Truly, I say to you, among those born of women there has arisen no one greater than John the Baptist. Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. (Matt 11:11)
 
            Did you ever stop and think about that statement?  This is John, the blood cousin of Jesus, we are talking about.  John, the great preacher who gave up any semblance of a "normal" life--family, a comfortable home, a business, even the standard fare of the day that most of his Jewish friends and family enjoyed—all for the sake of his mission as the Forerunner of the Messiah.  John, the brave martyr who dared speak against an evil and sinful woman and her weak and ignominious husband.  Yet the least in the kingdom is greater than he?
            I am not going to define either "the least" or "the kingdom" in any sort of theological way.  I am sure great scholars could write pages about it, but I am not sure it would do me the same amount of good as simply considering these phrases at face value.  Are you in the kingdom of his Son?  I am, or so I claim.  I certainly do not claim to be the greatest.  I am much closer to the least, but greater than John?  I would never in a million years claim it, yet both Matthew and Luke record Jesus saying it.  It must be true in some way.
            I don't know about you, but that statement does not make me puff out my chest in pride.  Instead, it makes me hang my head in shame.  I have never lived up to John's example and I probably never will.  But when I think of what Jesus says here, it certainly makes me want to try harder.
            How about you?

And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one's deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot. (1Pet 1:17-19)
 
Dene Ward

I understand that the term “Southernism” refers to a trait of language or behavior that is characteristic of the South or Southerners.  I have a cookbook, Cooking Across the South compiled by Lillian Marshall, which extrapolates that definition to include certain Southern recipes, particularly older recipes.  She includes in that list things like hominy, frocking, poke sallet, and tomato gravy.  If you are from north of the Mason-Dixon Line, I am sure you are scratching your head at some of those things, wondering just what in the world they are besides strange.
            In the same vein, I wondered if we could stretch that idea to something we might call “Christianisms,” things a Christian would do that might seem peculiar to someone who isn’t one.  Like never using what the world now calls “colorful language;” like remaining calm and civil when someone mistreats you, doing, in fact, something nice for them; like not cheating on your taxes; like giving back the change that a cashier overpays you; like paying attention to the speed limit and other laws of the land even if there is not a trooper behind you; like cooking or cleaning house for an invalid; like making time for the worship on Sunday morning and arriving at the ball game late even if those tickets did cost a small fortune; like being careful of the clothing you choose to wear; like choosing not to see certain movies or watch certain television shows; like thinking that spending time with other Christians is far more enjoyable than things like “clubbing;” —these are my idea of Christianisms.  I am sure you could add more to the list.
            In the cookbook, I must admit, are many things I have never heard of, despite being a born and bred Southerner—frocking, for one.  You see I came along at a time when the South was starting to change, especially my part of it.  Disney changed everything.  Orlando used to be a one-horse town instead of the metropolis it has become.  I actually learned how to drive in Tampa on what is now I-275.  Can you imagine letting a first timer do that?  My part of the South has become less “southern” as the years have passed.  So, while I had roots in the traditions of the Deep South, I have lost familiarity with many of them.
            Wouldn’t it be a shame if we got to that point with “Christianisms?”  When you read that list I made, did you stop somewhere along the line and say, “Huh? Why would anyone do that?”  Have we allowed the “worldisms” to take the place of concepts and behaviors that ought to be second nature to us?  Can we even compose a list of things that make us different or have we become assimilated?
            Try making a list of the “Christianisms” in your life today.  Make sure you can come up with some, and if not, maybe it’s time to make a few changes.
 
Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent,  children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation,  among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life…Phil 2:14-16a.
 

Fill in the blank:  We ought to stop (handing out meeting announcements, sending out correspondence courses, putting articles in the weekly paper) because it's too expensive and doesn't do any good any way.  Oh, how many times have those words been said in the Lord's church?
            It was once said even as a new convert who had completed the correspondence course and continued a study with the preacher was sitting right there among them.
            It was once said when the preacher wanted to advertise the upcoming gospel meeting and was told, "We're right here on the highway.  They know where we are.  No need wasting the Lord's money that way."  Eventually, he paid for those printed announcements out of his own pocket and as he knocked on doors to hand them out was often asked, "Now, where are you located again?"
            These things may be long shots when it comes to sowing the seed, but who are we to say that, especially when we have a few plants springing up from those efforts who are being talked about as "not worth our money?"  Because that is what they are saying about them whether they mean to be or not.  God told us to sow the seed, and in that famous parable, to do it everywhere, letting Him give the increase, not us.  Just where is our faith?  If others have better ideas, let's hear them, not sit there worrying about keeping our money buried in a bank somewhere.
            Jesus had a thing or two to say about the worth of a soul.  For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? (Matt 16:26).  How would we feel if someone was worried that ours cost them too much?  And what will it profit our souls if we are willing to exchange the church's bank account for someone else's?
 
