In honor of my mother whom we will bury this week, a repeat from the past.  I hope to be back to regular posting on Monday, December 2.

When I was a very young teenager, we lived next door to a family with five children under the age of ten.  We were new in the area and didn’t know them very well, but we knew those basics. 

              One Sunday morning my mother was reading the newspaper over a last cup of coffee when I heard her gasp.  The paper slipped out of her fingers into her lap and onto the floor.  The father of the family next door had been killed in an automobile collision the night before. 

              She immediately dressed and walked over to our neighbors’ home to see what she could do.  About an hour later we left for worship services as usual.  While we were there she organized a food drive, asking individuals in the church to bring whatever shelf stable items they could spare on Wednesday evening.  Afterward we headed back home, but my mother wasn’t finished.

              We walked in to that wonderful Sunday aroma of pot roast.  Even after all these years, I have never been able to replicate my mother’s.  But instead of immediately changing clothes and starting to prepare our dinner, she grabbed an apron and started telling my sister and I what she needed us to do.  She made the gravy, heated the rolls, and then proceeded to pack up the entire meal.  We stowed it all in big cardboard boxes in the trunk and then drove to the home of the man’s parents, where his wife and children had gathered with the rest of the family.  I remember walking up the steps to that frame house, holding that hot gravy in a Tupperware container, careful not to squeeze too tight so the steam wouldn’t cause the lid to pop right off.  We handed our dinner to the stunned people inside, then offered condolences and drove back home.

              We came in, changed clothes and sat down to paper plates, bologna, and bread.  There was nothing else easy to prepare on short notice.  Understand this:  I hated bologna.  But I relished every bite of that sandwich.  Nothing had ever tasted so good.  That’s what giving does to you.  That is precisely why Jesus said, “It is more blessed to give than to receive.”

              I have often wondered if I have given my children enough of those kind of memories, lessons learned that you never forget, not even the smallest details.  Are you doing that for your children?  Do they see things that involve them and stay with them, teaching them the joy of giving to those in need, even if it costs you a little something. 

              I learned it the day I ate that sandwich and loved every bite of it and I have never forgotten that lesson.  And in case you wondered, our brothers and sisters in the church came through on that food drive.  We went to Bible study that Wednesday night expecting at most a couple brown grocery bags full to add to the one we brought.  I think we took three empties just in case to store the cans and boxes we expected to be handed.  Almost every member brought their own brown paper bag and nearly every one of them was full to the top. 

              We stopped next door on our way home, and carried those bags in that Wednesday night.  The new young widow watched in amazement as the four of us traipsed back and forth to the car, over and over and over.  We covered her table, her countertops, and half her kitchen floor with grocery bags.  That’s another sight I will never forget—her grabbing my mother around the neck and squeezing tightly as she said, “Thank you, thank you, oh thank you,” again and again and again, tears running down her cheeks.  It’s been over forty years, but it’s like it was yesterday as I sit here remembering. 

              Learn the gift of generous giving, giving even out of want, giving when it costs you something.  And above all, teach your children exactly how amazing a bologna sandwich can taste.
 
We want you to know, brothers, about the grace of God that has been given among the churches of Macedonia, for in a severe test of affliction, their abundance of joy and their extreme poverty have overflowed in a wealth of generosity on their part. For they gave according to their means, as I can testify, and beyond their means, of their own accord, begging us earnestly for the favor of taking part in the relief of the saints— and this, not as we expected, but they gave themselves first to the Lord and then by the will of God to us. Accordingly, we urged Titus that as he had started, so he should complete among you this act of grace. But as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in all earnestness, and in our love for you— see that you excel in this act of grace also. 2Cor 8:1-7.
 
Hilda Ayers passed from this life into glory on November 20, 2019.

              She was born on June 12, 1928, in Jakin, Georgia, just across the Florida-Georgia state line.  Her mother, Estelle, had returned to her childhood home with her 18 month old son Harvey Lee (Dick) to have her second child while her husband Joseph Lee Davis stayed home to continue his work as a carpenter.  Three weeks later, he returned to pick up his growing family and take them back home to Winter Garden, Florida, in a small frame house at 91 N. Main St.

              Winter Garden sits in Central Florida just 10 miles from Orlando, the typical small southern town with a railroad running down the center and diagonal parking in front of a dime store, a barber shop, a bank, a Piggly Wiggly, and a drug store complete with soda fountain.  This small town was surrounded by orange groves and packing houses—at least until the Mouse became king.

              Hilda graduated from Lakeview High School in 1946 and a year later, on September 6, 1947, married her high school sweetheart, Gerald Ayers.  Their strong marriage lasted 64 years, until his death on September 11, 2011.  Their first home was in Winter Garden, but with Gerald's job changes and promotions they also lived in Orlando, Palmetto, Tampa, and Orlando once again where he retired.

