Men seem to have a problem with prepositions.  Keith, for example, mixes up “in” with “over,” “on,” “at,” and “beside.”  When he takes anything out of a drawer, his idea of putting it back is to put it on the counter over the drawer, rather than in the drawer.  In the morning, he leaves the cough drop wrappers on the floor beside the bed, rather than putting them in the trash can.  When he undresses, he throws his clothes at or on the hamper, rather than putting them in it. 

              I could accept that this is just a “man thing” except for this:  this same man makes Biblical arguments about prepositions every day.  The best explanation to me is that we all see what we want to see instead of what is really there, and hear what we want to hear instead of what was really said.

              Many of my friends have the same problem.  They want to live as “good” people and think that Christ and the church have absolutely nothing to do with their salvation.  The Bible, on the other hand, says that “in Christ” we have redemption (Rom 3:24), the love of God (Rom 8:39), sanctification (1 Cor 1:2), grace (2 Tim 2:1), and salvation (2 Tim 2:10).  Not out of Christ, but in.  Which of those things are you willing to do without?

              Baptism is for the remission of sins (Acts 2:38), not after or because of, and we are baptized into one body (1 Cor 12:13) not on a convenient Sunday nor because we were voted in.

              Some of my brethren have a similar problem.  They think that sitting on a pew is what makes us in Christ.  Yet the scriptures they quote every Sunday tell them that “in Christ” we are new creatures (2 Cor 5:17), created for good works (Eph 2:10).  Not only that but we must prove we are in the faith and we do that by showing Christ in us (2 Cor 13:5), following in his footsteps in those good works (1 Pet 2:21).  We prove we are sound in the faith by the way we live our lives every day (Titus 1:10-2:13).

              Prepositions are not that difficult and they do matter.  Do you want to eat dinner at the table or under it?  Do you want to take a shower in the bathroom or out of it?  Do you want to sleep on the bed or beside it?  Do you want your wife to feed you breakfast in bed or on the bed (where she threw it at you because you obviously do not understand prepositions!)?  See?  All it takes is a little honesty with ourselves, enough to see beyond our biases, beyond “what I’ve always heard,” beyond “what mama said,” and you can make the same changes that those people of the first century did—pagans who before lived lives of sin without giving it a second thought, who had no concept of monotheism, who had to change every aspect of their lives, even to the point of bringing persecution upon themselves and their families, and many times death. 

              Maybe that’s the problem.  We are simply not that honest, brave, or sincere in our devotion to God and a Savior who gave up everything for us.  We want to throw the clothes at the hamper and say to God, “See how much I love you?”

              Let me tell you something—He ain’t buyin’ it.
 
Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself up for it; that he might sanctify it, having cleansed it by the washing of water with the word, that he might present the church to himself a glorious church, not having spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish. Ephesians 5:25-27
 
Thanks to Keith for being such a good sport about this one!
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
Most of us have probably seen, “That which does not kill me must make me stronger” and reflected that we know more than a few people for whom that was not true in any measurable sense.  They either became weaker and whinier in character or they were demolished physically, or both.  This even happens to many in the church.

A variation, “That which does not kill me just postpones the inevitable,” is absolute, though cynical, and fails to address the character issues related to triumph or despair.

While these dueled on the office whiteboard, I formulated my own, “For many, death is just the punctuation to an existence that was without life.”  I am sure some famous person said this before I did.

Aside from the usual depressing thoughts about meaningless existence and so forth, I thought of these things:

We tend to think of eternal life as something in the future.  John clearly states that it is something we have now or choose not to have now.  “These things I write that ye may know that you HAVE eternal life (1 Jn 5:11-13, Jn 17:3, 20:31, 6:47 and many like passages).  If you have the Son, you have the life.  Are you in the Son, having been baptized into Christ and having continued in the triumph of the baptized life?  (Raised to walk in newness of LIFE, Rom 6:1-11).  Peter joins in with, “Divine power has granted us all things that pertain to life,” (2Pet 1:3). With divine power available to help us, how can we even think we are not able to live the life?   Paul adds, “Godliness is profitable for the life that now is.” (1Tim 4:8).  Though trials and temptations come, we have eternal life.  Hold on to what you have!

