“By Christ Redeemed” is a Lord’s Supper hymn, specifically designed for that purpose by the author of the words, George Rawson.  Rawson was born in Leeds, England on June 5, 1807, and practiced law there for many years.  He wrote several hymns and helped compile at least one collection.  His hymns are known for refinement of thought and propriety of language.  In today’s atmosphere of informality in every place and circumstance, that may be why we seldom sing them any longer.  And it is our loss.
            We did sing this particular hymn not long ago, the first time in years, and I noticed a somewhat puzzling phrase in what was our third, and last verse (he originally wrote six verses).
And thus that dark betrayal night
with the last advent we unite,
by one bright chain of loving rite,
until he come.
With what “advent” do we “unite” and how?
            An advent is an arrival or a coming.  The disciples were told as Jesus ascended, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Acts 1:11.  Paul adds in 1 Cor 11:26, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.” It is the coming of the Lord that we are speaking of and we are to take the Lord’s Supper on a regular basis until that happens.
            Paul says this in a context of unity that begins earlier than chapter 11—we are all one body and therefore we partake of the one bread.  If you follow carefully through several chapters, you will see that the “body” we are supposed to be “discerning” is the Lord’s body, the church.  We are communing not just with the Lord, but with each other.  Why else would it matter that we are to do it “When we are come together?”  When we tuck our noses into our navels and ignore one another as the plates are passed, we are missing the point.  Taking the Supper should unite us as we consider that we were all sinners and we were all saved by the same sacrifice. 
          And far more profound is this:  we are also connecting with our spiritual ancestors.  Each of us, as we take the Lord’s Supper, unite with a long chain of believers, hundreds of thousands—perhaps even millions by this time--in showing our faith that he will indeed come again.
 
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. 1Thess 4:16-18
 
Dene Ward
 

While my students did win solo awards in piano solo, art song, and musical theater, our specialty seemed to be piano ensembles.  The point of an ensemble is not just to play the right notes at the right time, but to make a piano duet sound like one person with four hands and a trio like one person with six.  Not an easy thing to do when one partner plays with a heavy hand and the other with light finger work, one with the ebb and flow of rubato and the other the steadiness of a machine.
            My teacher friends laughed at me when they saw all my students make a point to approach the piano together, sit at the same time, put their hands on and off the keys at the same time, then stand together and leave together.  I guess they never thought about whose students were bringing back trophies and whose weren’t.  The point of all that togetherness was to infuse oneness into them.  Your performance starts from the moment your names are called; that single four- or six-handed creature acted as one from then till they hit their seats in the audience afterward.
            The performance aspects were trickier.  Who has the melody?  Does the partner have a counter-melody or an oom-pah-pah chordal accompaniment?  Does the partner enter with the same melody a few bars later?  How can the one with the steady underlying rhythm make it stable enough to help the syncopated partner, without overpowering him?  Are the dynamics terraced or interlaced?  How each partner plays his part depends upon the answer to all those questions.  What a lot to remember and listen for. 
            I had one duo that excelled at all of this.  They played together for ten years and by the time the older graduated from high school, I was positive they were even breathing in sync while they performed.  They played pieces where one partner got up, walked around the piano and sat down to play again; then later in the piece got up and went back to his original position, all without stopping, without errors, and without one of them falling off the bench!  They played pieces where the one higher on the keyboard picked up his hand and put it between the other’s two hands and then continued playing, without a hitch.  If you were not watching, you would not know anything had happened.  Once they played a piece where one’s left hand was on the black keys above the other’s right hand on the white keys, and they never once got in each other’s way.  Now that’s teamwork.  (Did I mention that Nathan was one of the partners?)
            Perfecting the piece was not enough for them.  They even created entrances, with both walking down opposite aisles exactly together and approaching the judges’ bench with a flourish precisely at the same time in the middle of the front row.  At the end of the piece they each crossed the outside hand to bounce off the last note with the inside hand, and held their hands up for exactly the same three count—nonverbally.  They simply knew each other that well.
             And I remember my baby duet.  A little stepbrother and -sister act in the Primary 1 category performing “O Susanna.”  When one had the melody the other played softer; when the other came in with the melody, the first one pulled her tone way down almost instinctively, and then back up again when it was her turn.  These were 8 year olds, mind you, and it was flawless, seamless, and so amazing the judges looked at each other as soon as it happened.  I knew then we had it, and sure enough, we did.
            That is what teamwork is all about.  You know that old coach’s saying, “There is no I in team?”  Unfortunately, many people still manage to spell “me,” and the team is never as unified as it could be.  Teamwork means doing what is best for the group.  It means constantly putting someone else ahead of me.  It means making an objective judgment of what is most important at a given time and not forcing my issues to the forefront if they are less critical than another’s.  It means not complaining if I don’t have the lead and trying to horn my way in anyway.  It means not whining when I don’t get the praise I think I deserve.  If one of my students had said, “I don’t care if I don’t have the melody.  I am just as important as her, so I’m playing my chords just as loudly,” they would have never won anything.  In fact, they would never have gotten a superior at the district level and not made it to the state competition.  What’s best for me will very often ruin it for everyone else.  And we all need to have that feeling.   If we do, no one feels left out or unappreciated. 
            Why is it that we cannot see these things when we are the ones involved?  Are we really so dense?  Is it pride?  Is it arrogance?  Is it our rights-oriented society?  Whatever it is, we need to get over it, so the church can once again make known the manifold wisdom of God, Eph 3:10, and we, through our unity, can cause the world to believe, John 17:21.
 
