While I was teaching music I was a member of several professional organizations.  My favorite was the local group which met seven times a year in members’ homes for business, some high-spirited performances, and a potluck lunch.  Once we met in a house just off the highway, down a lime rock road.  In the middle of the meeting, a rain came up—not just any rain, but one we around here call a “toad strangler,” several inches in less than an hour—they happen all the time in Florida. 
            The rain had stopped when it was time to leave and we took off down the dirt road shortcut in a caravan of cars headed to our various studios to meet the students for the day.  Suddenly, the cars ahead of me came to a halt, and ladies started climbing out, gathering together and peering up ahead.  I turned off the engine and joined the milling crowd at the head of the line. 
            Water had run across the road.  It had not cut a deep rut, and in fact, was a nice shallow-looking, easily fordable stream, but we had all lived in the country long enough to know you don’t just drive through water running across an unpaved road.  “Someone needs to walk out there and check the road,” was the consensus. 
            Have I mentioned that at 35 I was the youngest in the group by about thirty years?  Instantly, all heads turned toward me.  Having been silently elected, I slipped off my shoes and started across the newly created waterway.  I took five firm steps only to have to grab my skirt and hike it up over my knees as I sank exactly that deep on the sixth.  Instantly I had visions of those jungle movies I used to watch on Saturday afternoons as a kid, where the first one in the safari line sinks in the quicksand because, in spite of everyone telling him to be still, he wiggles and squirms and sinks before anyone can even think to cut a vine and use it to pull him out—or if some bright fellow does think of it, twenty people on the other end cannot out-pull the suction of a big mud puddle.. 
            A good minute later it dawned on me that my name was being called, and I still had not sunk any farther.  My feet had found a solid layer of hardpan about two feet below the surface so Tarzan swinging to the rescue was totally unnecessary.  I made my way back to the group with the most unladylike thwock, thwock, thwock noises as the suction released with each step.  We all carefully backed our cars down the one lane road, turned around in the driveway from where we had started and went the long way home, down the paved state highway.
            Hopelessness in the scriptures is often pictured as “sinking.”  Jeremiah prophesies that Babylon will sink and shall not rise again because of the evil I will bring upon her, 51:64.  Amos warns Israel that they are in for the same punishment: they shall sink again like the River of Egypt, 8:8; 9:5.  And all because of sin.  Even Peter, when he tried to walk on water, began to sink because of little faith and doubt, Matt 14:31.  And truly, just like sinking in the quicksand (at least in the old grade B movies), there is nothing we can do but hope a savior happens along.  Praise God, he has!
            The Psalmist pleads in 22:8 Commit yourself to Jehovah, let him deliver you; let him rescue you, seeing he delights in you.  In spite of the fact that, like an ignorant city slicker, we walked out into that mud on purpose, in spite of the fact that we ignored warning after warning, and kept right on wiggling and squirming, and even when we have been pulled out before, but keep stepping right back into the same pool of quicksand, Jesus is ready to hold out a hand and save us. 
 
Deliver me out of the mire and let me not sink… Let not the waterflood overwhelm me and swallow me up…Answer me, oh Jehovah, for your lovingkindness is good.  According to the multitude of your tender mercies, turn to me; and hide not your face from your servant, for I am in distress; answer me quickly. Psa 69:14-17
 