              She was mainly a stay-at-home mom, but whenever the need arose, she took a job and worked as a bank teller, as a clerk in the registrar's office of the University of South Florida, and finally as an administrative assistant in the Orange County School System in Winter Garden, back where it all began.

              After retirement they enjoyed a small bit of traveling, but stayed active in the Lord's church wherever they lived.  They left behind a string of good deeds, generous gifts, and the strong example of godly lives. 

              In 2015, Hilda moved to Gainesville to be closer to her older daughter for both companionship and care.  She became a member of the Glen Springs Road church and instantly made a host of new friends with her sweet disposition and quick wit.  She will be missed by too many to list.

              Hilda is survived by her daughters Dene (Mrs. Keith) Ward of Lake Butler and Donna (Mrs. Dennis) Craig of Roanoke, Texas,  brother Johnnie (Jan) Davis of Leesburg, sister Bonnie MacDonald of Elijay, Georgia, 9 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren.  She was pre-deceased by husband Gerald, brother Harvey Lee (Dick) Davis, and sister Jo Ann Webb.

              Her biggest legacy is this:  of her 2 children, 9 grandchildren and 7 great-grandchildren and their appropriate spouses, every one of those who are accountable before God are His faithful children.  Her great faith will live on.

Dene Ward

I remembered recently a walk Chloe and I took one morning when she was still a puppy.  It was a particularly nice day.  The steam bath of a Florida summer had given way to the milder warmth of early fall.  Migrating birds had stopped for the breakfast buffet in the nearby woods.  My hawk called good morning from high overhead.  A breeze fluffed up the grass and sent cotton ball clouds scudding across the sky.  Our world was filled with beauty and peace.

            All of a sudden, down at my feet, Chloe belched.  This was not the dainty puff of air I sometimes hear from our older heeler, who then looks at me with embarrassed, downcast eyes.  This was a full-blown, open-mouthed belch that, proportionate to her size, would have rivaled any beer-bellied redneck.  I laughed out loud from the sheer shock of it.  I had never heard a puppy belch.  I didn’t even know it was possible.  Puppies are cute; puppies are playful; puppies are sweet and innocent.  Hearing Chloe belch certainly ruined that image.

            Unfortunately, image is one thing and reality is something else entirely. Sometimes we forget that and set ourselves up for a lot of disappointment that could be avoided.  And sometimes that disappointment costs us our faith.

            Consider this one thing, among many others:  how much more shocked are we when a preacher or elder falls?  “What hypocrites!” we instantly accuse.  Yet, isn’t it a poor preacher who cannot preach better than he can practice?  Why should his inability to be perfect (which we have no problem telling him about otherwise) keep us from trying at all?  The reality is we all fail once in a while, even though our image of them says they shouldn’t.

            Whenever someone says to me, “I’ll never go to that church because some of the people there are hypocrites,” I usually answer, “Even the apostles had a Judas among them, but they did not let that make them forsake their Lord.” 

            To those who leave the church “because of all the hypocrites,” Keith usually says, “And you are going to leave the Lord’s church in their hands?”  You see, what it all boils down to is yet more excuses for our own behavior.

            No matter how well put together people seem on the outside, everyone has problems.  Sometimes the worst problem anyone can have is trying to live up to another person’s image of him.  If anyone knows he is not perfect, it is usually the one whom everyone else thinks is.  Not preachers, not elders, not elders’ wives, not great Bible scholars—no one is without fault.

            That person you think is a perfect wife?  Once in a while she nags.  That person you think is a great husband?  Once in a while, he leaves his dirty clothes in the floor.  That couple you think have a perfect family?  Once in a while their children roll their eyes at their parents and actually rebel a little.  That one you think is always so kind and sweet?  Once in a while she loses her temper. 

            Never blame your own faithlessness on the imperfections of others.  No one is perfect.  Don’t let your image of how things ought to be, rob you of your faith when reality checks in.

            Even puppies belch.
 
If you, O Jehovah, should mark iniquities, who could stand?  But there is forgiveness with you that you may be feared.  I wait for Jehovah, my soul does wait, and in his word do I hope.  O Israel, hope in Jehovah, for with Jehovah there is lovingkindness, and with him is plenteous forgiveness.   Psalm 130:3,4,7.
 
Dene Ward

Most of us are familiar with the history of the Pilgrims.  We know they left England looking for both religious and economic freedom.  We also know they arrived at land on November 21, 1620, though they spent most of that winter ferrying back and forth to the ship.  What I did not realize was the date they left England—September 16.  Why on earth would they leave just as fall was about to begin, knowing they would not arrive in time to build warm homes or plant anything?
 
             Turns out they originally left in July, but had to turn back twice.  Their sister ship, the Speedwell, leaked!  Eventually they went on without her.  In addition they were headed for Virginia and were blown off course by stormy seas.  All in all, this led to a disastrous winter, with over half the colonists succumbing. 