Doing nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind, each counting other better than himself, not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others.  Phil 2:3,4          
 
Dene Ward
 

I ran a piano and voice studio off and on—between babies and moves—for 37 years, the last 23 in a row in one place with no “offs.”  I entered my students into several evaluations and competitions a year.  About 20 years ago, I discovered a state competition for students who made “superior” ratings at the district level.  I asked around and two well-meaning teachers told me that I needn’t bother taking my students because no one from Union County could possibly win.  Winners usually came from the Miami area, students of retired concert artists, students with a concert career in mind, willing to practice for several hours a day.
            Always looking for motivation, at my next student meeting I told them about the competition and passed along the opinions, “Your students can’t possibly win.”  Their reaction began with head-shaking confusion followed by red-faced indignation, and finally, steely-eyed determination.  From that point on they had a mission.
            Unfortunately, our first trip proved my friends correct.  We won absolutely nothing.  Besides the disadvantages I mentioned before, the groups we competed in were sometimes as large as 80 with only one winner and three or four honorable mentions chosen from “superior” rated students all across the state.  But they did not give up—they learned to do better.   
              And sure enough, the next year we had a winner.  Every year after that we brought home at least one winner, and one year we outdid every other group in the state:  nine students with performance wins (one of whom was my son Nathan), three state officers elected, including state vice-president and president (Nathan), and a $200 summer music camp scholarship winner (did I mention that Nathan won that?). 
             How did they manage this?  Things that had never made any difference to them at all suddenly became important.  We taped their performances at lessons and they would sit and pick themselves apart—I seldom said a word.  All of a sudden they could hear that their tempo was not steady, that their melody got lost in the underlying harmonies, that their dynamic shading was practically nonexistent; that their vocal placement was wrong, that their diphthongs were too wide, that their tone was unsupported. 
             Most importantly I think, this group became a team.  Several times during the year the students listened to one another and gave critiques.  The ones performing did not let their pride get in the way because someone was telling them they were not perfect—they were anxious to hear how to do better, and after the taping exercise, realized that we do not all see (or hear) ourselves correctly.  And it worked.  They began to win.  And success breeds success.
            They even came up with their own uniforms—black pants or skirt, white shirt, and Looney Tunes tie.  This little outfit started with just one duet team and gradually spread.  It finally got to the point where new students were asking me when they got their “uniforms.”  And whenever a child was without something—especially the tie, which some had trouble finding--there would be the “passing of the ties” between rooms and events as they raced to perform, so that no one would be without.  It was amazing to me to see this happen among children, with no prompting whatsoever. The last few years as I sat in the audience, I heard other parents and teachers around me saying, “Uh-oh.  They’re from the group with the ties,” as one of my ensembles approached the piano.  Even the ones who never won anything viewed the “outfit” as a badge of honor.  It meant they belonged to a group who did win, and that meant they won, too.
            Do I really need to make an application here?  What if the church acted like this group of children?    What if we all had the attitude, “Please tell me how to do better?”  “Please tell me exactly what I’m doing wrong.”  What if we all “rejoiced with those who rejoiced” instead of becoming envious?  What if we all viewed being a part of the Lord’s body as an honor?  What if we all looked Satan right in the face and said, “I can too do it!”  And then did.
 