Woe to those who are wise in their own eyes, and shrewd in their own sight (Isa 5:21).
 
Dene Ward        

We have a neighbor who loves to fish.  In fact, he fishes so much that he cannot possibly use all the fish he brings home.  Lucky for us!  I now have an unending supply, usually of sea trout and shrimp, some of the best stuff out there.  When he brings it home, he even cleans it before he calls.  Amazing!  But someone has to do some messy work in order for anyone to enjoy the fruits of fishing.  Unless you go to a fish market, or the seafood section of your local grocer, or, even easier, the freezer case.
            Maybe that’s our problem—we’ve been to too many fish markets.
            Seems like when we go fishing for men, we don’t want anything messy.  The only ones we look for are the WASPs with nuclear families, unfettered by problems of any sort.  That’s where we build our meetinghouses, pass out our meeting announcements, and do our mass mailings.  We don’t want people with built-in problems, people overcoming addictions, people with messy family lives, people with “big bad sins” in their history.  No one wants a “high maintenance” convert who needs our support, our encouragement, our patience, and certainly not our time!  In fact, once a long time ago, Keith was chastised for “bringing the wrong class of people to church.”
            To whom did Jesus go?  Now all the publicans and sinners were drawing near to him to hear him, Luke 15:1, and I seem to remember a woman who had been married five times and was living with another man, John 4:18.  Would we have even given them the time of day?
            Jesus only appeals to those who need him, and unfortunately, people who have no “big” problems, no obvious needs, seldom think they need anyone.  It usually takes a crisis to wake them up.  So why are we so insistent upon turning our efforts to teach the gospel to the very ones who are least likely to listen?
            Maybe we no longer want to be fishers of men.  The “cleaning” is too messy, too difficult, too heart-wrenching, and too time-consuming. Instead of being fishers of men, as the old saying goes, we just want to be keepers of the aquarium, with a built-in filter (preacher) and someone else to feed the fish (elders and class teachers) so we can swim around in a pretty glass box with plastic mermaids and divers, and live our lives unbothered by things like helping one another grow to spirituality, and scraping the algae off our souls. 
            Maybe we have forgotten, or never even knew, the mindset of the first century church—a dynamic group of people, spreading God’s word to everyone they met, trying to take as many “fish” as they could to Heaven with them, regardless of how messy their lives were. 
            Maybe someone needs to come fishing for us again.
 
And the scribes of the Pharisees, when they saw that he was eating with the sinners and the publicans, said unto his disciples, “How is it that he eats and drinks with publicans and sinners?”  And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “They that are whole have no need of a physician, but they that are sick.  I came not to call the righteous, but sinners,” Mark 2:16,17.
 
Dene Ward

In the past year I have heard of several who have found the Lord's body by remembering things from long ago.  Some of them were good memories about a group of God's people and others not so good, but both kinds had them searching out the Truth and they wound up finding it, obeying the gospel or coming back to the Lord, whichever fit the occasion.  Seeds planted long ago finally germinated, which reminded me instantly of I planted, Apollos watered; but God gave the increase (1Cor 3:6).  Again and again I remind myself to just plant the seed and don't worry about the results; that part isn't my business.
            All of that made me wonder why we so constantly judge a preacher or teacher's efforts by the numbers.  Is it really fair, when his part is to plant or water?  If you want to count the numbers, you should be counting how many he preached to, not how many times the water splashed.  That's what the inspired writer Paul said.
            Sometimes you can teach your heart out only to see a class steadily shrink in size.  You can invite everyone in your neighborhood to come hear the gospel, knock on doors until your knuckles chafe, and speak to every waiter, cashier, or repairman, and never see any of them show up on Sunday morning.  If you planted the seed, you did what you were supposed to do.  Sometimes it takes a while to sprout.  In fact, you may not live long enough to see those tiny green leaves push up through the ground.  Sometimes that's just the way it works.
            We must stop judging by the numbers, by how many have been baptized and how much the membership has grown numerically.  There may well be other growth going on that is not quite so obvious but healthy for the kingdom just the same.  When we do judge by numerical results, just who are we judging?  I think the Book says we are judging God.  After all, He is the one who gives the increase.  I am not real sure I would want to be standing in those shoes!
 
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it (Isa 55:10-11).
 
