I grew up listening to my whole family, especially my uncles, root for the Florida Gators.  It's in the blood, I guess, so I have always rooted for them too, even during losing years, even when once again they handed a win over to their opponents.  But finally, on January 2, 1997, the Gators won their first National Football Championship.  The first is always special, but it also came at the expense of the perennial and hated foe, Florida State.  That made it even sweeter.

              It began as a nail-biter.  We led 24-17 at the half, but they had already beaten us once that year (helped by a slew of uncalled roughing the quarterback plays).  We weren't far into the second half before it was 24-20.  Then Danny, Ike, and Reidel took over the offense, and the defense stood firm.  That was the Seminoles' last score and we finished 52-20.  I enjoyed the second half much more than the first.  In fact, I have developed a bit of a reputation.

           “That was your kind of game!” Lucas texted a few weeks ago when the Gators tromped their opponent by nearly 30 points.  Indeed it was, my favorite kind of game.
 
             The boys have taught me well, not only strategies and terms, but who to root for in football, basketball, and baseball.  The Gators, the Rays, the USF Bulls, the Miami Dolphins, the Buccaneers, sometimes the Jags if they aren’t thoroughly embarrassing themselves, and any SEC team that is not playing Florida at the moment. 

              But if any of those teams are playing, I do not enjoy what most people call “a good game.”  Why would anyone enjoy something that causes heart-burn, heart palpitations, and heart-ache?  I cringe until the score becomes outrageously unbeatable, and then sit back and enjoy the rest.  That’s my kind of game.

              And though it certainly isn’t a game, that’s the way I like my contests with the Devil too.  It ought to be that lopsided a score.  We have a Savior who has already taken care of the hard part.  We are already so far ahead, even before we start, that a comeback by the opponent should be unthinkable.  We have an example how to overcome.  We have help overcoming.  We have a promise that we CAN overcome if we just try.  We have every possible advantage, including coaches and trainers and all-star teammates, and a playbook that is infallible. 

              We have the motivation too.  As we said, this isn’t a game.  There is no next season, and defeat is an unthinkable consequence that should spur us on to adrenalin-boosted, nearly superhuman feats.  And the trophy is far better than anything offered us in this life.  Every athlete exercises self-control in all things.  Now they do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one, 1 Cor 9:25.  That crown is called a “crown of life” in several passages—an eternal life with our Creator. 

              Do not make your game a close one.  Don’t sit back and let the Adversary make a comeback.  Don’t fumble the ball, or commit an error, or make a turnover out of carelessness and apathy.  Victory is not handed to you on a platter.  You still have to want to win, and fight like that every minute.  My kind of game may not appeal to you when you watch your favorite teams play, but it should be the only kind you want when your soul is at stake. 

              We are “more than conquerors” with the help of God (Rom 8:37).  His game plan involves a rout, running up the score, and rubbing the enemy’s nose in defeat.  And it can go exactly that way with just a little effort on your part.
 
For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?"...But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Corinthians 15:53-55, 57
 
Dene Ward

On December 9, 1973 Marshall Efron’s Illustrated Simplified Painless Sunday School began on CBS.  Seeing that little tidbit of information brought back words I hadn’t thought of in years.  “That’s just asking too much.”

             You’d think that I could remember who said that to us one evening while we sat studying the Bible in his home.  You’d think I could remember where he drew the line that kept him from serving the Lord.  It isn’t often you find someone that honest.  Most people offer excuses instead.  They understand that they are telling God they are not willing to sacrifice for him.  In fact, they will usually make a list of everything they have done before adding, “But that’s just asking too much.”  What they fail to see is that if they are willing to give it up, it isn’t a sacrifice.  The sacrifice comes when you don’t want to give it up; the sacrifice comes when it hurts. Serving God is not supposed to be “painless.” 

              Too many of us believe that just because we got up, dressed up, and drove to another location instead of sitting there watching some sort of “Painless Sunday School” on television that we are sacrificing for the Lord.  We will sit in the meetinghouse on Sunday morning.  We will even sit for the full two or three hours, whatever our group has chosen.  Just exactly what have we given up?  Sleep?  Another day of fishing?  A little more yard work?  Doesn’t sound like much of a sacrifice.

              Many will alter their lifestyles a bit.  What have they given up?  Hangovers?  Gambling debts?  STDs?  If you aren’t stupid, that’s another easy sacrifice to make.  It only becomes difficult when the dependency has developed.

              What we steadfastly refuse to give up is ourselves. 

