And when evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, Mark 15:42.
 
           Before a holiday, I am busily making preparations.  I cook as much ahead as I possibly can.  I start cleaning two or three days earlier, changing sheets if guests will stay overnight, and dusting things I only dust a few times a year.  I pay special attention to places I seldom really see, like the corners on the porch ceiling and the splashguard behind the sink.  If my guest is tall, I might even wipe the top of the refrigerator.  My mind is focused on the coming event.  Everything else has to fit in around that.
            I think it’s interesting that the Jews called Friday “the Day of Preparation.”  What were they preparing for?  Mark says, “the Sabbath.”  How did they prepare?  For one thing, if the example of the manna means anything at all, the women cooked up enough food for two days rather than one.  If something needed doing “soon,” they went ahead and did it rather than taking the chance that it would need to be done on the Sabbath.  Those Pharisees may have completely missed the point about the Sabbath, but at least they understood that it was an important day. 
            The law called for “a holy convocation” on the Sabbath, Lev 23:2,3.  It was the custom on the Sabbath to think about and listen to the reading of the Law or ask questions of its teachers, 2 Kings 4:23; Acts 13:27; 15:21.  The New Testament Jews met in their synagogues, read from the scrolls, and encouraged one another on the Sabbath, Acts 13:14,15.  Doesn’t all this sound familiar?
            There were some among them who were “clock-watchers,” impatiently waiting for the whole thing to be over so they could go back to their lives (Amos 8:5,6), people we would call “Sunday morning Christians.”  The hypocrites among them were condemned in Isa 1:13 and practically every other page of the prophets. 
            As Christians we now meet together on the first day of week, (Acts 20:7; 1 Cor 16:2, etc.)  It isn’t the only part of our worship and service to God any more than the Sabbath was for his people of old, but that does not mean it isn’t important.  As Christians we should be looking forward to that day all week long, and looking back at the most recent one to stay encouraged for the week ahead.  As such, it gives us both motive and momentum.
            I often wish God had instituted a Day of Preparation for us.  I see too many children in Bible classes who are so exhausted from Saturday’s activities that they cannot learn.  They haven’t had time to get their Bible lessons, so you cannot even reinforce what their parents should have taught them.  Or they come rushing in late and miss half the lesson.  I understand that life intervenes sometimes, but every week?  And could we not have looked ahead far enough to know we needed to get those Bible lessons on Friday, or even Thursday?  Could we not have made sure they were in bed early Friday night if we knew that Saturday would be difficult this week?  Not if we aren’t focused on the importance of our meeting together; not if the Lord’s Day means nothing more to us than something else to cram onto our to-do list.
            We often hear men telling us to “prepare our hearts and minds” for the Lord’s Supper.  It needs to go further than that.  We are coming before God in a solemn assembly, one different from the fellowship we have with him daily.  As his priests we may not see the Shekinah over the mercy seat, but he is with us nonetheless.  Our host, the Christ, is walking up and down the aisles greeting us as we come in.  The Spirit is hovering nearby to comfort and help.  How have you prepared yourself to meet with the three of them?
            We will actually see them one day.  If we cannot take the time to prepare for them in this life, like his apostate children of old, how will we ever be prepared to meet him in the next?
 
Therefore thus I will do to you, O Israel; because I will do this to you, prepare to meet your God, O Israel!" For behold, he who forms the mountains and creates the wind, and declares to man what is his thought, who makes the morning darkness, and treads on the heights of the earth-- the LORD, the God of hosts, is his name! Amos 4:12,13.
 
Dene Ward

When we first moved here, we were surrounded by twenty acres of woods on each side.  We sat at the table and watched deer grazing at the edge of the woods while we ate breakfast.  Our garden was pilfered by coons and possums that could ruin two dozen melons and decimate a forty foot row of corn overnight.  We shot rattlesnakes and moccasins, and shooed armadillos out of the yard.  At night we listened not only to whippoorwills singing and owls hooting, but also to bobcats screaming deep in the woods.

              Then one morning I walked out to the chicken pen to gather eggs.  I stepped inside warily because the rooster had a habit of declaring his territory with an assault on whoever came through the gate, and as I watched for him over my shoulder, I realized that my subconscious count of the hens was off by one or two.  So I scattered the feed and carefully counted them when they came running to eat—one, two, three, four…nine, ten, eleven.  One was missing.

