I see one Bible study mistake made over and over and even by seasoned professionals—mixing up their metaphors.
            By this I do not mean what is usually meant in grammar class, using two different and unrelated metaphors in the same phrase of an analogy.  Like this one:  "That's awfully thin gruel for the right wing to hang their hats on."  (MSNBC, September 3, 2009).  Rather, what we refer to here is assuming that every Biblical metaphor means the same thing in every context.  Prime example:
            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. (Heb 5:12-14)
            So put away all malice and all deceit and hypocrisy and envy and all slander. Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk, that by it you may grow up into salvation-- (1Pet 2:1-2)
            I don't know how many times I have heard these two passages equated just because babies and milk are mentioned in both.  Here is the problem:  they speak of two entirely different issues and if you don't separate them, you miss half the teaching. 
        In the Hebrews passage, the writer rebukes those who have not progressed in their knowledge of the word.  They are still babies who need milk.  They ought to have matured into adults who can handle a T-bone steak, but they cannot.  They have not "trained their powers of discernment."  In this case, the milk is the first principles, the ABCs of being a Christian, the easy stuff, and being a baby is something you definitely do not want to be.
           Peter, on the other hand, says we should desire the spiritual milk in the same way an infant desires its mother's milk.  The "baby" in this passage is a good example, not a bad one.  We have all seen a hungry infant open its mouth and grunt for that milk over and over until it is fed.  All of us are supposed to be like that little baby, hungering for the spiritual milk, no matter how long we have been Christians.  In this case, the metaphor is about hunger, not just for the Word but for all spirituality, and the baby is something you want to be. 
           These two passages may use some of the same words, but they are not about the same thing.  All it takes is a little slow reading of the entire context, and then maybe a little thought—pretty obvious thought as a matter of fact.  Perhaps one could even call it "milk."
           Here's another one:
          According to the grace of God given to me, like a skilled master builder I laid a foundation, and someone else is building upon it. Let each one take care how he builds upon it. For no one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw— each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. (1Cor 3:10-13)
          Now in a great house there are not only vessels of gold and silver but also of wood and clay, some for honorable use, some for dishonorable. Therefore, if anyone cleanses himself from what is dishonorable, he will be a vessel for honorable use, set apart as holy, useful to the master of the house, ready for every good work. (2Tim 2:20-21)
          This one is a little trickier.  Both passages mention gold, silver and wood, along with a few other materials.  However, in the Corinthian passage, Paul uses the various building materials to say that all of us are different.  We each use whatever our abilities are to build on the spiritual foundation.  Some of us have greater abilities than others, but God will be the judge of how we use those abilities.  Being a "wood" disciple is not necessarily bad as long as we are doing what we can with that wood.  The analogy here is our various abilities, a subject he will eventually come back to in chapter 12, using the body as his analogy.
          However, in the Timothy passage, we are talking about pots, and what the pot is made of determines whether it is honorable or dishonorable.  He goes on to say that we will be honorable vessels, i.e., gold or silver, if we cleanse ourselves, making ourselves suitable for God's use.  We will be dishonorable, wood or clay, if we don't.  Do you see the difference in how this metaphor is used?  In the first, wood is not necessarily wrong, but in the second it is definitely wrong.
          These are not the only two by a long shot.  In one place Christ is the foundation; in another the apostles are.  Stop tying yourselves in knots and just realize that you are using figurative, not literal, language—metaphors, in this case.  The way some people go on, you would think Jesus and the apostles were real stones!  Separate your metaphors rather than mixing them and you will come much closer to the truths they are trying to teach you, without missing any of them.
 
