Joseph Lodge opened his first foundry in South Pittsburg, Tennessee in 1896, naming it after a friend:  The Blacklock Foundry.  In May 1910 it burned to the ground, but he opened again a few blocks south with an initial filing date as a For Profit Corporation on August 19, 1910, naming it the Lodge Manufacturing Company.  It has been going strong for over 100 years, and my own skillet came from that company.

            I grew up watching my mother use her cast iron skillet.  She fried chicken, hamburgers, eggs, country fried steak, pork chops, and hash in it.  I suppose I began with grilled cheese sandwiches, something I still love but have to limit now.  Some days, though, a crisp on the outside, gooey on the inside, hot all over, buttered pair of bread slices (usually multi-grain in a nod to health) is the only thing that will satisfy.

              When I received my own cast iron skillet as a wedding present I was confused.  My mother’s was deep black, smooth and shiny.  This thing was the same shape, the same heft, but gray, dull, and rough.  “You have to season it,” she told me, and even though I followed the directions exactly, greasing and heating it over and over and over, it was probably ten years before my skillet finally began to look like hers.  Seasoning cannot be done quickly, no matter what they say, and in the early stages can be undone with a moment’s carelessness—like scrubbing it in a sink full of hot soapy water.  A good skillet is never scrubbed, never even wet, but simply wiped out, a thin patina of oil left on the surface.             

              Faith is a little like a cast iron skillet—it has to be seasoned.  Let me explain.

              In the middle of some study a few weeks ago I made a discovery that made me laugh out loud.  “…the churches were strengthened in the faith,” we are told in Acts 16:5.  I am not a Greek scholar, but sometimes just looking at a word gives you a clue.  The word translated “strengthened” is stereoo.  “Stereo?” I thought, automatically anglicizing it, and a moment later got the point.  Faith may begin as “mono”—undoubtedly the Philippian jailor who believed and was baptized “in the same hour of the night” had a one dimensional faith.  He hadn’t had time to develop beyond the point of “I believe that Jesus is the Son of God,” but I imagine after awhile he had seasoned his faith with layer after layer of growth.  It had become a “stereo” faith.

              Think about it.  The Abraham who left Ur at the word of God, giving up far more than we usually realize in worldly goods and prominence, was not the same Abraham who offered his son over forty years later.  That first Abraham was still so timid he would willingly deceive people about the woman traveling with him.  Yet God did not give up on him, and he did not give up on God.  He grew, adding layer after layer to a faith that eventually made him the father of the faithful.

              The Peter who tried to walk on water may have shortly thereafter confessed Christ, but he wasn’t the same Peter who sat in Herod’s prison in Acts 12, and he certainly wasn’t the same Peter who ultimately lost his life for his Lord.  He used all the earlier experiences to season a faith that endured to the end.

              It isn’t that God is not satisfied with the faith we have at any given moment, but He does expect us to grow, to season that faith with years of endurance and service.  Seasoning takes heat, and the heat of affliction may be the thing that seasons us.  We never know what may be required, but God expects us to keep adding those layers, to get beyond the “mono” faith to a “stereo” faith, a multi-faceted, deeply layered condition, not just a little saying we repeat when we want to prove we are Christians.

              How does your skillet look today?  Is it still gray and rough, or have you taken the time to season it with prayer and study, enduring the heat of toil and affliction, and turned it into an indispensable tool, one you use everyday to feed and strengthen your soul?
 
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another. My heart faints within me! Job 19:25-27
 
Dene Ward

Every dog we have ever had has loved a good belly rub, but Chloe seems to have taken it to another level.  It isn’t just that she begs for a belly rub, it’s that she thinks God put her here to have her belly scratched, and that scratching her belly may be the only reason He put us here.

              A few people seem to have the same opinion about themselves and the church.  The only reason God instituted a church is to pander to their every need.  It seldom seems to cross their minds that other people have needs as well, and that those needs may be even more critical than theirs.  Chloe wouldn’t care if the house were on fire if she saw us running outside.  She would still scamper up, plop herself on the ground and roll over—isn’t that why we came outside, to scratch her belly?  A Christian who thinks he is the center of the universe is behaving the same way.

              Others think the only reason God put them in the church was for the church to listen to them.  They never ask a question in a Bible class, or offer a comment to stimulate discussion and deep thinking.  Instead they have all the answers and are happy to tell you exactly how things ought to be done, even things that are not specifically spelled out in the scriptures.  They know best.  It amazes me when these are people new to a congregation, who don’t yet know the background and experiences of the people they are trying to advise, often including elders, or who are in their mid-twenties with little life experience behind them.  Kind of reminds me of Chloe who thinks a belly rub is appropriate any time of day, any place, even while you are trying to shoot a rattlesnake that she obviously has not seen.  But she knows best, Boss!

