Everything had to be explained to me when I was six years old. This is true for everyone. Yet, for many adults there seems to be the belief that there are some things that we just know instinctively. We started going to church when I was five, and we didn’t just go to church on Sunday morning. We were there every time the doors were opened. I didn’t know anything that was going on or what it was all about. I just knew that Sunday morning, Sunday night and Wednesday night were the most dreaded times of the week for me. Boring. Sit up straight, put down that hymn book unless you are going to sing, don’t make a sound and do not, under any circumstance, fall asleep! I think my parents were doing the church thing to try and save their marriage. If so, it didn’t work. My father’s church going lasted about two years and my mother made it another three years, but then it ended. I knew just about as much at five as I did at ten. In other words, I didn’t learn a thing.

But back to being six years old. It was my first Easter as a church goer, just as the previous Christmas had been my first Christmas in church. Years later my mother told me that before that, when I was really little, she took my sisters and myself to the Lakeside Church of God, but my oldest sister told me a few days later that we went for the Easter egg hunt. However, the year I was six is the first time I remember hearing the story about the death, burial and resurrection. The first time I heard it, though, it was absent some facts. Facts like; why did it happen, what did it mean, how does it affect me and why am I coloring a piece of paper of a man hanging on what looked like a clothes line post? It made no sense to me at all. So, I asked my mother, who was my primary source of information. Her answer had something to do with me being a bad boy, so this Jesus had to die for me. WHAT? Jesus died because I was bad? Yes, I was told, so I had better be good from now on. WHAT? Was He going to killed again? That got me a stern look. Or, or, or can He be uncrucified if I am good? That actually got me paddled. As a young man in Bible college I sat down with my mother one evening when I was home from Tennessee and reminded her of that moment. I asked her why I had gotten paddled. “You know why. You were being sassy about Jesus! Should’ve spanked you harder.”

Anyway, that first Easter was so weird. It was 1962. My sisters had new outfits. Some of the women wore pretty hats. The pastor was yelling about someone who climbed out of a grave. His wife (sister Tillie) was waving her arms, shouting ‘AMEN’ and weeping and wailing. It was, well, it was bizarre to a six year old. Clutched in my little hands was a picture of a man hanging on a clothesline post and I was supposed to know what this was all about. What I really wanted to do was get home and dig into my Easter basket. As it happened, that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

Over the next few years I dreaded that holiday. The next year, when I was seven, I colored a picture of a hole in the rock with another big rock laying close by. I had no idea what it was. Maybe I wasn’t listening in Sunday School, but I can’t imagine that, really. I was a good listener. I think my teacher was just not making it understandable. She was in high school and was always talking with my oldest sister about this boy or that boy in her school. Going into the church after Sunday School, the pastor ranted about a man climbing out of the grave, his wife wailed and shouted ‘AMEN’ and all the ladies were dressed up. The difference that year, though, was that after church people were flocking over to the pastor’s son (Little Johnny) who was selling something. When we got into the car each of us kids were handed a small square piece of clear plastic with a splinter imbedded in the plastic. On one edge of the plastic was a small metal loop that had been screwed into the plastic so that you could run a fine chain or a string through the loop and wear the plastic like jewelry. Along with each little plastic square was a small piece of paper on which there were typed words that said the splinter inside was a small piece of the actual cross of Christ. My mother had bought four of these things for $5.00 dollars each. Seems the pastor had come across these amazing artifacts and was passing them onto his congregation. $5.00 a piece in the early 1960s was a pretty steep investment. But, you got an actual piece of the cross! Bought on Easter Sunday! Neither of my sisters seemed very impressed and my father was disgusted that my mother spent $20.00 on cheap plastic, but I was fascinated. I was a believer in those splinters, at least for a while. But, I had questions.

Where did these pieces of wood come from? The cross, Dummy. (My oldest sister.) OK, sure, but where was the cross being kept? I dunno. I guess Israel. OK, but this was a long time ago. How come the wood didn’t rot? It is holy wood, Dummy. (Oldest sister again.) If you call your brother a dummy one more time, so help me I am pulling over and coming back there! (My father.) This shut all of us up. At home, though, I asked my younger sister, who was three years older than me and seemed pretty smart. Hey, Debbie, how did they get that splinter in there. I dunno. Looks like they put it on one piece of plastic and glued another piece of plastic on that. Oh, yeah, sure. Did they wash the blood off? I don’t see no blood. Debbie looked at me only as an older sister can look at her idiot brother. Look, Dummy, (I thought that was my real name for a long time) it really isn’t a piece of the cross. It is just a piece of wood. Mom paid twenty bucks for this junk. She thinks it’s real. It’s just junk.

