I thought about it a few years ago when a younger generation began talking about how hurtful it was when someone disagreed with them or told them they were wrong, and people actually took it seriously, as if it were a wound as bad as a bloody, gaping gunshot wound.  All of a sudden they needed counseling to get over the ordeal of being disagreed with. In fact, it was no longer considered politically correct to disagree with anyone.  Suddenly, a job evaluation, a common way to determine whether someone deserved a raise or even perhaps, should be let go for not doing the work they were hired to do, was a grave injustice and should be discontinued.  I said then, "Someday this will infect the church and correction will become a dirty word among us.  It will be impossible to 'reprove, rebuke, and exhort' as the New Testament teaches that we should, and might even get the church sued.  Well, it seems to be happening almost as I predicted.
     First, this is not about sexual abuse in the context of the church, usually by church leaders of some stripe.  That is a case where the perpetrator deserves prison and the victim deserves all the counseling s/he needs and the love and acceptance of the group where it happened.  Who knows how many others might be saved if we quit closing our eyes to things that most certainly do exist whether we want to believe it or not?  No, this is not about that. 
     I have experienced all sorts of hurt in my life, hurt perpetrated by Christians.  As a preacher's family we were lied about, slandered, gossiped about to the point that a close friend who lived 150 miles away called to ask what was going on.  That's how far it had spread.  We have received death threats that wound up with an FBI agent standing at our front door.  Once, a group of elders was so angry that the church was growing under Keith's tutelage and everyone loved him and our family that they threw us out during the holidays.  We found a new place, but we were within two days of becoming homeless.  So, yes, I understand how it feels when the people who are supposed to be closer than family and support you through thick and thin betray you.  I know countless preachers and elders and their wives, as well as Bible class teachers who have been through the same thing.  It did not make us special.  Even the apostle Paul dealt with "false brethren" (2 Cor 11:26). 
     But none of that gives any of us the right to denigrate the body of Christ for which he died; the body of Christ that is part of God's plan since before the world was made (Eph 3:10,11).  Just think for a minute if the apostles had reacted as some do.  One of their very own not only stole from them but put them in a dangerous position when he betrayed the Lord.  Why do you think Peter so suddenly denied being one of Jesus' followers?  Surely it crossed his mind that they were now all in danger and he could be standing up there next to Jesus during the trial, scourging, and ultimate crucifixion if he did anything else.  Think for a minute how Jesus' murder affected them all—Peter saying, "I'm going fishing," as if it were time to get back to normal, and the hopelessness of those on the road to Emmaus,  ("we had thought").  Think how all of those women felt who stood there looking at the gruesome bleeding wounds and watching him take his last breath?  Don't you think these people were traumatized?
      How do you think people felt when they actually watched Ananias and Sapphira fall over dead?  When it says "great fear" came on the church, it certainly wasn't mere reverence.  How did it feel to the non-Palestinian Jews whose widows were completely left out of the serving, good women, older women who could have starved because they left all meaning to return but never got to after Pentecost?  Wouldn't that have cut to the heart?  Sometimes I wonder about us and the generation we have raised who cannot stand to be disciplined or simply disagreed with because it just hurts so much that I can no longer function as the Lord expects me to.  What?!
     How did Paul handle his hurt?  Not by spreading it everywhere, telling everyone about the horrible people he had to deal with.  Paul understood that the mission God has given us is far more important than our feelings.  To place ourselves above that mission is nothing more than pride and self-centeredness.  The way to get past these things is not to malign God's plan—which is what you are doing whether you want to believe it or not—but to press on with the work He has given us.  If I am busy in the kingdom, how will I have time to mope about people trying to help me improve myself?  Even if they do it in a ham-handed fashion, at least they care enough to try.  If the method is particularly strong, perhaps we need to take a really good look at ourselves and figure out why they did it that way.  More than once I have found myself recognizing a need for change because someone cared enough to say something about it.
     God's organization is perfect.  Unfortunately, it is filled with flawed people.  I dare anyone to find any organization that is filled with perfect people.  It simply doesn’t exist.  The Lord's body is the closest group you will get.  The best friends I have are every one of them Christians.  The best people in the world are in Christ's church.  As I said, we have had some hard and hurtful things in our lives, but we are careful what we say about them—you notice I have not mentioned any names or places here--and we never mention them to people we are trying to convert to the Lord.  My feelings are never more important than I a soul I am trying to save.
 