              Then there are the ones who think their feelings, or the feelings of a family member, are all that count.  The church is supposed to pussyfoot around and never offer exhortation or criticism that might “offend” by our definition of the word.  They think they are put here to be stroked and petted and “have their belly rubbed” regardless of what might be happening to their souls.  Reminds me of that passage about people “whose god is their belly”—nothing matters at the moment but how they feel.  I am not about to let Chloe roll over on her back in the middle of a garden row I have just planted that is supposed to help feed us this year, no matter how much it hurts her feelings for me to tell her, “No!”  Some things are more important than her feelings, and if she were my child instead of my dog, I would explain that to her rather than let her do as she pleased and cost us a few hundred dollars worth of groceries. 

              So what do you do about people like that?  You do the same thing the Lord did for you when you were still that immature and selfish.  You tolerate, you teach, you show them a better way with the example of your own service and willingness to accept abuse or take on responsibilities that are not yours but that you do because they need doing and you are there.  You love them in a way they don’t deserve and yes, you rebuke when necessary and hope they won’t act childishly and run off to play somewhere else, where everyone will scratch the belly they offer, and let them be the only ones who matter and the only ones worth listening to.

              The Lord did all that for us, and he expects us to do it for them.  Some day maybe they will learn to be better than a silly little dog who thinks the world is here to scratch her belly.  Didn’t you?
 
And we exhort you, brethren, admonish the disorderly, encourage the fainthearted, support the weak, be longsuffering toward all. 1Thes 5:14
 
Dene Ward
 

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.

Casey Stengel, Hall of Fame baseball manager for the Yankees and Mets, was known for his sayings. He once said, “There are three things you can do in a baseball game. You can win, or you can lose, or it can rain.” I first heard that quote as ‘Somedays you win, somedays you lose and somedays it rains.’ First time I heard it I thought it was silly. The more I thought about it, the more profound it seemed. And it got me thinking about the Christian life.

As a Christian, sometimes we win. In the Bible, can you think of a bigger win than Acts 2? Peter is preaching the first gospel sermon, and the response is incredible:

“Now when they heard this they were cut to the heart, and said to Peter and the rest of the apostles, "Brothers, what shall we do?" And Peter said to them, "Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself." And with many other words he bore witness and continued to exhort them, saying, "Save yourselves from this crooked generation." So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls.” (Acts 2:37-41)

Three thousand souls were saved that first day as they accepted the Gospel. 3,000! Hey preachers, have you ever had a day like that? In reading about the Restoration period, I read of evangelists holding 2-3 week gospel meetings in which 1,000 people were baptized during the course of the meeting. But that was over three weeks, and this is in just one day – and three times as much! An incredible win. Do you think Peter was feeling good that evening? And there are other big wins scattered throughout Acts. John and Peter’s sermon in Acts 3 led to thousands more being baptized in Acts 4:4. Paul had, for all practical purposes, a whole city turn out to listen to him in Acts 13:44. Somedays, we win.

But somedays, we lose. An example would be the last part of Acts 17. Paul is in the city of Athens waiting for his companions to catch up, having been rushed out of Berea ahead of a lynch mob. While waiting, he sees the rampant idolatry around him and he can’t help himself. He speaks out against this evil. The Athenian intelligentsia hear about him and decide to grant him an audience. What an opportunity! These are some of the leading thinkers of the day. What if Paul can convert a number of them? So he begins to speak in Acts 17:22 and gives what is widely considered one of the best gospel sermons ever. In the space of ten verses he brings these men from idol worshippers unaware of God to the Gospel of the resurrected Savior. An incredible sermon. And what is their response?

“Now when they heard of the resurrection of the dead, some mocked. But others said, "We will hear you again about this."” (Acts 17:32)

The vulgar laughed and the polite essentially gave him a “Don’t call us, we’ll call you”. Paul had a wonderful opportunity and preached perhaps the greatest sermon ever and **pffft!**

When thinking of losses, how can we not think of Noah? Peter calls him a “preacher of righteousness” (2 Pet. 2:5) and it seems that he had roughly 100 years to preach (Gen. 6:10,13; 7:6). In 100 years of preaching, he saved precisely no one outside his family. Again, preachers, have you ever had a dry spell to compare to that? Somedays, despite our best efforts, we lose.

And somedays, it rains. Nothing goes the way we had planned. We see this in Paul’s life at least twice. First, Acts 16:6-8

“And they went through the region of Phrygia and Galatia, having been forbidden of the Holy Spirit to speak the word in Asia; and when they were come over against Mysia, they assayed to go into Bithynia; and the Spirit of Jesus suffered them not; and passing by Mysia, they came down to Troas.”