              I scoured the pen.  No chickens hiding behind the coop or under a scrubby bush.  I checked the old tub we used to water them just to make sure one had not fallen in, as had happened before.  Nothing quite like finding a drowned chicken first thing in the morning, but no chicken in the tub.  Then I left the pen and searched around it.  On the far side lay a trail of feathers leading off to the woods, but Keith was away on business and there wasn’t much I could do.  The next morning I counted only ten chickens and found yet another trail.

              We were fairly sure what was going on.  So when he got back home that day, he parked the truck up by the house, pointed toward the chicken pen, and that night when the dogs started barking, he stepped outside in the dark, shotgun in hand, and flipped on the headlights.  Nothing.  Every night for a week, he was out with the first bark, and every night he saw nothing.  But he never stopped going out to look.  At least the noise and lights were saving the chickens we still had.

              Then one night, after over a week of losing sleep and expecting once again to find nothing, there it was--a bobcat standing outside the pen, seventy-five feet across the field.  Keith is a very good shot, even by distant headlight.

              I still think of that trail of feathers sometimes and shiver.  I couldn’t help hoping the hen was already dead when she was dragged off, that she wasn’t squawking in fear and pain in the mouth of a hungry predator.

              Sometimes it happens to the people of God.  We usually think in terms of sheep and wolves, and the scriptures talk in many places of those sheep being “snatched” and “scattered.”  It isn’t hard to imagine a trail of fleece and blood instead of feathers.            

              I think we need to imagine that scene more often and make it real in our minds, just as real as that trail of feathers was to me.  Losing a soul is not some trivial matter.  It is frightening; it is painful; it is bloody; it’s something worth losing a little sleep over.  If we thought of it that way, maybe we would work harder to save a brother who is on the edge, maybe we would be more careful ourselves and not walk so close to the fence, flirting with the wolf on the other side.

              Look around you today and do a count.  How many souls have been lost in the past year alone?  Has anyone bothered to set up a trap for the wolf?  Has anyone even acknowledged his existence?  Clipped chickens, even as dumb as they are, do not fly over a six foot fence, but a bobcat can climb it in a flash and snatch the unwary in his jaws.  Be on the lookout today.
 
I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. He who is a hired hand and not a shepherd, who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. He flees because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for the sheep. John 10:11-15
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Keith Ward.

Several times lately, I have been asked a variation of, “How much did the Old Testament people understand about Heaven and Hell?  Did they understand about eternal life?

My first response for a long time has been to refer them to the one Old Testament passage everyone knows, the 23rd Psalm, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord FOREVER.”

There are numerous other passages that give hints that they knew life and death were more than the physical.  Ezekiel says the soul that sins shall die. Well everyone, good and evil, dies physically so, obviously, something more is referred to as when he says the sinner who repents shall live.

But, more, I have been thinking about the purposes of the stories of Enoch and Elijah, lately.  Eight times in Genesis 5, God inspires Moses to record, “and he died.”  In stark contrast, “Enoch walked with God: and was not; for God took him.”  Where was Enoch?  He was not in the grave with his fathers or sons.  He was with God.  From the earliest pages of scripture, God made clear the hope of the faithful.

Elijah, Elisha and all the prophets knew that God would take Elijah that day (2 Kg2).  As they walked and talked, a fiery chariot parted them and Elijah was taken to heaven in a whirlwind.  Any who say he was just caught up in a tornado like Dorothy’s witch must contend with the 50 strong men who searched for 3 days without finding a body. They knew that Elijah was with God.
 
God made heaven clear in order that they would walk by faith while looking forward to being with him. They had the same hope and home as we, for "They looked for a city" (Heb 11:16).
 
Some glad morning when this life is o'er
I'll fly away
To a home on God's celestial shore
I'll fly away
When the shadows of this life have grown
I'll fly away
Like a bird from prison bars has flown
I'll fly away
Just a few more weary days and then
I'll fly away
To a land where joys shall never end
I'll fly away
 When I die,
Hallelujah by and by
I'll fly away
 
Keith Ward

During my childhood when we lived near the Gulf Coast about forty miles south of Tampa, we often went to Anna Maria Island to swim.  The beach there was the usual white sand, blue-green water beach, but unusual in that it was nearly empty of tourists.  Every hundred feet or so, low concrete walls divided the beach into sections, with huge rocks piled around them from the edge of low tide to the edge of high tide.  It was like having our own private beach.  A few other local families came as well, but if at all possible, we left one "beach" between us—it was an unspoken rule.  After a day of swimming, floating, playing tag with the waves, and building sand castles, Daddy pulled the grill and the charcoal out of the trunk of the car, and we ate hamburgers as the big orange sun set into the Gulf.