This is why I endure all things for the elect: so that they also may obtain salvation, which is in Christ Jesus, with eternal glory (2Tim 2:10).

Oh, so many years ago we moved up to the frozen tundra.  At least that’s what north central Illinois felt like to this Florida native.  Keith worked with a small church there and I experienced blizzards, snowmen, and sledding for the first time in my life.  I also experienced a grudge-holder to end all grudge-holders. 
            An older fellow, a corn and soybean farmer, invited us to visit and before we had time to warm the seats of the chairs in his white two story farmhouse, he proceeded to give us some “important information.”  Another family in the church, he proclaimed, was not the faithful, unselfish, godly family they claimed to be.  Then one by one he listed all the “wrongs” they had done him, most of which amounted to being more prosperous than he.  They surely must have sinned to get that way!
            Keith was older and more experienced than I.  He saw through the “helpful” manner this man had adopted, and before his list was complete, Keith had asked a few probing questions that left him flummoxed.  Somehow this was not going the way he expected it would.  When we left that day, he had not accomplished his mission at all, which is entirely as it should have been.  When someone comes running to pour garbage on you, step aside as quickly as possible.  The truth will out, and before long the fruits we saw in both families made apparent who was and was not “faithful.”
            If I had just finished the faith study I had written back then, it would have been obvious to even me.  After all that research, the huge lists of passages I had, and the categories I eventually sorted them into, I found several mentioning circumstances that require “extra” faith to handle.  One of them made me laugh out loud at first, then it made me sit back and say, “Well, of course.”
            In Luke 17, Peter, somewhat proudly, asked the Lord if forgiving someone seven times wasn’t a “gracious” plenty.  No, Jesus tells him.  Not seven times, but seventy times seven.  I am positive Peter got the point—there should be no end to forgiving others; there must be no “last straw”--because he immediately exclaimed, “Lord!  Increase our faith!”  He understood that a failure to forgive is a sign of weak faith.
            I have puzzled over how those two things are connected for quite awhile now.  Finally I see two possibilities. 
            First, God says He will avenge me; I don’t have to worry about doing it myself.  Not to believe that is to question the love and care God has for me, a love He demonstrated in no uncertain terms when He gave His only begotten Son.  Of course He will avenge me.  If I don’t believe that, I may as well not believe the incarnation of the Lord.
            And then this:  do I believe that God will forgive me an infinite number of times?  I am supposed to be His child, striving to become like Him.  If I can’t forgive, then maybe I don’t believe He forgives, and if He doesn’t forgive, then my whole belief system is flawed.  Why do I bother?
            Our American culture tends to laud as strong those who fight back, take revenge, and hold grudges.  “That’s going too far,” and, “I just won’t take that,” has been uttered in countless movies by “the strong, silent type.”  And what do we all do?  We applaud the man who finally refuses to turn the other cheek.  We admire the man who fights back.  We approve the man who chooses not to forget the sins against him—the one who says, “I’ll never be hurt again.” 
            What if God said those things about us?  Aren’t you shivering in your boots to realize where you would be if God hadn’t said instead, “Your sins I will remember no more,” and “Though your sins be as scarlet they shall be as white as snow?”  Aren’t you thrilled beyond measure to read the inspired words of John, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness?” (Jer 31:34; Isa 1: 18; 1 John 1:9) 
            Do you ever find yourself wanting to tell everyone about the people you think have mistreated you?  You and that old Illinois farmer are standing in the same shoes.  Take off those shoes for you are standing on the Holy Ground of a God who loves and forgives to an infinite measure.  If you want to stand with Him, you must forgive in the same way.
            “Lord, increase our faith.”
 
Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord." Romans 12:19.
 