Eternal life is not a thing we give up all the pleasures of this life to obtain after we die.  Eternal Life is a present possession enjoyed in all the fullness that mortal bodies can attain; in which joy we long for the fuller life in heaven.  Eternal life consists of all the spiritual pleasures of this life; the worldly pleasures, both the sinful and those not immoral (e.g. time-wasters) are false pleasure, full of lies and “death” now and to come.

The knowledge of Jesus has granted unto us his precious and exceeding great promises; THAT THROUGH THESE YE MAY BECOME PARTAKERS OF THE DIVINE NATURE, having escaped from the corruption that is in that world by lust (2 Pet 1:4).  We can, we are, we will be.

Life is more than not being dead.  Jesus came that we might have life and have it abundantly.  Seize the true life.  Enjoy eternal life now.
Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses (1Tim 6:12).

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes has eternal life. (John 6:47)


Keith Ward

When Silas came to stay all by himself for the first time, we were not sure how he would handle being away from Mommy and Daddy.  Especially since we were over two hours away, it would have been impossible to get him back home quickly if he were too homesick to last.  He was still three, barely, and, though he had stayed alone with us the night Judah was born, and the night after as well, that was at his own home and he slept in his own bed.

              We managed to keep him talking about happy things all the way home, deeper and deeper into the “dark, spooky woods” as he later called it.  It was after nine o’clock at night and, if you have never experienced it, there is nothing quite as dark as “country dark”—away from the streetlights, traffic lights, parking lot lights, and neon signs of the city.  Only once or twice did he stray into the dangerous territory of “Where will I sleep tonight?” in a pensive tone of voice.

              “We’re here!” we shouted as we pulled up to the gate, wondering aloud in excited voices if Chloe would come to meet us.  That kept him happy as we pulled into the carport and unfastened his booster seat straps.  Then, just as we walked toward the back porch, an owl screamed not fifty feet away, sounding every bit like a hysterical woman, followed by a “Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha” before finally settling into its usual “Who-hoo.” Silas was up those steps in a flash, plastered next to his grandfather’s leg and looking over his shoulders with eyes as big as Frisbees.  How could I tell in the dark?  Even in the dim starlight I could see white all the way around those big blue irises.

              “Uh-oh,” I thought.  “He will be terrified for the rest of the night.”  Luckily Grandma had made some ooey-gooey chocolate cookies and that took care of the problem.  That first impression, which could have ruined the entire stay, was fairly easily overcome, but I think it often is for children.  It’s the adults among us who hang on to them.

              And that brings me to today’s point.  We all know that old saying, “You only get one chance to make a first impression.”  I wish we could remember that all the time, not just when we are meeting someone we hope to impress for our own selfish interests.  Everyone who comes into contact with us, anywhere and any time, is a soul we might be able to save.  What if that first impression you make is the only impression you will ever make?

              I try to remind myself of that when I have a bad experience at a store or in a restaurant.  If I fly off the handle and act like a jerk, if I indulge in harsh words that suit my sense of an injustice having been done me, demanding “my rights” as a customer or patron, how will I ever persuade them to study the Bible with me?  Could I turn right around and hand them an invitation to church services, a gospel meeting, or a ladies Bible class?  Just exactly what kind of reaction do you think I would get?  Did you have a bad morning?  Our bad moods can be very expensive—they can cost someone else his soul.

              So remind yourself the next time you are caught in a tricky situation.  Paul told the Corinthians they should be willing to suffer wrong so the church wouldn’t be ridiculed by the litigious behavior among them (1 Cor 6:7).  What are we willing to suffer so the first impression we leave with someone, won’t guarantee that it will be the last?
 
Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us, Titus 2:7-8.
 