There should be no schism in the body; but the members should have the same care one for another.  And if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; or if one member is honored, all the members rejoice with it.  Now YOU are the body of Christ and each is a member of it.  1 Cor 12:25-27
 
Dene Ward

Once I was straying in sin's dark valley,
No hope within could I see,
They searched thru heaven and found a Savior,
To save a poor lost soul like me

Chorus

Oh what a Savior! Oh Hallelujah
His heart was broken on Calvary,
HIs hands we nail scared: His side was driven,
He gave his life blood for you and me


He left the Father, with all his riches,
With calmness sweet and serene,
Came down from heaven and gave his life blood
To make the vilest sinner clean.

Chorus

Death's chilly waters I'll soon be crossing,
His hands will lead me safe o'er
I'll join the chorus in that great city,
And sing up there forever more
Chorus
 
            O What a Savior was written by Marvin P. Dalton in 1948.  As a musician I find it one of the most beautiful hymn melodies we sing.  Let's face it, folks—the modern hymns have a tendency to hover over four to six notes and repeat three or four of them incessantly (along with a lot of word repetition as well).  I have asked more than once, "Can't anyone write a melody anymore?"  Well, this man knew how to do it.
            Yet I have heard many want to do away with this hymn because of this one line: "They searched through Heaven and found a Savior."  Why?  Because we all know that God already had it in mind "before the foundation of the world" that Jesus would become flesh and dwell among us, eventually dying on the cross for our sins.  No search was necessary!  Well, of course God had it all planned, but that objection shows a whole lot of ignorance of Scripture.
              And I saw a strong angel proclaiming with a great voice, Who is worthy to open the book, and to loose the seals thereof? And no one in the heaven, or on the earth, or under the earth, was able to open the book, or to look thereon. And I wept much, because no one was found worthy to open the book, or to look thereon: and one of the elders said unto me, Weep not; behold, the Lion that is of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has overcome to open the book and the seven seals thereof (Rev 5:2-5).
            Did you catch that?  "No one was found"—that phrase implies a search.  And where did they search?  "In heaven, on the earth, or under the earth."  John, speaking in figurative language, uses the metaphor of a search to impress upon us the absolute impossibility of anything or anyone other than Jesus the Messiah being able to save us.  Just as God paraded the animals in front of Adam to prove to Adam (not Himself) that he needed the woman, John is showing us a search to prove to us that we need Christ.  It's called poetic license, and if you read the Psalms, this sort of thing is not uncommon. 
            God has always used language the way we use it, the same rules of logic, the same use of figures, the same rules of reading (such as context), and language that anyone, not just a scholar, can understand.  The Psalms his people sang in the Old Testament used all these things, and John does, too, in his highly figurative Revelation.  Mr. Dalton was simply using a time- and God-honored way of writing poetry.  Sometimes we get so picky that if it were up to us half the Bible might be thrown out.  Be careful what you are showing about your Biblical knowledge, or lack thereof, and enjoy this beautiful melody and thoroughly scriptural song.
 
Dene Ward

Today's post is by guest writer Matt Bassford, and was originally printed in the emagazine Pressing On edited by Mark Roberts.  Contact me (left sidebar) for subscription information.

For years, I’ve been an advocate of using quality hymns in worship. Not surprisingly, there are plenty of folks who disagree with me, particularly when I get to picking on contemporary praise songs that I don’t think are useful in congregational worship. They’ve even been known to get upset about it. It’s like I called their dog ugly or something.