              Can we admit wrong?  Can we yield to others?  Can we toe the line, even when the thing in question affects us individually?  It’s much easier for the non-music lover to give up instrumental music in the worship.  Trust me.  I know.  It’s much easier to abide by the Lord’s words concerning marriage when you have a solid relationship, and when your children have also chosen well.  It’s much easier to serve when you actually like the people you are serving.  Yet ease is the very thing that makes it not much of a sacrifice.  The true sacrifice comes when, instead of twisting scriptures to suit ourselves and frantically searching for loopholes, we do what hurts.

              The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit: A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise, Psalm 51:17.  Pain is what makes a sacrifice sincere.  Humble repentance that involves giving up selfish desires and yielding to others who do not deserve it are the most difficult sacrifices to give, and therefore, the ones that God wants most to see in us.  Until we manage that, anything else we do in service to God is a sham, no matter how beautifully we sing, how generously we donate, or how knowledgeably we teach.

              When Jeroboam became king of the northern 10 tribes of Israel, in spite of God’s promise to him of a lasting dynasty if he only obeyed, he looked at those fickle people and said, “I know exactly how to keep them here.”  He made it easy to serve God.

              And Jeroboam said in his heart, Now will the kingdom return to the house of David: if this people go up to offer sacrifices in the house of Jehovah at Jerusalem, then will the heart of this people turn again unto their lord, even unto Rehoboam king of Judah; and they will kill me, and return to Rehoboam king of Judah. Whereupon the king took counsel, and made two calves of gold; and he said unto them, It is too much for you to go up to Jerusalem: behold your gods, O Israel, which brought you up out of the land of Egypt. 1 Kings 12:26-28.

              “It’s asking too much,” he told them.  “Let me make it easy for you.”  And just like that, the people in the north left the God who had delivered them from slavery, defeated their enemies, and provided all their needs. 

              What is it that Jeroboam would offer you?

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ, Philippians 3:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

The Environmental Protection Agency was established on December 2, 1970, at the call of President Richard Nixon to seriously address, at a Federal level, the problems arising from factory pollutants, automobile emissions, overuse of pesticides, dangerous practices in waste disposal, and oil spills.  Most of us have benefited from its oversight in areas of which we are not even aware.  But occasionally, they do seem to get a little unreasonable, in the same ways as anyone who tries to make rules in places they have never been and do not understand.

            Campgrounds, for example, have a lot of aggravating rules.  Some of them are just plain ridiculous, obviously made by people who sit behind a desk and have never camped in their lives.  Yet, I understand the problem.  Too many thoughtless people have no concept of picking up after themselves while being careful where they dump things. 

              Most state parks have a place to dump “gray water.”  We aren’t talking about raw sewage.  Gray water, as defined, includes the dishpan of water you washed your dishes in.  Ever carry a couple gallons of water 500 yards in an awkward dishpan you must hold out in front of you, trying not to slosh it all over yourself in the cold?  Nearly impossible.  And who, living in the country, doesn’t know that wash water works wonders on the blueberries and flower beds?  At least the last park we stayed at had dispensed with the gray water rule.

              I think some of these things bother me because, as country people, we are always green.  We are careful what gets dumped where, even if it means having to load it up and cart it off to the landfill ourselves; you don’t want your groundwater polluted, especially uphill from the well.  We rotate crops.  We even rotate garden spots. We use twigs to dissuade cutworms rather than plastic rings or metal nails. We mulch with the leaves from our live oaks, which we then turn under to enrich the ground after the garden is spent.  We dump the ashes from the woodstove into the fallow garden.  I am sure Keith could add even more to this list.

              God expects his people to be “green.”  Good stewardship of his gifts has always been his expectation, from our abilities to the gospel itself.  You can even find sewage disposal rules in the Law.  Cruelty to animals was punished under the Old Covenant.  That same principle of stewardship follows into the New.

              At the same time, God said, “Have dominion over [the earth] and subdue [the animals],” Gen 1:28.  He said to eat of the plants and the animals, 1:29; 9:3.  God meant this to be a place we used for our survival, not a zoological and botanical garden where nothing can be touched.  When we carefully use the resources of the earth, it will continue to furnish us with the things we need.  So we eat sustainable seafood.  We hunt in season, and eat the meat we bring home.  We raise and eat animals fed with garden refuse.  We carefully sow and reap so the ground will continue to be arable.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with any of that.

              Sometimes, though, the people who claim to be green are no longer flesh-colored (in all its assorted hues).  They care more for animals than people.  I know that is true when I see a “Save the Whales” bumper sticker on the same car touting “The Right to Choose.”  Let’s save the animals, but the babies are fair game.

              Shades of Romans 1--Paul speaks of the Gentiles who had rejected Jehovah throughout the ancient days and eventually arrived at the point that they “worshipped and served the creature rather than the Creator” 1:25.  Our culture has come dangerously close to that.  The environment has become the cause du jour, and while I certainly agree that we should care for the beautiful home God gave us and not be cruel to animals, it is because I am grateful to the God who made them for me, not because I have less regard for humans.  I have always been that way, not just recently, yet I still know that people are more important than sea turtles, and unborn children more so than polar bears.