Dene Ward      

Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. (Matt 11:11)
 
              Did you ever stop and think about that statement?  This is John, the blood cousin of Jesus, we are talking about.  John, the great preacher who gave up any semblance of a "normal" life--family, a comfortable home, a business, even the standard fare of the day that most of his Jewish friends and family enjoyed—all for the sake of his mission as the Forerunner of the Messiah.  John, the brave martyr who dared speak against an evil and sinful woman and her weak and ignominious husband.  Yet the least in the kingdom is greater than he?

              I am not going to define either "the least" or "the kingdom" in any sort of theological way.  I am sure great scholars could write pages about it, but I am not sure it would do me the same amount of good as simply considering these phrases at face value.  Are you in the kingdom of his Son?  I am, or so I claim.  I certainly do not claim to be the greatest.  I am much closer to the least, but greater than John?  I would never in a million years claim it, yet both Matthew and Luke record Jesus saying it.  It must be true in some way.

              I don't know about you, but that statement does not make me puff out my chest in pride.  Instead, it makes me hang my head in shame.  I have never lived up to John's example and I probably never will.  But when I think of what Jesus says here, it certainly makes me want to try harder.

              How about you?

And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1Pet 1:17-19)

Dene Ward

If you were like me as a child, you learned quickly that you do not talk back to your parents.  You don't argue, you don't make sarcastic comments, you don't mock, you certainly don't say, "NO," when you are told to do something.  I tried it once and never did it again.

            I think that's one application of the passage in Habakkuk:  But Jehovah is in his holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him. (Hab 2:20).  God had just pronounced a judgment that Habakkuk did not think was fair.  He asked God how he could allow a nation even more wicked than Judah to destroy them.  While God was willing to answer Habakkuk, the prophet knew there was no sense arguing.  The Creator of all the universe had made his decision.  "Let all the earth keep silence before Him."  No talking back.

            Sometimes God makes decisions about the things we pray for that we do not understand.  No matter how hard we try, it simply makes no sense to us.  Perhaps we are thinking too highly of ourselves and our ability to know what is best, even though we are stuck here in time on a physical earth, unable to see the larger ramifications.  It is up to us to do as Habakkuk did and accept an Almighty God's decision with the reverent attitude, "Thy will be done," and mean it.

            But there is another aspect to this silence.  Habakkuk contrasts our approach to God with the approach idolaters take--must take—in order to gain their god's attention—and even then it doesn't work.  Woe unto him who says to the wood, Awake; to the dumb stone, Arise! Shall this teach? Behold, it is overlaid with gold and silver, and there is no breath at all in the midst of it. (Hab 2:19)
            Remember the contest on Mt Carmel?  The prophets of Baal called from morning until noon…but there was no voice, and no one answered. (1Kgs 18:26)  Elijah called out ONE TIME.  That was all it took, and the fire came down immediately. This is not to negate the persistence in prayer taught in other passages, but sometimes we treat God as if he, too, were an idol who needed to be roused from sleep, when closer inspection shows that WE need to learn to accept God's decisions.

            How do we know when to do what?  I am not sure, but that closer inspection must surely involve a lot of self-examination.  Why do I keep asking for this particular thing?  Too many times the reasons are selfish, immature, or covetous.  Too many times we refuse to see our own failings in the problems we have.  It's much easier to blame it on someone else than to change ourselves.  It's easier to blame the church than to accept individual responsibility.  How many times have I heard parents say the church is the reason their children are lost?  How many times has Keith heard convicted felons blame their lives on society?

            The answer again is to keep quiet and listen.  Keep quiet and think.  Keep quiet and accept God's judgment.  Repentance doesn't involve excuses—verbalizing a list.  It means we face our sins and change.

            God won't accept backtalk any more than your parents did.
 