Dene Ward

When my boys were young they were enchanted with a movie called “The Never-Ending Story.”  You see, when the movie ended it started all over again, and then again, and again. 
            Maybe it’s because I am a woman that I never saw the appeal.  All I could think of was housework—laundry that needs washing over and over, shirts that need ironing again and again, dust that keeps settling, meals that need cooking three times a day.  Oh for something that when I finish with it will stay finished!
            I think the Old Testament Jews understood a little.  Have you ever read the complex procedure for the Day of Atonement?  You should sometime, and then think about the promise of a forgiveness that lasts forever.
            Every year the sins that were forgiven the year before were once again remembered against God’s people, and every year the pile grew bigger and bigger.  At least when I do the laundry, I know a shirt that I washed and ironed will not be back in the hamper until it has once again been worn.  Imagine if everything you ever washed got dirty again the next week just because clean would not stay clean! 
            The first century Jewish Christians surely appreciated the blessing of forgiveness far better than we can.  They had been waiting for that promise to be fulfilled for hundreds of years.  Behold the days come, says Jehovah, that I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and with the house of Judah, not according to the covenant that I made with their fathers in the day that I took them by the hands to bring them out of the land of Egypt…But this is the covenant that I will make…says Jehovah:  I will put my law in their inward parts and in their heart will I write it, and I will be their God and they shall be my people, and they shall teach no more every man his neighbor and every man his brother saying, Know Jehovah, for they shall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, says Jehovah; for I will forgive their iniquity and their sins will I remember no more, Jer 31:31-34.
            A high priest was coming who would offer himself, a perfect sacrifice that would cleanse each sin forever.  That pile of guilt would no longer build up on each one, becoming heavier and heavier, needing yet another sacrifice every year.  Think what that must have meant to a people who through the years had seen oceans of blood pouring down that manmade altar, knowing that next year, the same thing must happen again, not only for new sins, but for exactly the same old ones as well.  What a relief.
            And what a relief for us to know that God forgives and forgets, and that because of that wonderful blessing we can enjoy another “Never-Ending Story” that will remind us of a blessing, instead of a burden. 
 
And they indeed have been made priests many in number because by death they are hindered from continuing; but he, because he abides forever, has his priesthood unchangeable.  Wherefore also he is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him, seeing he ever lives to make intercession for them.  For such a high priest became us, holy, guileless, undefiled, separated from sinners, and made higher than the heavens, who needs not daily, like those high priests to offer up sacrifices, first for his own sins, and then for the sins of the people, for this he did once for all, when he offered up himself,. Heb 7:23-27.
 
Dene Ward

“Do you love me, Peter?”
            “Lord, you know I love you.”
            “Feed my sheep.”
            Most of us are familiar with the scene on the seashore recorded in John 21.  I think we make a lot of fuss over the word “love” in its various permutations because we have read a Greek dictionary and think we have suddenly become scholars with great insight.  In reality there is considerable disagreement about what Jesus and Peter may or may not have intended. 
            However, most people agree that Jesus repeats the question three times because of Peter’s three denials.  Peter had already repented in bitter tears and was surely forgiven, but this gave him the opportunity to make amends in another, more direct way.
            Peter takes a lot of grief for his failings.  I have heard many say, and have more than likely said myself, “Peter gives me hope.  If the Lord will take him, surely he will take me.”   Why do we think we are any better than Peter? 
            Is it any less a denial of the Lord as the master of my life when I fail to act as He would?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to speak His word in an age of political correctness?  Is it any less a denial when I fail to follow His example in forgiving my neighbor, my brother, my spouse, or simply the other driver or shopper or the waitress or store clerk?  Is it any less a denial when my life matches the world instead of my Savior’s?  I may stand up and confess His name on Sunday morning, but it’s how I live my life the rest of the week that truly tells the story, and neither the circumstances nor the provocation matter.  All of my reactions to the circumstances of life and to other people are either a confession or a denial of Jesus as the Lord of my life.
            How many times should the Lord ask me, “Do you love me?”  How many second chances do I need?  How many will I need just today?
 
But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.  All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and Jehovah hath laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isa 53:5,6.
 
Dene Ward

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

Today's post is by guest writer Lucas Ward.  It is lengthy, but oh so worth it.

What is our hope and is it secure? Can we rely on our hope? These are some of the things I want to address. First, we need to define "hope." In Greek, the word "hope" is elpis which means expectation or confidence. So, when Paul or Peter were discussing hope, they didn’t mean wishing, but rather something expected, in which they could have confidence. A backwards example of what I mean comes from Paul’s voyage to Rome:

Acts 27:20 “When neither sun nor stars appeared for many days, and no small tempest lay on us, all hope of our being saved was at last abandoned.”

They lost hope of being saved because there was no reasonable expectation of living through that storm. It is in the next few verses after this that Paul tells them that God promised they’d be saved. Before that promise, however, there was no reasonable expectation of surviving, so they abandoned hope. While most undoubtedly wished for something to save them, there was no hope. That’s the difference between wishing and hoping, at least in the New Testament.

