I can’t really believe it.  I was going through all those painful physical therapy exercises you have to do to keep moving when you have injuries or surgeries, and to keep my mind off the pain and the endless repetitions, I flipped on a channel that runs only old shows, about the only kind I can stand to watch any longer.  On a defunct old program I suddenly heard something profound enough to catch my attention.  A character was complaining about his life and how bad he felt.  Another character looked at him and said, “If you want to feel better, take a pill.  If you want to BE better, face the truth about yourself.”

            I stopped mid-rep, losing count completely.  What was that I heard?  I repeated it to myself at least three times so I wouldn’t forget it—maybe—and it was weighty enough a thought that it did stay with me until I could write it down.  “This one I must use sometime,” I thought, and then suddenly realized that God has been using it for millennia, sort of.

            “Face the truth about yourself,” we say.  He says:

            Be not wise in your own eyes…Prov 3:7.

            There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way to death, Prov 16:25.
            Every way of a man is right in his own eyes, but the Lord weighs the heart, Prov 21:2.
            There are those who are clean in their own eyes but are not washed of their filth, Prov 30:12.
            He feeds on ashes, his deluded mind deceives him, he cannot rescue himself,,,Isa 44:20.
            Let no one deceive himself.  If anyone among you thinks he is wise in this age, let him become a fool that he may become wise, 1 Cor 3:18.
            For if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself, Gal 6:3.
            If anyone thinks he is religious but does not bridle his tongue and deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless, James 1:26.

            Your head should be spinning by now.  How many times have I deceived myself into ignoring rebukes and shunning well-intentioned advice?  And then, when it all falls apart and I am left hurt and weeping, did I ever once stop and think over that advice and those rebukes again and think maybe—just maybe—I should have listened?  Maybe—just maybe—I am not as astute as I seem to think I am.  Oh, I say the right words (“I am not perfect”), but when the fruit reveals itself in my actions, everyone knows I cannot be reasoned with because “My case is different.”  So many people think themselves the exception to the rule that you wonder why God bothered to write a guidebook for us—it doesn’t apply to anyone!  Oh wait, I know why!  For ME to correct everyone else.

            A rebuke should make me stop and consider, not stomp and smolder.  Yes, that is still difficult.  I am not sure it ever becomes easy.  But those scriptures up there say that if I do not consider, the vengeance I wreak with my answering anger to the one who cared enough to try, will only destroy me.

            “If you want to feel better, take a pill.  If you want to BE better, face the truth about yourself.”
 
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. Jas 1:22-25
 
Dene Ward

The majority of my piano students stayed with me through their senior year of high school.  Since I expected few if any to become performers (only one actually makes his living that way these days), I rewarded each with a senior recital, their only chance to feel the adrenaline rush of performance and the exhilaration of applause.  Formal attire, printed programs, a reception, and every performance experience including introductions, intermissions, curtain calls, and enough audience plants to ensure the need for an encore.

            From my own experiences I gave them helpful advice on things I knew they would never think of otherwise.  No hand or arm jewelry, no long, floppy sleeves, no long dangling earrings—you’d be amazed how much motion you can get in those things.

            Carry a small absorbent cloth when you go out, something you can wrap your hand around easily, and keep it on the piano bench next to you, on the side away from the audience.  Nervous hands can sweat more than you ever dreamed possible.

            Practice bowing.  A perfect performance can be marred by a beautiful young woman who looks like one of the plastic birds perched on the edge of a cup bouncing its beak up and down into the water, or by the loopy, big-eyed look of a young man trying to watch the audience while he bows--always make your eyes find the floor space between your feet to avoid that.

            Practice with your formal clothes on, including jewelry and shoes.  Pedaling can turn into a nightmare with the wrong shoes, and jackets that are tight across the back can impede motion and ruin a beautiful piece of music.

            The last two weeks, always practice your pieces in the order you plan to play them.  It can be disorienting when you are already nervous and an ear that is used to one order suddenly hears it all in another.  During the last week, close every practice session with one complete run-through, never stopping for an error, but training yourself to cover the best you can.

            Finally, have at least two dress rehearsals, including walking on and off (in the same direction you will that night), bowing, taking curtain calls, and announcing an encore.  Professional performers don’t need these things, of course, but once-in-a-life-timers do.  The silliest things can trip you up if you are not prepared for them.

           Wouldn’t it be great if we had dress rehearsals for life?  We could try out different ways of handling problems and choose the best.  We could correct our mistakes or find clever ways to hide them.  We could plan ahead for every possible eventuality and even choose the order of events.

