When is the Bible like Watching T.V.? M. Laycock

Every now and then I like to “veg.” in front of the T.V. in the evening. I get comfortable, maybe have a cup of tea in hand, a blanket to curl up under. I find a movie or program that’s decent and settle in. But then they start – the food commercials. Dairy Queen blizzards, MacDonald’s toasted sandwiches, Tim Horton’s donuts! Nothing but food commercials! To someone who knows that anything through the lips after six goes right to the hips, it’s pure torture.

And then there’s the Bible - have you ever noticed how many times the Bible records that Jesus ate? It’s like watching TV. There’s food everywhere!

I hate it on television, but I love it in the Bible. Television commercials about food frustrate me because they make me hungry for all the wrong things. The stories of how Jesus ate with the people in the Bible bless me because they make me hungry for Him. In Matthew 9:10, for instance, Jesus invites Matthew the tax collector to follow him, then he goes to his home and eats with him. Then in Luke 14 and 15 we see him at the house of a well-known Pharisee, eating again. In Mark 14:3 we even see him eating in the home of a leper. Many times Jesus stops at the home of Mary and Martha, for a meal. Then there’s the famous scene with Zacchaeus in Luke 19:7 where Jesus invites himself to dinner. And there are the wonderful miracles of bread - those times when he nourished physically those who had been feeding on His words.

And there is the most famous dinner of all, the Passover meal, which has become our Communion, that incredible time, when Jesus invited his disciples to not just eat with Him, but eat of Him, in the spiritual sense. This communion is mimicked after His resurrection, in a town called Emmaus, where two of His disciples did not recognize him until He broke the bread; and again, when he prepared breakfast for the disciples on the seashore. I love that scene - there he was, waiting for them, waiting to serve them, to give them what their bodies needed and their souls longed for after a hard night’s work – His companionship.

The word companion is derived from the Latin for with – com – and bread – panis. Over and over again, Jesus demonstrated that He is our companion, the one who will eat with us, who will share his life with us. He says – “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me” (Rev. 3:20).

Next time the television makes you hungry for junk food, think about the One standing at the door, ready to truly satisfy your hunger.

Marcia Laycock won The Best New Canadian Christian Author Award for her novel, One Smooth Stone. Her devotionals have appeared in numerous magazines, newspapers and on the web. Visit her website - www.vinemarc.com

What Makes A Christian? - Jan Keats

Sometimes it seems that the world and Christianity go hand in hand. Or does Christianity display the morals of Christian living? What’s peculiar is that many people have differing answers. Let us explore different opinions and then discover what Jesus has to say.

Read Colossians 3: 1-14

What makes a Christian?

Is it going to church on Sunday?
Is it reading your Bible everyday?
Is it praying at a certain hour?
Is it paying your church every week?
Is it living a moral life?
Is it taking your kids to Sunday School?
Is it being kind to your neighbours?
Is it a person who claims to live right?
Is it those who obey the Ten Commandments?
Is it inviting someone to church?
Is it giving to the needy?
Is it a person who eat the right foods?
Is it an honest person?
Is it a person who does not feel the need to attend church make a Christian?
Is it a person who has an immaculate home?
Is it a person who obeys their parents?
Is it a person who offers thanksgiving to God for their meals?
Is it a person who kneels in prayer?
Is it a person who prays aloud?
Is it viewing Christian programming on television?
Is it resting on Sundays?
Is it attending Bible study?
Is it holding a straight attendance record at church or a church group?
Is it reading an inspirational book once a month?
Is it owning a Bible?
Is it a sober person?
Is it when a person quits smoking?

While most of these are essential, let’s dig into the Scriptures:

Colossians chapter three tells us that we must die to self and set our minds on things above, not on earthly things. We must put to death whatever belongs to our earthly nature and evil desires. Before the new life began, we indulged in earthly pleasures, pleasures that are not pleasing to God. We are told that if we look to God and live to the best of our ability to be like Jesus, we will also appear with Him in glory. It is out of earthly pleasures that the wrath of God is coming. To be a Christian, or to be like Christ we must rid ourselves of all evil ways and desires that we once had. Jesus is willing to make our vessels clean. He offers a new life. Christians are given a new life. When a person dies to self and lives for Christ, he can take off the old robe and put on the new.

When a person puts on the robe of Jesus, he is wearing something that will never decay. Jesus’ robe is eternal. There is no need to trade it or hand it down. He is bought and paid for and He is all we need. Christ is all and is in all.” (Colossians 3:11). To be a Christian God tells us to clothe ourselves with the fruits of the spirit, to live a Holy life and forgive one another. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them together in perfect unity!

Jan Keats

Baby Steps

Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” Matthew 14:29-31 (NIV)

The disciples are a long way from shore. A violent storm threatens to capsize and consume everyone aboard the small fishing boat as it is tossed to and fro on the swirling Sea of Galilee. An ethereal apparition appears to the distraught sailors. Fear begins to consume the motley crew until a voice commands their attention. Jesus says, "Do not be afraid. It is me."

Peter, in his usual brash and impetuous manner, says, "Lord, if it is really you then command me to come to you and walk on the water."

"All right," Jesus said. "Come along!"

Peter takes that first baby step but then starts to look at the billowing waves and choppy waters. He gets worried and takes his eyes of Jesus. That's when terror strikes. He begins to sink and feels the churning waters clutching and drawing him downward. Luckily Jesus is a mere arms length away and He reaches for Peter.