I was devastated. In fact, I didn’t believe her. But then, I thought about it. It did seem hard to believe. You could see the glue marks. The little ‘letters of authenticity’ were typed on cheap paper and on an old typewriter. Mom had believed the pastor and had been duped.

Our father stopped going to church that day, except for special events. We kids had to go for a few more years, but our mother eventually became disillusioned. I developed a very negative attitude about church. They only wanted your money and they really liked to scare people. From the time I was ten until I was seventeen, I only went to church when my Aunt Arie and Uncle Rueben came to visit from their farm in Montpelier, Indiana. They were the kind of people who went to church on Sunday, regardless of where they were. Also, Aunt Arie had a real desire to see her brother (my father) come to Jesus.

Then, in June 1973 I was at a Fellowship of Christian Athletes’ camp in Ohio. There, the Gospel was explained in a way that a seventeen year old guy could understand. It was there I accepted Christ as Savior. After I got home, I went a couple of times to the old church I had attended some years earlier. The pastor screamed and ranted, Sister Tillie wept and wailed, no one said a word to me. It just wasn’t real. I could feel it. Then I went to the church just down the road from me and found my home. The first Easter season after I accepted Christ, I came to understand about the cross, I came to understand about the suffering and the beating and the torture, I came to understand about the Resurrection. The Sacrifice made sense. It was all done for me.

We have made Resurrection into something it is was never meant to be. It is called Easter, but that is not a Biblical word. Easter came from the Roman Catholic church when they absorbed other pagan religions. Easter was the celebration of the goddess Estre. The goddess Estre was (is) the goddess of fertility. In the history books and old sculptures, she is often portrayed with two rows of breasts down each side, like a dog or a cat. We celebrate with eggs and rabbits, which were a part of the pagan worship. You perhaps already know, but Easter doesn’t always fall on Resurrection Day, but it does always fall on the day dedicated to the worship of Estre (which is where we get ‘Easter’). In honor of the fertility goddess the people used rabbits and eggs in their worship, hiding the eggs and letting the children find them. Resurrection has nothing to do with any of that, yet we persist in not only using the name but in using the elements of worship as well.

Celebrate Resurrection Day with us on Sunday. Or, if you aren’t in Northeast Indiana, find a church that is focusing on the true story of the greatest day in all history.

Blessings.

          I had heard a lot about Miss Virginia. She was getting old and feeble. She could seldom come to church. It was such a struggle. That wasn’t an excuse, either. She was in constant pain. She could walk around her house because she knew where everything was and where the next piece of furniture was that she could use to steady herself but walking anywhere else was a major problem. I had not met her yet because she had been sick and unable to be in church, but now, three weeks after being called to the little church up on the hill, I was pulling into her drive.

               She sat in her porch rocker, a heavy sweater on and an afghan across her lap. It was an early summer day in the panhandle of Florida. Plenty warm for me, but for her that bright day it was chilly. She knew I was coming, so there was a pitcher of ice tea on a small table in front of her, and some sweet breads. As I walked up the steps she greeted me in the sweetest voice one could imagine.

          “Well, Pastor Wade, it is a delightful pleasure to meet you! Please sit down and take some tea with me.” First visit. Trying to remember what we had been taught about consideration for the elderly on a visit. Just stay a short while, don’t get comfortable, have a word of prayer and a firm but gentle handshake.

“Miss Virginia, it is a true pleasure to meet you, as well. However, my schedule is such today that I can stay only for a bit. Perhaps I take that tea at a later visit.” Just like they had taught us in school. Considerate of their time.

“Oh my goodness, Pastor! You must have misunderstood me. You will sit right here next to me, we will drink this pitcher of tea, we will eat these little cakes and we will watch for my deer in the woods while we chat. Sit down!”

Funny, really, that this approach hadn’t been taught in school. I sat. I drank two glasses of the sweetest tea that had ever been brewed. I ate sweet breads that were a bit scorched on the bottom. I rocked in a creaky, but surprisingly comfortable wooden rocker and I spotted three deer while having the most wonderful conversation with the most delightful lady I had ever met. When I did finally get up to leave, Miss Virginia told me I would be back again the next week. I started to protest, but she fixed me with this tiny little glare. I just said, “Yes Ma’am.”