Dene Ward
 

Once, long ago and far away, I answered a knock at the door and found an FBI agent on my doorstep.  He had not made a mistake; he had indeed found the address he was looking for.  And why would a federal agent be looking for us? 
            About a week before, we had received a letter in the mail.  It bore no return address and when we opened it, we found a hand printed letter full of foul language and tons of misspelled words and bad grammar.  I will always remember the last line of that letter:  "If you don't get out of town, I will burn you out."
          We took it to the postmaster of the small town where we lived and, because sending a threatening letter in the US Mail is a federal crime, he called the FBI.  And that is why the agent knocked on our door that morning.  He had come from a larger town about 30 miles away. No warning—we had no idea he was coming, but that might have been a strategical move. 
           We spent about a half hour answering questions:  who we were, what we did, if we had any known enemies.  When he discovered that Keith was a preacher, his attitude seemed to soften a bit.  He began pointing out things in the letter that I, young and inexperienced, had not even noticed.  The misspellings and bad grammar were inconsistent.  The same word was misspelled a different way later in the letter.  One time the writer said, "isn't" and the next time "ain't." 
        "I really think it is someone trying to disguise himself because it is someone you know," he finally said.
         He eventually apologized as he left.  His hands were tied unless someone actually made an attempt to harm us or succeeded in doing so, especially since we had no idea who it might be.  We were supposed to call if anything happened, or we received another threat of any kind via any method.
            It happened to be a Wednesday.  That night we went to Bible study and Keith began talking about the letter.  Then he mentioned the federal agent who had come to our door, "Because sending threats in the mail is a federal crime, you know."  Most people crowded around to hear the story and expressed horror that we had received something like that.  We made sure they knew the letter was counted as evidence in the case and was still in the agent's hands.
           We never received another letter, phone call, or threat of any sort while we lived there.  Of course we cannot prove it, but we think someone in the church had his toes stepped on and was trying to run us off.  We wonder if we were making progress with some and that others were afraid their sins would be uncovered.
          "But," you say, astounded, "would a Christian really stoop so low as to issue what could be taken as a murder threat?"
           Just who was it who plotted to kill Jesus?  The very religious leaders who should have recognized who he was and followed him—scribes, Pharisees, priests.  When people do not like your message, they will go farther than even they would have ever imagined to get rid of the messenger.  We have been lied about more than once.  We have been kicked out precisely because of what was preached—it wasn't even denied. 
          How did "Hosanna" become "Crucify him" in a week's time?  Corrupt leadership, the Lord's demand for commitment, humility, and sacrifice, refusal to see the true nature of the kingdom, and a mob mentality that always strays far from the personal ethics one claims.
           Any of us can fall prey to this.  It's hard to hear that we need to change.  It's difficult to face up to our sins.  It's challenging to realize we have faulty expectations of the Lord and what He expects of us.  It's tough realizing you have been wrong about something your entire life.  The devil will take your heart and twist it to the point that you won't even see the wrong you are doing in retaliation.
          Whoever sent that threatening letter got a rude awakening when he found out the FBI was involved and he could go to prison for what he had done.  There is a far worse imprisonment than that when we blame the Message on the messenger.  Getting rid of him won't change your stance before your Maker.
 
“You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart and ears, you always resist the Holy Spirit. As your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute? And they killed those who announced beforehand the coming of the Righteous One, whom you have now betrayed and murdered, you who received the law as delivered by angels and did not keep it.” (Acts 7:51-53)
 