            No, we don’t get a run-through.  We seldom get second chances.  Most of the time our mistakes are open for all to see, and we must live with the consequences.

            But there is a life manual and there are good people to advise you.  It is not always necessary to learn things on your own—which usually means “the hard way.”  In fact, the Bible says only a “fool” insists on learning in that manner.  Smart people listen to those who have been there before.  They can tell you that a clunky shoe can slip off a pedal with a noisy thunk in the middle of your soft, cantabile passage.  They can warn you about heavy cuff links clicking on the keys.  They can remind you to always make sure the hem of your formal gown is NOT under your heels before you stand up! 

           Actually, they will be telling you about other things—things which can make your life a whole lot easier if you will just listen.  It’s the closest thing to a dress rehearsal you will ever get.  Make good use of it.
 
The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice. Where there is no counsel, purposes are disappointed; but in the multitude of counselors they are established. Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future, Prov 12:15; 15:22; 19:20.
 
Dene Ward
 

Today’s post is by guest writer Keith Ward.
 
I wrote this for a friend I have never met. We thought it might help others also….Keith

You are so busy with so many things
Each is good & right & needs to be done
Who would you leave to fend alone?

“Martha, one thing is needful,” Jesus warned.
It seems certain from the issues of your life
That no matter the stress & strife
You first gave yourself to the life of the reborn.

It is so easy to see only our failings,
The things that went wrong,
Things that robbed us of our song.
The blind focused, “One thing I know” He heals hearts that are ailing.

We forgive others, but our failings are always before us,
So hard to forget the things behind
And do the one thing and press on as Paul reminds.
Yet, this “one thing” will make us joyous.

“One thing you lack”
How often we have wished the number to be so low;
Satan tempts us so sorely, I just don’t know.
But the “one things” will lead you back.

But one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:42
He answered, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” John 9:25
Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, Phil 3:13
And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” Mark 10:21

One year the state music teachers’ convention was held in my district.  Somehow I found myself in charge of the name tags and the registration desk.  Since I did not know most of the people, my standard greeting was, “Welcome to Gainesville.  What’s your name please?”  Then I riffled through a couple of shoeboxes containing the laminated name tags that we hung around our necks.

            The second afternoon a man in his thirties came bustling up to the desk.  His expensive suit was sharp, and probably custom tailored since it fit his rounded figure without a pull or pucker anywhere.  He was well-groomed and carried a leather portfolio that also bespoke of money.  Not your typical music teacher, I thought.  Most of us are clean and tidy, but few of us dress like lawyers.

            He stood before me, but couldn’t be bothered to actually look at me.  Instead, he looked around at the passersby and intoned, “And do you have a name tag for me?” in a deep, full-of-himself voice.

            “I don’t know,” I answered.  “Who are you?”

            Then he looked at me—with an incredulous, wide-eyed stare.  At last lowly little music-teacher-me had gotten his attention.  When he told me his name, I managed to keep a straight face.  He was one of the university professors who also performs on the concert stage.  He had won some international competitions.  In fact, I recognized his name, I had just never seen him in person. 

            That afternoon when the rush had calmed at the table, I told a couple of my friends about my faux pas.  They both laughed.  “Good,” they said.  “He needed that.”

            Do we need something similar?  The Proverb writer says it like this:  Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him, 26:12. 

            Why is it we think so well of ourselves?   Paul reminded the Corinthians, For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it? 1 Cor 4:7.  So you have a gift for speaking, for singing, for teaching, for welcoming visitors—any special ability.  You wouldn’t have that gift if God hadn’t given it to you, so what are you bragging about?

            Why is it we feel so compelled to remind people of our successes?  Why must we pat ourselves on the back whenever the opportunity arises, recounting all our various experiences as examples of wisdom for all to learn from?  We couldn’t have done any of it by ourselves.

            Sometimes those things are used as excuses.  Maybe I didn’t do well this time, but in the past you should have seen all I did for the Lord.  Or, I know I shouldn’t be bragging, but no one else seems to notice what I’ve done. 

            God notices.  Who else should we care about?  Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends, 2 Cor 10:17,18.

            I think this happens most with age.  As older men and women teaching the younger, we must be careful how we come across.  It isn’t an episode of “This Is Your Life,” where we can boast about all the wonderful things we have done in the past, careful to leave out the bad examples, of course.  It’s about edifying and encouraging others.  That attitude must always be with us.