Having been very successful in what we would today call southeastern Turkey, he planned to move to southwestern Turkey but, whoops, the Holy Spirit forbade them. Ok, let’s go to north-central Turkey. Whoops, Jesus would not allow it. All his plans done in by acts of God (isn’t that an insurance phrase for weather?) Paul wound up in Troas. Where he heard what we term the Macedonian Call. And churches were planted in Philippi, Thessalonica, Berea, and Corinth specifically because Paul’s plans were ruined. He couldn’t serve God in the way he had planned, but he continued to serve as best he could in the situation he found himself. And souls were saved.

Then there’s Acts 20:2-3

“And when he had gone through those parts, and had given them much exhortation, he came into Greece. And when he had spent three months there, and a plot was laid against him by Jews as he was about to set sail for Syria, he determined to return through Macedonia.”

Paul was in a hurry to return to Jerusalem and give the poor their the alms he had been collecting from the various Gentile churches. He planned to sail from Corinth to Syria and then, likely, from Syria to Caesarea and then overland to Jerusalem. That was the fastest means of travel at that time. But his plans were ruined by something out of his control: the machinations of his enemies. So, to avoid them, he took the long way around. And had a chance to revisit the Macedonian churches, preach in Troas, and see the Ephesian elders again for what he thought would be the last time. Some of the most often referred to passages in Acts wouldn’t have been written if Paul’s plans had worked out. Somedays, it rains, but we still serve as best we can.

In our service to the Lord, somedays we will win big. There will be much rejoicing and the results of our efforts for the Lord will be obvious. Somedays, however, we will lose. Despite our best efforts we won’t accomplish what we set out to do for Him. Even in our losses, though, we can find some progress. In Acts 17 it does mention two who believed and clung to Paul, despite the ridicule of the multitude. And Noah was not completely unsuccessful, he did save his wife, three sons, and their wives, in addition to himself. If we give our all for God, He will make some use of it, even if it seems a loss to us. And somedays, it will rain. Everything we thought we would do for the Lord will get turned on its head. We’ll find ourselves in circumstances far different than we expected, doing different work than we expected. Even in those odd situations if we do the work before us, we can have a great impact for the Lord.

The examples given were all of evangelism, but this is true of all service to God. As parents raising your children for Him, somedays you will win, somedays it will seem as if you lost despite your best efforts, and somedays nothing will go as you expected. Keep pressing on. As ministers to needy brethren we will win, lose, or have it rain, but keep doing what you can. In all of the examples win, lose, or rain, God used the efforts of His workers to accomplish His will. He will do so today as well.

Regardless of the weather, keep “pressing on”.

Heb. 6:11-12 “And we desire each one of you to show the same earnestness to have the full assurance of hope until the end, so that you may not be sluggish, but IMITATORS OF THOSE WHO THROUGH FAITH AND PATIENCE inherit the promises.”
 
Lucas Ward

I had heard bad news the night before, and after a night of crying and praying, had completely passed the grief stage and was well into rage.  I furiously weeded the flower beds, flinging dirt and weeds as hard as I could.  At least it served a purpose.  In Florida, you can’t just hoe the weeds and expect them to die.  Anything green will re-root by morning in this humid climate unless you completely remove it from the garden. 

              I was black to my elbows and sweating profusely when it crossed my mind to wonder if it might just be all right to curse if I were cursing Satan.  Chloe sat next to me, tilting her head back and forth in confusion.  Finally, when the convulsive sobbing started, she tucked her tail between her legs and slunk off in the direction of the porch, with a bewildered look over her shoulder at me.

              In a moment of clarity awhile later, I realized that I had reached a milestone in my spiritual life.  Automatically, without even having to think about it, I had directed my rage at the right person.  Instead of blaming God, I had blamed the one who twists every good thing into ugliness.  For once I had never even had a question about why this particular thing had happened.  I knew why it had happened—because the enemy of God is the enemy of every one of his faithful children too.

              So why doesn’t God keep anything bad from happening to those children?  Maybe the same reason a good parent doesn’t shield his child from the result of his own mistakes.  Maybe the same reason we make them eat their vegetables and get their shots.  Causing pain is not always bad, not if you want to build healthy bodies and strong characters.  But who am I to even ask or say anything definitive about the matter?  This is all I can say:

              His faithfulness is everlasting, Psa 119:90.
              He loves justice and will not forsake his saints, Psa 37:28.
              His love is steadfast, Psa 89:2.
              There is no unrighteousness in him, Psa 92:15.
            He made all things very good, Gen 1:31, and is the only one who is good, Luke 18:19. 
              He cannot be tempted with evil, and is never the cause of temptation, James 1:13.