Dene Ward

A certain young lady I know can name all the kings of Israel and Judah in order.  Her classmates in Bible class, whom I suppose were embarrassed that they could not do the same thing, told her, "All you know is a bunch of useless information."  Let me tell you something:  nothing in the Bible is useless information.  If you cannot use it now, someday when you learn a little more and dig a little deeper, I guarantee it will come in handy.
            Do you want an example?  A scholar named L. R. Helyer has pointed out that the Eastern cultures have an eastern orientation.  In other words, they face east to determine direction, while we Occidentals tend to face north to do the same thing.  Do you remember when Abraham and Lot separated because their flocks were too large to dwell side by side (Gen 13)?  Abraham stood in the Promised Land and said, "Do you want the left or the right?"  Abraham would have been facing east when he did that, and he would have meant, "Do you want the north or the south?"  And by that he meant the northern or the southern half of the Promised Land.  Abraham, to whom the promise was given, was generous enough to share that land with his nephew.  So what was Lot's choice?
            "But Lot journeyed east" [completely out of the land].  These four words ring increasingly ominous as the story continues.  But notice, even here, the distinction that is made between Abram who settled in the land of Canaan and Lot who settled among the cities of the valley.  "It is clear from [Gen 13:12] that the territory chosen by Lot lies outside the borders of Canaan" (Growth of the Seed, Nathan Ward). 
            If the story of Genesis is the choosing of the line of the Messiah—which I believe it is—here is one reason Lot was rejected from that line.  He wanted a land that looked well-watered and fruitful, even if it contained the most wicked heathen of the time, rather than trusting the promises of God and staying in the Land.
            BUT—would you have ever known that if you had not known about the eastern orientation of the Oriental peoples?  Would you have ever realized the significance of the choice he was offered versus the choice he made if you hadn't noticed that it was "the left or the right?"
            Now think a little more.  Is that orientation the reason the tabernacle and, ultimately, the Temple, faced east?  I don't know, but maybe it's something worth considering.  In fact, maybe any mention of direction might be worth studying yet again to find its significance, if any.
            If God had it recorded for us, it isn't useless.  In some fashion it will add to our knowledge and appreciation of him.  If I can't figure it out yet, it's up to me to work at it, not look down on someone who has gone to the trouble of learning as much as possible, even if it does not appear pertinent at the moment.
            Details matter.  Don't discard them like so much rubbish.
 
For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. (Matt 5:18)
 
Dene Ward

Just as we should know some basics about Hebrew in order to avoid making foolish errors in our reasoning, we should know at least a little about Greek, the language of the New Testament.  So let's learn a little something about it.
            First, at the time of the New Testament, Greek was written in uppercase letters only.  That's important because too many times I have heard people in Bible classes say something like, "Well, it has to be talking about the Holy Spirit because it's capitalized."  ALL the letters are capitalized.  In fact, in our culture we would be thinking that God is yelling at us, which of course He isn't, though I am sure He would like to fairly often.  When the translators see the word "SPIRIT" they must make the decision whether it means the Deity or an attitude, like school spirit or a spirit of unity.  These men are often so reverent that when they are not certain which it means, they will capitalize it to make sure they do not insult the Holy Spirit.  That was the mindset of the very early translations and translators, a wonderful mindset to be sure, but one that can and has often caused misinterpretations.  Be careful with those capital letters and don't make any arguments based upon them.
            Second, no spaces existed between words and there was no punctuation.  In the classic example, imagine you saw this sentence:  ISAWABUNDANCEONTHETABLE.  Now, is that "I saw a bun dance on the table," or "I saw abundance on the table?"  The translators go primarily by context as well as common sense.  I have never seen a bun dance on the table, neither the waltz nor the polka, but I have seen many feasts where indeed there was abundance on the table.  That's why the translators are acknowledged scholars.  They are used to handling that ancient language and all its peculiarities.
            The point about punctuation is also important.  Everyone knows that Paul had a penchant for long sentences, as in Eph 1:3-14.  That is one sentence.  The newer versions cater to our culture's desire for what I call "business writing"—short sentences that are simple to read and understand.  That's fine in business writing.  It is NOT fine when we are discussing important and profound subjects.  You should always keep an older version handy when you are studying from a new one (NIV, ESV, etc.) so you know exactly what was written and see the connections.  If your version includes a phrase or words four sentences later that were actually in the original one sentence, you may miss those connections.  Yet these are the markers for the beginning and end of a thought. Yes, it is more difficult to read and comprehend a long sentence, but this is your soul we are talking about.  You are supposed to be so deeply interested in these things that you will pore over them for hours, not give them a quick scan and move on.  The New Testament is not a collection of sound bites!
            Now about those italics.  Words written in Italics are supposed to be words "not actually in the Greek."  Many times those words are implied or even necessary to the Greek word they support, another thing those scholars know that we don't.  (If you took Latin in high school like I did, this probably makes perfect sense to you.)  When we say, "That italicized word is not there," a majority of the time (one scholar told me 99%), we are wrong.  It has to be there because of the word choice by the author. Please be careful when you start spouting off about a language you neither understand nor speak
            Having said all this about Hebrew and Greek, remember that very few points can be made from those languages that cannot be made from any language, including English. Our loving God would never have left us with something we could not understand and follow when He planned to judge us by it.
           