             It was the next fall that they celebrated that first Thanksgiving meal with their new Native American friends.  All of us know about the pilgrims, and can even recognize their dress.  I always have the famous Publix Pilgrim salt and pepper shakers on my holiday table with their buckled shoes, and brown clothing.  And that reminds me…

              Thirty years ago I saw a dress in a catalogue that I adored.  My style tends to be plain, tailored, and dark.  I generally like a blousy waistline because it makes me look like I have one, which I haven’t had since I was about two years old.  Every time that catalogue came, I salivated over that dress, a black shirtwaist with long button-cuff sleeves and a broad, white collar embroidered on the edges.  At that time we just couldn’t afford it.  Feeding two teenage boys and paying a mortgage on a state salary and music studio tuitions was almost more than we could handle.

              A couple of years ago I was wandering through a second hand clothing store.  You would be surprised the bargains you can find if you are careful.  I have bought name brands for literally one-tenth their original price, some of them with the original price tags still on them, the extra buttons still sealed in plastic. 

              That day I saw the black arms hanging out from the press of the rack; I saw the white collar.  Could it be?  I checked the neckline for the label and found the old catalogue name.  So I pulled it out and felt a thrill.  This was the dress I had wished for.  Twenty years ago it was a $45 dress.  This store wanted $6.00!  Then came the moment of truth:  I checked the size.  Yes!  Just to make sure, I tried it on, and then quickly shelled out my $6 and change for tax.  It almost made me believe in fate.

              This dress is long sleeved and a fairly heavy knit so it was just after Thanksgiving before I could wear it here in Florida.  I wore it to church that Sunday.  One of the first people I saw, a sweet five year old, came running up and exclaimed, “Mrs. Dene!  You look just like a pilgrim!”  I laughed a little, gave her a hug and thanked her.  Before I was halfway down the hall, another child came running up and said the same thing, word for word. 

              Okay, I thought.  I look like a pilgrim.  Maybe it’s too close to Thanksgiving to wear this.

              In the middle of January I wore it again.  A third sweet child gave me the same compliment.  It was enough to make me wonder, do they teach this phrase in the Bible classes these days?  But I suppose what capped it all was a good friend who came up to me and laughed, saying, “You look like a pilgrim!”

              I donated the dress to another thrift store.  All I could see when I looked in the mirror were the missing white cap, buckled shoes and white stockings.  It certainly isn’t what I thought of when I used to moon over that catalogue.

              I wonder if Abraham and Sarah had in mind the pilgrim life God had planned for them when they answered the call to “Go to a land I will show you.”  That doesn’t necessarily sound like they would always be nomads.  It doesn’t sound like they would never have an earthly home again.  When someone tells me to go, usually they have a specific destination in mind.

              Even if they didn’t understand that in the beginning, they finally did.  By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God, Heb 11:8-10.  Eventually they knew they would never have a home on this earth, that the real one was waiting beyond the border of physical life and death.

              We must eventually, and as soon as possible, learn the same thing.  Our culture is too caught up in the here and now, in instant gratification, in “if it feels good do it.”  We think this is what matters.  That’s why we let it bother us so much when things do not go right.  That’s why we become angry over the inconsequential and throw away the truly valuable, including our hope.  They made me mad and they are going to know it!  They took what’s mine, and I have a right to take it back.  They hurt me and now I am going to hurt them—usually in exactly the same low way they hurt me. 

              If I know what it means to be a pilgrim in this world, none of that matters.  I don’t need to throw a tantrum.  I don’t need to get even.  I don’t need to have more and more and more because everyone else has it.  I don’t even need an easy, carefree life with no trials.  It will never compare to Heaven no matter how wonderful it is, and it certainly isn’t worth giving up Heaven for.

              Maybe I should have kept the “Pilgrim” dress.  Maybe it would have reminded me of things I need to remember, when I need to remember them most.  Maybe you need to wear it, too.
 
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. 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, Heb 11:13,15.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Gal. 3:13  "Christ redeemed us from the curse"

Have you ever noticed that things in this world just don't work right?  That things don't seem to be as they ought to be?  We know that this is because of sin, that the world has been cursed because of our sin.  We know that the sacrifice of the Lord washes us free of our sins and offers us entrance to eternal salvation, but did you realize that Jesus's sacrifice also corrects all that is wrong with this world?  He not only removes from us the curse of damnation, but all aspects of the curse of sin in this world.  Let me show you what I mean:

Gen. 11:1-9.  The Tower of Babel.  We all know this story.  In the days after the Flood, when  all the earth spoke one language the people gathered together and in their arrogance decided to build a city and a tower such that their name would live on forever.  God decided to put a stop to this foolishness by confusing the languages of the people.  Suddenly, the people were divided into many different groups based on the new languages they spoke and were scattered across the Earth.  Compare that to the description God gives of His new kingdom in Zeph. 3:9-10.  “For at that time I will change the speech of the peoples to a pure speech, that all of them may call upon the name of the LORD and serve him with one accord.  From beyond the rivers of Cush my worshipers, the daughter of my dispersed ones, shall bring my offering."  Some think that the "pure speech" refers to an end to vulgarity and profanity, but notice what this speech allows:  ALL may call upon the Lord with ONE ACCORD.  Instead of everyone speaking different languages and being divided, with this new speech all can come together to praise Him.  Also, notice that His people are being called from the farthest reaches of the world.  "Beyond the rivers of Cush" was literally off the map for the people of Judah.  "Here be dragons."  So, instead of being scattered across the earth by the confusion of Babel, the new language gathers His worshippers together to join in praising Him. 