              So let’s be green, just as God has always expected—but let’s be flesh-colored too, caring about the people, and their souls even more than the animals.  And let us also be as white as snow—an obedient people who worship and serve the God who created it all.
 
From your lofty abode you water the mountains; the earth is satisfied with the fruit of your work. You cause the grass to grow for the livestock and plants for man to cultivate, that he may bring forth food from the earth.  The trees of the LORD are watered abundantly, the cedars of Lebanon that he planted. In them the birds build their nests; the stork has her home in the fir trees. The high mountains are for the wild goats; the rocks are a refuge for the rock badgers. The young lions roar for their prey, seeking their food from God. When the sun rises, they steal away and lie down in their dens. Man goes out to his work and to his labor until the evening. O LORD, how manifold are your works! In wisdom have you made them all; the earth is full of your creatures. May the glory of the LORD endure forever; may the LORD rejoice in his works, Psa 104:13,14,16-18,21-24,31.
 
Dene Ward
 

In November, 1919, President Woodrow Wilson declared that November 11 should be designated "Armistice Day" to commemorate the end of World War I on the same date the year before..  In 1954, veterans' organizations lobbied their congressmen to change the name to Veterans Day to honor the veterans who served after that event, particularly World War II and the Korean War.  In 1968, the Federal Government passed legislation to observe all legal holidays on Mondays, so as to create three-day weekends and encourage travel and recreation to boost the economy.  Veterans Day completely lost its historical significance as it was moved annually to the second Monday of November.
In 1978 President Gerald Ford moved Veterans' Day back to its original date, deeming history and patriotism more important than dollars and cents.  So on November 11, 1978, Veterans Day was once again, and ever since, observed on the eleventh day of November to honor all who have served their country in the military, and at that time we had even more wars to add, most notably the Vietnam War.

              The way those particular veterans were greeted when they came home from that horror is a shame to our country.  They did not start that war; they were just pawns on a larger political chessboard.  The ones who spat on them and called them names were, by and large, a younger group who had never fought in a war, never experienced any sort of economic deprivation, but rather, had their lives handed to them on a silver platter. 

              I live in Florida, where a great many retirees, many of whom are veterans, finish their lives.  They are regularly the brunt of jokes and disrespect from a generation that may never know the trials that group went through, solely because those people went through those trials.  Funny how time can wreak such havoc with attitudes isn’t it?

              Unfortunately, I have seen the same thing happen in the Lord’s body.  A younger generation sneers at an older one because it is older, because it doesn’t understand that society is a bit different, and what was once expedient no longer is.  Yet that older generation is the one who saw the problems in the work force during the 40s, a war machine grinding out supplies at a pace unheard of before.  They were the ones who saw the need for a Sunday evening service so that those Christians who were working shifts would not be left out of the group activities, so they too could experience the encouragement that comes from praising and thanking God together. 

              You know what?  When they came up with that idea, it was new, it was different--it broke all the traditions.  Don’t sit there on your high horse and accuse them of not being able to change with the times.

              That is why those things are so hard for them to give up.  Yes, for some there may be an attitude problem, perhaps a willfulness or stubbornness that should be dealt with, but I would suggest that is not the case for most.  Just because someone has a difficult time seeing the need for an expedient change, does not mean he is a Pharisee, which seems to be the accusation du jour.  Too many times we act towards them with a disrespectful scorn and impatience, while at the same time being happy to stand on those same tired, hunched shoulders, shoulders that bore the burden of fighting the battles that have kept the church sound and faithful to the Lord.  Where would we be now without them? 

              All younger generations need to be careful.  Trying to withhold respect and honor and cloaking it as righteousness is simply another facet to the same Phariseeism you claim to abhor (Mark 7:8-13).  Our Lord would not like it now any more than he did two thousand years ago.

              So please, be a little more careful how you speak to and about the old warriors.  Be understanding of the feelings they must have, seeing their world change perhaps more than any other generation before.  Be grateful to them for what they have been through and the battles they have fought.  One of these days, another generation will come along and look at you and the things you don’t want to change.  What kind of example will you have left them?
 
You shall stand before the gray head and honor the face of the old man, and you shall fear your God.   I AM Jehovah, Lev 19:32. 
 
Dene Ward

Andrew Jackson Dowling was born on October 31, 1815.  Although he had many interests, including horticulture and landscape design, he is also known for his designs in Gothic Revival Architecture, which first introduced American architects to the importance and necessity of a front porch.  Porches had been in existence for millennia in the forms of porticos, verandas, piazzas, and loggias, but they had never been "in demand", especially among the wealthy, and never among Northerners, until the work of Dowling.  He made the "sitting porch" popular, usually an integral part of the architecture on the front of the house, ornately decorated with framer, posts, rails, lattices, brackets and aprons.