It was at one of these visits that I learned of the tradition. When Miss Virginia was a little girl her mother taught her how to play the piano. Around the age of nine the little girl became the church’s piano player. She loved music and she loved playing the old hymns. More than that, though, she loved her Savior. She was not much for Christmas music, but anything that talked about the Resurrection simply thrilled her spirit. She particularly loved “Christ Arose.” Every Easter Sunrise some of the men would put the old upright piano on casters and roll it out to the front porch of the church and, just as the sun came into the sky, the little girl would begin to play quietly. “Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior. Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!” Then the chorus would be cranked up pretty well. “UP FROM THE GRAVE HE AROSE! WITH A MIGHTY TRIUMPH O’ER HIS FOES; HE AROSE A VICTOR FROM THE DARK DOMAIN, AND HE LIVES FOREVER WITH HIS SAINTS TO REIGN…..HE AROSE! HE AROSE!! HALLELUJAH! CHRIST AROSE!”

The next two verses would be delivered in the same manner. A couple of the old timers who were older than Miss Virginia were still left when I was there and one sweet older man named Darius told me that Miss Virginia, even as a little girl, would weep as she played the song. All those years later, Miss Virginia told me her version of the story. In her version the people insisted that she play the song, both at Sunrise and to close the morning worship. “They just love that song.” Nothing about how much she loved it nor the intensity with which she played it. “And do you know, Pastor. They still insist I come on Easter and play that song to close the service. I can’t come out for Sunrise anymore, but if they have to carry me into the church and then up to the piano, I guess I’ll have to play it. Just don’t understand. Sally (the ‘new’ piano payer for the last twelve years) plays it just fine.”

Any one I talked to about it said that Miss Virginia’s playing of that song made their Resurrection Day. Even Sally. She told me she never wanted to play it because she loved hearing Miss Virginia play. I found myself really looking forward to Easter.

Sunrise service Sally played the song. It really was glorious. We had maybe thirty people gathered in front of the church and they were all singing for the heavens. We went in and had coffee and sweet breads and had a really good fellowship. Church came and it was a wonderful Easter service with the choir singing a cantata. The cantata wasn’t great, but it sounded fine on that morning. And then the service was ready to close. Miss Virginia sat on the front pew. Sally helped her to her feet and walked her the few feet to the piano. In that church the pastor led the music. Almost anyone would have done a better job than me. The old piano player who loved to play but who was so uncertain of her abilities and the young pastor who could have done without music altogether prepared to lead a congregation that was leaning forward in expectation.

We began, quietly;

Low in the grave He lay—Jesus my Savior!
Waiting the coming day —Jesus my Lord!

Now the piano and the voices began to boom;

UP FROM THE GRAVE HE AROSE!
WITH A MIGHTY TRIUMPH O’ER HIS FOES!
HE AROSE A VICTOR FROM THE DARK DOMAIN!
AND HE LIVES FOREVER WITH HIS SAINTS TO REIGN!
HE AROSE! HE AROSE!
HALLELUJAH! CHRIST AROSE!

Even though Miss Virginia had never practiced this together, I knew to get quiet;

Vainly they watch His bed—Jesus my Savior!
Vainly they seal the dead—Jesus my Lord!

Here the crescendo began again;

UP FROM THE GRAVE HE AROSE!
WITH A MIGHTY TRIUMPH O’ER HIS FOES!
HE AROSE A VICTOR FROM THE DARK DOMAIN!
AND HE LIVES FOREVER WITH HIS SAINTS TO REIGN!
HE AROSE! HE AROSE!
HALLELUJAH! CHRIST AROSE!

Now it got very quiet;

Death cannot keep his prey—Jesus my Savior!
He tore the bars away—Jesus my Lord!

And now, like the shouting of triumphant angels, piano and congregation lifted their sound as a joyous noise to the Lord, so intense my pulpit began to vibrate;

UP FROM THE GRAVE HE AROSE!
WITH A MIGHTY TRIUMPH O’ER HIS FOES!
HE AROSE A VICTOR FROM THE DARK DOMAIN!
AND HE LIVES FOREVER WITH HIS SAINTS TO REIGN!
HE AROSE! HE AROSE!
HALLELUJAH! CHRIST AROSE!

          Wow.