            Don’t worry if people don’t know who you are and what you have done.  God holds the name tags, and he won’t have to ask who you are.
 
For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. Rom 12:3
 
Dene Ward
 

I just took my 88 year old mother grocery shopping.  In the past two or three years, her eyesight has gone downhill considerably.  She has to be careful when she picks up an item to make sure it is the right variety, especially as a type 2 diabetic.  “No sugar added” or “sugar free” are important to her. 

          My eyes aren’t much, if any better, than hers.  But having shopped for her several times recently when she was ill, I had a much easier time of it.  I have been dealing with bad eyesight since I was born.  When you cannot see well, you adapt.  I learned a lot of tricks a long time ago.  I cannot see faces across a room, but I recognize walks; I memorize clothing colors; I know voices and laughs.  So after the first time I shopped for my mother I knew that her variety of yogurt had a little blue circle on it.  I didn’t need to turn the box upside down looking for the necessary phrase, nor try to read the fine print.  I didn’t even need to know that the little blue circle said “60 calories.”  The reason the calorie count is so low is that there is “no sugar added.”  I learned that the first time, when I did have to pick up the box, hold it close to my nose and scour the surface.  I learned that her favored fruit cups have a blue banner on them.  No blue banner and it’s the wrong fruit cup.  I do a lot of things like that.

            A long time ago we did not have color coded road signs.  But once they came out, I was home free.  I picked up on the colors immediately.  Forty years ago we were in a strange town visiting a friend at a hospital.  We did not know exactly where the hospital was, but it was a small town so we figured we could find it.  As we crossed every intersection I looked one way down the cross street and Keith looked the other.  “There!” I said.  “Turn here.”

            Keith turned and seeing no hospital said, “How do you know?”

            “Because there’s a square blue sign down there.”

            “So?” he said.

         “Hospital signs are blue squares with a big H on them.”  And sure enough, as we got closer, there was an H on that sign and two blocks later the hospital appeared on our right.  I could not read the sign, but I could see a blue square. 

          Before long Keith picked up on the color coding too.  When we camp, we always look for brown, the telltale color of a state park sign.

         Do you know why I can do those things?  Because it’s necessary to my functioning independently.  As long as I want to do for myself, regardless my decreasing vision, I pick up on these things and use them.  My various eye drops have different colored tops.  The individual vials that look almost the same, feel different in my hands.  That is very important because each eye requires different medications.  I could cause a lot of damage if I mixed things up. 
           I started teaching myself these things before I could even read.  When I was 4 and there were a lot fewer car models, I recognized them by their taillights.  It used to tickle my Daddy to death when I identified cars to startled friends and neighbors.  I learned those tricks and devices then and I just keep on doing it.  It’s habit, and it’s habit because it’s important.

          Now don’t tell me you can’t learn Bible facts because you are “too old” or you’re “not smart enough.”  That is not the problem.  The problem is that it’s not important enough to you.  Didn’t you have to take a driving test?  How about tests at work to earn promotions?  When it becomes a necessity in your mind, you can do just fine.  You may have to learn a few mnemonic devices, but you can do it.  I am not good with numbers any longer, but I always remember what side of the page a verse is on, and once I remember the book I can browse through and find it.  I make up silly songs and sing them (silently) in my head.  I remember alphabetic tricks. 

          And finally there is this:  if you read something enough times and study it deeply enough, not just once but again and again and again, you will eventually know it just like you know your own name, address, phone number, cell number, social security number, PIN number, and the dozen passwords you have to know to function in this technological world.  And I bet you know the addresses and most of the phone numbers you had before the ones you have now.  Why?  Because you had to know them all at one point in your life.  4916 Bristol Court, 8011 Pine Hill Drive, 125 W Walnut Street, Route 4 Oak Drive, Route 2 Box 790-B, Route 3 Box 1559—all of those used to be my addresses, the first one before I even started elementary school.

          Don’t tell me you can’t learn the Bible.  Don’t tell me that so-and-so’s Bible class is too deep.  Don’t tell me you can’t remember the 12 sons of Jacob, the judges, the kings, the apostles, and all the books of the Bible.  If you can’t, it’s because you don’t want to badly enough.  It isn’t necessary for you to function in this life.  And that’s where the problem lies.  God and His Word do not constitute your life and your reason for being.  If they did, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.
​
With my whole heart I seek you; let me not wander from your commandments! I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you…In the way of your testimonies I delight as much as in all riches. I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways. I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word. Ps 119:10-11,14-16
 
Dene Ward

It’s fun watching them gradually realize that Grandma is Daddy’s Mom and that Gran-gran is Daddy’s Grandma, that Uncle is Daddy’s big brother and Grandma is Gran-gran’s little girl.  Silas is beginning to figure it out, but Judah still gets a funny look on his face when you try to explain it.  He raises those little eyebrows, cuts his eyes around and purses those lips—“And what have you been drinking?” he seems to think—except he wouldn’t understand that either.