Dene Ward

(I received some help from a couple of friendly scholars on this and the next Study Time post.  Any errors are not theirs, but my own misunderstandings and ignorance.)
            No one expects you to be a Bible scholar, but let me ask you this.  What is your favorite pastime?  Sewing?  Cooking?  Baseball?  Golf?  And what do you do with those things?  Maybe you subscribe to a certain magazine.  Maybe you watch certain TV shows or sporting events.  Maybe you read books on the subject.  Whatever it is you enjoy, you spend time learning more about it, don't you?  Maybe not as much as a professional, but certainly more than the average Joe—or Josephine.  Not only do you enjoy being able to talk about it, you do not want to look foolish when you can't even define the basic terminology or know the rules of the game.
            So in that spirit, as Christians, disciples of the Lord, children of the Father, we should want to know the basics about certain subjects.  We certainly ought to know the Handbook inside and out.  I would hope I don't need to even mention that, but what about the original languages it was written in?  If we don't know the ABCs, so to speak, we may make some embarrassing errors or worse, lead someone astray with faulty arguments.
            I don't know Hebrew.  I don't read Hebrew.  It all looks like chicken scratch to me.  But over the years I have learned a few things about it.
            First, you read it right to left, not left to right as we do.  That means when you have a book written in Hebrew you will read it back to front.  I suppose to Hebrew readers it is front to back and we are the ones doing it back to front, but you get my point.  The first time I picked up a Hebrew book and found the title page in the back (front to them) it really threw me for a loop.  You ought to find one just so you have that experience.
            Second, there were no written vowels in Hebrew for centuries.  Some liberal scholars have tried to make hay with this.  Just imagine English without vowels.  The word "RD" would give you fits.  It could be read, red, rad, raid, road, rod, rid, ride, rude, and maybe a few others.  Some people have done their best to make it seem that knowing exactly what the Hebrew says is impossible, but they are wrong.  All those centuries ago the common people did not have access to written scrolls.  They were read aloud to the people, people who could memorize at the drop of a hat—it was their culture to do so.  The tradition of how a word was read was passed down through the years. They would have instantly known it when someone tried to put a different word in there. 
            Along came the Masoretes who developed a system of "pointing" around the consonants to indicate which vowel went where.  In addition to that, Origen, one of the so-called Church Fathers, included the transliteration of the Hebrew Bible into Greek when he compiled six Ancient versions of that Bible in the second century AD (the Hexapla).  In many places these match what later became the written vowels in the Masoretic text, further validation of the Old Testament we have today.
            Another interesting thing is word groups.  Most Hebrew words are based on a three letter root, which is easily seen even when transliterated into English letters.  For example, Shalom, Solomon, Jerusalem, and Shulamite are all SLM words, which tells you they are related somehow.  I have no idea how many roots there are, but I bet I can find quite a few now that I know that little trick.
            The last thing I want to mention is the use of repetition in the Hebrew language.  While there are a few intensifying words, they are rare.  The Hebrew language prefers to use word order and repetition to create emphasis.  The "(singular) of (plural)" repetitive construction will often be used, as in "Lord of Lords" and "King of Kings."  It doesn't actually say "Most Holy Place" in all those passages about the tabernacle and the Temple.  It says, "Holy of Holies."  If your Bible includes a "most," that is the translator's decision because that is how we would ordinarily say it in English.  The point is this:  repetition equals emphasis in the Old Testament.  "Abraham, Abraham" would have gotten that patriarch's attention much more readily than a single "Abraham," sort of like using all three of your child's names when you are angry with him.  Be careful when you try to make some point involving these phrases or the fact that words are repeated.  "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord," does not mean you are required to say "Holy" three times whenever you refer to God.  That was their way of saying, "The Lord is the Most Holy."
            I hope these little nuggets of information have interested you enough to learn a little more on your own.  You can never know too much about the Word of God.
            Next time we'll talk about Greek.
 