One of the most common countercharges is that I don’t like the contemporary songs I don’t like because I’m stuck in the past. According to this way of thinking, I believe the only good hymns are the ones written in the 19th century, filled with “Thee” and “Thou”, and possessed of syntax so convoluted that only Yoda could love it. Oh, and the music has to sound like it was born on a pipe organ too.

There are certainly people who believe such things, but I’m not one of them. I think “Abide with Me” is a wonderful hymn, but not every hymn has to sound like “Abide with Me” to be good. Instead, my usual indictment of many modern worship songs is that 1) they lack strong Biblical content, and 2) the music is too complicated for a congregation to learn easily.

Neither one of these things is a necessary attribute of sacred songs written in the past 50 years, though such songs often fail on one or both counts. Rather, they are frequently problems because modern authors and composers generally don’t make good content and congregationality their priorities, particularly the latter.

Chris Tomlin doesn’t write music for me and my modest range. He writes music for Chris Tomlin, Chris Tomlin’s wonderful range, and Chris Tomlin’s backup band of professional musicians. Most brethren, however, have musical gifts much more like mine than like Chris Tomlin’s. Is it any wonder when they struggle with the Chris Tomlin repertoire?

However, when contemporary writers pay attention to content and the musical abilities of ordinary worshipers, they can turn out some excellent work that is eminently suitable for use in our assemblies. By now, most brethren are familiar with “In Christ Alone”, written by Stuart Townend and Keith and Kristin Getty. Together and separately, they’ve written plenty of other hymns that are comparable in quality and usefulness. The same goes for Bob Kauflin and the many writers who have been associated with Sovereign Grace through the years.

Recently, the Australian group CityAlight has attracted my attention (the tagline on their website is “Christian worship music with Biblically rich lyrics”, which is a good sign). Yes, they use drums and guitars, but brethren have been adapting denominational hymns for a-cappella use since the Restoration. We can do it here too.

Consider, for instance, the CityAlight song “Jesus Strong and Kind”, which I recently encountered for the first time. Its lyrics are:

1. Jesus said that if I thirst
I should come to Him;
No one else can satisfy;
I should come to Him.
2. Jesus said if I am weak
I should come to Him;
No one else can be my strength;
I should come to Him.
Chorus:
For the Lord is good and faithful;
He will keep us day and night;
We can always run to Jesus,
Jesus, strong and kind.
3. Jesus said that if I fear
I should come to Him;
No one else can be my shield;
I should come to Him.
(Chorus)
4. Jesus said if I am lost
He will come to me;
And He showed me on that cross
He will come to me.
(Chorus)

That’s good. It doesn’t look like the hymns Isaac Watts wrote, nor yet like the hymns I write. It’s still good. It reveals Biblical study and contemplation, it is focused, and it is deeply meaningful to the believer, especially those who also have spent time in study of the word.

If I may indulge in hymn-geekery for a moment, it’s also good because of its structural strength. Like many modern praise songs, it doesn’t use a strong rhyme scheme and can’t develop structure that way. Instead, it employs repetition, mixed with a few powerful word changes, as its structural element. The change from “thirst” and “satisfy” to “weak” and “strength” makes v. 2 meaningfully different from v. 1, even though most of the words are the same. However, the whole still has unity because of those similarities.

The music is also (or should be, at least) congregationally accessible. The use of verses means that brethren who learn music by rote don’t have to learn as much. The range is limited to a congregation-friendly octave, C to C in the original sheet music, though I’d probably raise it to D or Eb for four-part a-cappella use. I like the tune, too. Churches of Christ should be able to sing this one easily.

When was this fine piece of hymnody written? 2019. All it takes is somebody in the denominational world who cares about the Bible and congregational singing, and they’ll hand us something we can use.

Indeed, this happens frequently. This year, I wrote a workbook called Singing with Understanding for a Bible class I taught. Each lesson of the workbook pitted an unfamiliar hymn I liked against an unfamiliar hymn I didn’t so that the class could analyze the qualities of good and bad hymns. For the sake of fairness, I segregated hymns by time period: old good against old bad, new good against new bad. Of the four categories, I had by far the easiest time filling out the “New Good” category because so many of the best worship songs being written now are unfamiliar to the church.