Our hope, of course, is set on God and because of that, our hope is not built of flimsy wishes:

2 Cor. 1:9-10 “. . . But that was to make us rely not on ourselves but on God who raises the dead. . . On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

If God is able to raise the dead, surely He can be counted on to fulfill His promises. Abraham certainly felt that was the case:

Rom. 4:18. “In hope he believed against hope, that he should become the father of many nations, as he had been told, ‘So shall your offspring be.’”

It’s interesting how Paul writes this “in hope he believed against hope”. There was no reasonable expectation for Abraham to have children. He was past the age of begetting children. Sarah was past menopause. She had also been barren all her life. Everything Abraham knew about the birds and bees told him to give up all hope in children, but God had promised. Abraham knew that the promises of God were sure and so he believed in the promise of God despite what earthly knowledge told him. That is how secure the promise of God is: we can reasonably believe in it when all other reason tells us it doesn’t make sense. So Abraham held to his hope and received the promise.

Abraham hoped for a seed. What is it that we hope for? I don’t know about you, but I hope for salvation from Hell. I have sinned (so have you) and the consequences of that is a ticket to Hell unless I am saved by God. In His love, He has effected this salvation and promised it to us:

Eph. 2:7-9. “so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

To emphasize what Paul wrote, salvation is by grace through faith. More pointedly, it is not by works. Grace is translated from the Greek word charis which means gift or liberality. It is often redundantly defined as unmerited favor. It is benevolence bestowed to those who don’t deserve it. If salvation is by grace as stated in Ephesians, then there is nothing I can do to earn it. It doesn’t depend on my efforts at all. And this idea doesn’t come from an isolated passage in one epistle, either:

Rom. 3:23-24 “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are JUSTIFIED BY HIS GRACE AS A GIFT, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.”
Rom. 11:6. “But if it is by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace.”

So, God is saying that salvation is His gift to us, offered freely to all who will have the faith to accept it. It is not by works and I CAN’T EARN IT. Either this is true, or God is a liar.

Now, let me slow down a bit to state some obvious things. We are saved by grace through faith, but how do we show our faith? James 2 makes it clear that saving faith is active faith, that because we believe in God, we work for Him. In John 14:23 the Lord says that if we love Him we will keep His commandments. Romans 6 says we are the bondservants of him whom we choose to follow: sin to death or God to life. So as our faith leads us to God we become His servants and servants obey their Master. So, there is work to be done, but none of that earns us salvation.

Luke 17:10 “Even so you also, when you shall have done all the things that are commanded you, say, We are unprofitable servants; we have done that which it was our duty to do.”

As someone who used to study accounting, that word “unprofitable” jumps out at me. How are we unprofitable? Let me ask you a question: What was the price God paid to purchase us? 1 Cor. 6:20 clearly states that we have been bought with a price, what was the price? The death of God’s Son, that’s what the price was. If that is what it cost God to obtain us as His servants, is there any amount of work I can do to pay Him back? If every second of my life is devoted solely to Him for the rest of my life, would that balance the books? No, regardless of my efforts I am an unprofitable servant. So God purchasing me unto salvation is always benevolence granted, no matter what I do. I CANNOT EARN SALVATION. So, my hope should not rely upon how well I am living right now. My hope, instead, is in His grace

1 Peter 1:13 “Therefore, preparing your minds for action, and being sober-minded, set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”

And

2 Thess. 2:16-17 “Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God our Father, who loved us and gave us eternal comfort and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts and establish them in every good work and word.”

According to Peter, I should set my hope fully on God’s grace. Paul tells the Thessalonians that they could take comfort is the hope of grace. In other words, God has promised us that His grace will secure our salvation. So, hoping in His grace is hoping on His promises. Which leads to the question, can we trust the promises of God? That isn’t meant to be blasphemous, but rather a reasonable question. If my hope, or reasonable expectation, is to be based on His promises, I need to know that it is reasonable to believe Him. I could spend hours nailing down from the Old Testament example after example of how God always keeps His promises, but two New Testament passages based on all that history will have to do for now:

1 Cor. 1:9 “God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.”

God is faithful. He is trustworthy. He does what He says He will do. Paul can confidently write that because he knew of the OT history I mentioned previously. God always followed through.