Dene Ward

Is there anything more satisfying for a grandparent than being allowed to babysit for several days while Mom and Dad are out of town?  Absolutely not.  It may wear me out, but it's a good kind of tired, the very best in fact.
            Four year old Judah has a stuffed tiger he has lugged around since he could carry anything.  It started out about the same size as he was at birth, but seems to have suffered a little stuffing-porosis.  He is limper and his body parts seem a bit more disjointed, as if someone had hugged on him for years, mashing him into whatever odd posture it took for him to lie cheek to cheek with a loving little towhead.  He is still cute—a long head at least half the size of his body with a cartoon-dufus face and a big black nose.  His stripes these days are a little more pale yellow and gray than orange and black, but there is no mistaking what he is:  a four year old's favorite "buddy."
          Sometime this past year, the tiger got a name—Lucky.  Lucky makes it out of the bed every morning and though he is often cast aside as his small master plays during the day, he always makes it back to bed.  And for some reason, he makes it to the table too. 
          When we were there this past babysitting stint, as we joined hands to pray over our meal, Lucky, for the first time, had his paw held too.  Judah very carefully held on to one paw and laid Lucky out across the large table so his Granddad could grasp the other paw and complete the circle.  "Ah," I thought.  "Something in that little four year old mind has changed.
            If you pooh-pooh your child's favorite buddy, you are missing something important.  I may not be a child psychologist, but I did have my own imaginary friends when I was growing up, so I know a thing or two about this.  Those imaginary friends are anything but imaginary to your little one.  They are best friends.  They protect.  They comfort.  They listen.  They even talk.  Why, Lucky even played a hand of "Go Fish" while we were there.  This is your child's first close relationship with someone not family.  He is learning what it means to be a friend, to be loyal, and to love as friends love.  So when something becomes important to your child, he wants to share it with that special friend. 
           Because Judah sees us praying, because he sees his mom and dad pray, because he sees a room full of friendly faces praying every week, he has learned that praying is important.  What concept does he have of God at this age?  Probably the usual, "God made me-God loves me" impression that most toddlers who have been to church since they were born have.  That doesn't matter.  What does matter is that he wants to share his understanding with his special friend.  It is a normal part of his life, his little brain is thinking, so naturally Lucky would want to do this too.  If he can play Go Fish, certainly he can pray.
           "It's a normal part of his life."  That is important.  Your child should see you interacting with God on a daily basis--in prayer, in study, in family discussions, in decisions you make.  That is how you instill faith in him.  If he grows up seeing these things, more than likely, he will do them too.  And since he believes his little friend can do exactly what he can do, letting Lucky pray will validate in his little mind--even though he has no idea what those words mean--both his relationship with his friend Lucky and his relationship with God.  If you disregard Lucky, whom he can see, how in the world can you expect him to believe in a God he doesn't yet know how to see?  Letting Lucky pray will make God become as real to him as Lucky already has, and eventually, the only real one of the two. 
           And it may all start if you just reach your hand out and grasp a well-loved paw over the dinner table.
 
But the steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children's children, (Ps 103:17)
 

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. 
            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 without 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 then 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 Keith Ward.
 
What shall we say then? Is the law sin? God forbid. Howbeit, I had not known sin, except through the law: for I had not known coveting, except the law had said, Thou shalt not covet: but sin, finding occasion, wrought in me through the commandment all manner of coveting: for apart from the law sin is dead. And I was alive apart from the law once: but when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died; (Rom 7:7-9)
 
Heady, deep stuff fitting for serious theological discussion, right? I know I have struggled at times to find a way to explain these verses with words that will let the hearer comprehend my understanding.
 
Then, at work, I saw a sign on the door that leads from our building to a covered patio with a few tables, “Don’t slam the door.”  I have never noticed that the door slammed.  In 15 years in that building, no one ever put up such a note before.  But.  When I saw the sign (the commandment came) I was immediately tempted to slam the door (sin revived).  I seldom go out the door.  The door is near the men’s bathroom.  Every time I pass the sign, I am tempted to open it just to slam it.  I would have not known sin except someone made a law!  The problem is not the law, “The law is holy and righteous and good.”  Slamming the door disturbs someone; evidently it is easy to let it slam, to shut it harder than intended.  It is good to be kind to others.  “Did then that which is good become death to me?”  Not yet.  So far, I have resisted the temptation to slam the door.  “But, I know that in me, that is, in my flesh, dwelleth no good thing”.  Ask Dene, I am ornery to the core.
 