That’s a shame. Rather than allowing CCM icons and praise teams to drive the additions to our repertoire, we ought instead to be looking for songs that are written for and will benefit the congregation. If we seek, we will find, and our song worship will benefit immeasurably thereby.

Matthew Bassford

One of the many offices I held in various music teacher organizations was as Chairman for the State Level vocal competition.  I not only had to procure the judges, I had to brief them as well.  At one of those briefing events one year, one of the three judges, a gentleman in his forties, asked me if I would say something to the young ladies.  As the students came forward to hand their music to the judges, they often had to bend over to lay it on the table and show the judges which song they were singing and point out any changes they were making, like cutting a long intro in the accompaniment, or not taking a repeat for time's sake.  "These young ladies," he said, "seem to have no idea what happens when they bend over and I must constantly avert my eyes to keep from seeing down their necklines.  I know it must look like I am not listening to what they are telling me, and I don't want them to think that."  So yes, I did take the young ladies aside that day and speak to them, asking each to make sure she placed her hand on her neckline when she bent over.  A couple of them looked at me like I was crazy.  A few others simply forgot—I'll give them the benefit of the doubt since it was probably something they had never done before.
            That little experience made me realize that while we have done an admirable job of telling them that bikinis and miniskirts are not appropriate wear for a modest Christian, this latest generation seems to have had absolutely no instruction about basic things, things my generation grew up doing almost instinctively.  As a teen, I fell down the stairs at the church house one Sunday and despite a badly hurt ankle, the first thing I did was pull my skirt down!  A friend of mine, in the midst of a heart attack, played tug-o-war with an ER nurse over her blouse!  That's what I mean about being so well-taught about these things that we didn't even have to think about it, even in the midst of an emergency.
            Could I possibly make a few suggestions to the parents out there?  Here are some areas in which we need to give a little more instruction to our young (and possibly older) women.
            1.  Necklines—First let me just reiterate the lesson above.  Every time you lean over, you should put your hand on your neckline so it won't gape open.  In some cases, I have seen all the way to a young woman's belly button!  This usually happens with vee necks and scoop necks.  Unless your neckline is right at your throat, a turtleneck, mock turtle, or crew collar, hold it shut!
            Second, I am seeing more and more cleavage on Christian women, young, middle-aged, and older.  In the "olden days" as my boys liked to call my childhood, the only women brazen enough to show cleavage were street walkers and movie actresses.  Please, ladies, you can easily sew a small triangle of cloth or even fancy lace across your neckline and avoid this.
            2.  Hemlines—I had so hoped we were past this, but it's coming "up" again.  Any length of bare leg is arousing to a man.  Be careful what you are doing to your brethren.  When a man has to look at a sea of shapely young legs as he passes the Lord's Supper, someone is being horribly inconsiderate to her brethren.
            Second, girls have gotten so out of practice at wearing skirts and dresses that they have forgotten the number one basic rule—keep your knees together!  If you aren't careful, any time you move in your seat, especially turning sideways, you are likely to let them come apart.  No one needs to know the color of your underwear.
            And third, when you cross your legs, you will often get a fly-away hem on the outside of each thigh that leaves you exposed nearly to the hip, and crossing your legs makes the skirt ride up much higher than you realize.  Crossing your legs also tightens the skirt across your knees leaving a little peekaboo triangle.  Please learn to hang on to the hem as you cross your legs and tuck anything in that flips out.  And if it makes the skirt ride a foot above your knees, maybe that's a skirt you should either stop wearing or stop crossing your legs in.
            3.  Armholes—Some tank tops and sleeveless shirts have armholes so large they show half the side of your body.  In addition, they leave a tunnel that anyone can see the light at the end of, even if they try not to.  Make sure the armholes on your sleeveless attire is tight to your skin and relatively small.
            4.  Walking—No, I am not talking about that purposeful hip-sashaying walk we all know about.  I don't really think I need to say anything about that.  But here is another area where our propensity to wear pants most of the time has left young ladies not realizing the basics.  Wearing pants means you are no longer constricted by hemlines around the legs.  That means you take longer strides than the women of my day.  On the few times that you do wear a skirt, if it is constricting at all, like a straight skirt, that longer step you have become accustomed to will first, pull it tight against your body and show not only the form of your hips and bottom, but also every line of your underwear; and second, that skirt will ride up, just like it does when you sit down as you try to take that longer step.  All you need to do is shorten your stride and that usually takes care of that problem.
            And one more thing about walking:  In a time when women become angry at being objectified by men in the worst possible way, why are they wearing spike heels five or six inches high?  Do you not know what that does to your walk and to the looks of your legs and hips?  There is a reason shoe companies produce these things and men like them.  Be aware of what fashion designers are trying to do to you!
            5.  Tightness—I hate to even have to write this on a public blog post.  I have noticed pants, and especially shorts, so tight, that you can actually see the outline of the genitals.  Surely, the problem with that is obvious.
            I know a woman who will not buy an item of apparel until she has looked at it in a mirror from every possible angle, with every possible movement, or had a friend watch her as she goes through the list in her head.  She is obsessed, some of you might think, and I guess she is—obsessed with keeping the way she presents herself to the world from putting the lie to, as the religious world likes to call it, her witness.  She is also concerned with causing her brother, or any man, to sin.  That sounds like Christian love to me, not obsession.  If you are sitting there thinking, "I can do as I please and it's their problem not mine," then maybe you should consider whether you love souls as a follower of Christ ought to.  Just as her Master gave up all, a Christian woman must give up a few things if she wears His name.  If a few items of clothing is all you have to give up, count yourself blessed.
 