At least in one sense we have the fulfillment of this prophecy today.  Every Sunday, in gathering places all over the world, and regardless of the language spoken, we join in using His language to proclaim His death.  1 Cor. 11:26  "For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes."
 
Another well-known story is found in Ex. 33:17-23.  Moses asks to see God's face.  He is told that he will be allowed to see the back of God, but not His face.  Ex. 33:20  "But,” he said, “you cannot see my face, for man shall not see me and live.”  Notice how God says this.  "Cannot . . . for man shall not".  Not man cannot, but man shall not.  This indicates a decision God has made rather than a statement of the nature of man.  God has chosen that sinful man shall not see His face.  Ex. 33:23 "my face shall not be seen.”  This isn't the way things have always been.  Gen. 3:8-9  "And they heard the sound of Jehovah God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of Jehovah God amongst the trees of the garden.  And Jehovah God called unto the man, and said unto him, Where art thou?"  It isn't a surprise to Adam and Eve that God came to walk with them.  They were shamed at being caught in sin, but this is written as if it were a completely normal thing for them to take a stroll with God in the evening.  Mankind used to regularly see God's face.  Then Adam and Eve sinned and God stood before them one more time to pronounce judgment, and from that day forth "man shall not see me and live".   Jesus's sacrifice corrects this, too.  In Ezek. 20:35 when God prophesies about reconstituting the righteous remnant into His new kingdom He promises that He will judge them face-to-face.  The beatitudes include the statement that pure in heart shall see God.  Most telling is Rev. 22:4.  As John describes the reward awaiting those saved in Christ he says, in part, "and they shall see his face; and his name shall be on their foreheads."  In Christ we will again be able to stand in His presence and see His face.  Evening walks with God will again become a possibility. 
 
Perhaps the most egregious perversion of God's creation to me personally is the introduction of hard, sweaty toil as the means by which we survive.  God never intended for man to be lazy.  Gen. 2:15 tells us that Adam was put into the Garden to "dress and keep it."  There was a task for Adam to complete, but it couldn't have been too hard.  How much difficulty is entailed in keeping a Garden in which weeds don't grow, molds don't develop and thorns don't exist?  Adam and Eve had enough to stay busy, but there was no hard labor.  That all changed when they sinned, specifically with the sentence pronounced upon Adam.  Gen. 3:17-19  "And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in toil shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life; thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field; in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return."  In toil shall you eat, in the sweat of thy face shall you eat.  No more was there only enough light work to make life meaningful.  Now it was toil, drudgery, pain, setbacks, and sweaty labor.  Also, God says this toil continues until we die.  Everyday work until you die. 

This isn't what God intended.  Through Christ this, too, can be corrected.  In Deut. 12:8-10 Moses tells the people that rest was part of what made the Promised Land so wonderful, but God tells us in Ps. 95:10-11 "Forty years long was I grieved with that generation, And said, It is a people that do err in their heart, And they have not known my ways:  Wherefore I sware in my wrath, That they should not enter into my rest."  The writer of Hebrews makes much of this, concluding that if they hadn't entered into God's rest then "there remaineth therefore a sabbath rest for the people of God."  Heb. 4:9.  He goes on to say that just as Jesus had completed His tasks and rested, so there is a rest for us.  In Christ, there will be rest from the constant toiling of this world.   He fixed that issue, too.
 
The last problem we will discuss is our separation from the Tree of Life.  Gen. 2:9 tells us that God put the Tree into the Garden and in vs. 16-17 He tells Adam that he could eat whatever he wanted except for the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  That means that Adam could eat of the Tree of Life.  After the Fall, God drove out Adam and Eve specifically to keep them from the Tree of Life:  Gen. 3:22-24  "And Jehovah God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil; and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever--therefore Jehovah God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.  So he drove out the man; and he placed at the east of the garden of Eden the Cherubim, and the flame of a sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life."  And so death entered the world, as we see in the next two chapters.  Cain kills Abel in chapter four, followed by a unique genealogy in chapter five.  Each person's life is briefly described and capped with "and he died."  Over and over, "and he died".  Because of sin, death entered the world.  Nobody escapes this sentence.  As the cliche goes, the only things sure in this life are death and taxes.   Jesus fixes this, too.  Rev. 22:1-2  "And he showed me a river of water of life, bright as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and of the Lamb,  in the midst of the street thereof. And on this side of the river and on that was the tree of life, bearing twelve manner of fruits, yielding its fruit every month: and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations."  The Garden of Eden apparently had one Tree of Life.  The Eternal Kingdom in Heaven will have a whole grove of Trees of Life encompassing a river flowing with the Water of Life.  Through sin death entered the world.  Through Christ we have access to life, and life eternal. 
 