Dene Ward    

            On April 6, 1896, the first modern day Olympics opened in Athens, Greece, after a break of 1500 years.  You will find varying accounts but there were 240-280 athletes from 13 or 14 countries who participated in 43 events.  The games were organized by the International Olympic Committee, created by Pierre de Coubertin.  First place received a silver medal and second a copper medal.  The IOC has now retroactively awarded gold, silver, and bronze medals as the custom came to be.  So with that in mind, at the first modern Olympiad, the United States won the most gold medals at 11, but the Greeks won the most overall at 47.  The games were so successful that they continued every four years with the exception of 1916 (World War I) and 1940 and 1944 (World War II).
            While I was doing the research for this post I came across a reference to an athlete from the original Olympics period, the 207th Olympiad in 47 AD.  Melankomas of Caria won the boxing event.  Legend has it that he won without dealing a single blow and without being hit.  He trained day and night and his endurance was such that it is said he could hold up his arms to defend himself and dodge blows for two days straight until the opponent simply wore himself out and could no longer fight.  Obviously there were no time limits or rounds in those days.  A good discussion of the man and the history of Greek boxing in general can be found on WordPress, "The Arms Man" and "The Greatest Boxer of All Time."  You will also find more varying information about exactly when he boxed, for even that information is a little unsettled.
            After reading this piece I found myself reciting Isaiah 53:  He was oppressed, yet when he was afflicted he opened not his mouth; as a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and as a sheep that before its shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth, Isa 53:7.  Jesus won the battle with Satan not by striking him down but by taking our punishment upon himself; not by fighting back but by rising from the dead.  The "blow" Jesus dealt to Satan was a sinless life and the resurrection from the dead.
            Melankomas was not the first boxer by that name in the ancient Olympics.  The first was his father, and he simply took up his father's occupation and perfected it.  Jesus asks the same of his disciples.  "Follow me," he said again and again.  And "Turn the other cheek," "Love your enemies," "Reconcile with your brother," be willing to "take wrong" and "be defrauded" for the kingdom's sake.  Again and again we are taught not to strike a blow, but to take one without striking back, to give more than people ask of us and to share with the needy.  And if we do, we will find ourselves winning the race just like he did, never striking out, never taking revenge, but giving good to all. 
            Our Olympiad occurs every day.  Let's fight as he did, as Paul did, and win the gold.
 
Know ye not that they that run in a race run all, but one receives the prize? Even so run; that ye may attain.  And every man that strives in the games exercises self-control in all things. Now they [do it] to receive a corruptible crown; but we an incorruptible.  I therefore so run, as not uncertainly; so fight I, as not beating the air: but I buffet my body, and bring it into bondage: lest by any means, after that I have preached to others, I myself should be rejected 1 Cor 9:24-27.
 
Dene Ward

We don’t like to think about being a prisoner.  As Americans we bridle against anything that affects our freedom, our “rights.”  As Christians we proclaim that we have “freedom in Christ,” Gal 2:4; 5:1,13.  Maybe we were once “slaves of sin,” Rom 6:16-18, but no longer—we are free, free, free!
            Let’s just assume that we are free from sin, that we overcome more often than not, that it certainly isn’t a habit any longer.  Oh, if that were the only thing we needed to free ourselves of. 
            Far too many I know are still slaves of others’ opinions, of some rigid sense of dignity, and of an overwhelming feeling of inadequacy when confronted once again with the mercy of a loving God. 
            Being inordinately worried about what others think is simply a brand of egotism.  We are placing our own expectations of them on a pedestal.  We are afraid of what they think about us, when they probably don’t think about us one way or the other.  Yet we hear one statement, view one action, and suddenly we concoct a whole scenario about their opinions of us that may or may not be—in fact, probably are not—true.  It rolls around in our minds over and over to the point that we cannot sleep, cannot eat, or we even make ourselves sick over it.  What did Jesus say to Peter when he asked about John’s future?  “What is that to you?”  We would do well to remember that line far more often than we do.  Stop being taken prisoner by others.  Fulfill your obligations to them, but do not try to take responsibility for theirs.  “What is that to you?”
            And then we find ourselves in the prison of dignity.  I vividly remember walking through the Philadelphia Zoo on the first weekend of our honeymoon.  It started to rain, and I was busy trying to find shelter “so my hair won’t get wet,” I told Keith. 
            “Who cares if your hair gets wet?” he asked as he grabbed my hand and we went running down the sidewalk in the rain.  We found our way back to our midtown hotel drenched, but laughing all the way.  When your dignity keeps you from enjoying life, from playing with your children, from worshipping your God, it’s time you let yourself out of prison.
            But the most ironic slavery we have placed ourselves in is also the saddest.  Here we have a God who loves us enough to die for us, yet we tie ourselves up in knots over our inability to repay Him.  Instead of joy over our salvation, we cringe when we think of our unworthiness.  We try and try and try to be perfect, always knowing it’s an impossible task, and so “hope,” instead of being the “full assurance” the New Testament teaches us, becomes a miserable “maybe.”  We find ourselves praying that when we die we will see it coming so we can fire off one last frantic prayer for forgiveness. 
            Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom, 2 Cor 3:17.  Funny how some of these people who spend so much time worrying about whether they “do” enough for the Lord are some of the very ones who talk the most about the Holy Spirit.  My Bible says their fretting is a sure sign they don’t have the Spirit. 
            The New Testament plainly teaches that we are to have self-control.  That doesn’t just apply to alcohol, drugs, gluttony, sexual immorality, and the other “fleshly” sins.  For whatever overcomes a person, to that he is enslaved, 2 Pet 2:19.  Did you catch that?  It can be anything, whether sinful or not.  A relationship, an attitude, a habit, your upbringing, your past mistakes--whatever controls your life makes you its slave—its prisoner. 
            Let it go.  There is truly only one Master worth serving.
 