              Does any of that sound like the one we should blame about anything?  Most of our problems come because of the freewill God created in us, yet even that freewill is a good thing for it means we can choose to love and serve God rather than being the pawns of a pagan notion of destiny.  It means He can know that our service is willing and not forced, and that our love for Him is just as genuine as His for us.

              That means we will have to put up with things we don’t like, with things that hurt and cause us pain because a long time ago one of us chose the wrong way, and suddenly there was evil in the world.  But isn’t it wonderful that the justice of God says that, while we may have to live with the effects of that choice, we aren’t saddled with its guilt—we can make our own choices.

              Remember when bad things befall you who to blame.  Go out to your flower beds and remind yourself what the scriptures call him each time you rip out a weed and fling it with all your might--the Accuser, the Adversary, the Enemy, the Evil One, the father of lies, the Prince of demons, the Ruler of this world, that old Serpent, the Tempter.  Why in the world would we ever think Someone Else was to blame?
 
This I recall to my mind; therefore have I hope. It is of Jehovah's lovingkindnesses that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness. Jehovah is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. Jehovah is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that a man should hope and quietly wait for the salvation of Jehovah. Lam 3:21-26
 
Dene Ward

You can find a million diets out there, but there is one thing none of them can get around:  your calorie intake must be less than your calorie usage if you want to lose weight.  That doesn’t mean it is easy or that other things do not play into it.  Just ask a middle-aged woman about the difficulties of losing weight, and you will get an earful.  I can vouch for those “other things” myself, having gone through middle age and now arrived at “old age.”  It’s true—several million women could not make this up and it not be valid.  Be that as it may, you still must count those calories and burn up more than you take in.

             The very first calorie counting diet book was written by Lulu Hunt Peters, copyrighted August 14, 1918.  Diet and Health: With Key to the Calories was a best seller.  Dr. Hunt knew what it meant to be overweight and to diet.  She lost 70 lbs. on her diet plan of maintaining 1200 calories a day.  Her book was witty and entertaining.  Just a for instance, the title itself was a parody of Mary Baker Eddy's Science and Health: With Key to the Scriptures.

              Keith and I do more calorie counting these days.  Our activity level has decreased due to illness and just being too old and tired to do as much.  That means we have to be much more diligent than before when Keith was riding his bike 50-75 miles a week and I was jogging 25-30 miles a week.  Something about being in your 60s slows you down a bit.

              The other morning I was making a light version of baklava—half the calories and a third the fat of the ordinary Greek pastry.  I had phyllo dough leftover that I needed to use up and a brand new jar of raw honey. Such was my excuse that day—but at least I had found this lighter version.  After I poured the honey syrup over the baked dough, Keith came along behind me with a spoon and started scraping the pan.  In between licks he said, “This doesn’t count, right?”  Oh, if only… 

              I heard a chef say one time that he had to work out about two hours a day to burn off the estimated 6000 calories he took in just tasting the dishes he made before sending them out to his customers.  I get it.  My local brethren have so many potlucks (at least two a month for some of us), plus company meals and family meals, wedding and baby showers, that I am sure most of my extra calories come from that tasting.  No way will I send something out there that I don’t know is good.  And if I took diet food to a potluck I just might be excommunicated.

              Yes, those calories count.  And so do those little bitty sins—you know, the little white lies to keep yourself out of trouble, the little bits of gossip that you just can’t seem to keep to yourself, the pens and paper clips you “borrow” from work, that side job you did for a little extra cash that doesn’t get reported the next April.  We seem to think that because we assemble on Sunday mornings and don’t do the big bad sins—the ones in the Ten Commandments—that nothing else counts.  The fact that our language makes people think less of the body of a Sacrificed Savior never seems to cross our minds. 

              The Treasury of Scriptural Knowledge states that the Jews believed that “he who observed any principal command was equal to him who kept the whole law.”  Their example was idolatry.  If you didn’t worship an idol, you were good to go!  The little stuff didn’t matter.  All you have to do is read about Jesus’ dealings with the Pharisees in the gospels and you can see the results of that doctrine.

              First century Christians must have had the same problem.  “He who keeps the whole law but fails in one point has become accountable for all of it,” James said in 2:10.  The context?  People who said they had faith but didn’t take care of the sick and needy, or visit the fatherless and widows, or welcome the strangers to their assemblies.  The same God who said, “Do not kill,” also said, “Do not commit adultery,” he reminds them.  All sins count in God’s eyes.