We want them to know who family is because family matters.  We want them to understand that Silas’s middle name may be the name of an apostle, but it is also the name of one of his great-great-grandfathers; that Judah’s middle name may be the name of a great prophet, priest, and judge but it is the name of another great-great-grandfather as well.  Even if they never knew those men, there is a connection.

Just look at the book of Obadiah.  By the time it was written, few, if any, of the Edomites knew the Jews personally, but it still mattered to God that a long time before Jacob and Esau had been brothers.  He expected those two nations to treat each other like brothers.

Because of the violence done to your brother Jacob, shame shall cover you, and you shall be cut off forever. ​On the day that you stood aloof, on the day that strangers carried off his wealth and foreigners entered his gates and cast lots for Jerusalem, you were like one of them. But do not gloat over the day of your brother in the day of his misfortune; do not rejoice over the people of Judah in the day of their ruin; do not boast in the day of distress. ​Do not enter the gate of my people in the day of their calamity; do not gloat over his disaster in the day of his calamity; do not loot his wealth in the day of his calamity. ​Do not stand at the crossroads to cut off his fugitives; do not hand over his survivors in the day of distress. Obadiah 1:10-14.

Because they did not help, because they “gloated” over their brothers’ misfortune, because they actively stood in the way to prevent escape, God judged the Edomites and destroyed them.  Their relationship with Israel was many generations removed, their people’s knowledge of one another socially was small if at all, yet they were still expected to act like brothers.

So what does God think about siblings who argue over estates?  About grudges that are held for decades?  About bad feelings that are passed down to the next generation instead of being hid out of shame that such a thing exists in their hearts?  God expects better of families, and why?  Because that is the model for His people, the church.

The church is often described as “the household (family) of God,” and that makes us brothers and sisters.  God expects us to act like flesh and blood brothers and sisters.  He expects us to love one another because we are spiritually related—family.  He expects us to forgive, to forbear, to help, to encourage and yes, even to admonish just as an older brother or sister would a younger one.  And it does not matter whether we “know” one another or not.

Let’s add this quickly because someone is thinking it—yes, God even expects us to put His spiritual family ahead of our physical families; but assuming that is not an issue, my family life, even with the most distant of relatives, had better be a good one.  How else will I know how to treat my brothers and sisters in Christ?
 
Do not rebuke an older man but encourage him as you would a father, younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, younger women as sisters, in all purity. 1Tim 5:1-2
 
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

When I am speaking to several hundred ladies, I cannot see the faces in front of me much past the first row.  But more often than not, I speak to much smaller groups, as few as a dozen up to fifty or sixty.  I can usually see more of those faces, at least the ones in the front half of the room.  Other speakers do not have my problem.  The preacher in your congregation may well be able to see every one of you.  You might be surprised at what you tell him as you sit there.  I have seen all of these things myself, just in the first few rows, so I know it’s true.

            A speaker knows when your mind is on something else.  You have a tendency to stare.  Your eyes glaze over and you miss all the cues—everyone laughs but you don’t; people turn pages in their Bibles and yours sits in your lap untouched; an inappropriate smile creases your face after a serious and sober statement.

            A speaker knows when you have somewhere to be right after services.  You keep looking at your watch.  You start patting your foot about 5 minutes before the usual ending time.  You stack up your Bibles before he even begins the invitation and have the songbook ready as if you could actually rush the song leader through the invitation song.

            A speaker knows when you are bored.  You stop looking at him and start fiddling with things—doodling, flipping through your Bible or the song book, making notes about something even when he hasn’t clicked the Power Point or listed a passage. 

            A speaker knows when you disagree with him.  You squint and pull that lower lip into a frown.  You start rapidly flipping through your Bible and running your fingers down the pages looking for ways to contradict him.  You cross your arms and huff.  Sometimes you even shake your head for all to see.

            A speaker knows when you are sick or just plain tired.  You try your best to listen, but keep losing interest.  You grimace.  You touch your stomach or rub your head or try gallantly not to nod off, only to do so at least three or four times.