Jesus's sacrifice has or will correct all the things that sin has perverted in this world.  Everything that sin made wrong, Christ will make right. 
 
Rev. 22:3  "And there shall be no curse any more."
 
Lucas Ward

As for me, I said in my prosperity, “I shall never be moved.” Psalm 30:6.
 
              Several scholars believe Psalm 30 concerns the time David numbered the people of Israel and God punished them with a pestilence.  Before we get any further, let me caution you to read this in the 1 Chronicles 21 account and not just 2 Samuel 24.  You will get a much better portrait of David in Chronicles, one much more fitting a “man after God’s own heart.”
 
             But no matter when in David’s life this psalm was written, he tells us in verse 6 exactly what caused his problem.  In his prosperity he relied too much on himself.  Oh, he recognizes that his wealth and security came from God, v 7a, but he was so smug about it that God “hid His face.”  It was “my mountain,” not God’s, and if this is the time of the numbering, he was so full of himself that he sent Joab around not to take a full census, but to count “those who can wield a sword.”  He wanted to know how strong he was now that his foes were destroyed and his land was at peace, even though God told the people not to worry about such things, but to trust Him.  Even a man such as Joab knew that this numbering was not a good idea. 

              Here is what we as Americans steadfastly refuse to see, even Christians:  there is no temptation so great as prosperity.  Not just wealth, but security and peace along with it.  The scriptures are full of the warnings, but we heed them not.  What do we all want?  To get ahead.  What do we spend our lives doing?  Making money.  What do we dream about?  Being rich. 

              But hear this:  the New Testament does not speak of wealth in any way but as dangerous to our spiritual health. 

                Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth…For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.  Matt 6:19,21.

              As for what was sown among thorns, this is the one who hears the word, but the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches choke the word, and it proves unfruitful, Matt 13:22.

              Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God, Matt 19:24.

              And he said to them, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions, Luke 12:15.

              But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation, into a snare, into many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evils. It is through this craving that some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pangs, 1 Tim 6:9,10.

              Why do we insist on standing in the rattlesnake’s nest?  I understand wanting your children to have more and better than you did, but I do not want their souls at risk, and from everything I see and read in the Book that really matters, that is what wealth will do to them.  If David can fall because of it, so can you and so can I and so can they.  Any time you feel secure in your wealth, in your preparations for the future or for “unforeseen circumstances,” be careful.  God may very well send you a reminder that you cannot count on anyone but Him, just as He did to David.  It may be the most painful reminder you ever get.
 
​​Do not toil to acquire wealth; be discerning enough to desist. When your eyes light on it, it is gone, for suddenly it sprouts wings, flying like an eagle toward heaven, Prov 23:4,5.
 
Dene Ward

Michael Rockefeller was the third son of Nelson Rockefeller, governor of New York and Vice-President of the United States.  Michael was born, along with his twin sister Mary, on May 18, 1938.  He graduated cum laude from Harvard with a degree in History and Economics.  In 1960 he went on an expedition with a group from Harvard and while there discovered the Asmat tribe of Netherlands New Guinea.  The next year he returned on his own to study the culture and art of the Asmats.
 
             On November 17, 1961, he left camp with Dutch anthropologist Rene Wassing.  Their double pontoon boat was swamped and overturned, leaving them adrift about three miles from shore.  Two local guides swam for help, but two days later it had still not come.  That day, November 19, Wassing reports that Rockefeller said he thought he could "make it," by then an estimated 12 miles from shore.  What happened next can never be proved.  Wassing was rescued one day later, but despite an extensive and exhaustive search, neither Rockefeller nor his body were ever found.

              Theories abound, and testimony varies.  Some believe he must surely have died of exposure and exhaustion during his long swim and drowned.  Others believe a crocodile, or other creature, might have gotten him.  But the theory that keeps rising to the top is that he was captured and killed by the Otsjanep tribe in retaliation for the murder of several tribesmen by Dutch colonial officials.  And finally, you will find the surmise that because cannibalism among the Asmats was a part of exacting vengeance and Rockefeller's body was never found, that he was also eaten after being killed.

              To us, cannibalism is the height of barbaric cruelty.  Civilized people who consider themselves to be basically "good" would never stoop to such a thing, would they?  Would we?  Perhaps not literally, but spiritual cannibalism thrives in every culture.