              This is not new with God.  Ezekiel said in chapter 33:12,13, “The righteousness of the righteous shall not deliver him in the day of his transgression…if he trust to his righteousness, and commit iniquity, none of his righteous deeds shall be remembered, but in his iniquity which he has committed, therein shall he die.”

              Yep, all those calories count, no matter how small the spoon or how tiny the taste.  And so do all those sins.  The only cure for the problem is to quit sampling the goods.
 
Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, he shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:19
 
Dene Ward

I was looking through some of the older hymns for another entry in this recurring series when my eyes fell upon "Peace, Perfect Peace."  This small, seemingly insignificant hymn, one that is often labeled "boring" especially by a younger generation, has lasted almost a century and a half despite that misconception.  I started doing some research and came across this article, which says it far better than I ever could.
 
               So here are the words of guest writer Matt W. Bassford, from his blog, hisexcellentword.blogspot.com.  (Used by permission.)  I recommend the entire blog wholeheartedly.
 
                                     Hymns and Scriptural Literacy

In the worship wars, one of the most common criticisms of traditional hymns (sometimes stated, often implied) is that they are boring.  Particularly, they bore young people, so if we want young people to continue to worship with us, we’d better sing songs that are exciting or at least interesting.

Admittedly, most traditional hymn tunes are not the kind of music that sets the pulse to racing.  In fact, many hymn-tune composers were aiming for solemnity and thoughtful repose rather than excitement.  However, even though I find this to be true, I personally still don’t think that well-written hymns from any era are boring.  Even if they leave me contemplative, they don’t make me want to go to sleep.

I wonder, then, if the source of boredom for some and fascination for others lies not in the music but in the lyrics.  In particular, I wonder if it lies in the rich Biblical allusions that are characteristic of the best traditional hymns.  Singers who are Scripturally literate will recognize the Biblical language and appreciate its use, while singers who aren’t Scripturally literate will miss the point and find nothing to dwell on.

I started thinking about this while singing “Peace, Perfect Peace” at a funeral last week.  For those who don’t know it, here are the first five verses:
 
Peace, perfect peace, in this dark world of sin?
The blood of Jesus whispers peace within.
 
Peace, perfect peace, by thronging duties pressed?
To do the will of Jesus, this is rest.
 
Peace, perfect peace, with sorrows surging round?
On Jesus’ bosom naught but calm is found.
 
Peace, perfect peace, with loved ones far away?
In Jesus’ keeping we are safe, and they.
 
Peace, perfect peace, our future all unknown?
Jesus we know, and He is on the throne.
 
“Peace, Perfect Peace” is a hymn I’ve known all my life.  I can’t remember learning it.  However, I certainly have not fully understood it for all or even most of my life.  The music isn’t particularly stirring (see “solemnity and thoughtful repose”, above), and even though I knew what the words meant, I didn’t get the hymn.

That changed once I started reading through the Bible regularly.  In the course of so doing, I encountered Isaiah 26:3, which reads, “You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” (ESV)
Ohhh.  All of a sudden, the hymn went from blah to brilliant.  Edward Bickersteth didn’t pluck the phrase “peace, perfect peace” from thin air.  He plucked it from Isaiah 26:3.  In fact, he is confronting the apparent impossibility of the promise that Isaiah 26:3 makes.  

How can it be that God guarantees that I will have complete and total peace despite all of these problems I’ve got?  Just look at all of ‘em!  I’m constantly struggling with sin, my life is busy and out of control, I’m depressed, I miss my family, and I have no idea what’s going to happen next!
(Side note:  even though this was written nearly 150 years ago, it’s hard to imagine a better portrait of the lives of 21st-century Christians.)

In every case, Bickersteth points out, the answer to our problems is Jesus.  In the blood of Jesus, we find forgiveness for sin.  We rest in our service to Him.  We turn to Him in despair.  We trust Him to protect our loved ones, no matter where they are.  It’s even OK that we don’t know the future, because we do know Jesus.  In other words, Jesus is not only the fulfillment of all of the Messianic prophecies of the Old Testament.  He’s the fulfillment of Isaiah 26:3, because perfect peace is possible through Him.

That’s an amazing point.  It’s so profound that “profound” doesn’t really do it justice.  Any Christian should be able to sit and meditate on that for a good long time.  

However, “Peace, Perfect Peace” doesn’t come right out and make that point.  It implies it, but in order to catch the implication, you have to know Isaiah 26:3.  
Sadly, a lot of Christians are more likely to know the square root of pi than they are to know Isaiah 26:3.  They’ve never read the Bible cover-to-cover even once.  When they come home from work, they don’t bust out the Good Book to relax.  They turn on the television.  As a result, their spiritual maturity is about on the level that a good friend of mine lampoons in his Answers To Every
Question In Bible Class:
               “Who did it?”
               “Jesus!”
               “Where did it happen?”
               “Jerusalem!”
               “What should we do?”
               “Obey God!”