"All things are lawful for me," but not all things are expedient. "All things are lawful for me," but I will not be enslaved by anything, 1 Corinthians 6:12.
 
Dene Ward

     When I was a music teacher I maintained membership in three different organizations, each of which had a local group, a state affiliate, and a national affiliate.  I filled out application forms of several pages length, provided my resumes, and paid what at times was a hefty fee to be a member.   Because I was a member of these groups, my students had far more performing opportunities, learning opportunities such as master classes, activities like summer music camp, competitions they could enter, and scholarships they could earn. 
     Was any of these organizations perfect in the way they were run or the people who made up their membership?  Not a one, but I never expected them to be.  They were made up of human beings who by definition are flawed and imperfect.  Sometimes the means they used to determine things seemed not the best, even open to things like favoritism and other bias.  But we all made the best of what we had, focusing on the strengths of each association and using them to serve our students as best we could.  We understood the original purpose behind these organizations and focused on that, not the imperfections.
     We all understand things like that.  Who is not a member of a professional organization that leaves them wanting occasionally?  Yet we all put up with it for the good we know it will do us.  That is why I am a little impatient with people who seem to think they should be able to demand a perfect body of people to place their church membership with or else they shouldn't have to bother.  As an old preacher said so long ago, if you go looking for a perfect church you will never find it; but if you do, once you join it, it won't be perfect any longer.
     Let us hasten to add, Christ's church by design is certainly perfect.  Its very existence and function makes known the manifold wisdom of God, Eph 3:9-11.  The problem is the same one that organizations always have—it is made up of people who are not perfect, who forget its purpose, who decide they know better than God, who think they are the only ones smart enough to do things "right."  Certainly it should be our business to correct any practice we find that is unauthorized, correct—or remove--any unrighteous behavior, and constantly tweak the way things are run so that it comes as close as possible to God's original intention.  But when all is said and done, it is still a group of flawed people, people who still make mistakes, and who still sometimes show themselves to be less than they ought to be.  So what?  Find me a perfect group of people anywhere and then we can talk about it.  More than that, show me that you don't put up with flawed, imperfect people in any other context.  Of course you do—starting with your own family.
     So let's cut out the nonsense.  It isn't that you wish to avoid being part of a local congregation because the people are so imperfect; it's that you just don't want to be accountable to a group God specifically designed to help you grow and improve.  You don't want to have elders prying into your life because God holds them accountable for your soul.  You don't want people to love you so much that they come asking what's wrong when you are trying to so hard to pretend nothing is.  You wouldn't even want to be part of God's perfectly run church of perfect people if you could find it. 
     Think today about how much you put up with everywhere else yet won't put up with even a smidgen of when it comes to God's church.  You know in your heart that, as imperfect as they are, no better group of people exists on the planet than those in the Lord's body.  Stop trying to pretend otherwise and use what He has given you for your soul's, and your family's good.

We ask you, brothers, to respect those who labor among you and are over you in the Lord and admonish you, and to esteem them very highly in love because of their work. Be at peace among yourselves. And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone. Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you (1Thess 5:12-18).