Be silent, all flesh, before the LORD, for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling. (Zech 2:13)

About thirty years ago, we awoke one Saturday morning to ominous gray skies and strong winds.  The forecast for the day made it dangerous to be out, so we called those we had invited for a singing that afternoon and canceled.  Instead of walking to the paper box, about a quarter mile down our driveway, Keith drove the car, and as huge, plopping raindrops began falling, parked it next to the front door when he returned.
            A few minutes later, he looked out the window by the table where he sat reading the paper and sipping a cup of coffee.  Something in his manner made me look too, but I didn’t see anything. 
            “Get the boys,” he said very quietly, “and go crouch down in the middle of the house.  Cover your faces.”  I did exactly as he said, unquestioningly.  He grew up in the Arkansas mountains, and he knew about things I had no experience with.  A few minutes later it was all over with.  What “all” was, I still did not realize.  The power had gone out, but we were still intact. 
            We stepped out of the house, and the hay barn across the field no longer had a roof.  Several water oaks and wild cherry trees were down on the long drive to the highway.  A large chinaberry had fallen right where the car had originally been parked before he decided to drive for the paper instead of walking.  It would have been flattened.
            Then we edged around the corner of the house on our bedroom side, and saw the worst of it.  A huge live oak had split.  Half had fallen on the power lines, but the line was still alive, wiggling and sparking on the ground.  The other half, its roots mostly out of the ground, leaned right over our bedroom.  We had no idea how long it would hold before it too fell and demolished our house.
            We called the power company immediately and they rushed out to take care of the live wire, but they had too many other calls to send someone to handle the tilting tree.  We would have to wait our turn.  Word gradually spread down the highway, and within an hour, two men who worked timber drove up with cables and chainsaws, and those two men, who were complete strangers to us, took the tree down safely and with no damage.  We thanked them profusely.  “That’s what neighbors are for,” they said, and off they went.
            A preacher friend who had been invited to the sing never got the message to cancel.  He showed up amid the raucous roar of chainsaws, and heard the whole story.  It impressed him enough to include it in a lesson on prayer and providence.  The people in the audience were not impressed.  Afterward they took him aside and scolded him.  “God does not act in the world today,” they reminded him.  He was astounded, and so were we.
            When we become so intent on exposing false doctrine that we blatantly ignore the truth, swinging the pendulum so far back that we miss it entirely, something is wrong with our perspective.  If God had no hand in what happened that day, then why do we bother to pray at all?  Do we not believe James? 
            “The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much,” 5:16. 
            Do we not believe the book of Esther or the last 14 chapters of Genesis?  “God sent me,” Joseph told his brothers who had thought it was all their idea, and God continued to “send” Joseph through Potiphar’s wife, the baker and butler, and eventually Pharaoh himself.
            God spent much of the prophets talking about how He would work through the enemies of Israel.  “Ho Assyrian! The rod of my anger!  The staff of my fury is in his hand,” Isa 10:5.  God sent those Assyrians to punish Israel, just as certainly as He sent those two lumberjacks to save my home.  He did it because of the prayers I started the moment I saw that look in my husband’s eye, the moment I crouched on the floor trying to shield my little boys with my own body, the moment we saw that tree clinging to the pitifully few clods of dirt left on its roots.
            I will never believe otherwise.  In fact, why do we bother if we don’t believe it?
 
The LORD is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth. He fulfills the desire of those who fear him; he also hears their cry and saves them. Psalms 145:18-19