               Both of my grandmothers had front porches, but nothing as elaborate as all that.  I remember visiting them when I was a child, sometimes just a day, sometimes a weekend, and once or twice a whole week after we moved a distance away.  It was usually summer and neither of them had air conditioners, and though I know it was as hot as it is nowadays, I don’t remember it.  I sat on their front porches much of the day, the swing making its own breeze as I dangled my bare feet over the cool, smooth, gray-painted plank floor.

            One porch was out in the country next to a grove of oranges and kumquats with horses grazing in the pasture behind it.  The other was in the middle of town, its steps fronting on Main Street, and we would watch people go by as we hid in the cool shade behind a morning glory vine growing up and across the porch posts and over the roof.

             My grandmothers never tired of talking to me, answering every question I asked, telling stories of “the olden days” that fascinated me because they seemed so foreign to my life.  I couldn’t imagine a house with no electricity and no running water.  I couldn’t imagine life with no television set droning on in the background. 

              I enjoyed those times with my parents too, their stories of playing without real toys, Christmases that brought an orange and some nuts and maybe a little hard candy in a stocking, and washing clothes with a wringer washer.  I remember my mother telling about her grandmother, a woman who rose before light to make a breakfast of pork chops, eggs, grits, gravy, and biscuits every morning while the men were out doing the first chores, a meal filling enough to last them through a day of hard farm work in southern Georgia. 

              My own boys liked to ask about our childhoods while we sat shucking corn every summer.  Silking was their job, tedious work that invited a lot of talking and listening just to keep yourself going until it was done.   Their dad grew up on the side of a hill in the Ozarks in an old stone house without running water, only bare light bulbs in each room, and a bucket of drinking water in the kitchen on which his mother would sometimes have to break a layer of ice on a cold winter morning.  He could tell stories about milking cows before school at the age of 6, a small school where two grades sat in each class, about pushing his bed up against the chimney in the unfinished attic to stay warm, and taking baths on the back porch in the summer.

              Sharing these things is important.  This is the way one generation connects to the next.  Knowing where we came from answers many of the natural longings we all have, and helps us to find meaning in our lives.  I worry about the children now, who scarcely have any time with their parents at all, much less enough time for stories about their pasts and the questions that should instantly follow.  It also leads to questions and stories about more  important things, and makes them far more willing to listen to you when it
counts.

              God has always expected his people to make time to talk to their children.

              And when in time to come your son asks you, 'What does this mean?' you shall say to him, 'By a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt, from the house of slavery. For when Pharaoh stubbornly refused to let us go, the LORD killed all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, both the firstborn of man and the firstborn of animals. Therefore I sacrifice to the LORD all the males that first open the womb, but all the firstborn of my sons I redeem.' It shall be as a mark on your hand or frontlets between your eyes, for by a strong hand the LORD brought us out of Egypt." Ex 13:14-16.

              And Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, 'What do those stones mean to you?' then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever." Josh 4:5-7.

              When your son asks you in time to come, 'What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the LORD our God has commanded you?' then you shall say to your son, 'We were Pharaoh's slaves in Egypt. And the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. Deut 6:20-21.

              What happens when a generation arises that doesn’t know these things? And also all that generation were gathered unto their fathers: and there arose another generation after them, that knew not Jehovah, nor yet the work which he had wrought for Israel. And the children of Israel did that which was evil in the sight of Jehovah, Judg 2:10,11.

              That’s why this is so important.  Talk to your children today, or your grandchildren, or even your neighbor’s children.  Make a connection to them that will bring them closer to you and through that, closer to God.  If you think you don’t have the time, then give something up.  Providing them a physical inheritance isn’t nearly as important as providing them a spiritual one.

              Find yourself a “front porch” and make use of it before it’s too late.
 
Telling to the generation to come the praises of Jehovah, And his strength, and his wondrous works that he has done. That the generation to come might know, even the children that should be born; Who should arise and tell it to their children, That they might set their hope in God, And not forget the works of God, But keep his commandments, Psalm 78:4,6,7.
 
Dene Ward

Pearl Reid Skirvin was born on October 12, 1889.  The daughter of an Oklahoma City real estate tycoon, she never knew anything but high society.  She married George Mesta, a Pittsburgh machine tool magnate, and was widowed after only 8 years.  She never remarried, never had children, and became heir to both her father’s and husband’s fortunes.  Somewhere along the way she changed the spelling of her first name and became Perle Mesta, an influential hostess and political fundraiser in Washington DC.  And somewhere else along the way, she was labeled “the hostess with the mostes’.”  As a young child I had heard of her myself, but her glamorous parties were things far beyond my family’s imagination, much less actual attendance.