So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God...just as I try to please everyone in everything I do, not seeking my own advantage, but that of many, that they may be saved (1Cor 10:31-33).
 
Dene Ward

More than once I have been outside weeding and accidentally pulled up a fistful of thorns.  Usually it’s a blackberry vine, though stinging nettles are not far behind on the list.  Either one makes for pain and blood loss for at least a little while and I try hard to look a little closer before the next pull.
            Not too long ago I saw a picture of a plant called “Crown of Thorns.”  It’s an import to our country, a type of cactus, but one that is notoriously picky about its surroundings.  You can only grow it in Zone 10 or higher, but once you get it going, it’s nearly impossible to kill.  It is heat and drought tolerant.  Long after other houseplants would have died from neglect, it will even bloom.
            The photos I saw made me think of the crown of thorns we are familiar with as Christians, the one the soldiers wove and placed upon Jesus’ head.  I doubt it was the same plant, but it looked as I imagined that one would, a thick stem covered with long sharp spines.  I cannot even imagine trying to weave the thing without leaving yourself a bloody mess.
           
            We sing a song with these lyrics by William Featherston:

1. My Jesus, I love Thee, I know Thou art mine;
   For Thee all the follies of sin I resign;
   My gracious Redeemer, my Savior art Thou;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
2. I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me,
   And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree;
   I love Thee for wearing the thorns on Thy brow;
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
3. I’ll love Thee in life, I will love Thee in death,
   And praise Thee as long as Thou lendest me breath;
   And say when the death dew lies cold on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.
4. In mansions of glory and endless delight,
   I’ll ever adore Thee in heaven so bright;
   I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow,
   If ever I loved Thee, my Jesus, ’tis now.

            I missed it all my life until Keith pointed out the thirds lines of verses 2 and 4.  “I love thee for wearing the thorns on thy brow,” and, “I’ll sing with the glittering crown on my brow.”  Jesus wore a crown of thorns so I could wear a crown of glory.  If it was anything like those plants I saw, it was a bigger sacrifice than one might ever have thought, but the symbolism is profound because everything he went through that horrible night was for me.  And you.  Even that prickly crown.
            Now, as his disciples, what sort of crown am I willing to wear for others?  Can I, as the Corinthians were chided to do, give up my liberties?  Can I concede a point even if I know I am right because in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter?  Can I stop an argument instead of continuing one?      Can I let someone else have the last word?
          Can I give up my time and convenience for the sake of someone who needs an encouraging word?  Can I skip a meal to visit the lonely?  Can I miss a ball game to hold a Bible study?
           Can I stay up a little later to pray a little longer?  Can I turn off the TV to spend some time in the Word?  Can I make teaching my children about God a priority instead of something we just try to fit in when we can?
            None of those things will cause the kind of bloodletting those thorns did, but if I cannot even do those paltry things, how can I even hope to wear that “glittering crown on my brow?”  If that makes me uncomfortable and ashamed, good.  That’s why we sing those songs.  They are to teach and admonish, not produce feel-good pep rallies.
         When I am weeding in the garden, I do my best to avoid the thorns.  Maybe in life, I should be out there looking for a few to wear.
 