              I have seen married couples carp and bicker, criticize and complain, even in front of others, to the point that you check the legal column the next morning to see if a divorce decree was filed the night before.  Anyone with sense, we think, would see how such words and actions would eat away at the bonds of their union.  Indeed, marriage takes constant maintenance to insure that those bonds remain intact.  They certainly won’t survive such destructive behavior, but people continue to behave that way, impervious to the embarrassment they cause anyone with earshot, and heedless to the effect on their relationship. 

              We sometimes treat the body of Christ the same way.  One person has a disagreement with another, about most anything, and that one is his target from then on.  All he can see is the bad, never the good.  All he can hear are the things that rankle, never the things that help and encourage, and so he is certain his behavior is justified.  His distorted vision keeps him from seeing the harm he is causing the body of the Lord by his arrogant, self-centered attitude, and the good that might have been accomplished in spreading the gospel in the community is put on the back burner for the sake of “winning,” even when the contest is petty and of no spiritual value.  It also keeps him from seeing exactly how foolish he looks as he destroys the things he claims to be trying to save.

              Being a cannibal is one of the worst things we can imagine, especially in our enlightened and civilized age.  Yet the Bible says that is exactly what we are when we reach this point.  Take a look at the relationships you have in your family and in the kingdom today.  Make sure you are not partaking of a meal that God would consider abominable.
 
For you, brethren, were called for freedom, only use not your freedom for an occasion to the flesh, but through love be servants one to another.  For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, in this:  you shall love your neighbor as yourself.  But if you bite and devour one another, make sure you be not consumed one of another, Gal 5:13-15
             
Dene Ward

Arturo Toscanini was born in Parma, Italy in 1867.  He studied to be a cellist, but at the age of 19 was asked to fill in for the conductor in Rio de Janeiro, and conducted the opera Aida entirely from memory.  Thus the die was cast.  Eventually he became the conductor for the renowned opera house La Scala in Milan.  His fame then spread across the Atlantic and on November 16, 1908, he was appointed conductor and musical director of the Metropolitan Opera in New York City.
 
             Toscanini was especially known for his interpretations of Verdi, Beethoven, and Wagner, a detail made famous in a Bugs Bunny cartoon.  Detailed phrasing and dynamic intensity were his hallmarks.  His memory was phenomenal, so much so that in his later years when his eyesight began to fail, he still managed to conduct from memory.  The musicians who worked under him were loyal and completely devoted to him and his interpretations, following his lead religiously. 

              If an orchestra does not follow its conductor, it will fail.  Every musician knows this.  Every person in any field knows this about his own particular leaders.  God expects no less from us.  Too bad we aren't as smart as Toscanini's orchestras sometimes.  And why?

              We have a problem with authority.  Americans are quick to ask, “Who says?” and just as quick to ignore the answer.  That is why you see all those brake lights on the road in front of you when the wolf pack passes a trooper on the side of the road.  If we all recognized the authority of the government, we would not be breaking laws when we thought no one was watching. 

              The religious among us talk about making Jesus “Lord” in their lives.  If our culture gets in the way in any area, it is this one.  We have no idea what living under a “lord” is like.  We vote our lawmakers in if we like them and out if we don’t.  We hold sit-ins, walk picket lines, and strike.  Actually having someone else tell us how to handle every area of our lives is not only something we have never experienced, it is something that would rankle and cause rebellion immediately, simply for the fact of it.  Why, we have "rights!"

              Jesus can be Lord in my life as long He will take me as I am, as long as He will be the kind, accepting, loving Lord who never expects any sacrifice on my part.  He can be my Lord as long as he helps me when I want him and how I want him and leaves me alone otherwise.  He can be my Lord as long as I get to choose how I serve Him.  Our culture is getting in the way.  This is one thing those first century Christians could handle better than we can—they lived under an irrational tyrant.  Yet when Peter and Paul told them to obey the government, they did, even when that government tortured and killed them.

              We show a complete lack of respect for authority when we disrespect God’s law.  I keep hearing, “This is how I want to do it, and God knows my heart so He will accept it.”  The people of Malachi's time tried this and hear what God had to say about that: 

              “A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the LORD's table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the LORD of hosts. And now entreat the favor of God, that he may be gracious to us. With such a gift from your hand, will he show favor to any of you? says the LORD of hosts. Oh that there were one among you who would shut the doors, that you might not kindle fire on my altar in vain! I have no pleasure in you, says the LORD of hosts, and I will not accept an offering from your hand. (Mal 1:6-10).

              Jesus said authority is important.  He said there are only two places to get it: “from Heaven or from men,” Matt 21:25, the point being that authority from God is what matters.  In turn, God gives governments authority (Rom 13:1), husbands authority (Eph 5:23), parents authority (Eph 6:1), and elders authority (Heb 13:17).  Therefore whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment, Rom 13:2.  When the Israelites rejected God’s choice of judge as their ruler and demanded a king instead, God told Samuel, they have not rejected you, they have rejected me from being king over them, 1 Sam 8:7.