            A speaker also knows when you are eagerly listening, trying your best to take in what he is saying and accommodate it to all the other things you have learned about that particular subject.  He recognizes a lover of God’s Word and that person, and his fellows, are why he does what he does, week after week, no matter how few of you there might be.

            Do you think God doesn’t know the same things about us?  Sometimes I wonder.  It doesn’t really matter what the preacher sees on our faces or in our actions.  No matter how far back I sit, God still knows the heart I bring to His worship.  He knows whether I am coming to please Him or to see how much everyone can please me.  He knows whether I have a heart of repentance or one that just goes through the motions.

            So this Sunday, be careful the tales you tell from your seat—even without opening your mouth.
 
“As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.’ And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lustful songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it. Ezek 33:30-32
 
Dene Ward

Over forty years ago Time-Life put out cookbooks containing authentic recipes from all over the world.  I picked up some of them at a used book store in the 70s and several recipes have found a permanent place in my repertoire.  From the Chinese book I cook Pepper Steak, Sweet and Sour Pork, and Egg Rolls that are as good as any Chinese restaurant’s I have ever had.  From the Italian one I use the Pasta Fagioli, the pizza dough and the marinara most often.

            That marinara may, in fact, be the recipe I use more than any other.  From it I make pizza sauce, spaghetti sauce, and the sauces for eggplant parmagiana, chicken parmagiana, and anything else you can parmagiana.  I use it with meatballs, ground beef, and Italian sausage on pasta, and as a dipping sauce for calzones.  You can change it up with various herbs and extra vegetables like mushrooms and peppers.             

            Whenever I serve it, I get remarks like, “Wow!  This tastes so—Italian!”  Indeed, and why shouldn’t it when it is made the way Italians like it—olive oil, onions, garlic, tomatoes, basil, salt and pepper, and a little tomato paste if your tomatoes are extra juicy.  It is simple.  I can put it together in ten minutes and let it simmer for 30-40 with only a stir here and there.  It has thoroughly spoiled my family. 

            Once, because it was on sale and we were in a hurry, I picked up a canned sauce, one of the better ones as I recall, not simply Ragu.  After the first bite, Keith looked at me and said, “What is this?  Tomato syrup?”  You see, Americans have become so addicted to sugar that nearly all the processed sauces are full of it. 

            I watched a blind taste test on a television show once, a homemade tomato sauce made by a trained chef, an authentic Italian sauce a whole lot like mine, against a national brand in a jar.  The majority preferred the jarred one.  They said the homemade one wasn’t sweet enough.  Why doesn’t that make people sit up and take notice?  Pasta and sugar?  Yuk.  It even sounds awful.  But that’s what Americans want it seems; not the true, authentic sauce, but the syrupy one they have grown accustomed to.
 
            I think the same thing has happened with religion.  It doesn’t matter to
us how the first century church did things.  What matters is the hoopla, the spectacle, and the histrionics we have grown accustomed to.  If it excites us and makes us feel good, that’s what we want.  If I can compartmentalize the corporate part of it into a once-every-week-or-so pep rally, and then live as I prefer with no one bothering me about it, then religion has served its purpose.

            That religion--mainstream denominational religion--has totally changed its focus.  It is nothing but a religion of self.  Authentic religion is about God.   It wants only what God wants.  It lives only for Him and his purpose.  It understands that whether I am happy or comfortable or excited has nothing to do with faithfulness.  In fact, faithfulness is often shown best when those things are lacking. 

            Authenticity in religion does matter if you mean to be worshipping someone besides yourself.  I remember the days of old; I meditate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands. I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land, Psalm 143:5,6.  When David was in trouble, when it mattered how God received him—he thought back to the old days.  The prophets often told the people to repent and go back to the old ways, the times when they worshiped God truly, instead of pleasing themselves in hedonistic idolatry.

            If you find yourself dissatisfied with your religious life, if you see differences in how your group attempts to worship God and how the original Christians did, maybe it’s time for you to go on the hunt for some authenticity.  Do it before you become addicted to the noise and excitement.  It is possible to worship in simplicity and truth.  It is possible to be encouraged by like minded brothers and sisters who want to please God instead of themselves.  In the end, they come far closer to the selfless ideal of their Savior than those who are determined to have what they want “because that’s how I like it,” instead of caring anything at all about how God might like it.
 