          Tuesday morning after Easter Miss Virginia’s nephew, Gerald, started banging on my door around 6 AM. He went over every morning to get the coffee on and get the house warm so she could start her day. “You gotta come quick, Preacher! Aunt Virginia isn’t breathing and she’s cold!” I jumped in Gerald’s truck and Marsha followed in a few minutes with the baby. Gerald had made a phone call for the ambulance and had called one of the ladies in the church, a close neighbor, before he left the house. Miss Virginia lived about five minutes from us, so not much time had passed, but the yard was full of cars and trucks. When we rushed into the house, a local pastor that everyone loved and who was now newly retired, stood over Miss Virginia holding her hand, tears running down his face. Believe it or not, his last name was Christmas and his parents must have thought it quite cute to name him Merry. He was loved and greatly respected in the community, not unlike Larry Ray. I didn’t feel ready to deal with everyone else’s grief when I had so much of my own, so I was perfectly happy to see Merry there. He looked up and motioned me over. “These are your people, my friend.” He placed Miss Virginia’s hand in mine then whispered to me, “Pray with your people.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but Merry gave me a great gift that morning. Right there I went from being a 28 year old ‘preacher boy’ to being their pastor. At the time, however, my heart was breaking.

          We closed the funeral in the church with Sally proving she was a worthy successor to Miss Virginia as she played “Christ Arose” with all the feeling Miss Virginia had put into it, but the singing was muffled. Most of the people there, including the young pastor leading the music, were trying to sing as they cried. We buried Miss Virginia in the cemetery behind the church she loved.

          I have always loved Sunrise service. In Ohio we would go to a particular bluff overlooking Lake Erie. Always a little group. Usually the Lake was still iced over, so it was always cold. But one of our ladies played the trumpet. As the sun would break and turn the surface of the ice an incredible red, “Christ Arose” would stream from her trumpet and eight or ten or fifteen very cold people would raise their voices once more. “Low in the grave He lay, Jesus my Savior. Waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!”  

          Easter morning, April first, at Speicher Cemetery this year at 7:15, we will gather to witness the blessedness of the rising sun as it begins to lighten the earth. We will feel the wonder the ladies felt on that first Resurrection Day when they realized something amazing had happened. And, we will lift our voices in triumph with the words to “Christ Arose.” After, we will come back to the church and have a fellowship in Parish Hall. Come and join us.

            Blessings.

          It is Spring! Or it will be tomorrow. No matter. The days are chilly, but that beats bone numbing cold. Right now, there is no snow on the ground, but that could quickly change. Yesterday the handicap ramp at the church had patches of ice on it, but that was taken care of…………It Is Spring! Or at least it will be tomorrow.

          The old saying is that in Spring a young man’s fancy turns to love. I always assumed the word ‘fancy’ meant thoughts of things you wanted. I still think that is the right interpretation. That would be fine for some weird guys, I suppose, but for me as a young guy my ‘fancy’ turned to baseball. Who needs ‘love’ when you can have a white ball against a blue sky? Or, in the case of northeast Ohio, a white ball buried and lost in the snow.

          I actually do not remember ever dating anyone during the Spring until I met Marsha. I broke up with a couple of girls just before baseball started so I wouldn’t have to waste time dating. I think the only reason Marsha made it through that first Spring was because she would go and watch the games. She seemed to instinctively know that if she ever said something like ‘You like baseball more than you like me’ she would have been proven right, at least that first year. There is just something so defining in the sound of a bat hitting a ball. SPRING! Feeling a hot grounder snugging into your glove. SPRING! Hearing the sound of a baseball smacking the first baseman’s glove at the same moment the batter’s foot smacks the bag. SPRING! I love Spring.

          When Marsha and I moved to Miami, I really missed Spring. Oh, they said they had Spring, but it wasn’t like home. One time in Miami, during an early morning walk, I actually slipped on some ice from the rain the night before. One time. When you live in that kind of environment, how can you really appreciate changes in the seasons? Flowers bloom year round there. That’s nice. But to see a crocus fighting to bloom, now that is Spring! Back then the Baltimore Orioles did spring training in Miami. That was the only real harbinger of Spring. The Orioles came back. Back in Ohio the leaves changed color and fell, the winds came and the snows followed. You became tired of the snow and then, bit by bit, Spring began to make its way back. By the time it was there in its full glory, you were ready for it. Miami went from unbearably hot to really hot to hot then to warm and then you started over. Whole different thing in the North.

          In 1997 the Cleveland Indians had their home opener cancelled because of snow and then there was a World Series game at the end of the season there that was called on the account of snow. That is what makes the season changes so great here in the North. You appreciate the change.

          So, yes, it is Spring! Or it will be tomorrow. With Spring comes Resurrection Day (or Easter, take your pick). The high on Resurrection Day is to be 48 degrees and partly sunny!

          IT IS SPRING! Or it will be tomorrow.