Christians on this level are going to be baffled by the likes of “Peace, Perfect Peace” just as surely as the natural man of 1 Corinthians 2:14 is going to be baffled by the things of the Spirit of God.  They will find their worship home in the contemporary songs written with a Jesus-Jerusalem-obey God amount of depth because that’s how much spiritual depth they have too.

Of course, it’s not necessarily shameful for a Christian to be at that level.  If your hair’s still wet from your baptism, you’ve probably got some growing to do before you grow into Isaiah 26:3.  Yes, our repertoire should include songs for brethren at the wet-hair stage of spiritual maturity.  Often, believers at this point are best served by hymns that use simple, accessible choruses as a gateway to meatier verses.  Here’s something for you to understand now; here’s something for you to grow toward understanding.

What is shameful, though, is for Christians whose hair dried 25 years ago to remain spiritually immature and Biblically ignorant.  If you’ve allegedly been devoting your life to the Lord for decades (which is true of most Christians), you should know Isaiah 26:3.  

In fact, “Peace, Perfect Peace” assumes this level of Biblical mastery.  Bickersteth didn’t write the hymn because he thought that congregations of Victorian-era Anglicans would miss the point.  He wrote it because he expected them to get it.  The hymn’s survival, long after Bickersteth himself died, shows that worshipers did get it.  It is only the Biblical illiteracy of our age that renders the hymn (and others like it) inaccessible.

The solution to the problem is not to dumb down the repertoire.  That would be like “solving” the crime epidemic on the South Side of Chicago by making murder a misdemeanor.  When you address failure to meet a standard by lowering the standard, all you get is more bad behavior.  

Instead, we must allow our challenging hymns to challenge us.  In our songs, we need to wrestle with concepts above the Jesus-Jerusalem-obey God level.  We need to sing things that we don’t fully understand yet, identify our lack of comprehension, and seek answers in the word.  Let’s put away the childish things of a content-light repertoire and worship with doctrinally rich hymns that will lead us on to maturity!
 
Matthew W Bassford
http://hisexcellentword.blogspot.com/

The “dumps” is an easy place to find yourself if you aren’t careful.  In fact, lately I have visited more times than I care to admit.  If the doctors’ timetable holds, this could be an exciting year for me and I don’t mean that in a good way.

              I try to remind myself every day that “the dumps” is a dangerous place to be.  Cain found out when his visit there led him to kill his brother.  After offering his unacceptable sacrifice, God had warned him, “Why are you angry, and why has your countenance fallen?  If you do well, will you not be accepted?  And if you do not do well, sin couches at the door,” Gen 4:6,7, ASV.

              That word “couch” is a little odd to us.  We seem to think that God made a typo, and usually read it “crouch.”  The old King James says, “Lies at the door,” but that misses the connotation—an animal hunched up and ready to spring on its unwary prey.  Just like a lion, we might think, and isn’t that appropriate when we consider who exactly is waiting at the door for us and why? 

              When you allow yourself to visit “the dumps” you make yourself a prime target.  Grief certainly isn’t wrong, disappointment isn’t a sinful emotion, anger isn’t either according to Ephesians 4, but every one of those “downers” make us vulnerable to something that is sinful—bitterness, malice, and vengeance, just to name a few.

              “Get out of there,” God told Cain, but Cain stayed.  Instead of changing his attitude, his anger and disappointment became resentment and he slew his brother.

              When we wallow in the mires of sadness, we are far more prone to blame it all on God and give up our faith.  When we flounder around in the seas of anger, we are more apt to lash out.  If we tend toward hurt feelings, we are more likely to think badly of a perfectly innocent brother or sister, and then act on that bad feeling.  And every one of those “countenances” has to do with me making myself the center of attention.  When all I think about is me and how I feel and what has happened to me, Satan is leading me as if he were a compass, straight to the place where I will be more likely to fall.

              How do you stay out of the dumps?  Do well, God told Cain.  When you are doing, you are far less likely to get into trouble.  When others become the center of your attention, you will suddenly find you have left “the dumps.”  Satan will have no hand hold on you.  He can only get a good grip when your countenance falls, your mood dips, or your attitude sours on people and life in general.  Then he will step right up and be the friend you think you need, the one who says, “Of course you deserve better than this, of course they were mean to you, of course God has deserted you.”

              Have you been hearing those words lately?  Be careful.  You are visiting the dumps again and the owner of that junkyard is not your friend.
 