But, I am not “sold under sin.”  Unlike the man of Rom 7:7-24, I have been “delivered from the body of this death” through Christ (see Rom 6:1-14 for an expansion of how). Though, I may often struggle with the temptation, I have sufficient grace to help me resist slamming the door.  It is my choice to "reckon myself to be alive unto God” (6:11).
 
(I must confess that I sometimes slam the bathroom door.)
 
"Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey the lusts thereof: neither present your members unto sin as instruments of unrighteousness; but present yourselves unto God, as alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God. For sin shall not have dominion over you: for ye are not under law, but under grace. " (Rom 6:12-14).
 
Keith Ward

Although I was not a particular fan of hers, I do remember when it happened.  Sometime around midnight, November 29, 1981, the actress Natalie Wood fell off a yacht and drowned.  She had had dinner with her husband Robert Wagner, and fellow-actor Christopher Walken earlier in the evening.  That meal involved drinking.  Back on the yacht the two men got into some sort of argument.  At a later time, Wagner admitted that he and Natalie had also gotten into an argument.  Around midnight, Wagner noticed she was missing and called for help.  She was found floating a mile from the boat off Santa Catalina Island, with a beached dinghy close by. A new investigation was opened in 2011, but nothing much came of it.  Her death is still a mystery.
            When you live in Florida, you hear of drownings quite often.  In fact, in places where there are none, you will see the sign above—No Lifeguard, Swim at Your Own Risk.  Usually, just beyond the sign, dozens of people splash around in the water, regularly going out to depths over their heads.  The risk to their lives bothers them not one wit.  The fun is worth it.
            Every summer my boys took the risk and I willingly allowed it.  We splashed in Blue Springs, Poe Springs, and Ginnie Springs.  We tubed down the Ichetucknee River from the spring head to just before the first bridge, pulling out and picnicking at the state park on tomato sandwiches and cold watermelon straight from the garden.  We even swam in the Santa Fe River and Oleno State Park while alligators sunned themselves on the opposite shore.  We weren’t the only ones who took the risks.  Everyone did, it seemed, because we were always standing in lines.
            For some reason, the risks involved in Christianity scare people much more.
            In life, it might mean sharing your life preserver with someone else, someone not as generous as you.  Turning the other cheek means you might very well be slapped again.  Going the second mile might mean being forced to go five or ten more.  Being willing to be defrauded to avoid casting aspersion on the body of Christ might mean losing money or worse, it seems, losing face.
            In our Bible study, it might mean swimming in the deep waters of profound thought, opening minds that are already made up, accepting nothing without personally verifying it, and challenging our thinking—perhaps even admitting we have been wrong about something and changing.  Scary indeed!
            In our conversion, it means having the faith to step out of the boat in the middle of a storm, and walk wherever the Lord leads us, with or without a beloved mate, a good friend, or various members of the family.
            Christians always put themselves at risk for their Lord’s sake.  It is not as if we were not warned.  He posts the sign Himself:  Swim at Your Own Risk.  But there is one difference—there is a Lifeguard when we take the plunge, one who has already given His life to save ours.  Why not enjoy the swim when we have that guarantee of safety?
 
And he said unto them, if any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whosoever would save his life shall lose it, but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it, Luke 9:23,24.