              The sea always seemed alive to me as a child.  For one thing it breathed, or it sounded like it in the night as wave after wave crashed onshore.  If you stood in the shallows where the waves came up to your ankles, as it receded again, you could feel the sand under you shifting, the water pulling it out from beneath your toes, the balls of your feet, even your heels, like a critter trying to escape.  And then there was the sand.  When I got home I could never figure out how it got in all those places, despite tight elastic.  Surely it must have crawled there.

              There was yet another thing I could never figure out as a child, not being too adept at physics and water mechanics, and that was how you could do absolutely nothing to propel yourself in the ocean water and still wind up far away from where you started.

              I do not recall ever having to worry about jellyfish, red tide, or sharks.  So my favorite thing to do was grab an air mattress and lie on it, well past the breakers, floating up and down, up and down on the swells, nearly falling asleep in the heat and gentle rocking.  But after one particularly scary moment, I learned not to lie there too long before checking my bearings.  My mother's beach towel had been right there, straight in front of my floating hammock, and now, suddenly, it was way back there, a good fifty feet up the beach.  The surf was smooth, the winds calm, and I had not used my arms and legs to push myself in any direction at all, yet there I was, far, far away from my safety zone.  It usually took a good amount of effort to get back where I started.

              And of course that leads us to the usual old warning about drifting.  Drifting happens when you don't realize it.  When your life is in an upheaval, when you undergo trials and temptations, usually you will be on the lookout.  But when things seem calm and routine, your spirituality can get away from you before you realize it.  A good warning still, but one that may have grown too banal and underwhelming.

              So, I wondered, trying to make this warning mean something again, why do we drift?  And that's when I found this:  Therefore I will scatter them like drifting straw to the desert wind. (Jer 13:24)  With just a little research I found out that was referring to the chaff the grain thresher is trying to rid himself of when he tosses the grain up into the breeze.  Really?  Yes; we drift like chaff on the breeze when we become useless to God.

              So then I looked at that Jeremiah passage again.  He may have been talking to Judah, the people of the southern kingdom who had finally become wicked enough for God to destroy, but can I become just as useless?  With some trepidation, I checked the context.

              They had become haughty (v15ff).  They were great, not because God had blessed them, but because of their own hard work, they were sure.  Or else it was because of these exciting new gods they worshipped instead. 

             They had not taken responsibility for the ones God placed in their care (v 20).  Their wealth was not something to share with the needy, but something to wallow in, fulfilling their own desires with no thought for anyone else.  They would even hurt the helpless in order to increase that wealth.

           They no longer recognized their own failings (v 22).  God's prophets were run off, imprisoned and killed for daring to tell them the truth.

             They had become accustomed to evil (v 23).  Used to it.  Inured to the filth all around them.  In another place Jeremiah says they had forgotten how to blush.

              They had removed God from their lives (v 25). 

              Sexual sin ran rampant among them (v 27). 

            If you cannot see our culture in this description, you are in danger of drifting too, because the first symptom may be to no longer recognize the difference between good and evil.  And when we become complacent, satisfied in our own spirituality regardless of the fact that we no longer cringe at foul language, blush at filthy jokes, nor live completely different lives from our neighbors, we might as well join them. 

            But, we are similarly in danger when we think that because we don't behave like them that God owes us for our faithfulness and holy living.   We are lying on exactly the same raft, drifting away from the shore, or, in the metaphor of Jeremiah, just as useless to God as the chaff drifting away in the wind.
 
             Drifting—maybe it's more dangerous than we ever thought before.
 