When my soul was embittered, when I was pricked in heart, I was brutish and ignorant; I was like a beast toward you. Nevertheless, I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. You guide me with your counsel, and afterward you will receive me to glory. Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. For behold, those who are far from you shall perish; you put an end to everyone who is unfaithful to you. But for me it is good to be near God; I have made the Lord GOD my refuge, that I may tell of all your works. Psa 73:21-28                       
 
Dene Ward

Today we had a Caribbean dinner—jerk grilled chicken breasts with tropical salsa, and sautéed sweet potato cakes.  We are not much for hot food so making my own jerk seasoning is a bonus—I can cut the red pepper in half.  As for the salsa, one tiny red jalapeno, seeded, ribbed, and finely diced, was plenty with the mango, pineapple, avocado, and onion.

              Ah, but those jalapenos do leave their mark.  Ordinarily I wash my hands half a dozen times during the course of cooking dinner, but I had finished with the raw chicken, the creamy avocado, and the sweet, slick mango so I hadn't washed them again after dicing that pepper and never even thought about it.

              After dinner we made our usual after-dinner-before-dishes walk to survey our little realm.  Keith absently reached down and held my hand.  Then he just as absently reached up with that same hand and scratched his eyelid.  At least it was his lid.  About the same time Chloe came up behind me and licked my dangling hand.  The next thing I knew Keith had a clean cloth up to dab his running eye and Chloe was at the water bucket lapping as quickly as she could.  I came inside and washed my hands immediately.

              We are often just as clueless as I was today about the influence we have on others.  One word, one thoughtless act, even one look can have repercussions that last for days, or weeks, or even years.  Paul reminded the Corinthians that "a little leaven leavens the whole lump" and told Timothy that the words of two specific men "eat like gangrene" (1 Cor 5:6; 2 Tim 2:17).

              The prevalent attitude I hear, even among brothers and sisters, is "that's their problem."  No.  God makes it plain that it is my problem when my influence causes others to fall.
Therefore, if food makes my brother stumble, I will never eat meat, lest I make my brother stumble. (1Cor 8:13)
And whosoever shall cause one of these little ones that believe on me to stumble, it were better for him if a great millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were cast into the sea. (Mark 9:42)

               It's time we grew up and realized our responsibility to others.  We will be judged for every "idle word," Jesus says.  That's a word we said without thought, without concern for others, without owning up to our responsibility for every little thing that escapes our tongues.  James says "Be…slow to speak…" not because you are slow-witted but because I am actually taking the time to consider what I am about to say before it's too late.  Sounds like an excellent reason to shut up once in a while, especially if I am prone to talk just to hear myself talk.
 ​When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent. (Prov 10:19)

               Don't forget to wash the jalapenos off your hands.
 
And he said to his disciples, “Temptations to sin are sure to come, but woe to the one through whom they come! (Luke 17:1)
 
Dene Ward

I am sure you have heard it too.  “God wouldn’t want me to be unhappy.”

              We have completely misunderstood the purpose of God when we think our happiness here has anything to do with it.  If it is possible, I believe he wants it so, but if it isn’t, if I have gotten myself into a fix that cannot be unraveled, if my being miserable in this life will accomplish his purpose, I know which matters more to him.  He is in the position to see the end, while I am stuck here seeing only the here and now and, far too often, neither learning from the past nor considering the future.  God knows what is best, and what is best is eternal salvation—the next life, not this one. 

              God has been saying this for thousands of years, but just like the ones who did not want to hear what Jesus had to say about his kingdom, we don’t want to hear what God has had to say about our physical lives. 

              Think of Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and others who suffered long and hard to accomplish their missions.  Think of Josiah who, because of his diligence in restoring the worship of Jehovah among his people, was given the reward of an early death—he would not have to see their punishment.  Think of John the Baptist who lived a short life precisely because God wanted it that way.  He had accomplished what was necessary—preaching repentance and preparing the people for the Messiah.  That mattered more than living a long, “happy” life.   He even came to realize it when he told his disciples, “He must increase and I must decrease.”  In this case, his “decrease” meant he had to be removed so the conflict, and even the jealousy, between his disciples and Jesus’ disciples would disappear.  Imagine what that would have done to God’s plan.  God used the machinations of a wicked woman to do it, but his purpose was accomplished, and John, the greatest ever born at the time (Matt 11:11), never had a normal “happy” life. 

              When did Paul say that David died?  Not after he got old and had lived a full life, but after “serving the purpose of the Lord,” Acts 13:36.  That’s what he was here for, and nothing else.  If you could talk to him now, I bet you he would say that the sorrows he bore were well worth it. 