Thus says the LORD: "Stand by the roads, and look, and ask for the ancient paths, where the good way is; and walk in it, and find rest for your souls. But they said, 'We will not walk in it.' I set watchmen over you, saying, 'Pay attention to the sound of the trumpet!' But they said, 'We will not pay attention.' Therefore hear, O nations, and know, O congregation, what will happen to them. Hear, O earth; behold, I am bringing disaster upon this people, the fruit of their devices, because they have not paid attention to my words; and as for my law, they have rejected it, Jer 6:16-19.
 
Dene Ward
 

I recently followed a link on Facebook to an excellent article on parenting.  I, and many others, commended the article, and I even passed it on myself.  The title to that article contained a figure of speech, actually two-in-one, both hyperbole and metonymy.  The hyperbole seemed to be the one that had a couple of people up in arms.  Notice, I said just a couple.  Everyone else understood perfectly well what was being said. 

            And why would they understand those big hard to spell words, metonymy and hyperbole?  Because we all use both those figures every day.  You do not have to know what they are called to use them.  Just concentrate on hyperbole for a moment.  Have you ever said things like this?

            “You do that every time!”

            “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.”

            “It’s so hot out here I’m about to melt!”

            “I have a million things to do.”

            “If I can’t have those new shoes, I’m gonna die.”

            We know exactly what every one of those statements mean.  It is no mystery.  It’s not even difficult.  So why do we get all in a frenzy over using hyperboles (exaggerations to make a point) when talking about spiritual things—especially when the Bible does it again and again?

            Where are we going up? Our brothers have made our hearts melt, saying, “The people are greater and taller than we. The cities are great and fortified up to heaven. And besides, we have seen the sons of the Anakim there.”’ Deut 1:28

            Among all these were 700 chosen men who were left-handed; every one could sling a stone at a hair and not miss. Judg 20:16

            And the king made silver and gold as common in Jerusalem as stone, and he made cedar as plentiful as the sycamore of the Shephelah. 2Chr 1:15

            For every beast of the forest is mine, the cattle on a thousand hills. Ps 50:10

            “Yet it was I who destroyed the Amorite before them, whose height was like the height of the cedars and who was as strong as the oaks; I destroyed his fruit above and his roots beneath. Amos 2:9

            That’s just a tiny portion of the hyperboles used in the Old Testament, probably less than 1%, but what about the New?  Just this past Sunday, our preacher began his sermon with the statement, “Our Lord loved hyperboles.”  He then read portions of Matthew 18:1-22, where Jesus used one after the other after the other.  And these are not even the half by a mile (aha! a hyperbole!).  Here are some others:  “Let not your right hand know what your left hand doeth.”  “Go into your closet to pray.”  “It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than a rich man to enter Heaven.” Etc., etc., etc. 

            Even the common people used them and plainly understood them.  So the Pharisees said to one another, “You see that you are gaining nothing. Look, the world has gone after him.” John 12:19

           Then we have Paul using hyperboles in his teaching. In Gal 5:12 about the Judaizers he said, “I wish they would go beyond circumcision,” certainly a hyperbole.

           And here is one the denominational world misuses all the time: Paul said, I thank God that I baptized none of you save Crispus and Gaius, 1 Cor 1:14.  Do we really think Paul was glad he did not baptize more people personally?  No!  The point was that because of what the Corinthians were doing with the matter of who baptized whom—making divisions in the church—he was just as happy that few could do that with his name.  He would certainly have baptized anyone who wanted to be baptized if he had not had so many helpers traveling with him to do it. 

           Paul used an exaggeration to make a point, just as his Savior did over and over and over.  And the prophets before him between Kings and Malachi.  And the writers of the histories, and the Law.  And the poets probably more than anyone.  I recently ran across a book called Figures of Speech in the Bible.  The hyperbole section included 86 “examples,” meaning just a small amount of the total.  There must be literally (not hyperbolically) thousands of hyperboles in the Bible.  And many of the men who used them are set forth for us as examples to follow.  Yet all my life I have seen people try to take them literally, as if God had no idea how to communicate with us in everyday language, and jump on preacher’s for using something “that might be misunderstood.”

           Why would they do that when they would turn right around and say to their children, “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times…”?  Maybe we jump on these things as our excuse not to listen to something we would rather ignore.  That article I mentioned did touch a few nerves.  But if we think we are well-versed in the scriptures, we need to be sure our objections do not make us appear otherwise.
 
Woe unto them that are wise in their own eyes, and prudent in their own sight! Isa 5:21
 
Dene Ward