"Oh man of little faith," Jesus says to Peter. "Why on earth [or on water] did you doubt me?"

I'm thinking that how we hear these precious words of Jesus, holds insight into our own faith walk. Do we interpret these words as an angry rebuke or do we hear them as gentle encouragement from a loving parent who has seen His child walk for the first time? "Be careful my child...you are doing it. You almost made it. Now try it on your own and keep your eyes on me. Come on. You can do it. Reach for me. I am here...waiting for you."

No loving parent would ever scold their little one for attempting to walk for the first time. Instead they would encourage and be ready to catch their precious little one if they stumble. Just the same, Jesus wants us to succeed. He wants us to take that first baby step. He rejoices when we take steps of faith, even if they are small ones.

True faith begins when you take that first step. Climb out of the boat. Trust. Hold tight to Jesus.

Soon those toddling little baby steps will become strong, purposeful steps of faith as you keep your eyes on Jesus.

[Photo: Jocelyn - my sweet little 9 1/2 month old granddaughter, walked today for the first time! The steps were small but the feat of faith was great. I had a little reminder from my sweetheart granddaughter about trust today]

OUTAGES by Elsie Montgomery

Sandy’s computer screen went black, instantly. No flicker to warn her. She swore under her breath and glanced at the electric clock. It was off too, its face read 1:02. She turned off the power to her surge protector, got up, dumped her cold coffee and tried not to let the enormity of this raise her blood pressure.

“Arden Hills is a new subdivision. The power never goes off in the new areas,” said the cheerful voice at the power company. “Let me check for you.”

Sandy stared out the window listening to “hold” music that sounded piped from a funeral home and wondering if Jeff would get over his anger. She was almost able to laugh at his jealousy. Whatever gave him the idea she had time to entertain men during the day? Perhaps she was lonely — but men? Not this time. She learned her lesson. Patrick was from another era, another phase of life. She had outgrown her need to be romantically involved, to be the center of a man’s attention. Writing romance novels channeled her energies into sometime more productive — and profitable.

“I am sorry. You are right. The power is off in Arden Hills. Apparently someone hit a power pole out in that area. We apologize for the inconvenience and expect to have service restored as soon as possible.”

Inconvenience? It seemed like just another weird event added to an increasing and almost mysterious force trying to prevent her from getting any work done. I am glad the backup program on my word processor is set to save every two minutes. I didn’t lose much this time. Not like last month when the dog pulled the plug. Jeff didn’t believe me that time either. He thinks my work is held up because there is someone here all day.

She poured herself a glass of juice. I would never get into another one of those Patrick things. He hurt my marriage and nearly destroyed me. And I thought he was just what I needed. The worst of it is trying to recover . . . never mind Jeff acting more weird every day. The next thing he will be doing is phoning from work on the hour, every hour.

Sandy laughed again. If Jeff wasn’t such a tightwad, he would. His office was just out of their telephone area. Each call would cost about a dollar, maybe more. She knew his thriftiness overruled hiring a private detective.

She walked through the house to the front living room and looked out the window. Funny, that dark green Buick is just like the one Patrick used to drive. She watched it for a few minutes then saw two people with briefcases emerge from her neighbor’s house across the street and get into the Buick. They looked like morticians or maybe Jehovah’s Witnesses. Well, at least Patrick wasn’t into either of those pursuits, and thankfully, neither is Jeff. In spite of his raging jealousy, he is sensible and definitely not a religious fanatic.

In a few minutes, the power came on. Sandy sat down at her keyboard. She thought about Jeff. He wasn’t religious but he was becoming obnoxious with his suspicions. I can’t help it if the power goes off or the dog likes power cords. I can’t do anything about hard drive failure and my mother calling every two days. My, that woman likes to talk. Not that I am any different. I have to admit that I spend more time on the phone with Gail and Louella than I should. I guess I am the reason the story is not finished. She opened her notebook and tried to pick up where her computer blanked out.

Jeff watched the tow truck hoist his car and pull away. The power pole was down but not completely sheared. He wondered how he only managed to scratch the back of his hand when his car would likely be a write-off.

That was not the worst of it. How would he explain to Sandy what he was doing out here in the mid-afternoon when he was supposed to be working? How could he tell her he had come to check on her every day this week and now thought his fears were confirmed? How could he let her know that he ran into a power pole while talking on his cell phone to a friend in Motor Vehicles, tell her that he knew a Reverend Paul Moses was the registered owner of the car that was parked in front of his house, every day, for several weeks? How could he tell her he was melting down with fear and rage every time he saw a green Buick? Did she already know?

Worse yet, he found himself talking to himself, now, aloud, on the sidewalk. How can I admit to her that I my attitude pressured her into this? I know I cause her writer’s block; I know that. But now I’ve caused even worse, another green Buick and one more jerk, religious or not, whose name begins with P. This is all my fault.

He felt dizzy. He began walking, wondering which way was home. Would Sandy say come in, or would the green Buick still be outside? Would she forgive him? Would she understand? Or would she laugh in his face and leave him for Paul? Will I ever get this husband thing right? And why do I feel so odd? And why is the sun setting so early in the day?
--------------------------------
Sorry to leave you hanging, but short story is sometimes about making readers think, and loose ends often have that effect! Elsie