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on his head and arrayed him in a purple robe, John 19:2
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will award to me on that Day, and not only to me but also to all who have loved his appearing, 2Tim 4:7-8.
 
Dene Ward

When I was a child, my piano teacher was a member of an organization, the benefits of which allowed her students to participate in several events, competitions, and joint recitals.  Fast forward twenty years and, as a piano and voice teacher myself, I rediscovered that organization and joined for the sake of my own students—and they ate it up.
            The stated purpose of the organization is “furthering music education and fostering a musical environment in our communities through the sponsorship of musical events and by providing performing opportunities for our talented and deserving young people.”  In other words, it is a service organization in the area of music.  It’s all about the cultural welfare of the community and the patronage of young artists.
            But as wonderful as that sounds, not every member “got it.”  As I became more and more involved at higher (district) and higher (state) levels, politics and self-aggrandizement reared their ugly heads.  Let me give you an example. 
            In their goal to spread music in the communities, local groups were encouraged to present programs open to the public in several areas:  opera, dance, American composers, women composers, and several others.  As motivation a plaque was awarded to the group who had done the best in each category based upon written reports sent to State Chairmen, complete with printed programs, photographs, and news items.
            One year I was one of those chairmen.  I received a dozen reports of outstanding programs all across the state in the opera category.  Truly every group deserved recognition for their efforts.  In fact, I could have easily made a case for the smallest group, and a rural one at that, because for their lack of resources both monetary and talent, their creativity in making opera palatable to a less cultured area of the state had been astounding.  But of course, it was not quite up to the big city group who had staged a full opera nor another urban organization who had managed to coax nationally acclaimed Met stars to appear.
            At the weekend of the awards I could not make the trip five hours south.  My husband had been shot in the line of duty and besides caring for him, I was also fending off the media and arranging appointments with doctors and lawyers and counselors.  So I sent my choice of winner and a letter of explanation for my absence.
            At nearly ten o’clock that evening I received a phone call from a member of one of the big city groups.  At first I thought, “How sweet.  Yes, it’s late, but she has just heard about our ordeal and is calling to check on us.”  But no, that was the last thing on her mind, if it was at all.  These were the first words out of her mouth:
            “I called to ask why we didn’t win the plaque this year.”
            Clearly this woman did not share the same goals as this organization.  To her it was about acclaim, about winning prizes, about being number one among her brothers and sisters.  And just as clearly, other people’s problems, no matter how dire, did not matter to her one bit.
            I hope that little story makes you shake your head in disgust, and after you have done that, ask yourself these questions:
            Why am I a Christian?
            Do I serve others?
            Do I do things for the church I assemble with, serving in whatever capacity is needed?
            And more to the point:
Have I ever been miffed because MY name wasn’t mentioned?
            Have I ever stopped speaking to someone who did not thank me as I thought I deserved?
            Have I ever stopped visiting or calling or helping someone who didn’t return the favor?
            Maybe we all need to remember the example the Lord set, not just that one night in the upper room washing even Judas’s feet, or even those hours on the cross, but every morning he opened his eyes on this earth among people who hated him, ridiculed him, assaulted him, tried to kill him, and eventually did.  And we need to remember why he did it.  It certainly wasn’t for a plaque!
            This organization he set up, the one he called “mine” (Matt 16:18) has a purpose that has nothing to do with my glory.  It is the greatest purpose of any group anywhere—the salvation of mankind, no matter what it takes from me in terms of service or sacrifice. 
            Yes, if we are faithful we will receive a prize.  But if the prize is the only reason we are doing it, then the prize is the very thing we will not receive.
 