Heb. 6:17-18 “So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us.”

Notice the phrase “it is impossible for God to lie”. So, God has a long history of fulfilling all His promises and it is impossible for Him to lie. I think it is safe to rely on His promises.

So, if my hope of salvation is not based on how good I am at any particular moment, but instead is based on the grace of God, then I can have peace. I don’t have to be constantly worried about “making it to heaven”, but can be at peace. This is how God intended it. Notice that Paul describes the Gospel as the Gospel of peace in Eph. 6:15. In fact, the readiness of the Gospel of peace are the shoes we are to wear as part of our “armor of God”. In Phil. 4, we are told to be anxious about nothing. Why, because we can take all our worries to God and He will handle them and give us the “peace of God”.

Christians should have no fear or anxiety about their salvation. I think one of the saddest things on the planet is when I hear Christians say things like “Well, if I make it to heaven. . .” or “maybe I’ll make it”. No, there is no maybe if we walk in faith. Why, because my hope isn’t in me or my righteousness but in God’s promises! Your hope isn’t in your righteousness but in God’s promises. If my line of argument isn’t good enough to convince you of that, perhaps you will listen to Peter:

1 Pet. 1:21 “who through him are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.”

“Your faith and hope are in God.” So, to be saved I don’t have to figure out how to live perfectly every moment of every day. My salvation doesn’t depend on me, but on His grace. As an unprofitable servant, I can’t be saved no matter how careful I am, so I should gratefully trust in His grace and be at peace. Now, let me hasten to say that I am not trying to justify sin. I am not giving you an out for living your life however you want. If you are in sin and you know you are in sin, you had best repent and return to living faithfully before the Lord. But as it says in 1 John 1:7, if we are walking in the light his blood will cleanse us from sin.

So, I am not trying to give you assurance that you can continue in sin and be fine before the Lord, but rather that we don’t have the pressure of living a sinless life. We shouldn’t have the anxiety of hoping to die in between sins, right after we’ve prayed for forgiveness. As Christians we should be continually growing as we walk with Him. I don’t know about you, but as I’ve grown I’ve realized that some things I had been doing I probably shouldn’t be doing. That there were things I should be doing that I hadn’t been doing. That certain passages applied to me in ways that I hadn’t realized before. What if I had died before realizing those things? Would I have gone to hell? NO. Since my hope in not on my righteousness but on His grace and since I was walking in the light as best I knew how, and continuing to grow I have no doubt that my salvation was secure. Having learned to be better, however, I now need to make those changes to continue to be “in the light”. No matter how we look at it, salvation is God’s gift which I can’t earn. If we are following Him as best we can in faith according to His word, we WILL be saved by His grace. We should be at peace about that because our hope is secure in His grace, in His promises, which cannot fail.

I once heard Dee Bowman describe how he’d feel if he happened to live to see the return of the Lord. He did not mention fear. There was no dread or worry. He described jumping up and down in excitement and joy hollering “Yes! Yes! Come on, Lord!” That is the kind of faithful assurance we should all have, knowing our hope is not in our own righteousness, but instead in the promise of God. God’s promise not only assures us of salvation, it grants us peace.
 
Lucas Ward

At the end of the garden season, I dry out my hot chili peppers and make chili powder.  I have found a good formula, one part chili pepper, two parts ground cumin, one part dried oregano, and two parts garlic powder.  The first few times I made it, I used a blend of Anaheim and cayenne peppers.  This year Keith shopped for the chili pepper plants and came home with habaneros.  If you know anything about the Scoville heat scale, you know that cayennes, while not at the mild end of the scale, are a couple hundred thousand units removed from habaneros which sit at the hottest end.
 
