redolent with spices and herbs, the chicken itself tangy and moist from a buttermilk brine; club aluminum Dutch ovens filled with pole beans, green beans, speckled butterbeans, and white acres, mustard, turnip and collard greens, all sporting a sheen of bacon drippings and shreds of pork; cast iron pots of bubbling baked beans spiked with molasses and the contents of every bottle in the refrigerator; others loaded with fall apart pot roast, pork roast, or chicken and bright yellow rice; others still steaming with chicken and slicker style dumplings; spoons sticking up akimbo from mason jars full of the jewel colors of various pickles, everything from deep red to chartreuse to layers of emerald green, canary yellow, and white; baskets of fluffy, tan buttermilk biscuits, soft yeast rolls, and black skillets of cornbread wedges; pies billowing with meringue, dense with pecans, or fruit bubbling from a vented golden crust; moist cake layers enrobed in swirls of chocolate or cream cheese or clouds of seven minute frosting, some cloaked in coconut, others with nuts peeking out from the coating—none of them exactly perfect because everything is homemade.

              That’s what potluck was like when I was a child.  It was far superior to today’s offerings, at least half of which are purchased on the way—fold-up boxes of fried chicken and take-out pizza, plastic containers of salads and slaws, and bakery boxes of cakes and pies, all entirely too perfect to be made from scratch.  Is it any wonder that everyone rushes for the obviously homemade goodies and even snatches slices of cake early, before going through the regular line, and hides them for a later dessert?

              Potluck originally referred to feeding drop-in guests or folks passing through who needed a meal whatever was in the pot that evening.  Drop-ins were not considered rude in those days.  I remember my parents thoroughly enjoying the evenings when someone just happened to stop by.  We didn’t load our lives down with extra-curricular activities back then--people were the activities.

              Potluck eventually came to mean “You bring what you have and I’ll bring what I have and we’ll eat together.”  It didn’t really involve any extra work—that was the point.  When no one has enough of one thing but you pool it together, there is plenty for everyone, and plenty of time left to visit.

              We often speak of “feasting on the word of God.”  I wonder what would happen if we had a potluck?  What would I have to offer?  Anything at all?  Do I spend enough time in the word of God to have thoughts on it readily at hand?  Most of us are too embarrassed to show up at a real potluck with nothing in our hands, but think nothing of showing up to a Bible study with nothing to share.

              Would my spiritual table be loaded down with good food or store-bought, processed, preservative-laden grub because I had no time left in my day to cook something up?  Would my offering be fresh and nutritious or calorie-laden and fatty?  Would it be a gracious plenty mounded high in the bowl or spooned into a plastic cup barely big enough to feed one?  Would it be piping hot or lukewarm?  Would people go away satisfied or determined to avoid my table at all costs in the future?

             Think about it tonight when you look at the meal you feed your family. What’s in that spiritual pot of yours should someone happen by?  Would they be lucky or not? 
 
"Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and he who has no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David, Isaiah 55:1-3.
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Numbers 25 begins with a sad tale. The children of Israel allowed themselves to be drawn away by the “daughters of Moab” and bowed themselves to the Moabites’ gods. God became angry and sent a plague which killed 24,000 of his people. God told Moses to slay all those who had joined themselves to the Moabites’ gods.  Moses passes this on to the judges of the people and it is done.  Or so everyone thought.  In verse six we see that, while everyone is gathered by the door of the tabernacle grieving over what had happened, one man brazenly appeared with one of these women.  What happens next might be considered startling:

Num. 25:7-8 “And when Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron the priest, saw it, he rose up from the midst of the congregation, and took a spear in his hand; and he went after the man of Israel into the pavilion, and thrust both of them through, the man of Israel, and the woman through her body. So the plague was stayed from the children of Israel.”

No doubt, some in Israel thought that Phinehas had acted precipitously.  Lest any accuse him of that, God pronounced His blessing upon Phinehas:

Num. 25:10-13 “And Jehovah spake unto Moses, saying, Phinehas, the son of Eleazar, the son of Aaron the priest, has turned my wrath away from the children of Israel, in that he was jealous with my jealousy among them, so that I consumed not the children of Israel in my jealousy. Wherefore say, Behold, I give unto him my covenant of peace: and it shall be unto him, and to his seed after him, the covenant of an everlasting priesthood; because he was jealous for his God, and made atonement for the children of Israel.”

Phinehas turned away God’s wrath because he was jealous for God.  His anger on God's behalf at seeing his countryman turning after another god resulted in his killing that man.  He was so zealous to keep Israel pure for God that he wiped out the sin from Israel and was vindicated by God.

Would God say the same about me that He said about Phinehas?  No, I’m not advocating “honor killings” in the church, but just how jealous am I for the Lord?  Does it disgust and sadden me when I see people turning from the Lord, having been caught up in this life?  When an impenitent sinner is defiling spiritual Israel am I ready to “Purge out the old leaven, that ye may be a new lump, even as you are unleavened”? (1 Cor. 5:7)  Or do I keep making excuses for the sinner?  

Speaking of purity, how far am I willing to go to maintain my own purity?  Paul talks about beating his body to keep it under control (1 Cor. 9:27), a figure of speech I’m sure, but one that illustrates Paul’s dedication to his purity.  Do I keep my carnal, fleshly urges under tight control or do I give in to every temptation?  How hard do I fight, how jealous am I for God?

God made a “covenant of peace” with Phinehas because Phinehas demonstrated a fierce jealousness, or zealousness, for the Lord.  When God sees my zeal for Him, would He offer me the same, or would He turn sadly away?

Lucas Ward