It takes us three days to pack for a camping trip.  I have a list saved on the computer that I print out every time—three pages.  Yes, I said three pages.
            Just for meals, for instance, I pack cups, mugs, plates, soup bowls, a measuring cup, grill tools, saucepans, skillets, the coffee pot, propane stoves, matches, gas canisters, coffee filters, a griddle, a folding grill, a mixing bowl, silverware, mixing spoons and spatulas, foil, Ziplocs for leftovers, a bacon drippings can, paper towels, dish soap, a dish pan, dish towels, hot pads, and trash bags, and that doesn’t count the food!  Now imagine things you need for every part of your day, from brushing your teeth, to hiking, to showering, to sitting around after dark reading, to going to bed, and you begin to see why the list is three pages long.
            We use this list because I have found that if I don’t have it to cross off, I will invariably forget something.  From time to time we delete something on the list or add something as our situation changes.  When we were young we didn’t need to take two boxes of medications. 
            We keep a backup disk of items saved on the computer.  That list is on it.  Should we ever lose it, I might even be tempted to never go camping again.  I cannot imagine having to remake the list from memory.  More likely, we would remake it around the fire the first night after discovering all the things we forgot.
            When we had boys with us, I had other things on the list that were equally important.  In fact, I was probably more careful about their things than mine.  I wanted them to have enough clothes, especially enough warm clothes.  I learned that lesson the hard way when we woke up by a mountain stream one June morning to fifty degree temperatures and they had nothing but shorts and tee shirts to wear.  Fifty degrees in June?  As a Florida native I didn’t even know that was possible, and I felt horrible, quickly mixing up some warm oatmeal and hot chocolate while Keith built a campfire for them to huddle around as they ate.
            We are all on a trip every day of our lives.  What have you packed for your children?  Too many parents just let life happen without a plan.  Do you teach them?  Do you talk with them every chance you get about a God who loves them, who made them, and who expects things of them?  Do you discuss the things that happen in their lives and the decisions they made, or perhaps should have made?  Do they know that those decisions will affect their eternal destiny?  Do you allow them to pay the consequences for their mistakes, or do you shelter them?  Do you tell them what the world is really like out there, how to recognize the traps, the enemies in disguise and the true values of life?  Are you sure you have everything they could possibly need to assure their eternal destiny?
            Maybe you need to make a list.
 
We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done. He established a testimony in Jacob and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers to teach to their children, that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and arise and tell them to their children, so that they should set their hope in God and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments; Psalms 78:4-7.

On May 22, 1990, Donald Rose and Daniel Wilkins were charged with the robbery and murder of William Dabbs. They were members of the East Coast Crips gang and Wilkins teased Rose that he had not yet proven himself.  He handed him a .22 and together they headed for rival gang territory.  Along the way they ran into Dabbs at a phone booth where he was trying to find a ride after his buddy had been picked up by the Highway Patrol and he was left behind.  The cousin on the phone heard an argument and two gun shots.  Several months later, Dabbs having died at the hospital of a gunshot wound to the stomach, Daniel Wilkins confessed to aiding and abetting Donald Rose in both the robbery and murder.   Donald Rose did not confess, and at a trial was later found not guilty.  Wilkins, having already confessed was sent to prison.
            He appealed.  How could he aid and abet a crime where the other was found not guilty?  The California Penal Code reads:  All persons concerned in the commission of a crime…whether they directly commit the act constituting the offense, or aid and abet in its commission, or, not being present, have advised and encouraged its commission…are principals in any crimes so committed."  Federal law, 18 USC Section 2, states that anyone who aids or abets another in the commission of a crime can be punished as though he committed the crime himself.
            I wonder if we realize how many times we aid and abet the enemy of the cross?  Usually we are too wrapped up in ourselves to comprehend the perceptions of others and the effects on them.  Our American “rights” tell us we can do and say as we please and it’s no one else’s business.  When you become a Christian, you give up those rights.  The rights of others always supercede yours.
            How do people perceive you in a crisis?  Are you the one who stays calm?  The one whose language never slips?  The one who refuses to fall into a pit of despair?  What happens when you are caught in a mistake?  Do you lie about what happened?  Do you blame others, or do you calmly assume responsibility, offer an apology, and work hard to rectify the mistake?  When you see a person in need, do you step in and offer help?  Do you treat others well, regardless how they treat you?  Do you give to all, not just your friends?  How do you handle disagreements or insults?  A Christian never bases his behavior on how others have treated him, but upon what is right and what is wrong.  “But he made me mad,” means someone else is controlling you, and Christians always practice self-control.
            If you have ever claimed to be a Christian, these things can very well effect whether anyone will ever listen to you again, or even whether anyone else from the church will ever reach those people.  Too many times I have talked to people only to have them tell me about “someone from your church who…”  Our behavior may have successfully aided the Devil in capturing one more soul.
            Sometimes when we think we are doing the Lord’s work, we are really aiding the enemy.  When you talk to people about the church and the gospel, how do you go about it?  It may be extremely uncomfortable, but also eminently practical, to ask others how you are perceived when you teach, when you preach, or just in casual conversation.  Do you notice how many times you use the word “I?”  Do you know whether you tend to be loud or sound bossy?  Does your manner reek of arrogance or sarcasm?  Do you go on far too long, drowning important soul-saving concepts in a sea of words?  When you talk to folks who aren’t Christians (sometimes even when they are), you can’t count on them to be spiritual enough to endure the off-putting habits you might have.  Am I too proud to learn to do better?  If so, I have just aided and abetted the Enemy of the cross of Christ by refusing to “become all things to all men.”
            Most people who try to edify others and save the lost are good-hearted individuals who have no idea they come across in these ways.  They would never knowingly aid and abet the enemy of our Savior.  But that enemy is smart—he will use our weaknesses to his own advantage.  Nothing is said or done in a vacuum.  If you aren’t helping the cause of the Lord, you are hurting it, and it can happen even when you think you are doing His will, just by failing to notice what is going on or refusing to listen to those who might have some pretty good advice about how to better go about it.  Don’t commit treason against the Lord.
 