Dene Ward

I have a feeling that some of Bella and Chloe’s playtime might have been a little unsettling to Bella’s youngest master.  Young wild animals learn survival skills through play—how to hunt and how to fight.  Even domesticated animals learn some of these things.  Puppies always engage in rough and tumble play, including baby nips and growls.  Chloe and Bella did the same, and being larger and older, it looked much fiercer.
            Teeth bared, growls ferocious, their muzzles tilted back and forth as if trying to find the best place to lock onto one another.  Larger Bella ran at Chloe and broadsided her, sending her rolling, then pounced on top.  In seconds, more experienced Chloe had her legs wrapped around Bella and flipped her over, like a wrestler reversing a pin.  Sometimes they ran headlong into one another like charging bulls and as they met, the saliva flew in all directions.  I learned to stand way back.
            How did I know this wasn’t real, that it was simply an older dog teaching a younger through play?  Because they never drew blood.  If you watched their mouths, neither ever closed tightly on the other dog’s body anywhere.  And when they finished, they stood panting for a few moments, energy spent, both tongues dangling toward the ground, looking at one another.  Often they would touch noses, then walk shoulder to shoulder back to the shade, Chloe under the truck and Bella under a tree—lesson for the day over.
            I remember a time when brethren could discuss things, even differing views on a passage, and each come away having learned something.  They could trust one another, not only to have each other’s best interest at heart, but also to listen and consider fairly, and never to become angry.  Even if voices rose, no blood was drawn, spiritually speaking, respect continued, and both left with more knowledge and insight.
            What has happened to us?  If someone disagrees with me, it makes me mad or it hurts my feelings, and either way I don’t like him any more.  It is no longer about learning and growing—it about winning arguments and putting people down.  Instead of being able to trust a person because he is a brother, one must try to find a brother he can trust, and it isn’t easy.  That’s not just a shame, it’s a tragedy.  If a man say, I love God, and hates his brother, he is a liar: for he that loves not his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment have we from him, that he who loves God love his brother also. 1 John 4:20-21
            God meant us to learn and grow together, honing our skills and building one another up.  It might make us occasional sparring partners, but in that sparring we learn how to handle the word more accurately, we learn how to defeat the gainsayers who deny the Lord, and the false teachers who might be after our souls.  And after that sparring match, we “touch gloves” and leave with our love and respect intact.
            At least that’s the way it’s supposed to be.
 
Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17
 
Dene Ward

We had a second stint of puppysitting recently and this time Chloe adapted more quickly.  By the end of the first day, she and now six month old Bella were romping together in the field.  Chloe was still the boss and called the shots—including the play schedule—but play they did, especially in the evenings when Chloe would crawl out from under the porch, stretch, look over her shoulder at Bella and scamper off with a toss of the head—an open invitation to “catch me if you can.”
            Bella also came with us when I gave Chloe her morning walk around the property.  Chloe usually accompanies me in a steady trot, stopping here and there to sniff at an armadillo hole or a depression at the bottom of the fence where a possum makes its nightly excursions.  Bella preferred to run everywhere, usually in the meandering lines of Billy, the little boy in the Family Circus comic.  Then when she suddenly looked up and found herself behind, she would come bulling her way past us in a brown blur.
            It was one of those times that particular morning and I heard her overtaking us like a buffalo stampede.  The path at that point was narrow, just room for me, my two walking sticks, and Chloe.  As Bella drew near, I just happened to be looking down when she very neatly leapfrogged over Chloe without disturbing a fur on her head.  In a few seconds she was around the bend and out of sight.
            I wonder how many we leapfrog over every day and leave in the dust behind us because we’re too impatient to wait, too unconcerned to care, too impulsive to even notice?  Sometimes the young with their new ideas, scriptural though they may be, have too little respect for the old warriors who need time to consider and be sure.  Sometimes the more knowledgeable become too arrogant to slow their pace for the babes or those whose capacity may not be as deep.  Sometimes the strong forget that God expects them to help the weak, the ill, the faltering.  All these people are just obstacles in our way, things to get past in our rush.
            When you leapfrog over a brother and leave him behind, how do you know he will make it?  God didn’t expect us to walk the path alone.  He meant for us to walk it together.  When you lack the love to walk it with your brother, you may as well not walk it at all.
 
Now we that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves. Let each one of us please his neighbor for that which is good, unto edifying. For Christ also pleased not himself; but, as it is written, The reproaches of them that reproached thee fell upon me. Romans 15:1-3.
 