              I remember my first attempts to be a hostess.  I had watched my mother feed guests for 20 years.  She seemed to do it effortlessly, not that she didn’t work at it, but it never seemed to stress her out.  Me?  I was always worried that my recipes wouldn’t turn out, that I had chosen something no one liked, and that the house wasn’t clean enough. 

              For several years I kept a file with an index card for each family we had invited for a meal.  I listed the dates they came, what I had served, and at the top a list of things I knew were disliked.  Roger Pink hated liver, I remember—not that I would ever serve specially invited guests liver, but you can see how concerned I was with being a good hostess.  These days you get pot luck, and I don’t worry so much any more.

              Being a good host or hostess had almost sacred connotations in the scriptures.  Inns were few and far between.  Everyone depended upon the people they encountered in their travels to put them up, and those people knew they would someday have similar need, so they readily offered the hospitality.  You cannot read Genesis without seeing the importance of hospitality—a host laid down his life for his guests.

              So the metaphor in Proverbs 9 was an apt one for the times.  Two hostesses seeking guests, one named Wisdom and the other Folly.  A quick reading will only obscure some of the finer points.  This is too short a venue to touch them all, so sit down some time with a pen and paper and make two columns.  Go through the verses yourself and find the contrasts between the hostesses, their offers, and the guests who take advantage of the proffered hospitality.  Then figure out which side you are on. 

              But three quick points: Wisdom offers a great feast—“she has slaughtered her beasts; she has mixed her wine,” v 2.  Folly offers only bread and water, v 17, but notice how enticing she makes it sound:  Stolen water is sweet and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.  Not only is her meal scanty, it’s forbidden.  If the only reason I want to do something is because someone else told me not to, the proverb writer says I “lack sense,” v16, as do all of Folly’s guests.

              Wisdom offers her feast to all, but specifically to “those who lack understanding” and are wise enough to realize their need.  Folly offers hers to those who are “going straight on their way,” v 15.  They already think they know what they need to know.  They may indeed be simpleminded, v 16, but they don’t realize it.  Going to someone to ask for advice is beneath them, unless of course it’s someone who will tell them what they want to hear. 

              Wisdom tells her guests that they must break off from bad company, v 7-8.  Folly, on the other hand, loads her guest list with the worst company of all, and bids the fool to come join them, but he does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol, v 18.

              You won’t find a more chilling metaphor, but if you insist on ignoring good advice, trusting in those who scorn the word of God, and whooping it up with the Devil, you will find yourself exactly where Folly holds her parties, consorting with the spiritually dead, and killing your own soul in the process.
 
Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted, while evil people and impostors will go on from bad to worse, deceiving and being deceived, 2 Timothy 3:12-13.
 
Dene Ward

Henry J Heinz was born on October 11, 1844 in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  In 1850 the family moved to Sharpsburg, and before long, little Henry was showing his business acumen by selling vegetables from the family garden.  His customers included area grocers.
 
             As a teenager he began preparing and bottling horseradish.  But here again, his business sense helped him out.  He put his horseradish in clear bottles while every other producer used dark brown.  He wanted customers to see the quality of his product.  Before long he had branched out into pickles, vinegars and the like.

              In 1875, a national financial panic pushed him into bankruptcy.  But he was not about to give up.  Two of his cousins formed a new company, F and J Heinz, and they introduced ketchup to the product line in 1876.  By 1888, Henry had discharged his bankruptcy obligations and took charge of the company.  It was his again, and so was that famous ketchup.  It's the brand we use exclusively.

            At the end of every gardening year I always end up with extra plum tomatoes and nothing to do with them.  My pantry is full of canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, and even tomato jam.  So what else is there?  Now that I have a grandson who is a manic dipper of anything he can pick up in his chubby little fingers, I had a sudden epiphany.  “Ketchup!” I said to myself.  “Make the boy some ketchup.”
 
             So I found an easy recipe—not a quick one by any means, but once you get past the initial chopping and measuring stage, all you do is stir once in awhile for a couple of hours. 

              I did not want to put a lot of energy into something I had never tried, so I made a small batch.  I filled a five quart Dutch oven halfway with chopped plum tomatoes, onions and peppers, sugar, vinegar, and spices, and put them on to cook.  About two and a half hours later I poured up one generous cup of ketchup.  It was definitely the best ketchup I had ever tasted, and plenty for Keith and I who take a year to go through a 32 oz bottle, but it was not going to do for a ketchup fanatic, and it certainly wasn’t worth the work.  Now that I know the recipe is good, though, I will fill two of those pots to the brim and in about the same amount of time have something a little more worthwhile.