Dene Ward

I recently ran a reminiscence of being so different in high school that a teacher gave me a special poster to celebrate it.  Somehow my parents taught me to be different and not care that I was different.  One reader made the comment on this blog's Facebook page, "We cannot teach our children to be different if we don't learn the lesson first," and now that I think of it, that may have been the key for me.  My parents thought nothing of being different.  If you were a disciple of Christ, that's how you lived.  And so I fell into it quite naturally.  Unfortunately many of my brethren must not have been taught that.
            The recent political campaigns have nearly made me ill.  Seeing Christians spew out unverified rumors, innuendoes, sarcasm, threats, blatant disrespect, and just plain nastiness, all in the name of standing for the truth, appalled me.  I wondered what our first century brethren might have thought about the whole thing.
              Did you know that first century Christians in a world even meaner than ours (though by less and less everyday), often gave themselves away because they did exactly what no one expected them to do?   They were kind to those they disagreed with, including idolaters.  They assisted and served those in need, even those who would later turn them in for being Christians—an illegal activity.  Scorn, ridicule and disdain were not a part of their vocabulary or lifestyle.  They were different because they followed a Savior who was different, one who "when he was reviled, reviled not again; when he suffered, threatened not, but committed himself to him who judges righteously," 1 Pet 2:23.  THAT is what it means to be different.
            If you have been struggling to conform yourself to that image, maybe it's time for a little more effort.  You may have finally learned to speak kindly, even to the unkind and unfair among us, when it is face to face.  But how are you doing when it is not a "person" but a car you are railing at?  How do you do when it's a faceless voice on the phone?  How does your pen react when some impersonal corporation has treated you unfairly?  How does your keyboard click when you are posting a diatribe against whatever political side you deem evil at the moment?  In all those cases, someone—an actual person--is noticing how you behave, even when you think your identity is hidden.  Think about it for a minute—Facebook posts your name and picture at the top of every one of those angry posts.
            We recently did some painting in the house.  I went to the paint department of the local home improvement store, picked out a color card and handed it to the man to mix my paint.  When the paint went up on the wall, I was sure it was darker than the card I had chosen.  But when I laid that card up against the wall, it completely disappeared—it was exactly the same color.  It blended right in.  Sometimes we are nothing more than a color card at the paint store.
            I am supposed to be different from the average Joe, even the relatively good citizen out there.  I am supposed to act (not react) as a follower of my Lord.  I am supposed to be willing to suffer wrong or even loss to show that difference. 
          If being a Christian does become illegal someday in this country, I should be giving myself away by my kind words, by my willingness to yield rather than argue, and by my acts of compassion even to those who do not deserve it. I am not supposed to be blending in with all the other pagans, disappearing like a color card from the paint store into a wall of humanity who are a perfect match.
 
Beloved, I urge you as sojourners and exiles to abstain from the passions of the flesh, which wage war against your soul. Keep your conduct among the Gentiles honorable, so that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day of visitation. (1Pet 2:11-12)
 
Dene Ward

In the past few years people have done things for me that I could not even have imagined.  They have cleaned my house, they have put up my garden produce, they have brought meals, they have taken me to the doctor over and over and over, putting about 120 miles on their cars each time.  They have shopped for me and then conveniently forgotten how much I owe them.  They have walked up to me and in the midst of a hug slipped a hundred dollar bill in my pocket to help pay for surgeries, medicines and medically necessary trips that were not covered at any percentage by insurance because they were too “experimental.”  Many, many more have told me that they get down on their knees and pray for me every day, and many of those knees are frail and aching.
            What do you say to people like that?  What can you do for people like that?  “Thank you,” seems so lame. 
            And what can we do for God and Christ?  Most of us understand that nothing will repay the debt we owe Them.  That is what grace means—you receive mercy you don’t deserve and cannot repay.  Then why do we still act like our “service” is indeed plentiful payment for our salvation?  Why do we question our trials as if God is letting us down “after all we’ve done?”
            Just think for a moment about the absurdity of this:  God had the power to create the complexities of this vast universe; Christ is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation; for in Him were all things created, in the heavens and upon the earth, things visible and things invisible, whether thrones or dominions or principalities or powers; all things have been created through Him, and unto Him; and He is before all things, and in Him all things consist, Col 1:15-17; and so, dear Father and Jesus, because of all that, I will try real hard not to sin today.  That is my idea of service?
            God deserves all of me, not just a few little commandments I try to keep.  He deserves my service everyday, not just on Sundays.  He deserves my heart, not just my outward posture.  When I give myself to God there should be nothing leftover for me or anyone else.
            And He deserves this even when things in my life are not particularly good.  God is the Creator, He is the Almighty, He is the Ruler of the Universe.  That is why He deserves my service, not because He has been good to me.  We truly do not stand in awe of God if we think otherwise.    
            Today, think about the power of God and what it should mean in your service to Him.
 
Ascribe to the LORD, O heavenly beings, ascribe to the LORD glory and strength.  Ascribe to the LORD the glory due his name; worship the LORD in the splendor of holiness. The voice of the LORD is over the waters; the God of glory thunders… over many waters.  The voice of the LORD is powerful; the voice of the LORD is full of majesty. The voice of the LORD breaks the cedars; the LORD breaks the cedars of Lebanon.  The voice of the LORD flashes forth flames of fire. The voice of the LORD shakes the wilderness. The voice of the LORD makes the deer give birth  and strips the forests bare, and in his temple all cry,  "Glory!" The LORD sits enthroned over the flood; the LORD sits enthroned as king forever. Selected verses from Psalm 29.
 
Dene Ward