To the weak I became weak, that I might gain the weak: I am become all things to all men, that I may by all means save some. And I do all things for the gospel's sake, that I may be a joint partaker thereof. 1 Cor 9:22-23

I don’t know what we would have done without hand-me-downs. 
            Lucas survived his infancy on borrowed baby clothes, but that young mother soon needed them again so there were no tiny clothes to pass down to Nathan.  At that point we were living by a children’s clothes factory and could go to the outlet store and buy seconds for as little as fifty cents each.  Each summer and each winter I dug my way through a mountain of irregulars and managed to find three shirts and three pairs of either shorts or long pants, according to the season.  Sometimes the colors were a little odd, like the “dress” shoes I bought for Lucas when he was two—maroon patent leather with a beige saddle—but they covered his feet for $1 and no one was likely to mistake them for another child’s shoes.
            Then, just as they reached school age, we found ourselves in a church with half a dozen little boys just three or four years older than they.  Suddenly my boys’ closet was bursting.  They were far better dressed than I was, and they had even more waiting to be grown into.  They didn’t mind hand-me-downs and neither did our scanty bank account.
            Keith and I have followed suit.  Probably 75% of my clothes are hand-me-downs, and the rest I picked up at consignment shops and thrift stores, with only a handful of things I bought new, always off a clearance rack.  Keith has more shirts than he could wear in a month—we didn’t buy a one of them.
            When you get a hand-me-down, sometimes you can’t wear it as is.  Sometimes it’s my own personal sense of taste, meager though that may be.  Sometimes it’s a size issue.  I have been known to take up hems or let them out if the giver was taller or shorter than I.  I almost always remove shoulder pads.  I have wide shoulders for a woman and shoulder pads make me look like a football player in full gear.  If the collar has a bow, a scarf, or high buttons, those go too—I hate anything close around my neck and it makes my already full face look like a bowling ball.  So while I gratefully accept those second hand clothes, I do something to make them my own.
            Which brings me to handed-down faith.  Being raised in the church can be both a blessing and a curse.  Being taught from before you can remember means doing right becomes second nature.  There is never any question where I will be on Sunday morning because I have always been there.  There is never any question what I will do when it’s time to make a choice that involves morals or doctrine.  There is never any question about my priorities—my parents taught those to me every day of my childhood, both in word and deed.
            Yet God will not accept any faith that is not my own.   Yes, He was with Ishmael for Abraham’s sake, Gen 17:20; 21:13.  To those who are dear to His children, but who are not believers, God will sometimes send material blessings, 39:5, and physical salvation, 19:29, but He will not take a hand-me-down faith until it becomes personal, Ezek 18:1-4.  I have to reach a point where I know not only what I believe, but why, and that faith must permeate my life as I lead it, in every situation I find myself in, in every decision I must make, but at the same time come from my heart not habit.  If I have not reached that point, what will I do when my parents are gone?  Will my faith stand then?  Or will I be like Joash, who did just fine as long as his mentor Jehoiada the priest was alive, but fell to the point of killing his cousin Zechariah, a prophet of God, when he was finally left on his own? (2 Chron 24) 
            Pass your faith on to your children, but your job doesn’t end there.  Help them make it their own.  Let them tear out those shoulder pads and lengthen those hems.  It really isn’t a compliment to your parenting skills if all they can do is mimic you while you are still alive to keep tabs on them.  You might in fact be limiting them by demanding exact conformity to every nuance of your own faith.  Their faith could very well soar farther than you ever thought about if you let them fly.
            But the real test comes when you are gone.  Can you rest well with the job you have done?
 