              And that is our problem when it comes to converting the world.  We only fill one pot half full and then wonder why we got such a small return.  Then we become discouraged, or worse, decide that God’s way doesn’t work any more and then we really get into trouble, going places and doing things we have no authority for, denigrating God in the process.

              We see the 3000 baptized on Pentecost and say, what’s wrong?  Why can’t we do that?  Let’s do a little math.  Most scholars estimate the population of Jerusalem during a feast day at 1 million or more.  Three thousand out of one million is not that much.  In fact, it’s the same as 300 out of 100,000, or 30 out of 10,000 or 3 out of 1000.  That’s less than one third of one percent, or, to be silly about it, it’s a short one-third of a person for every hundred. 

              Stop being so negative.  Stop allowing sheer numbers without perspective to discourage you.  This is a Biblical principle.  The road is narrow.  Only a few will find it.  We just have to make sure that their inability to find it wasn’t our fault.  And we have to remember above all, that it isn’t God’s fault either.  It is not the fault of His methods.  It is not the fault of His plan.   We certainly cannot improve on the ways of the Almighty.  What we can do is implement them.        

                Fill as many pots as you have with tomatoes.  If you want a 3000 day, then cook a million.  Most of us can’t do that, but we can cook a hundred in a lifetime surely.  And if all you get is one cup of ketchup, that’s wonderful.  In fact, it’s better than Pentecost.  You did not fail by any means.  You did your part, and, even better, you did it God’s way.
 
For seeing that in the wisdom of God the world through its wisdom knew not God, it was God's good pleasure through the foolishness of the preaching to save them that believe. Seeing that Jews ask for signs, and Greeks seek after wisdom: but we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumblingblock, and unto Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men; and the weakness of God is stronger than men. 1 Corinthians 1:21-25
 
Dene Ward
 

I barely remember it.  It wasn't all that exciting so a toddler would hardly have sat down and watched it.  The humor was sometimes wry and certainly not slapstick or as in-your-face as today's.  Three couples competed in a series of questions.  They were always interesting couples, I am told, with different areas of expertise.  The emcee told them the category and the husband decided—before hearing the question itself—whether he would answer or his wife.  Thus the name of the show, "Who Do You Trust?"
              The original show debuted on January 3, 1956 with Edgar Bergen as host.  It lasted barely a year.  Then on September 30, 1957 the producers brought it back with Johnny Carson as host.  Johnny's career was lagging seriously at the time, but the show and the way he handled it, spending more time on the interviews than the actual questions and keeping the live audience entertained, kept it on the air for another 6 years, until Jack Paar retired and the Tonight Show came calling.  The rest, as they say, is history.
               Salvation is certainly not a game show.  The prizes at stake are far more than the $25, $50, and $75 for three questions.  But the question of "Who do you trust?" is still relevant.
              I grew up in a time when we were regularly told from pulpits all over the country that we should never say that we knew we were saved, we certainly shouldn't talk about Heaven as something we had a real expectation of.  "You can lose it any time," was the doctrine we were taught, and while that is certainly true, we were taught it so constantly and vigorously that we spent our lives looking over our shoulders wondering when death would strike, hoping we would have enough warning to throw up a quick prayer for forgiveness.  Otherwise, we were sure, all was lost—especially us.
              And what has this done?  It has created a generation without hope, one that lives in constant fear, one that doesn't trust God to save them.  We have done a fine job of aiding Satan in discouraging the saved to the point that they are indeed no longer saved.  They were told it was impossible and they believed it, and so they quit trying.  Or if, somehow, they are still out their knocking themselves out trying, uttering prayers for forgiveness every hour or so, their lives are not full of joy, they are full of insecurity and foreboding, afraid they might come across as arrogant enough to actually believe they have a chance.
              Would a God of love want us to live that way?  What do you think he feels when we talk about him like he is up there watching, just waiting to say, "Aha!  Gotcha!" and then zap us when we aren't looking?  I would be insulted if my children thought I would do that to them!  Why do we think it is "reverent" to think that of God?
              We have completely forgotten grace.  Grace is not only about your initial salvation.  Grace is there all your life.  God never expected any of us to know all the facts, understand all the doctrines, and have all our character flaws worked out the moment we were baptized.  We keep working on those things, sometimes struggling harder at one thing than another, looking at ourselves honestly and learning as much as we can about God and His Word, repenting when we find it necessary, and grace covers what we haven't yet reached.  God said he would do that.  He said he loves us and wants us to go to Heaven.  He gave up his Son so that could happen?  Don't you trust God?
              …for they cried out to God in the battle, and he granted their urgent plea because they trusted in him. (1Chr 5:20)  Won't God answer your plea to cover your errors if you trust him?  If you don't believe that, then you don't trust him.
              When we don't trust God's grace, just what is it we really trust?  Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. (Ps 20:7)  The chariots we trust in are works.  We keep thinking we have to be perfect and we must get that way now!  Nonsense.  Look how Jesus carefully brought Peter along.  Look how God dealt with Gideon as he gradually built his courage and faith.  He does that for all of us.
              But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, “You are my God.” (Ps 31:14)  Trusting God is a requirement for being his child.  No trust means no relationship with the Father.
              And here is the bottom line:  Therefore, when the LORD heard, he was full of wrath; a fire was kindled against Jacob; his anger rose against Israel, because they did not believe in God and did not trust his saving power. (Ps 78:21-22)
              When we don't trust in God's grace, we are trusting a doctrine of the Devil, a doctrine he puts out there through his own ministers to destroy our faith, our spirit, and our relationship with God.  Don't let anyone steal your trust in God and his power to save even the vilest sinner—even you.
              "Who Do You Trust" is not a game show—it is your life.
 