              Rebellion against the leader of an orchestra will lead to chaos, not beautiful music.  But rebellion against God’s authority, or any God-ordained authority, is rebellion against God, and will lead to destruction.
 
And seated [Christ] at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age, but in the one that is to come.  And he put all things under his feet, and gave him as head over all things to the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all, Eph 1:20-23
             
Dene Ward
 

I was utterly confused when the older lady asked me about the bread recipe I had mentioned.
 
             “Is it short?” she wanted to know.

              The reply on the tip of my tongue was that it was about an inch high, but intuition told me that was not what she meant.  Someone else came to my rescue then and I gradually realized over the first few years of married life that “short” in cooking had nothing to do with height. 

              Shortening does exactly what its name implies.  It shortens the strands of gluten in a bread dough.  In a quick bread, which doesn’t take hours to rest and rise, that is important.  If it were not “shortened” it would be too tough to chew.  So biscuits, cornbread and other un-yeasted breads are far shorter than yeasted ones.

              Which shortening you choose makes a world of difference too.  Butter, oils, meat fats, and plain old shortening are the most commonly used, and the texture and flavor you want determines which one.  If you want a sandier texture, use oil; if you want a flakier texture, use shortening.  If the flavor makes a difference, choose olive oil for Mediterranean breads and bacon fat for cornbread—if you are from the south, that is. 

              Some recipes call for a mix of two or more shortenings to produce the best of each.  You want a great cookie?  Click on my recipes on the left sidebar and then click on Almond Crunch Cookies, which use both oil and butter—great flavor plus sandy texture. 

             I prefer to keep my pie crusts plain so they won’t detract from the filling.  To that end I use shortening only.  It also makes a flakier crust.  Others mix butter and shortening, but I can tell you from experience that an all butter pie crust is difficult to work with and tends to be heavy.
 
             Then there is cornbread.  I can tell from a recipe whether the cook is from up north or down south.  Northerners use less cornmeal, a good bit of sugar, and either oil or melted butter as their shortening—except maybe some Midwesterners who live where pork is king.  I nearly flipped when a television chef based in New York used 1 cup of cornmeal to three cups of flour.  To a southerner, it’s called cornbread because it has both the taste and texture of dried corn, plus that wonderful yumminess of bacon in the background.

              I have been trying to figure out what we Christians use as our shortening, and I think it has to be love.  Love can change both the texture and flavor of what you do.  Notice Mark 10:21:  And Jesus looking upon him loved him, and said unto him, One thing you lack…  Love made Jesus tell this young man, the one who had done well at keeping the law all his life, exactly what he lacked.  Try doing that without love and see how far it gets you.

              Sometimes love is tasty and easy to get down.  Sticking your finger in cake batter is a whole lot nicer than doing the same with pie crust.  One is far sweeter and has much more flavor than the other.  So pats on the back, compliments and pep rally encouragement are easy to stomach.  It doesn’t take any maturity to handle it well.

           Sometimes love gets a little salty.  Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.  Col 4:6.  Salt can sting an open wound, and sometimes that is exactly what we need—a sharp word to wake us up.  That one is harder to handle, but what are we?  Toddlers who still think that discipline means Mama and Daddy are mean, or adults who have learned the benefits of correction?
 
             Keith grew up in a family where compliments were rare, almost non-existent.  Until the day they died I never once heard his parents praise one of his sermons or Bible lessons.  They viewed criticism as a way of helping, and if they didn’t love him why would they try to help at all?  Most of the people up in those hills were exactly the same way.  They appreciated plain speech, people saying what they mean and meaning what they say.  They viewed pro forma compliments as hypocritical, and indeed, any teacher knows when the man shaking his hand and saying, “Good lesson,” means it and when he doesn’t.

              And we should recognize the value of love in all its forms.  When you know that a rebuke comes from a heart of love it is much easier to take, even a salty one—love shortens those tough strands of “gluten” and makes them tenderer and easier to chew on.  Don’t ever dismiss a word of exhortation because it doesn’t taste good to you.  God expects you to recognize the shortening and use the admonition to improve yourself whether you like its flavor or not. 

             A friend of mine once tried to sift some biscuit mix to “get out all those lumps,” not realizing they were lumps of shortening.  What she produced were the toughest biscuits anyone ever tried to eat.  If you try to get rid of the rebuke, even if it is shortened with love, God won’t be happy with your end product either.  In fact, the comment you get from Him when you try to excuse yourself from not listening is likely to be something like, “That’s tough!”
 
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it... ​Better is open rebuke than hidden love. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy… Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent…Psa 141:5; Prov 27:5,6; Rev 3:19. 
 
Dene Ward
 

Americans used to admire “the strong, silent type”—not someone who was uncommunicative, but someone who endured the hardships of life without complaint, a man who always kept a sane head on his shoulders when things got rough.  I don’t know what has happened, but nowadays strength seems to be measured by how loudly a man can rant and rave about his lot in life and anyone he can blame for it.
 