              Paul makes a distinction between walking “in the flesh” and “according to the flesh,” 2 Cor 10:2,3.  He talks about people who make decisions “according to the flesh,” 1:17; he mentions those who live their entire lives not as people interested in their spiritual lives, but only in their physical lives, 1 Cor 3:1-3.  We may have to live as physical beings, but God expects us to keep our minds on the spiritual not the physical; on his purpose, not our selfish aims; on the eternal, not the temporal. 

              It is not my plans that matter.  Do I think that because I was only a Eunice I had no hand in the salvation of the souls Timothy’s preaching produced?  Do I think that because I was a Zebedee I had nothing to do with what my sons accomplished for the kingdom?  Those two people certainly fulfilled an important part of God’s plan.  To have tried to have been something other than they were because of their own selfish ambitions would have been to second guess God’s plan.

              Sometimes we don’t get what we want.  Sometimes God does want us to be unhappy in this life, if it means the salvation of souls.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain unmarried if they have ruined their chances for a scriptural marriage.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain in miserable marriages as long as possible.  Yes, he does mean for some to remain celibate if their “natural” tendency is to gravitate toward a sinful relationship.  Yes, he does mean for some to spend years of their lives paying society for their crimes even though they have repented.  Yes, he does mean for us to give up our life plans for the sake of his Eternal Plan.  Yes, he does mean for us to suffer illness and die, to be victims of accidents and calamities and perish, “for time and chance happen to all.”  If I think being happy in this life on this earth is the aim, I have missed the point of my existence altogether. 

              So whether or not I become blind in this life, whether you live long or die early, whether your marriage is good or bad, whether you feel fulfilled in your chosen occupation, none of those is the issue.  The question is, what can I do for God?  What can I do for others?  What can I do to ensure my own soul’s salvation?  Until I can accept God’s plan for me with joy, especially when it is something I do not want and had not planned on, I am not yet living the attitude “thy will be done.”
 
For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself. For if we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. For to this end Christ died and lived again, that he might be Lord both of the dead and of the living, Rom 14:7-9.
 
Dene Ward

On August 7, 1882, in Tug Creek, West Virginia, the most famous feud in American history began when Ellison Hatfield, wounded in a fight with Tolbert Pharmer and Randolph McCoy, died two days later.  However, the seeds of the feud go back to a dispute over a pig in 1879, and some say even to conflicts over sides in the Civil War.  The feud lasted until 1891, eventually involving state officials and militias in both Kentucky and West Virginia.

              The History Channel recently devoted a mini-series to the subject.  I nearly fell out of my chair when it depicted both families coming out of a meetinghouse with “TUG CREEK CHURCH OF CHRIST” painted over the front door.  I think that may be the most shameful thing about the whole affair, and the worst publicity the church ever received.  Here were people who claimed to be New Testament Christians, yet who not only argued with one another for years, but fought and killed each other as well. 

              I suppose I have always considered James’ admonition in chapter 4 to be a hyperbole.  What causes quarrels and what causes fights among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. Surely Christians do not act that way.  But here is historical proof that they do.

              The thing we must realize is this:  we are no better when we argue with one another, when we divide over things that do not matter, and when we refuse to speak or even sit on the same side of the meetinghouse because of our selfish grievances.  No, we do not kill, but we do the same damage to the gospel, and thus to the Lord.

              Paul appealed to the Corinthians by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ that there should be no divisions among them.  That means “by Christ’s’ authority,” and with reverence for him.  It means in gratitude for the mercy his name has brought us.  It means if we have any regard for Christ at all, then nothing should divide us but a concern for truth.  Jesus himself said that our unity would testify to the world that God had truly sent him.  What does it say about us when we think our own petty concerns are more important than those things?

              Our concern for unity should be utmost.  Pursue peace, Paul said in Rom 14:19.  Don’t just be satisfied if it happens to come along.  Be eager to keep the peace, he exhorted in Eph 4:3.  If that isn’t enough motivation consider this—God won’t be with us if we do not live in peace with one another, 2 Cor 13:11. 

              Peace doesn’t just mean we aren’t fighting and killing one another.  It means we are of “the same mind and the same spirit,” 1 Cor 1:10.  It means we count the other more important than ourselves, Phil 2:3.  It means we seek not to please ourselves, but our neighbor, For Christ did not please himself, but as it is written, "The reproaches of those who reproached you fell on me," Rom 15:3.  It means we are willing to be wronged rather than demean the name of Christ to the world, 1 Cor 6:7.

              A feud among the Lord’s people is nothing to be proud of.  We can think back to that famous feud, of the many lives lost, and shake our heads with dismay.  Now think of the souls lost too.  Some of those people may not have died physically during those years, but far more died spiritually.  It is one example of our forbears that we do not want to follow.
 
May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. Romans 15:5-7
 
Dene Ward