 I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God that you may know that you have eternal life. (1John 5:13)

Have you fallen prey to it yet?  You post something on Facebook and then sit back and wait.  You check it every five minutes at first, then maybe stretch it out a bit, and before you know it, you have sat there for an hour or two and what have you been doing?  Waiting to see if someone “likes” you.  Yes, the quest for popularity affects the masses, and many make use of that pathetic craving of ours. 

              Political pundits say that the first really obvious affect of popularity was the Kennedy-Nixon debates.  On September 26, 1960, Senator John F. Kennedy and Vice-President Richard M. Nixon participated in the first televised presidential debates in American history.  Suddenly election strategy changed.  A carefully manufactured public image and media exposure became essentials for every candidate. 

              Kennedy had only a single and unexceptional term as a Senator on his resume.  Nixon had eight years as vice-president, following a career in the Senate in which his domestic and foreign experience trumped anything Kennedy had.  He was a great opponent of Communism in a time when that really mattered, and even helped uncover the alleged traitor Alger Hiss.  By the summer of 1960, Nixon had gained a lead in the polls.  Then he landed in the hospital with an infection in August and came out pale and 20 pounds underweight.  And so on debate day, a young, bronzed Kennedy confronted a gray Nixon, who was still running a low fever from the tag end of the flu as well.  He had just come off an exhausting campaign trail while Kennedy holed up in the hotel the whole weekend resting.

              After the first of four debates, the pundits scored their politics even, or Nixon slightly ahead.  On Election Day, though, Kennedy won and exit polls showed that politics is not what won the election.  Kennedy was more telegenic.  Over half the voters said the two disparate images during the debate had influenced their vote.  Historians say this was the first time popularity struck a blow in politics.   They are wrong about that.

              After this Absalom got himself a chariot and horses, and fifty men to run before him. And Absalom used to rise early and stand beside the way of the gate. And when any man had a dispute to come before the king for judgment, Absalom would call to him and say, “From what city are you?” And when he said, “Your servant is of such and such a tribe in Israel,” Absalom would say to him, “See, your claims are good and right, but there is no man designated by the king to hear you.” Then Absalom would say, “Oh that I were judge in the land! Then every man with a dispute or cause might come to me, and I would give him justice.” And whenever a man came near to pay homage to him, he would put out his hand and take hold of him and kiss him. Thus Absalom did to all of Israel who came to the king for judgment. So Absalom stole the hearts of the men of Israel, 2 Sam 15:1-6.

              Absalom made everyone feel “liked” and that “stole their hearts.”  But Absalom wasn’t even the first.  In Judges 9:3 the people of Israel had “hearts inclined to follow Abimelech.”  Both of these men were wrong for God’s people and were eventually killed, but that didn’t stop the people from falling prey to what was “popular.”

              Do you think that hasn’t happened to you?  Why do you wear what you wear?  Why do you watch the television shows you watch?  Why do you go to the restaurants you do?  Whatever is popular at the time steals our hearts because we think that by doing the popular thing we will become popular.  The problem comes when that affects us spiritually.  If I am wearing clothing I shouldn’t because everyone else is, I need a stronger character.  If I am watching inappropriate entertainment, I need to remember who I claim to follow. 

              The people of Israel were taken in by what was popular over and over again.  Ezekiel tells us “their hearts went after their idols” and “covetousness,” 20:16; 33:31.  Jeremiah talks about them “going after the imagination of their hearts,” 9:14; 13:10.  And why did they do those things?  Not only because they were the popular things to do, but because falling in with the crowd made them popular too.  Simply put, you can’t be different and popular in the world at the same time.

              What is your heart going after?  If it’s popularity and wanting to be “liked,” then you are prey to popular evils just like 99% of the rest of the world.  God calls us to be different.  A Christian doesn’t need to be “liked” on Facebook or anywhere else as long as God “likes” him.
 