One of our ladies told me two Sundays ago that a Jehovah Witness had come to her door with some literature and invited her to a commemoration/memorial of the death of Christ. As far as I can recall, I have not addressed the Witnesses since I have been at this Indiana church and I know for sure I have never brought them up in this blog. Most Christians know that their beliefs are different from ours, but for most, it is just that they are pacifists and do not serve in the military, do not celebrate birthdays, including Christ’s birthday, use a different Bible, believe something about the 144,000 people mentioned in the Book of the Revelation and they call God by the name Jehovah. Other than that, most are pretty much ignorant on the movement.

But they are very different. The differences are not like some of the differences that separate some of our Christian denominations. We often disagree on things like the basic meaning of baptism or how often we should take the Lord’s Supper, but the differences in the Jehovah’s Witnesses and Christianity are severe enough that the Witnesses are actually a cult when set against Christianity.

One of the principle differences, and the difference from which all other differences stem, is their concept of authority. The would say that their authority is the Scripture. But the reality is much different. The Witnesses have a very active publishing house which produces a large quantity of printed material. ‘The Watchtower” and “Awake” magazines are the most common, but they also have a lot of books and booklets that are largely given away. Make Sure of all Things, Reasoning from the Scriptures, Let God be True, Aid to Bible Understanding, The New World, The Truth Shall Make You Free, Your Will Be Done on Earth, Children and others that seem to change every five years or so. The books were written by members of their Council of Elders and so everything contained therein has the same basic authority as Scripture. In their magazines, if an article is written by a Council member, it, too, has great authority. Of all their publications, the most insidious is a seven volume set called Studies in the Scriptures. This is in the guise of a commentary set on the Bible, but it has been written by a former President of the Witnesses that if one just read the Bible (which they call The New World Translation) and didn’t read Studies in the Scriptures, they could not possibly understand the Bible. But, if they read the Studies in the Scriptures and never opened up the Bible, they would have a full understanding of Scripture.

The Jehovah Witnesses were the subject of my seminary thesis in comparative religions. Like most people, I went into the study with little real knowledge of this religious group. I came away from it with a very heavy heart. They are told in their training sessions that they are not to listen to you when you explain your faith. In fact, they are not supposed to give you time to explain your faith. They are told that to listen to you is a sin, and since their form of salvation is based on works, this can keep them from Paradise. The real reason, however, is that their beliefs are paper thin and cannot stand up to reasonable discourse. To test this, the next time a Witness comes to your door, offer to swap time with them. You will listen to them for 30 minutes without interrupting if they will listen to you for 30 minutes without interrupting, as you both explain your faith. Since it is your house, you insist you go first. Most of the time, they will not accept your terms. However, if you are going to do this, rest assured that they will have 30 minutes ready in their minds. Will you?

Following are twenty five items that separate their beliefs from ours that go directly against the Bible. Just so you know who they are.

1.              There is one God in one person. We also believe there is one God, but we say that He is manifested in three forms, God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit. They say that these are actually three different gods. Which leads to the belief that there is no Trinity.

2.              The Holy Spirit is a force, not alive. We cannot be led guided or directed by the Holy Spirit.

3.              Jehovah's first creation was his 'only-begotten Son' and was used by Jehovah in creating all other things. Which on the surface doesn’t sound to wrong. Except for the fact that Jesus wasn’t created. According to Scripture, Jesus is in all respects God. If God was not created, neither was Jesus. Still God’s Son, but not created. Can I explain this odd fact? No, I cannot. I accept it on faith.

4.              Jesus was Michael the archangel who became a man. Michael was a completely different creature, Biblically speaking. Angels are not divine. In fact, humans are called a little higher creation than angels. Just using the Bible as our guide, if Jesus was actually Michael, we humans would be higher than Jesus.

5.              Jesus was only a perfect man, not God in flesh. They say that Jesus was not divine, but they also say that the 144,000 are divine.

6.              Jesus did not rise from the dead in his physical body. He rose as a spirit. This is why one of our ladies was invited to a memorial for Jesus. He is dead. His spirit remains, but He is dead.

7.              Jesus and Satan are actually brothers, separated by Satan’s fall. This comes from the teaching that Jesus is actually Michael the archangel. Before the fall of Satan he was Lucifer, also, they believe, an archangel and therefore, the brother of Jesus.

8.              Jesus had to come to faith of God and have sufficient works to have His spirit to rise to God. In other words, Jesus had to be saved.