The wicked are not so, But they are like chaff which the wind drives away. Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, Nor sinners in the assembly of the righteous. For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, But the way of the wicked will perish. (Ps 1:4-6)
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

When Dad had his stroke he was out of it for about 24 hours. His memory ran in cycles of a few minutes, then he’d forget everything that had happened and would start over brand new.  I had left work when the word came and joined Mom at the hospital. We stayed with Dad until he finally got a room and I then drove Mom home so she could get a few hours of sleep and grab what she needed for an extended hospital stay with Dad.  When we got back the next morning, Dad was himself again (mostly).  Suddenly, I was overcome.  I sat on the window sill and turned my face away for a few moments. I hadn’t realized how much I had been affected by Dad’s illness until he showed definite signs of improvement.  I had been busy taking care of Mom, being strong for her, trying to help in whatever way I could and when that need was past, the emotions of almost losing my Dad came rushing in on me.  Knowing that, yes, he was going to be OK caused a huge emotional release, a more obvious one than the illness itself had.

We see this kind of thing fairly regularly.  Someone successfully completes a long, hard journey and once it is clear that the suffering is over then, and only then, do they break down in tears.  They never cried through all the years of toil or all the aching miles, but once the trip was completed, they broke down in tears of joy that it was over and everything would be ok.  Often when this happens, a close friend or relative will hold them and comfort them “yes, it’s over.”  I’ve thought of Rev. 21 in these terms lately.  It says, “and He shall wipe away every tear from their eyes”.  Could it be the tears of joy at having finally completed our course and made it to heaven that He will wipe away?  “That’s right, you’re here with Me. Everything will be ok.”  The verse does go on to mention that death, pain and crying will be no more, so the tears of this life’s pain are definitely in view, but I like the mental picture of God smiling as He hugs me, comforting me as I cry tears of relief and joy, “I’m finally home!”

Matt 25:21 “His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will set thee over many things; enter thou into the joy of thy lord.”
 
Lucas Ward

On September 25, 1789, Congressed proposed 12 amendments to the Constitution and sent them to the various state legislatures.  On December 15, 1791, ten of those amendments, numbers 3 through 12, were ratified.  (The two amendments not ratified dealt with the number of representatives and with the payment of both senators and representatives.)  Written by James Madison, those ten rights were strongly based on England's Magna Carta of 1215, which protected subjects from royal abuse of power.  The original Constitution faced strong opposition until those ten rights were ratified.  Many of us learned to recite them in history class.
                 As Americans we are proud of our type of government—democracy.  Our patriotism makes us salute the flag, sing the national anthem with gusto, and stand ever ready to recite our rights when we feel they are being violated.
              Christians should be careful about those “rights.”  Christians are servants of the Lord, of each other, and of everyone else too.  …in lowliness of mind each counting the other as better than himself, Phil 2:3.  As an American your instant reaction is, “All men are created equal—no one is better than I am.”  That is a difficult thing to overcome because it is a whole lot more satisfying in this world, in this life.
              The Corinthians had a problem with this too.  When disputes arose among them, they took each other to law.  Paul said, in effect, “Shame on you!” in I Cor 6:1-6.  Then he added, Why not rather take wrong?  Why not rather be defrauded? (v 7).  But that’s not fair!  I have my rights!
              No, you don’t.  Not if you are a Christian.  Christians ought to love the cause of Christ more than their own personal interests.  They should be more horrified at the idea of injuring His mission than in losing dollars or taking a personal insult.  Any time the way we act hurts the body of Christ or its mission we are wrong, whether it goes against our “rights” as Americans or not. 
              My opinion doesn’t matter if it hurts my brother.  My preferences do not matter if they keep the church from being able to better accomplish its goal to save the lost.  My “right” to function in the body of Christ doesn’t matter if someone else can better edify the group.  Any time I push my rights, I have lost the essence of Christianity—humility and service to one another and to Christ. 
              Any time things don’t go our way, it is almost automatic for us to think, “But I have my rights!”  That is ingrained in us from the time we hit grade school and memorize the Bill of Rights.  Christians do not have a Bill of Rights.  Be very glad of that.  The only thing we have a right to is Hell.  Instead, God became man and made it possible for us to have something we could never possibly have a right to—Heaven.  It’s time to stop thinking about “rights” and start praising Him for “grace” instead.
 
Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God.  For what credit is it if, when you sin and are beaten for it, you endure?  But if when you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God.  For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps.  When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued trusting himself to him who judges justly, 1 Pet 2:16,20,21,23.
 