Dene Ward

We are puppysitting for some friends, a four month old chocolate lab named Bella.  She is already taller than our full-grown Australian cattle dog, though not as heavy, a long-legged gangly dog still with a puppy mindset—which means faster is better than slower, all things are meant to be chewed upon, and play time is the only time. 
            Chloe, on the other hand, is middle-aged, 6½, or about 45 in dog years.  To her the best things in the world are a belly scratch, a chewy treat, and a nap, and one of the worst things in the world is a puppy being foisted upon her carefully controlled domain.  She learned quickly that Bella has difficulty getting under the truck—something about all those long knobby leg bones getting in the way—so she spends the vast majority of her day there while Bella roams about being a curious puppy.  Someone I know well has learned not to leave things lying about outside if he doesn’t want them ventilated with puppy-teeth holes, something I consider an unexpected benefit to Bella’s visit.
            Chloe is not a purely sedentary lap dog, though.  She enjoys nosing around some, and will run back and forth to the gate to greet us.  She walks around the property with me and often leaves me in the dust when she spies something interesting in the corner woods.  Bella is walking with us now.  Her nose is always in the air, and her ears cocked for any sounds that might drift our way—one neighbor’s baying bloodhound and the other’s crowing rooster, for example.  But she doesn’t listen long.  As soon as she determines the direction, she is off in a shot while Chloe listens a bit more, making a studied determination about whether the sound needs investigating or not.
            Bella thinks everything is a game.  She has no ability to distinguish when it’s time to be serious.  Chloe will stop for a drink and Bella will be all over her, standing in the water, stepping on the edge of the pan, causing it to tilt and spilling the water everywhere.  When a frog jumps in the old tubs Keith uses to soak his hickory wood for smoking meat, she jumps right in after it, NOT looking before she leaps, landing belly deep with a splash.  Reminds me of the puppy we had once who thought the rattlesnake next to the woodpile was a toy and tried to play with it.  We managed to get him away before he was bitten, but when we left for a camping trip, the neighbor found him one morning with fang marks in his neck.  Lucky for him, the skin there was loose and that’s all the snake got, not the muscle in his neck.
            Yet despite their own preferences, both of these dogs are adapting.  Chloe finally learned to quit running away and stand up for herself.  After a nip or two on the nose, Bella knows who the boss is now and she will actually “bow” before Chloe, lowering her height by crouching on her belly in front of her.  Chloe will now stand nose to nose with her, sniffing, and then suddenly take off in a run, looking behind to make sure Bella is chasing her.  Bella has learned to be a little more discreet and Chloe has learned that fun is still—well, fun, and it’s worth having some once in awhile.
            Older and younger people—older and younger Christians, no matter their physical age—need to learn from one another in the same way.  We teach our children not to go running down the halls, especially among older people who have issues with balance and might be knocked over.  A fall for the elderly could easily lead to a broken bone, and how many broken bones have led to a fatal case of pneumonia?  That’s not something a child would ever think of, which is why the adults must teach them.  In the same way, babes in Christ mustn’t go running helter-skelter down our spiritual halls with no concern about the fragile souls we might encounter.  Yet, the older ones need to learn that we must go out into those halls and encounter those souls, not sit quietly and safely in our pews.
            The younger must learn the need for wisdom and discretion and the value of quiet reverence, but the older must learn that “emotion” is not a four letter word. 
            The younger must learn respect for those they label “nay-sayers.”  They must realize that those old “fuddy-duddy” cautions come from concern for their younger souls’ safety and good, not from cowardice or a lack of faith.  The older must remind themselves that God called them to take a risk, to exercise their faith not to sit in dusty rooms discussing it.
            The younger in the faith and the older in the faith—we learn from each other, but not if we’re too busy putting one another down, refusing to listen to one another, with attitudes full of disrespect and disdain. 
 
The glory of young men is their strength, but the beauty of old men is their gray hair, Prov 20:29.
 