           Our culture has made whining a world class skill.  No, we do not call it whining, but that’s what it is.  We whine about our jobs, about our neighbors, about our families, about our health, about the government—they give all our hard-earned money to other people, but let them cut one of our entitlement programs and we whine even louder about that.  We whine about rising costs, about having to wait in line, about our lifestyles, about the driver in the car in front of us.  We whine about the church, about the singing, about the length of sermons, about the preacher, about the elders, and about how hot or cold the building always is.  Sometimes I feel like getting out Nathan’s violin and accompanying the dirge.  At least it would be easier on the ears—and I don’t even know how to play!

            Look at Numbers 11, the classic example of complaining in the Old Testament.  Every place it says weep, weeping, or wept, substitute whine, whining, or whined.  That is probably a perfect word for what was going on.  Look at Moses’ reaction in v 15.  Please allow me to paraphrase: “If this is the way it’s going to be, then do me a favor, Lord, and kill me.  I can’t take it any more.”  Why anyone would think that whining is a measure of strength is beyond me. 

            Whining impugns God’s goodness.  Think of all the things God does for us and gives to us, and still we whine.  Blessed is the man whom you choose and cause to approach unto you, that he may dwell in your courts.   How can we complain when we have that blessing?  We shall be satisfied with the goodness of your house, your holy Temple, Psa 65:4.  Because your lovingkindness is better than life, I will praise you.  So I will bless you while I live; I will lift up my hands in your name.  My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness, and my mouth shall praise you with joyful lips, Psa 63:3-5.  A far cry from whining, isn’t it?
            I may think that I am above the effects of my culture, that I am not influenced by the rampant materialism that often motivates this whining.  All I need to do is make a list of things I consider “necessities” to find out otherwise.  All I need to do is keep track of all the times I complain during the day to become thoroughly ashamed.  God destroyed those who whined against Moses.  Why will he accept my murmuring?  The poorest among us is wealthier than 90% of the rest of the world.  Imagine that.  And far beyond that, life is good, if for no other reason than I have a Savior.  In fact, do I need any other reason?
 
But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, blessed are you; and fear not their fear, neither be troubled, but sanctify in your hearts Christ as Lord…1 Peter 3:14,15
Neither murmur as some of them murmured and perished by the Destroyer, 1 Cor 10:10
 
Dene Ward

I bet you have some of those recipes yourself—Hawaiian pizza, nacho cheese stuffed shells, Mexican lasagna, spinach and feta calzones.  It may not be an upscale restaurant’s version of fusion cooking, but for most of us it’s as close as it gets.  Italian cuisine mixed with Mexican, Greek mixed with Asian, French with Thai, anything to put a little variety in the weeknight meals.  And for many of us, they become some of the family’s favorite dishes.  When the flavors don’t clash but meld together beautifully, the whole dish is improved.
 
             Isn’t that the way the church is supposed to work?  God never meant us to gather in monochromatic assemblies.  He never meant for one ethnic or economic group to position itself higher in the pecking order as the more learned, the more spiritual, the more zealous.  The prophets prophesied a multi-cultural kingdom.  It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the LORD shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways... Isa 2:2-3. 

              Even as far back as Abraham God promised, “In thy seed shall all nations of the earth be blessed,” Gen 22:17.  Not one nation, not two, but all.  When you read the book of Genesis and watch God funnel his choice down to one people, then in the New Testament see that funnel turned upside down to include salvation for all in the fulfillment of that promise, you cannot possibly exclude anyone and still show a true appreciation for God’s plan. 

              And you cannot make yourself better than any other without annulling grace.  For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love, Gal 5:6.

              “God is no respecter of persons,” Peter said to Cornelius, and even he had to learn that lesson and teach it to others.  And the struggle went on for years.  Have we not in two millennia finally figured this out?  Even Jesus began the process when he chose Simon the Zealot and Matthew the publican.  If ever two people, even of the same race, could be polar opposites in ideology, it was these two, but they overcame their biases and went on to work peaceably and respectfully together to conquer the world for their Lord—the whole world, not just one race.

              Who are you teaching?  Who are you welcoming into your assemblies?  Who puts their feet under your table and holds your hands during the prayer of thanksgiving for the meal?

              A long time ago, my little boys wanted some friends to stay overnight and go to school with them in the morning.  “We’ll tell the teachers they are our cousins.” 

             We adults looked at one another and smiled.  These playmates were black and my boys were about as fair-skinned as they come.  Their father shook his head and said, “I don’t think that will work.”

              In all innocence and sincerity they asked, “Why not?”

             Finally Keith looked at the father and said, “We’re brothers, aren’t we?  So I guess that makes them cousins after all.”

            Would that we could all be as color-blind as an innocent child, as color blind as the Lord who died for all.


For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise, Gal 3:27-29.
 
Dene Ward