9.              Jesus did not die on a cross but on a stake. This one of the bizarre little twists that makes no sense. Why do they claim a stake over a cross? Yet, in their literature, including the New World Translation, where they have an illustration of the death of Christ, they have a large pole stuck in the ground and a man impaled on it. Think a telephone pole with no cross bars on it and the top of it sharpened to a point. The point has pierce through the chest of the man on it, coming out through his heart. Going through his heart, the man would be dead. No last words, no giving his mother over to his friend to be cared for. No suffering beyond the initial thrust. Historically speaking, the Romans never used this form of execution. Their styles always included punishment as well as execution. They say that this is plain from the Greek, but the Greek text they claimed to have used for a translation base uses the word Σταυρός, which is the Greek word for cross. The Greek word for stake is πάσσαλος and appears nowhere in the Bible. The words are totally different, so it cannot be claimed to be a mistranslation. There is a reason, though. It is coming up in a bit.

10.           Jesus began his invisible rule over the earth in 1914. Charles Taze Russell, the founder of the Jehovah Witnesses, had written extensively about 1914 being the end of the world. Of course, the world did not end in 1914, so they had to come up with something. They solved this by saying that the old world ended and now Jesus is ruling the new world. At first, they said there would never be another war. In just a very short time, World War One broke upon the world, so that was shot. Actually, there have been two other end of the world prophecies since 1914 that haven’t worked out, so they have become even more creative.

11.           Jesus' ransom sacrifice did not include Adam or Eve. This is completely contrary to Scripture, which tells us that Jesus died for all. Their reasoning is that Adam and Eve sinned willfully and cannot therefore, be redeemed. If you follow that reasoning through to its logical conclusion, all sin since has been out of our control.

12.           Their church is the self-proclaimed prophet of God. Only they have the truth.

13.           They claim to be the only channel of God's truth. Not only are they the truth, they are the only ones that can express the truth. Not even our Bible.

14.           Only their church members will be saved. No one else will be have a chance. However, their concept of salvation is different from ours. 144,000, who have all been preordained from the beginning of time, will go to heaven. All other Jehovah Witnesses who have done good jobs, will be allowed to live in Paradise here on earth, which is still a pretty good deal.

15.           Good works are necessary for salvation. This is why they work so hard at getting their message across. They have to in order to get to spend eternity in Paradise, which is different from heaven.

16.           The soul ceases to exist after death. There are Christian groups that teach ‘soul sleep’ at death until the Resurrection, then the soul comes awake. The Witnesses teach that the soul dies. Hard to even conceive.

17.           There is no hell of fire where the wicked are punished. No one likes to think of a fiery hell, but it is in the Bible, as well as a Lake of Fire, which is a different place serving the same function. Also, it is in their Scripture. To them, it is all symbolic. So, what happens to those of us who do not embrace their theology? Our bodies will be destroyed in an instant and that will be it. No punishment other than the few seconds it takes to be destroyed. Since the soul is dead, there will be no suffering. Nothing to worry about.

18.           Only 144,000 Jehovah's Witness go to heaven. Originally, Charles Taze Russell said that when all 144,000 had been born, the world would end. This was prophesized to be in 1914. Supposedly, the number was reached then because the world ended and Jesus began His invisible rule over the earth. But, there are thousands who believe they are part of the 144,000 now. It has created a lot of confusion and is a question they don’t like to get into. The number of 144,000 is only mentioned twice in the Bible, including their Bible. Once in Revelation 7 and once in Revelation 14. In their Studies of the Scriptures the verses that are referenced are just the verses that concern the number. Revelation 7:4---And I heard the number of the sealed, 144,000, sealed from every tribe of the sons of Israel: and Revelation 14:1-3---Then I looked, and behold, on Mount Zion stood the Lamb, and with him 144,000 who had his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. And I heard a voice from heaven like the roar of many waters and like the sound of loud thunder. The voice I heard was like the sound of harpists playing on their harps, and they were singing a new song before the throne and before the four living creatures and before the elders. No one could learn that song except the 144,000 who had been redeemed from the earth. There Bible says the same thing. They teach that the 144,000 refers to the redeemed as Witnesses. Men and women. However, if you read all the verses in those passages rather than those four verses, you will find that these are witnesses, but not Jehovah Witnesses. They are witnessing the work and power of Christ. You will also find out that these 144,000 are redeemed Jews. They are all men. They are all virgins.

19.           Only the 144,000 may take communion. You know if you are part of this number and if you are not. If you are a part of this number you are sealed, therefore, you do not have to go door to door and you can take Communion.