For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ, Gal 1:10.
 
Dene Ward

Charles Edward Coughlin was one of the first to broadcast religious programming over the radio, beginning in 1925.  He eventually had up to thirty million listeners in the 1930s.  He was a Roman Catholic priest, but his programs were more about politics than religion.  He began with a series of attacks on socialism and Soviet communism and moved on to American capitalism.  He even helped found a political party—the Union Party.  Finally, due to some not-so-latent anti-Semitism, he was forced off the air, announcing it in his final program on September 23, 1939.

              Others have stuck with religion and fared much better, Vernon McGee, Oral Roberts, and Billy Graham among them.  Many went on to television, but for a couple of generations, a lot of folks got their weekly dose of religion from the hump-backed radio they carefully tuned in amid high-pitched whistles and static.

         When I was young, radio evangelists were fond of ending their broadcasts with the directive to “put your hand on the radio and just believe.”  That was supposed to instantly transform the person who did nothing but sit in his recliner with a cup of coffee (or a can of beer?) into a Christian, a true believer, a person of “faith.” 
 
              Most mainstream denominational theologians believe in this doctrine of “mental assent.”  Faith is nothing more than believing, no action required.  Surely that must be one of those things spawned by the itching ears of listeners who wanted nothing required of them.  Just look at a few scriptures with me.

              For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision counts for anything, but only faith working through love. Galatians 5:6.  What was that?  “Faith working…?”  Faith isn’t supposed to “work,” or so everyone says.  Did you know that Greek word is energeo?  Can you see it?  That’s the word we get “energy” and “energetic” from.  I don’t remember seeing too many energetic people sitting in their recliners.

              Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, Philippians 1:27.  Striving for the faith?  Even in English “striving” implies effort.  In fact, the Greek word is sunathleo.  Ask any “athlete” if mental assent will help him win a gold medal or a Super Bowl ring and you’ll hear him laughing a mile away.

              Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all, Philippians 2:17, ESV.  Now that can’t be right.  Everyone knows faith has nothing to do with outward observances of the law like sacrifices.  Well, how about this translation?  The ASV says “service of faith.”  Anyway you look at it, whether sacrifice or service, it requires some sort of action on our parts.

              Fight the good fight of faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and about which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses,1 Timothy 6:12.  Faith is a “fight.”  That Greek word is agon from which we get our word “agony.”  If you are a crossword puzzler, you know that an agon was a public fight in the Roman arena.  Anyone who did nothing but sit there, with or without a recliner, didn’t last long.

              To this end we always pray for you, that our God may make you worthy of his calling and may fulfill every resolve for good and every work of faith by his power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus may be glorified in you, and you in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Thessalonians 1:11-12.  And there you have it in black and white:  “work of faith.” 

              Nope, some say, the trouble is you keep quoting these men.  Jesus never said any such thing.  Jesus answered them, This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent, John 6:29.  If faith itself is a work, how can we divorce the works it does from it? 

              We do have examples of mental assent in the scriptures, three that I could find easily. 

              You believe that God is one; you do well: the demons also believe, and shudder. James 2:19

              But certain also of the strolling Jews, exorcists, took upon them to name over them that had the evil spirits the name of the Lord Jesus, saying, I adjure you by Jesus whom Paul preaches. And there were seven sons of one Sceva, a Jew, a chief priest, who did this. And the evil spirit answered and said unto them, Jesus I know, and Paul I know, but who are you? Acts 19:13-15

              Those first two examples are powerful.  The devil and his minions believe in the existence of God and the deity of Jesus.  In fact, they know those things for a fact.  They even, please notice, recognize Paul as one of the Lord’s ministers.  So much for not paying attention to his or any other apostle’s writings.  Then there is this one:

              Nevertheless, many even of the authorities believed in him, but for fear of the Pharisees they did not confess it, so that they would not be put out of the synagogue; John 12:42.  Those men believed too.  They would have been thrilled to know they could put their hands on something in the privacy of their homes and “just believe.”  They could have had their cake and eaten it too—become followers without actually following.

              And therein lies the crux of the matter.  It’s easy to sit in your recliner and listen.  It’s too hard to work, to strive, to sacrifice and serve, and way too hard to fight until you experience the agony of rejection, tribulation, and persecution.

              Guess what?  Some of us believe this too.  We just substitute the pew for the recliner.  It doesn’t work that way either.  God wants us up and on our feet, working, serving, sacrificing and fighting till the end, whenever and however that may happen.
 
Examine yourselves, to see whether you are in the faith. Test yourselves. Or do you not realize this about yourselves, that Jesus Christ is in you?--unless indeed you fail to meet the test! 2 Corinthians 13:5
 
Dene Ward