           To make chili powder, you must first dry the chili peppers, then remove the stems and grind them up.  A lot of the heat is in the seeds, so I, being a wimp when it comes to hot peppers, shook out the loose seeds as well—habaneros are hot enough as is.  I had enough sense to wear latex gloves while handling these babies, but that is where good sense stopped.  When I took the lid off the grinder to see if any pieces remained intact, the cloud of chili powder, totally invisible to the naked eye, rose up into my face.  How did I know?  My nose started running, my lips started burning, and I sneezed nearly a dozen times.  I had pepper-maced myself.  I am so very glad I had reading glasses on.  I do not know what might have happened to these poor eyes!  I know people who don’t even use gloves to work with hot peppers, but next time I will reach for a gas mask!

            Sin and conscience work the same way.  Especially nowadays when sophistication is judged by how little one allows sinful behavior to shock him, we have a tendency to think we can sin indiscriminately and feel just fine about ourselves afterwards.  What was it Paul said about the idolatrous pagans?  For when Gentiles who do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires, they are a law to themselves even though they do not have the law.  They show that the law of God is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts either accuse or even excuse themselves, Rom 2:14,15.  You can’t get away from your conscience no matter how sophisticated you think you are.

            The scriptures are littered with people who suffered pangs of conscience.  Adam and Eve hid themselves after they had sinned.  The brothers of Joseph twice confessed their sin against their brother, attributing all the bad things that happened in Egypt with the hostile “Egyptian” ruler as their just recompense.  Pharaoh, of all people, said to Moses and Aaron, This time I have sinned.  The Lord is in the right, and I and my people are in the wrong, Ex 9:27.   David sinned more than the once we often focus on.  His “heart smote him” after he numbered the people in 2 Sam 24 and his psalms of repentance after the sin against Bathsheba and Uriah abound with overwhelming guilt. 

            Herod was so wrought with guilt after killing John that he thought Jesus was John coming back from the dead.  Peter’s denial caused him to “weep bitterly,” while Judas’s betrayal led to suicide.  Even Paul, a man who surely knew he was forgiven, called himself “the chiefest of sinners” to the end of his life.

            And we think we can get away with sin and have it not affect us?  Guilt is like that burning chili pepper cloud.  You can’t see it, but your conscience will still feel its effects, and if you don’t deal with it, you will lead a miserable life--at least until you burn that conscience out as if you had “branded it with a hot iron,” 1 Tim 4:2.

            Do you know how to get rid of the pain of burning chili peppers?  Dairy products.  If you forget your gloves and those oils get under your nails or in a nick or cut, soak your hands in milk.  That is also why there is usually a dollop of sour cream on most Mexican dishes. 

            Do you know how to get rid of the pain of a burning conscience?  Soak it in the blood of Christ.  It works wonders.
 
For if the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer sprinkling them that have been defiled sanctify unto the cleanness of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish unto God, cleanse your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?  Heb 9:13,14.
 
Dene Ward

It happened again the last time I went in.  I got another new resident assigned to do the preliminary work-up.  Since it was a cornea appointment instead of a glaucoma appointment he had not even planned to check the pressures.  I mentioned that my vision was foggy and my eye felt a little different.  Could that be caused by higher pressures?
 
           “Oh no,” he confidently asserted. “Your pressure would have to be over 50 for that to happen, and you would be throwing up by now.” 

            I looked at him and said, “I’ve been at 70 before without symptoms.”  I am not sure he believed me until he went to the next hall over and pulled my other file, the four inch thick one with more notes than he had probably seen on any six patients put together.  He read for several minutes and discovered that the obvious course of action for most patients is the worst course for me, and quietly took my pressures.  They were indeed high.  If nothing else, that day he learned that not all patients follow the rules.

            We can be a little like that inexperienced young doctor when it comes to following God’s law.  We so badly want it all spelled out in black and white for every situation life hands us--it’s so much easier than having to think and examine our hearts.  That’s why we who have led sheltered lives, perhaps growing up in the church as second, third, or even fourth generation Christians who have never had a drink, never let a bad word slip, and never even considered breaking one of the “big” commandments, can be so judgmental about others who still struggle every day.  A young Christian who came from a rough background recently said to me, “People in the church look down on me when I talk about battling sin.  They say if my faith is genuine, it shouldn’t be that way.”  We carry our rule books, measuring everyone around us, instead of using the sense God gave us, and the love and encouragement he expects of us.