I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to stir you up by way of reminder, since I know that the putting off of my body will be soon, as our Lord Jesus Christ made clear to me. And I will make every effort so that after my departure you may be able at any time to recall these things. For… we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts, 2 Peter 1:13-15, 19.
 

Nothing aggravates me much more than listening to someone claim to be religious, claim to love the Lord, claim to have the utmost faith in Him, and then live like the Devil.  It is false advertising at its worst.  Then our women’s Bible study reached James 2 in our study of faith and suddenly, it got a little personal.
 
             Although I am grateful for the convenience of chapters and verses that the scholars have added, it is obvious that they sometimes had their minds on other things when they threw them in.  And throw them it appears they did, like sprinkling salt on a plateful of food.  So what if a verse is divided in the middle of a sentence or a chapter in the middle of a thought?  The “what” is this—you forget to check the entire context because your eyes tell your mind that it started and ended right there, not on the page before or after.

              So we backed up into chapter 1 and found this:  “If anyone thinks he is religious…” in verse 26.  Another two verses back we found, “If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer…” verse 23, which directly connects to the whole point of chapter 2: “Faith without works is dead.”  Chapter 2 itself begins with, “Show no partiality as you hold the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ.”  So from all that we easily concluded that being a doer of the Word (1:23), being religious (1:26), and holding to the faith (2:1) were all synonymous, and that it was easy to tell if a person fit the bill. 

              Follow along with me.  A person who merely thinks he is religious but in reality is not:  does not bridle his tongue, 1:26; does not serve others, 1:27; lives a life of impurity, 1:27;  does not love his neighbor as himself, 2:8;  shows partiality, 2:9;  does not show mercy, 2:13.

              I am happy to point out that those celebrities who claim faith in the Lord hop from bed to bed, and carouse at every opportunity.  Their language is foul and a criminal record of drugs, DUIs, and assaults follow them around like a noxious vapor trail. 

              But how about the rest of us, the ones who don’t have the paparazzi following us?  Do we serve those in need or are we too busy?  Do we love our neighbors, or only the friends we enjoy being with?  Do we talk about “them,” whoever they might be in any conversation, as if they were somehow “other” than us because of their race, their nationality, their lifestyle, their politics, even the clothes they wear?  If I do any of that am I any more “religious” than the Jesus-calling, promiscuous drunk I abhor?

              This discussion also led us to another defining characteristic of a true faith.  Look at those qualities again—someone who says the right thing at the right time, whose words are extremely important; someone who serves others; someone who is pure and holy; someone who loves as himself; someone who treats everyone the same, even the lowest of the low; someone who shows mercy—who does that best describe?  Isn’t it the one we are supposed to have faith in, Jesus, and ultimately God?

              Adoration equals imitation.  If I am not trying to become like the one I have faith in, my faith is a sham.  How can I claim to believe in a God who sends rain on the just and the unjust while holding back on my service to one I have deemed unworthy of it?  How can I have faith in a merciful God and not forgive even the worst sin against me?  How can I have faith in a God who is holy and pure and a Lord who remained sinless as the perfect example to me and make excuses for my own sins?

              Do you think you are religious?  Do your neighbors?  Sometimes what we really are is a whole lot clearer to everyone else.
 
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. James 1:22-25
 
Dene Ward