So I endure all things for the sake of those chosen by God, that they too may obtain salvation in Christ Jesus and its eternal glory. 2Tim 2:10
 
Dene Ward

Many years ago we were wandering through a piano store looking for a light to go over the music stand on my own piano.  My parents had allowed me to take that one with me when I married, a Baldwin Acrosonic built in 1960 for which they paid $750.00, new.  As we meandered through the store waiting for a salesman to become free, I passed a mahogany studio grand and stopped in my tracks for a closer look.  It was a Knabe, the brand used by the Metropolitan Opera in those days, and the price tag said $5500.00.  No way, I thought.  This is a $20,000 instrument!  I sat down and ran through a Scarlatti sonata and the first movement of a Haydn.  The piano sounded and felt just fine.  What was going on?
            Finally the salesman made it over to us and showed us the piano lamp we had been looking at, but which had no price tag.  It clipped to the music stand so that the light was not on the back of the piano, but directly over the music, just like I wanted, and needed, for these eyes.  After a moment or two of research he came back with a price--$75.00!  As I said, this was many years ago and that represented nearly half of our weekly income.  I didn't even spend that much on groceries for a family of four back then.
            We were ready to walk out when Keith happened to ask about the grand and we got the whole story.  It had been willed to the University of Florida by an alumnus from Miami and it was a huge contrast to all the other brand spanking new pianos—it had a scratch here and there.  This one, we were told, came out at the turn of the 20th century because it had a chestnut core, and a blight hit the American chestnut first in 1904 and completely destroyed them within the next 40 years.  Yes, Knabes were great pianos and this one probably classified as an antique, but it just would not do on the stages of the University of Florida Music Department, which ultimately became a Steinway School of Music.  The university had traded it in on another new Steinway.  That accounted for the price.  For the average piano buyer, it was a steal, and it competed with the new ones on the floor.  The store owner simply wanted it sold as quickly as possible.
            Then Keith suddenly started dickering with the salesman about the piano.  I could not believe my ears.  We couldn't afford a $75.00 piano light, but he was talking about buying a $5500 piano?  I stood there in shock as he first got the salesman down to an even $5000, but that wasn't good enough for him—and it certainly wasn't good enough for our budget.  He mentioned our piano and asked about a trade-in. 
            Finally the salesman had to stop.  "I can't go any further," he said.  "You'll have to talk to the boss."
            And talk he did.  We left that place with a date for delivery, plus a $1000 trade-in (for one that had originally been $750!) off the new price of $4000, leaving $3000 for us to pay.  They threw the piano light in for nothing.  The next morning we would go to the bank for a loan, but on the way out of that store that afternoon, the news having reached him as he waited on another customer, the salesman called out, "Come back when you need another light!"
             So that's the story of how one of my dreams came true—a grand piano.  But the more important story is this:  Did you notice that the salesman was only authorized to do so much, and after that he had to go ask the boss?  In religion today, people scoff at authority.  Anyone who claims we need to have God's permission to do something is called a Pharisee, a legalist, or worse.  Yet every day we deal with the concept of authority and have no problem understanding it at all.  Who can sign your credit card?  Who can withdraw money from your bank account?  Yet people suddenly get up in arms when someone questions their right to change the worship God asked for, the method of salvation he demanded, or the life he requires us to lead.  If God does not have the authority to tell us how to do these things, then pray tell, who does?
            Most people think they do.  Perhaps you should consider that notion again if you find out someone has taken your credit card number and charged a few thousand dollars on it.  How can you complain when you don't think your Creator has the right to tell you how He wants to be worshipped, or what it would take to form a relationship with Him?  If that salesman had given us the deal the boss did, he would have probably been fired, and he knew it.  Why are we so smart everywhere except when dealing with the Almighty God?
 
And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of [by the authority of] the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (Col 3:17).
For all the peoples walk each in the name of its god, but we will walk in the name of the LORD our God forever and ever (Mic 4:5).
 
Dene Ward