            Rule Book people have another problem as well. Despite their protestations of having a true faith because it does so many works, many never truly believe in the grace of God.  Some of these poor misguided people worry themselves silly wondering whether they are truly saved.  They second-guess every decision they make; they are never confident that they are doing well.  Someone has forgotten to read John’s first epistle to them, which he wrote “so you may know you have eternal life,” 1 John 5:13.

            Finally, those folks work so hard to get every little detail right that they often miss the point of the commandment they are trying to follow.  The Pharisees are the ultimate example.  Even though they began with the simple and righteous desire to follow God’s law exactly, they eventually reached the point that they totally missed the focus of the Law.  It became a study of minutiae instead of concept.  I once read a bit of one their documents discussing the passage, “I meditate on thee in the night watches,” (Psa 63:6).  The point of the passage is to be thinking on spiritual things all through the day and night, but the next four pages were devoted to various rabbis’ arguments about how many night watches there were so they could be sure to meditate exactly that many times! That is what happens when you focus only on the rules and never the heart.  Surely none of us wants to be in a group Jesus called “a brood of vipers.”

            Do not misunderstand me.  I believe God has a set of laws He expects us to follow to the letter, but life is not always simple.  Sometimes a situation arises that is not cut and dried.  We have to actually think about what the right course of action is and make the best possible decision.  Sometimes what I feel is right for me may not be what you feel is right for you.  It is not situation ethics.  It is simply a place where God has not spelled things out, but has left us as His children to pray and meditate, and make a decision from a heart of love and good intentions, and then to trust His grace if we have made a mistake.  To do otherwise, or to simply do nothing, would be the sin, and to judge otherwise, would be the self-righteousness Jesus despised.
 
And he spoke also this parable unto certain who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and set all others at naught: Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee, and the other a publican.  The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, God, I thank you, that I am not as the rest of men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican. I fast twice in the week; I give tithes of all that I get. But the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote his breast, saying, God, be merciful to me a sinner. I say unto you, This man went down to his house justified rather than the other: for every one who exalts himself shall be humbled; but he who humbles himself shall be exalted, Luke 18:9-14.
 
Dene Ward
 

We live on a hillside.  You don’t really notice it when you first drive onto the property.  The hill is shallow as hills go, dropping about twenty feet in five hundred.  In another climate one would seldom think anything of it.  But in Florida, in the summer, torrential downpours are common.  Not too long ago we had two and a half inches come down in less than thirty minutes.  Two or three days before we had six inches, but it took all day to accumulate that.  When nearly half that much pours out of the sky in such a short time, you feel like ten have fallen instead.

           It was as if a giant bucket were being upended over us.  We could hardly see the blueberries only hundred feet away.  The roar on the metal roof was deafening.  The rushing water overwhelmed the culvert in the drive and washed over the road and out to the garden where it ran against the berm in a narrow creek.  We had built that berm precisely because of rains like this one—we were tired of wading “downstream” to rescue washed away garden plants. 

            Eventually we left the porch which was not much shelter in a rain like that—the merest breeze left us damp and shivering, even in the summer.  So we stepped back inside and looked out the windows to the north.  Now you could really tell—we are definitely on a hill.  Water ran like a river across the entire width of the yard, from the front steps to the fence, ten to twelve inches deep.  We watched leaves, twigs, and moss float “downstream” to the run on the east side of the property.  After the rain stopped, it kept running, draining the whole hillside, for another hour.

            A week after that rain, I walked the path the water had taken.  Leaves were washed into piles a foot deep along the runnel.  Limbs hung up on some of the bushes but others, dragged by the running water, lay piled up against the fence which had acted as a sieve as the water ran through it.  Channels several inches deep marked the dried mud, and the grass was still bent over in the direction the water had flowed.  Running water is powerful.

            The flood continued forty days on the earth. The waters increased and bore up the ark, and it rose high above the earth. The waters prevailed and increased greatly on the earth, and the ark floated on the face of the waters. And the waters prevailed so mightily on the earth that all the high mountains under the whole heaven were covered. The waters prevailed above the mountains, covering them fifteen cubits deep, Gen 7:17-20.