Dene Ward
 
 

Now that I have tried to encourage the late beginners, it’s time to work on the rest of us—the ones who have been there, claiming to lay hold on the hope of life eternal from childhood.
              I once had a 6 year old piano student who progressed faster than any other that age.  Her mother had limited her children to one extracurricular activity and this one chose piano.  Because she was limited in how thinly she spread herself by a wise parent who knew that even children can suffer from stress, she regularly practiced more than I asked of her and could pick up on concepts that often had older students completely stumped.  She had “trained her powers of discernment by constant practice.”  Is it any wonder that I was ready to put her in a competition her first year, instead of waiting a year as I usually did?  Is it any wonder that she won first place at her level at a state competition the first time she went?
              When I was a child, people in the church were known for their Bible knowledge.  What has happened to us?  People who have been Christians for thirty or forty years cannot find their way through the Old Testament.  They cannot quote standard proof-texts.  When they try to recall those basic old stories, Jacob winds up married to Rebekah and Isaac to Rachel; Moses builds the ark and Daniel gets tossed into the fiery furnace.  You hear them introducing the preacher as either the Pastor or THE Minister of the church, as if there were only supposed to be one person serving in God’s family.  Hosea’s warning rings frighteningly in my ears--My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge, 4:6.
              When I was young, children actually came home from school every afternoon.  Families actually ate their evening meals together.  Television time and content was limited by parents who were home to supervise their children. 
              As we said last time, we apply the passage in Heb 5, what it takes to learn and grow, in every aspect of life BUT the one it was meant for.  We know what it takes to get a promotion at work, or to keep a job.  We know what it takes to pass a written driving test.  We know what we must do if we hope to learn anything new, whether a sport or art or subject we are interested in.  There is no excuse for not doing this with the subject we claim to be more important than any other in our lives.
              I find myself wondering what would happen if we made it a point to limit our children’s activities like the mother of my young student, so that there would be time for family Bible studies every night.  What if we turned that television off just one night a week, or turned it off one hour earlier every night so that we could study?  As a teacher, I can tell you what would happen.  We would KNOW God’s word, and with it in our hearts we could not help but BE better people.
             
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.
Blessed are you, O LORD; teach me your statutes!
With my lips I declare all the rules of your mouth.
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.  Psalm 119:10-16
 
Dene Ward

I taught piano from the time I was 16 years old, and earned a degree in music education (piano and vocal) with a stress on piano pedagogy.  It seemed the ideal way to help with our family income without leaving my children.  Indeed, my children were also my students, and any time I had to go out of town for a competition they went too.
              I had students ranging in ages from 4 to 80, and I usually found that the students on the extreme ends of that range were the ones who took most of my energy.  I once had a 70 year old from a town 30 miles distant.  He was a real joy because of his intense interest and zealous practice.  He studied his theory lessons so hard that he regularly came to his lesson with a list of questions that took nearly half his allotted time to answer. 
              Once, when we were studying chords, he despaired at ever being able to instantly play one from its symbol alone.  Memorizing the difference between an A7, Am7, Adim7, AMaj7, as well as the standard A, Am, A+, and Adim took him several minutes and a lot of concentration. 
              “You do it!” he once said in exasperation, pushing the theory book my way on the rack, and I calmly played them one after the other simply by reading the symbols.
              “How long till I can do that?” he grumbled.
              I reminded him that I have been at this since I was 7, and had four years of college theory under my belt, too.  It would be a shame if I couldn’t do it.
              That reminded me of Heb 5:12-14:   For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.
              We apply that principle to life without thinking, as he did to his music lessons, but we want to make excuses when it comes to spiritual matters.  My student, because of his diligent practice and meditation on the theoretical aspects of music and harmony, had come a long way in a short time.  Though he might have been impatient with himself, when I asked him to go back to a piece he had struggled with the year before and he found it simple to play, he could recognize his growth and improvement.  He “trained himself with constant practice” and was ready for some pretty solid food in the way of piano compositions and music theory.
              It is easy to look down on yourself when all you see is your failings and others’ abilities.  If you became a Christian later in life, not having grown up with the Bible narratives taught in every children’s Bible class, not having heard sermon after sermon for years, it will be a struggle for you to catch up.  If you have simply sat on a pew handed down as if it were an inheritance, and only wakened to your commitment to the Lord as an adult, you might be behind, too. 
              There is a wealth of information in the scriptures, and as you get older, learning seems to take far more effort.  For me numbers especially become more and more confusing.  I remember passages because I memorized them as a child.  Start calling out numbers to me now and they will leave my mind immediately, or, if somehow remembered, will come out transposed. 
              Don’t give up—just practice more.  If a 70 year old man can learn chord symbols, if he can play thirteen major scales, and thirteen minors in all three variations, if he can become one of the best music students I ever had, you can certainly do the same for God.  And if you ever despair, take a look back a year or so ago.  Don’t you see the improvement?  Don’t you see the fruit of your effort?  You know more, you understand more, you can even answer questions you could not have comprehended when you first started.
              That is, you can, if you have been working at it.
 
Practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress, 1 Tim 4:15.
 
Dene Ward

Beethoven is considered by most music historians a transition composer.  Born in 1770 at the height of the Classical Era, he began composing during a time when the rules were everything.  All forms of art were about balance and order.  The Classical Sonata had a definite form, as did the symphonies of the time.  Beethoven's earlier works followed those rules.  It was obvious to many that he was a budding genius—in spite of keeping rules.

In the early 19th century the rules began to lose their luster.  Artists, composers and other creative people began to bend them and as time went on, completely break them.  By the late 1800s, the Romantic Era was in full bloom.  For Beethoven it came a little earlier.  He died in 1827, but by 1801 he had written the Sonata in C# Minor—known to most as the Moonlight Sonata—as far removed from pure sonata-allegro form as one got in those days.  Some people didn't know whether to applaud or not. 

But breaking the rules of an artistic movement did not mean he no longer respected that previous era.  It didn't mean he didn't know the rules.  As one of my astute nieces pointed out to me—you have to know them to break them. 

Beethoven had his first lesson with Franz Josef Haydn on December 12, 1792.  Haydn had been making an excellent living writing music, usually on demand, in the Classical forms.  The number of compositions he wrote is staggering:  108 symphonies, 68 string quartets, 32 divertimenti, 126 trios for baryton, viola, and cello, 29 trios for piano, violin, and cello, 21 trios for 2 violins and viola, 47 piano sonatas, 20 operas, 14 masses, 6 oratorios, and 2 celli concerti.  How can anyone say this man was not a successful and talented musician just because he followed the rules?  His piano sonatas are, in fact, some of my favorite to play.  They are often just plain fun.

Beethoven, even though his heart eventually followed closer to Romantic ideals of art and music, still respected his teacher.  He asked his opinion on his works, especially his late trios.  Haydn's opinion mattered to him, even though, irascible as he was, he didn't take well to any criticism.  Even after a less than enthusiastic review for one set, Beethoven still dedicated his next set of piano sonatas to his old mentor.  He considered Haydn an equal to Mozart and Bach, and attended his funeral in 1809. 

Contrast that to artists, writers, and musicians today who look down on anyone who thinks that principles of proportion and contrast, grammar and punctuation, or harmony and melody will stunt their creativity. Mozart, who followed the rules of the Classical Era religiously, still wrote some of the most creative, beautiful, and intellectually stimulating music ever composed.  A Mozart Andante will take your breath away.  His Rondos will leave you chuckling.  If you think that principles stunt your artistic creativity, maybe you don't have as much of it as you think you do.

As in the arts, people try to get creative with their religious observances.  Rules don't matter; authority doesn't matter; patterns don't matter; all that matters to God is me pouring out my heart in whatever way suits me best. 

That statement has one immediate problem that ought to be obvious to anyone:  "whatever suits me."  I thought we were talking about worshipping God.  Sounds more like we are talking about God worshipping me. 

"There are no rules," someone else wants to say.  I can find in at least five places in the New Testament words similar to "as we teach in every church."  Evidently there were some things they were expected to do in the same manner everywhere, even as far back as the first century.

I can find the Greek word often translated "pattern" 15 times in the New Testament, referring to everything from the pattern of baptism to the pattern of living a godly life.  If one is binding so are the others.  Even the Pharisees recognized the need for religious authority (Matt 20) and Jesus used that recognition to prove yet more about his authority.  And finally, right before his ascension he reminded his disciples who has the authority to tell them where to go and what to teach and how to live.  Deny it at your own risk.

If you think rules stifle your service to God, you have a hard lesson coming someday.  Anyone can joyfully do what he wants to do.  Only a loyal servant can do what the Master wants him to do with the same passion, the passion He deserves.
 
And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of [by the authority of] the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him. (Col 3:17)
 
Dene Ward

This guest post is by Helene Smith from her blog MaidservantsofChrist.com

Today, I have 7 tips for Christian parents to help their kids develop thankfulness in their daily lives. 