20.           Blood transfusions are a sin. You could be receiving tainted blood of a non-Witness.

21.           The Cross is a pagan symbol and should not be used. Actually, the cross symbol existed way before Christ in pagan theologies. This goes all the way back to a ruler named Nimrod who founded the ancient city of Nineveh. The cross symbol was a very minor religious symbol. It was not, though, a religious symbol to the Romans. Just a devious method of execution. This is why they say Jesus was killed on a stake rather than a cross.

22.           Salvation is by faith and what you do. Faith and works.

23.           Each of the 6 creative days of God in Genesis 1 was 7000 years long. The Hebrew word translated in the English Bible for ‘day’ is extremely close to the word for ‘eon,’ a much longer period of time. This is a much discussed point in theology. However, where the 7,000 year period for eon came from is anyone’s guess. Using this idea, man would have been created at 42,000 years. Since this has been around since the beginning of the Jehovah Witnesses (1876), it has to be assumed that this was an attempt to incorporate evolution into the mix. Early on in the study of evolution, the vast amounts of time we have today were much shorter.
24.    They also refuse to vote, salute the flag, sing the "Star Spangled Banner," or celebrate Christmas or birthdays. They are not allowed to serve in the armed forces. They will, however, take the Christmas bonus at work and they will enjoy and accept all the rights and liberties earned by those who have served in the armed services and those who have participated in government exercise.

25.           Satan, when he was Lucifer, was entrusted with the obligation and charged with the duty of overseeing the creation of the earth. Which means, if they believe God created the earth as they say they do, Satan oversaw God’s work.

Understand, I am not attacking these people. I am just telling you what they believe. They are led and empowered by Satan to corrupt the church of the Lord.

          Bible college was a pretty neat experience for me. It started in January, 1975, in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Chattanooga isn’t a real big town. Fort Wayne has about 100,000 more people. But that is where my educational odyssey began. At first, I lived in a dorm with a bunch of guys, but eventually I returned to Ohio and married a new roommate. Marsha had grown up in Cleveland, Ohio, so for her Chattanooga was a quaint, little town. I had grown up in Perry, Ohio, so for me Chattanooga was a sprawling metropolis. It remains one of the most special places on earth to us even now. We have even talked about retiring there one day.

           College introduced me to a lot of new ideas. It was a Bible college, but it was also a liberal arts college. I majored in both theology and history, with an eye on teaching one day. I wanted to be a Christian teacher and coach who also served in a church in some capacity. God took us on a different path, but that is another story. The point here is that I had a pile of text books. At that time it was not a thing to carry a backpack or a briefcase on campus. That would come later. You carried your textbooks, as well as notebooks and pens, everywhere in your arms. History, math, English, speech. And, buried in that group of textbooks, was your Bible. In that type of atmosphere, the Bible became another textbook to read and then set aside once you read your assignment.

          In seminary it was the same basic thing. I was more focused on future plans, but there were still a lot various textbooks. Books on languages, music theory, Christian education, Biblical history, Biblical backgrounds, missions, homiletics, more English, more history, more speech. Marsha was always lugging around a ton of books, too, so when we shared a class I would carry some of her books. Somewhere in that double armload of books, would be my Bible. Another textbook. Read the assignment, set it aside, pick up the history book.

          That is not saying that it was no more important than the others. I have always felt the Bible is the most important book in existence. There was just so much to read and consume. So many things, like music theory and English and Christian education, that I saw no point in. (But which I use all the time.) The Bible was the whole point to me. There was just so much……

          In 1985 we were commissioned by the Southern Baptist Convention as home missionaries through the Home Mission Board. (Now called the North American Mission Board, which sounds so much cooler.) We wound up in a city in Ohio, right on the Pennsylvania line, that was almost completely Roman Catholic. Evangelical Christianity was something that just didn’t exist there. A house had been converted into a church and that was our building. Twenty five on a good Sunday, but we were sharing the Gospel.

          Everything was a struggle. Being in a new church start can be extremely frustrating. My office was in what had been an upstairs bedroom when the church building had been a home. Many nights after our four year old had been put to bed, I would walk down the very substantial hill we lived on to the office and settle in to study for either my sermon or Bible study class. It seemed a lonely existence.

          One particular night I needed to study, but I also needed to write my monthly report to the Home Mission Board about our activities. If our activities didn’t meet their standards, we would lose funding. Completely understandable, but also very stressful. I told Marsha not to wait up.