            The waters of the great Flood “prevailed.”  Those waters not only covered the earth, they drowned every living creature on it that was not in the ark or swimming in the newly created worldwide ocean.  Have you ever seen a flash flood?  Have you ever heard the stories of one?  No one can win against those “prevailing” waters.  If you try to hang on to something, you simply wear out and are washed downstream. 

            The same word is used in Ex 17:11: So Joshua did as Moses told him, and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed, and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed.  We are talking about winning a war with that word; that’s the strength implied in its use.  It should be no surprise that “prevailed” is also translated “strong” and “mighty.”

            So why is that important?  Because the same Hebrew word is used in Psalm 117:2.  For great [that same Hebrew word] is His steadfast love toward us.  God’s love for us is strong; it is mighty.  It is like rushing water that carries along everything in its path.  It is like an army winning a war.  Sometimes we seem to doubt that.  “But I’ve been so bad,” we say, “how can God love me?”  He can love you because His love is great. It can prevail against the worst of sins.

            The next time you doubt it, think about flood waters, think about an army that can win a war.  God’s love is just like those things.  It prevails over all.
 
For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord, Rom 8:38,39.
 
Dene Ward

Have you heard the story of the Pied Piper of Hamelin?  Well, it seems there may be a kernel of truth to it, but first let's go through it quickly.  One June day in 1284, according to the brothers Grimm, a colorfully dressed man arrived in Hamelin, claiming he could rid the town of its infestation of rats.  The town burghers agreed to pay him a sum for doing so.  He began playing a silver flute and lured all the rats to the Weser River into which they plunged and drowned.  The burghers then reneged on the deal.   The piper returned to the town on June 26 and began playing his flute again, this time luring away all the children over the age of 4. 

            Just a fairy tale, you say?  Maybe, or maybe not, especially since an actual date has now been attached to the event.  Manuscripts, paintings, even stained glass windows have been discovered depicting and describing the event as real.  What caused the children to leave?  You will find as many explanations as scholars studying it, and I will leave that to you.  But the part about the rats?  That was not added to the story for 300 years, so it is probably just legend.  Still, rodents are the issue today. 

            We have never had much trouble before now.  Barn cats do an excellent job.  Even after the second in a row went hunting one evening never to return, we had no trouble because a garter snake moved into the enclosed crawl space under the house.
 
             For four or five years that snake minded his own business, which was good for us—we seldom had a mouse in the house, in spite of living deep in the piney woods.  Sometimes we’d see him stretched out in the sunny yard, nearly four feet long thanks to his dark pantry beneath our floors, but we would turn and go the other way to keep the dogs off of him until he had returned home.

             One summer day, he ventured out while Keith was mowing.  He assumed the snake would turn and slither back into the flower beds as he approached.  Just as he passed by, the frightened reptile turned and darted toward the mower.  Keith groaned aloud as he rode right over him, scattering garter snake to the winds.

              The trouble started in the winter, of course.  I began hearing them gnaw on the bottom of the house.  So Keith crawled into that dark, dusty cavern with packets of poison, a flashlight, and a pistol, in case a less benevolent snake had moved in.  In a couple of days the noises stopped, only to start again three or four days later.  The packets of poison were empty.  More crawling, more packets, and once again quiet reigned in the night.  In about two weeks, we seemed to have the problem licked.

              Two months later, when Keith rose at 4:30 am to get ready for work, he found a mouse sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor.  We set out traps this time, as well as poison.  Sometimes I hear one in the middle of the night crunching the poison pellets.  Then we’ll have two or three nights of quiet before the next one arrives.  You see, where we live there is an endless supply of rodents.  Rats and mice will never make the endangered species list.

              Not all endless supplies are bad though.  The grace of God is a good case in point.  Christ told Paul, “My grace is sufficient” (2 Cor 12:9) to help you handle your problems.  It isn’t that you need to get rid of the problem, he told him; it’s that you need to trust that there is enough grace to help you through it.