Dene Ward

On February 1, 1960, four students from North Carolina A & T staged a sit-in at the whites-only lunch counter in a Greensboro, North Carolina, Woolworth's.  It was not the first sit-in, but it was the first time that students had been able to make a difference.  Before, Civil Rights had been considered something for "grown-ups."  By April that year, 70 southern cities had experienced sit-ins, a direct result of this one. 
            I wonder if the feelings of people then were similar to the time when word came to Jerusalem about Peter preaching to Cornelius, the first Gentile convert (Acts 10).  They certainly took him to task in chapter 11.  By the end of that explanation, Antioch was preaching to Gentiles and welcoming them to the fold right and left (Acts 11:19-23).  All of a sudden the "status quo" had changed, and the ones "in power" were not so happy about it.
            What we fail to understand is the great divide between Jew and Gentile.  Gentiles were considered unclean and called "dogs."  Jews believed they were the favored race and that salvation could only come from them.  They went out of their way to avoid doing business with Gentiles, eating with them, or socializing with them.  Gentiles thought Jews were strange because of their belief in monotheism, and knowing their utter disdain for them, hated them in return.  We think the racial divide in our country was bad, this was many times worse.  When a Jew married a Gentile, the family held a funeral for him.  He was dead as far as they were concerned.
            But God had stated from the beginning, even as He was forming His chosen people from whom the Messiah would come, that this would be a blessing "to all nations" (Gen 22:18).  ("Goy" by the way is the Yiddish word for Gentile, and it means "nation.")  That promise continues throughout Genesis and is picked up by the prophets, more times than I can even list.  Isaiah said all nations would flow into "the mountain of the Lord's house" (2:2).  Micah repeats part of this prophecy almost verbatim (4:1-3).  Isaiah also promises that all those who had formerly been considered unclean will be accepted into Jehovah's house, for my house shall be a house of prayer for all peoples (50:1-8).
            Jesus gave hints of this unification during his ministry, clear enough that the Pharisees once remarked, God forbid! (Luke 20:16).  And before he left this world his instructions clearly underlined God's original intent, Go into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature, Mark 16:15.
            God expects all of us, whatever nation, whatever race, to meet together as one body.  I would hate to be one of those in the past who forbade a certain race to come into the assembly of the saints.  What do we think?  That God will have a "Jews only" or "whites only" section roped off in Heaven?  When we sing with our children, "Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight," we should have a congregation that shows them exactly that—all nations accepted into the house of God.  This acceptance goes both ways—not just one side to the other, each one of us acting with perfect love and humility.  None of us is any better than the other in the sight of our Creator—who made us all.
 
And I have other sheep that are not of this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd (John 10:16).
 
Dene Ward
 

I imagine everyone has, by the time they reach my age, had some sort of physical therapy.  Sometimes it is needed after an injury, sometimes after surgery, sometimes because of a physical condition or illness.  If you have had a good experience with physical therapy, you know that it hurts, but that the hurt eventually reduces the pain.  If you have ever done any sort of strength training, that should make sense to you.  After a work-out your muscles might be sore, but soon you can do more with less soreness.  In order to strengthen a muscle, you simply must cause it some stress.  If I refuse physical therapy because "it hurts," sooner or later I won't be able to move at all.
            I keep doing the physical therapy exercises I was given 20 years ago.  That is why I can still walk.  Anyone who has had severe back pain knows that it effects every single part of your life.  No one moves anything, except maybe their pinkie finger, without aid from the back one way or the other.  When we first moved to Tampa, things were so unsettled with unpacking, finding new doctors, and having men in the house renovating practically every inch of it, that I did not do my exercises for about 6 months.  And my back knew it.  It took a couple of months to get things back in order.  And whenever I have even missed a couple of days due to traveling or illness, that little twinge in my lower back tells me it's time to get back to work! 
            I do one exercise that stretches out my back in a particularly strong way.  I feel the pull when I lean over.  It hurts, but I have grown to think of it as a "good" hurt because when I sit up straight afterward, the "real" pain is gone.  Keith has a spot just under his left shoulder blade that hurts due to a bullet wound.  When I feel around in there, I can feel the knot.  When I rub it he usually winces and grunts a few times, but afterward, he always says, "That's so much better."  I am sure you get the point by now.
            May I suggest that the same is true of "spiritual therapy?"  Studying to better oneself often hurts as we begin to see faults we have ignored.  Sometimes it hurts so much that we just blind ourselves to what we see.  James describes something similar:  But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing (Jas 1:22-25).
            And then there are the "wounds" that a brother can inflict with rebukes, reproaches, or sometimes just an exhortation.  No matter how carefully he words it, it will not be any fun to listen to, any more than physical therapy is fun.  Yet, a real friend often knows best what we need to hear at the moment, and if his friendship is true, he will rub those sore spots until they grow better. Faithful are the wounds of a friend; But the kisses of an enemy are profuse (Prov 27:6).   Too often we prefer the flattery, and our souls will suffer even greater pain if we give in to that preference.
            So give yourself some spiritual therapy today.  You will feel all the better for it, and be in better spiritual shape too.
 
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness; let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head; let my head not refuse it… (Ps 141:5).
 
Dene Ward