          I settled into my chair at my desk and pulled out my Bible and three or four commentaries. Textbooks. I started with the passage I wanted to preach from. As I read the passage I started to reach for a commentary. As I did so, another passage came to mind. They had a similarity. I read that passage and saw that they were more than just similar. They were connected. One passage in the Old Testament, one in the New. As I read the second another popped into my mind, and then another. Now, it is important here to understand what was happening. When I was ordained I stood in front of a committee of twenty eight men for forty five minutes answering one Biblically related question after another. Some of those men were my professors. I wasn’t even allowed to have a Bible in hand to reference. When I quoted a passage, it had to be exact. They all had Bibles in front of them. Marsha said it was brutal, and it was hard. But, I knew the Bible. It was my most important textbook. It was all there in my mind.

          However, it had become a textbook. That night, though, the Bible became alive to me! I couldn’t seem to stop. One passage led to another. It was overwhelming. It had always been real to me, in an intellectual sense. There, that night, all that changed. It became the Word of God!  

          The next thing I knew, my chest was throbbing and my breath was coming in little gasps. I fell to the floor, facedown, with my arms stretched above my head. I was thanking God and at the same time seeking forgiveness for handling the Word so callously. All my study and all the resulting knowledge, yet it had never connected. How could that be? Everything is so connected, so beautifully aligned, so complete; how could I have missed it?

          I had read the Bible. In college we had to read it through every semester, from Genesis 1:1 to Revelation 22:21. I had read the Bible a lot. But it had never really started to live in me.

          So what brought all this up?

          Preparing for this week’s sermon I read a passage that I had read that night over thirty years ago that changed everything for me. It wasn’t the passage that started the chain, but it was involved. As I read it, my heart soared once more. The best time in preparation is when your heart takes off.

          Sometimes when we study, we are hampered by our references. Read the Word first then look at your reference material.

          John 19:25---But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Just as a point of information, in many translations the name Clopas is rendered Cleophas. Same name, Clopas in Greek and Cleophas in Hebrew. Anyway, just reading that verse there appears to be three women at the cross. And, in fact, many commentaries say there were three women listed in John. Mary, the mother of Jesus and her sister Mary, who was the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. The only odd thing there is that Mary had a sister named Mary. Families didn’t have children with the same name then any more than they do now. In another passage from another Gospel covering the exact same moment, we know that there was a fourth woman. In fact, this event is in all four Gospels. Matthew 27:56---Among whom were Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of James and Joseph and the mother of the sons of Zebedee. In this verse, Mary the mother of Jesus is not listed but that is because in the whole passage that has been established. What we do find out is that Mary, the wife of Clopas, is also the mother of two sons, James and Joseph, and there is another woman who is the mother of the sons of Zebedee, who were James and John of the disciple band. So now we have four women for sure at the cross. Mark 15:40---There were also women looking on from a distance, among whom were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. Again, Mary the mother of Jesus isn’t listed, but she is established to be there, right at the foot of the Cross with John. But, now the fourth woman is identified as Salome. So, Salome is the mother of James and John and the wife of Zebedee. In the book of Luke this is all recorded, but the women are not named.

          This is where it gets truly interesting. John 19:25, at a casual reading, lists only three women, the three Marys. However, it really lists four women. But standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother and his mother's sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. Mary, the mother of Jesus, did not have a sister named Mary who was married to Clopas. As the verse reads here, we have Mary, the mother of Jesus. Then we have her sister, who is not named. Then we have the other two Marys. We only have four women named in these three passages. Matthew refers to the other women, but the unnamed women at the cross would be the professional mourners. So, taking the named women in Matthew, Mark and John we have Mary, the mother of Jesus, her sister, Salome, the mother of James and John, Mary, the wife of Clopas who was the mother of James and Joseph (also called Joses, which is short for Joseph) and Mary Magdalene.

          Why is this important? Mary, the mother of Christ and Salome, the mother of James and John, were sisters. That means that Jesus was a first cousin to James and John. Cousins were often closer than brothers and James and John, along with Peter, were part of the inner circle. And, it ties up a nagging loose end. Women, typically, were not allowed to make a demand of a man, unless he was her husband or son. We are told in the Gospels, though, that the mother of James and John came to Jesus and asked, or demanded, that Jesus place her sons next to Him when He came into His kingdom. That would have been Salome, however, and she was His aunt. It makes some things fit in the Gospels that otherwise just kind of hang out there.

          It is so good! It all fits together! Don’t just read the Word! Inhale the Word through the Spirit!

          (Bonus! In that last line there is a 500 point bonus if you can tell me the play on words! (oldirishguy51@yahoo.com)  

          Blessings!