              Paul told Timothy that God’s grace was “exceeding abundant,” 1 Tim 1:4.  The root word means “to abound,” a word that brings to my mind that Southern phrase “a gracious plenty.”  Yet in this passage Paul attaches an intensifier, huper (from which we get “hyper”). So it means “to abound exceedingly.”  Not just a lot, but a whole lot of a lot.  You simply can’t need more grace than God has to give, no matter how big a sinner you may think you are, nor how often you sin; no matter how big your problems are.  That means he’ll have enough for your neighbor too—you won’t lose out if you share.  Yes, in this case, an endless supply is a very good thing.
 
But not as the trespass, so also the free gift. For if by the trespass of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God, and the gift by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, abound unto the many.  And the law came in besides, that the trespass might abound; but where sin abounded, grace did abound more exceedingly: that, as sin reigned in death, even so might grace reign through righteousness unto eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.  Rom 5:15,20,21.
 
Dene Ward

I went out to water my flowers early one morning, grabbed up the two gallon watering can and headed for the spigot.  The temperature had already risen to the upper 70s, and the humidity had beaten that number by at least twenty.  It dripped off the live oaks, bonking on the metal carport roof as loud as pebbles would have, but I knew that soon the plants would fold their leaves against the heat in a bid to keep as much moisture in them as possible.  A morning drink was a necessity for them to survive the coming afternoon.
 
             I picked up the filled can and began the long trudge to the flower bed.  What was that?  Water was running down the leg that bumped the can as I walked, so I lifted the can and examined it.  A steady stream of water poured out a tiny hole not quite halfway up its side.

              After a moment’s thought, I picked up the pace and made it to the bed in time to pour most of the water on the flowers.  Ordinarily after watering, I keep a full can next to the bed to fill the small bird bath next to it as needed, but that can would no longer hold even half its normal capacity.  So after the watering, I returned to the well tank and filled it only halfway and sat it by the bath.  I would have to fill it twice as often now, but at least I could get a most of a gallon out of it.  Better than nothing.

               We are a lot like that watering can.  We should be filled to the capacity that God intended, but too often we don’t hold even half of it.  Paul tells us we each receive a different gift according to the grace of God, Rom 12:6; Peter tells us to use that gift as a good steward of God’s grace, 1 Pet 4:10.  Holes in the can mean we are not using those gifts as God designed, squandering His grace in the process. 

              Sometimes we deny the grace.  “I can’t do that,” we say, when God has clearly put an opportunity in front of us.  Have you ever given someone a gift and had them tell you that you didn’t?  Of course not.  Everyone knows that the giver knows what he gave, yet here we are being so ridiculous as to tell God He most certainly did not give us any gifts.  God does not put opportunities in front of us that He has not given us the ability to handle.  More than anyone else—even more that we ourselves—He knows what we can and cannot do.  Denying the His grace is simply disobedience.

              Sometimes we cheat the grace.  “I’m too busy,” we tell people when something comes up.  Never mind that the opportunity is squarely within my wheelhouse—if I don’t want to do it, being busy is the excuse of the day.  In fact, sometimes we make ourselves busy with things we prefer in order to avoid more difficult spiritual obligations.  It’s easier to work late one night than go visit a weak brother.  It’s more fun to work out with a peer (“keeping my temple healthy”) than learn how to study with an older Christian who wants to share his hard-earned knowledge.  Shopping must be done, but it is certainly less trouble—and a lot quicker--to go shopping alone than to take an older person who is no longer able to get out on her own.  And thus our busy-ness has kept us from filling ourselves to capacity.

              Sometimes we do our best to spoil the grace by poking the hole in ourselves.  God has a purpose for each one of us.  I can sabotage those plans by my own selfish choices in life.  Worldliness and materialism can diminish my capacity for the spiritual.  Bad habits can ruin a reputation and make me less effective.  Bad decisions can make me unfit for God’s original plan for me.  Even if I turn myself around and repent, I may never again have the same impact I would have if I had made better choices earlier in life.  I may very well have drilled a hole in the can so that it will only hold half or less what God intended it to hold.

              Take a good look at your watering can this morning.  God knows better than you how much it can hold.  Don’t deny the grace; don’t squander the opportunities.  Don’t drill a hole where one doesn’t belong.  Capacity is His business, not yours, and what He wants is an overflowing can.
 
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, 2 Timothy 2:20-21.
 
Dene Ward