1. Work: Kids who work learn to be grateful.  For one they understand the effort that goes into other people’s work.  Waitresses, janitors, police officers, cashiers and parents are easy to disregard if you have no experience with the work it takes to do their job.  So give your kids ample opportunities to empathize. Give them daily chores appropriate to their age; let them participate in a family business; let them have a part time job; take them to work with you, or to job-shadow in the community.  Don’t let idleness develop into a lack of gratitude for the work done around them. 

2. Service: There are a myriad of opportunities (especially for homeschool kids) to reach out and do community service.  Summer and the holidays are great times to volunteer.  Charity fun runs and youth mission trips are great summer activities. Volunteering to wrap presents for an angel tree or serve a holiday meal to the underprivileged provide a chance for kids to help others.  Year round permanent volunteering positions are especially helpful because your children can connect with the people they serve. We sing hymns at our local nursing home.  My 9 year old knows the elderly there by name; she prays for them when they are sick and gets and gives enormous amounts of love and attention.

3. Provide perspective (not guilt):  Let’s abandon the cliche, “Clean your plate!  Don’t you know there are starving children in Africa!” Instead let’s provide kids with perspective.  When we  lived abroad my (then) tween had lots of opportunities to see the body-wracking results of famine and malnutrition.  These weren’t distant people to whom she could potential feel superiority or even pity.  These were our dinner guests. My younger daughter doesn’t have this opportunity but our family gives a little money in keeping with our small budget to a school in Africa.  It really isn’t a lot but it ensures that a child or two there gets a free education, exposure to the gospel, and a warm meal a day.  It doesn’t hurt my 9 year old to see me write that check and talk about that this little bit of money is staving off hunger and malnutrition in a child just like her.  Again I am not suggesting you use other people’s misfortune as a club. Just provide your children with perspective about their blessings!  

4. Excess: Overheard recently at our local high school: 
Teenage Boy: Our maid is so irritating.  Every time she comes to clean she puts my deodorant under the sink.  Why can’t the stupid (insert entirely unsuitable word) remember to leave it alone?
Second boy: You have a maid?!
            As the first young man exemplifies gratitude is a tough lesson even or especially when we have an enormous amount to be thankful for! When we provide excess in our kids lives, it makes them not only less thankful but also less happy.  In order to help them be grateful, we may need to back away from some of their blessings.  Reducing the number of toys, the number of hours of TV, the number of activities, the number of lavish birthday parties, the number of times you eat out has unexpected benefits. Not only will it be better on your budget, health and the life of your family, but it will also help your child be happier, more thankful and better adjusted.  Not sure?  Consider the differences in Ebenezer Scrooge and the Cratchit family.

5. Budgeting: I have a wise friend who gave his tweens what felt like to them an excellent budget in their own account.  He gave them cards so they could withdraw money.  And then when they asked for something extra, he made them spend the money he gave them for that purpose.  Suddenly trips to Starbucks took a nose dive.  Again my suggestion here isn’t to force kids to worry over whether or not their parents will make the car payment or the power will be cut off. But it is worthwhile for a child to have a set amount of money and budget their wants and needs out of it.  

6. Expressing gratitude: One way to cultivate gratitude is to notice then express the good.  This starts with pointing out to your child what you have to be grateful for close to home.  “Hey, look!  Dad came out early and defrosted my windshield!  Wasn’t that thoughtful.  Let’s text him and say thanks!” Modeling gratitude includes regularly thanking them when they do well! We can incorporate thankfulness into their and our regular prayers.  Thank you notes, small homemade gifts, and the simply noticing what others do can be a great encouragement to them.  Be creative and encourage them to look for opportunities to be grateful!     

7. Develop a theology of gratitude: Consider having your children memorize one of the following scriptures on gratitude:  Colossians 3:15-17, 1 Chronicles 16:8-11, or 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.  Or print out a copy of Ephesians 1 and have them underline each blessings we have in Christ.   Sing songs at home that emphasize our thankfulness. Try this simple song if you need a place to start!

May God bless you and your children with His contentment, His joy and every spiritual blessing in Christ Jesus.  May you learn to be thankful in every circumstance and how to give the blessing of thankfulness to the little people God gave to you!

Helene Smith
maidservantsofchrist.com