Dene Ward
           

I remember those exciting mornings when, as a child, our parents woke us for an early start on a vacation trip.  It was dark and, even though it was summer in Florida, cool and damp.  Those were pre-seat belt days and often I would be carried straight out of bed and laid on the back seat, while my little sister got the back window.  Then we drove for several hours before the light finally woke us and we stopped for breakfast.
            We didn’t do much in the way of vacations—we couldn’t afford them.  Usually they were visits to distant family.  My parents left early so we had more driving time and avoided a motel bill, but those trips were still exciting.  We could not afford weekends away or trips to resorts or amusement parks, so any sort of trip was special.  And that breakfast out was special too because it was rare.  But we weren’t unusual—everyone lived that way.  Rising early for something that special was common to us all.
            We still have things we rise early for—work, school, a hunting trip, tailgating before a ball game, Black Friday, and yes, even leaving early for a vacation.  But do we ever rise up early for God?  Did you know that one of the hardest things for people to give up is their Sunday mornings?  At least it would seem that way when they skip the Bible study hour or at best swarm in at the last minute so they can get every extra minute possible of sleep.
            We are not living up to our heritage.  God’s people have always risen early to pray, to meditate, to worship.  Abraham (Gen 19:27), Jacob (Gen 28:18), Moses (Ex 24:4), and Job (1:5) all rose early to make sacrifices and meet with God.  Elkanah and his family rose early to travel to the tabernacle for the feast days (1 Sam 1:19).  Jesus rose early to go to the Temple (John 8:2) and so did the crowds who went to hear him.  It may not have been early when Jesus went to pray, but it was by the time he finished, having “prayed all night” (Luke 6:12). 
            The psalmist woke early to pray.  My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on your promise. (Ps 119:148).  The Jews recognized three night watches, beginning at sunset the night before and ending at dawn the next morning.  It may have been a bit hyperbolic but if not, he evidently awoke before each one began just to pray.  How many times have you or I ever interrupted our sleep to pray as often as that?  How many times have we done it even once?
            Obviously, their prayers and their worship meant a lot to those faithful people.  Neither was viewed as a duty, but as a privilege and a pleasure, just as much a pleasure as that long awaited vacation trip that has us up and at it and ready to go before dawn.
             More than that, we should be gratefully rising early to serve a God who rose early to save us.  And now, because you have done all these works, says Jehovah, and I spoke unto you, rising up early and speaking, but you heard not; and I called you, but you answered not: (Jer 7:13)  Those words to a faithless people can apply to us too.
          Maybe the problem isn’t attitude, but a simple lack of preparation.  Maybe Saturdays should not be for wearing ourselves out and staying up late.  Maybe they should be, at least a little bit, about preparation for our worship together on Sunday mornings.  God went to a lot of trouble to prepare things for us.  It seems a small thing to ask to prepare ourselves physically and mentally for Him at least one day a week.
 
And…evening had come, since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, (Mark 15:42).
Dene Ward

We had been unhappy with our griddle for a good while, so Keith went online shopping and found an appliance called a Griddler, put out by Cuisinart.  This little contraption with two heating elements that can either lie flat next to each other or fold over on each other, and with four interchangeable plates, two of which are double-sided, can be a panini press, a grill pan, a waffle iron, or it can be opened flat and used as a griddle.
            It does have a few disadvantages.  Because of the two separate plates with an inch space between them, you can only fit four pancakes on it at once instead of six, but there are only two of us so that's no problem.  It seems to take longer for the pancakes to cook, too.  However, the panini we get are amazingly crisp and with the grill plates, you can grill both sides at once, making that process much faster. 
            The plates—flat, grill-marked, and waffled—are nonstick.  Boy, are they nonstick.  You want to know how I found out?
            When I pour pancake batter on this thing, I have no trouble at all.  Maybe it is because they immediately begin to cook and the batter is thick enough not to run.  But eggs are another thing entirely.  Evidently the side that is the "top" if you fold it, does not sit exactly flat when opened up.  It looks close enough that I did not realize that.
            One day we decided to have breakfast for dinner.  I preheated the pan and, just because my husband likes it that way, I put a teaspoon of bacon grease on the already slick surface.  Then I poured on the raw eggs. 
            Immediately the eggs slid over to the side of the pan.  Before I could move, one had slid onto the counter and down onto the floor—splat!--between my feet.  I managed by then to get my flipper flat end standing on the surface of the pan at the rim, but that didn't stop it fast enough.  All the eggs kept sliding, building up around my flipper edge until they started oozing around the sides of it and headed for the fall once again.  I grabbed another flipper and stood it up on the rim of the pan next to the first one to catch a larger portion of the running egg whites.
            Meanwhile, I started hollering, probably nothing intelligible.  At this point I was straddling one egg and holding two flippers erect trying to keep the rest of the eggs on the pan.  Keith came running and saw what was happening.  He grabbed some paper towels and knelt down between my feet to clean up the floor.  That meant I had to squat a bit to fit his shoulders in there.  I wish I had a picture—but then, maybe not.  Finally I could actually move my feet without stepping into eggs and sliding across the floor.  He grabbed one of the flippers while I raked a little of the now cooked egg white back from the lip of the pan with the other and made a nice little dam.  Another minute and I could flip the eggs over and they actually stayed put.
            We stepped back, a little winded, shaking our heads at what had just happened.  The two of us working together meant we had only lost one egg and, believe it or not, the others were cooked perfectly.
            Now imagine if he had looked over, seen what was happening and said, "That was a stupid thing to do."
            Or, "If you hadn't poured them out so quickly that wouldn't have happened."
            Or, "That's your job not mine."
            Or, "Someone else will take care of it."
            Or, "That's not my talent," and hadn't lifted a finger to help.
            We wouldn't have had dinner, and we would have probably lost far more than one egg.
            Too bad that's what happens in the church too often.  And it's deplorable that too often in our judgmental, self-serving apathy we lose far more than one soul-less little egg.
 
Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love. (Eph 4:15-16)
 
Dene Ward

I hardly ever make a post on my personal Facebook page.  I have it so I can keep up with my children and have a separate page for this blog more than anything else.  I might post ten times a year and that's it.  Recently, I remembered why.
            I had spent the morning picking up groceries, steadily growing more and more alarmed at the price increases.  Finally a jar of mayonnaise took my breath away.  $8.62!!!  So I came home and made a humorous little post about needing to carry around smelling salts to revive myself every other aisle, hoping it might give everyone a chuckle, something sorely needed these days.  I should have known better.  My attempt at consolation turned into an argument about where one should and should not shop.
            A few years ago I wrote a blogpost about an old hymn whose words had been changed from the lyricist's original ones due to an editor not knowing his Bible, evidently.  I carefully explained the original words (and where I found them), and what they should mean to us.  I got a dozen argumentative replies that eventually deteriorated into an ongoing argument between various commenters (none of whom I knew).  After three years, the argument was still going strong with people checking in to add more vitriol to a debate about a hymn!  Something that should have been helpful, not a cause of strife.  So I deleted it.  It was no longer fulfilling its purpose, if it ever did after that first ugly comment.
            I am not sure what I am getting at today.  Maybe it's watching people miss the real point over and over and over on Facebook, on blog comments, in Bible classes, and everyone else jumping on the bandwagon to take the discussion off the rails into a chasm of futility that creates division instead of bonding us together in the same fight.  And so many of these people claiming to be Christians! 
           But then, they did it to Jesus, too.  How many times did a compassionate healing become an argument about their Sabbath rules?  How many times did a lesson on love and grace turn into a hate-filled diatribe?  How many times did a point offered for consideration become a point to misconstrue and argue about, even to make an unwarranted accusation about?  Why are we so quick to jump in with criticism?  Why do we think it is our God-given role to say, "Yes, but," and pontificate on the other side when it isn't the one that is most needed?  Why do we always think that we are the ones who can say it the right way and make everyone understand and that we know better than anyone else how to say something?  Some of us are drawn to arguments like a magnet.  As Paul told Timothy, some of us have an unhealthy craving for controversy and for quarrels about words, which produce envy, dissension, slander, evil suspicions (1Tim 6:4).
            Maybe today I am just giving in to a weariness about the mess the world's in not just on Facebook, but everywhere we look--except when we look at our Lord, whose simple message can fix anything—if we let it.  Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke on you and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Matt 11:28-29).
 
Remind them of these things, and charge them before God not to quarrel about words, which does no good, but only ruins the hearers (2Tim 2:14).
 
Dene Ward

The statements of Jesus are some of the most twisted and misused statements you will ever find.  I am sure you have instantly thought of "Judge not that you be not judged…" Oh, if that were the only one!
            How about this one?  Woe unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! for you tithe mint and anise and cummin, and have left undone the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith… (Matt 23:23).  Usually that is quoted when people think that the little things don't matter, that as long as we have good hearts (the "big thing"), we can do as we please otherwise.  But once again they are misusing the scripture.  In the first place, that is not the whole the verse.  Immediately after this, Jesus adds, but these you ought to have done and not left the other undone.  Jesus does not excuse us from following God's Word to the minutest detail—"these you ought to have done"—he simply stresses the larger matters.
            It is not that difficult to understand.  What would you say are the larger things a good husband should do?  Sexual faithfulness probably tops the list, especially since God makes that the one thing that can dissolve a marriage in His eyes (Matt 19:9).  But most women would probably add things like a responsible, mature provider, a good father, and certainly not an abuser.  All of those qualify as "the weightier matters", I think.
            But are there any little things you might like in a husband as well?  Remembering special days, especially anniversaries.  Maybe even remembering your favorite color or favorite flower.  You might find it especially endearing if he brings you a cup of coffee in bed every morning before he leaves for work, or brings home a hand-picked bouquet of wildflowers on an ordinary day, "out of the blue".  Certainly these are all small things, things most people would consider nice but unnecessary to a good marriage.  But what do those things say?  They say I love you, I care enough to remember things that are special to you, I will go out of my way to do something sweet for you—I have picked burrs off the slacks he wore when wading through those wildflower fields, but I didn't mind one bit!
            If that is how you feel about things that are small, what makes you think they mean any less to the God who created us and made us in His image?  Don't quote only half of Jesus' statements, twist them to mean something he did not, take them out of context, or any other of a half a dozen ways people do injustice to his words, for Jesus also says, the little things do matter.
 
Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commands and teaches people to do so will be called least in the kingdom of heaven… (Matt 5:19).

Dene Ward