by Greg A. Tidwell

"It's A Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, World" has remained one of my favorite movies. Picking up on a dying man's last words, a madcap group of strangers compete against each other in a wild race for stolen treasure buried under "a big W." Each member of the all-star cast throws himself into the great comic roles with ecstasy. The viewer hardly realizes the movie's epic length because of the fast paced gags that punctuate the storyline.

But what if you were trapped in that sort of world -- a world where real dialogue could never exist because every meaning is twisted and turned into the punch line of a gag? It wouldn't take long for your laughter to change into tears. Part of the joy of comedy is that it provides a temporary escape from the real world. Its enjoyment rests on its transient nature. Perpetual farce quickly changes from comedy into tragedy. The joys found in "Hotel California" become a terror if "you can never leave."

Stranger than Fiction

There are many strange stories I could tell you concerning the sad state of American religion, where entertainment (and even farce) have taken the place of the Lord's service.

There is the denominational church, for example, where the ministerial staff took lessons from professional wrestlers so as to put on an exhibition for their Sunday assembly.

Or the church of Christ where the preacher sent the congregation into the parking lot with the bottles of bubble-blow to send a "bubble offering" up to God.

As isolated events, these travesties might be amusing, but as part of a trend enveloping the religious landscape, they are terrifying. In the Lord's church we must say, "Enough is enough." Rather than smiling indulgently at strange teachings and practice, we must hold ourselves accountable to a high standard of truth and reason.

by Randal Matheny

I stepped into the new year and -- whoosh! -- it was like hitting a carpet on a slick floor. Some of the important stuff, like getting back to exercising, are still waiting on the sidelines.

All the time, I'm thinking, "This year is not going to be the blur that 2002 was. I will the clock to slow down."

• So yesterday I locked the office door, sat down in my Christmas-present chair, and promptly took a nap.

• When I got home, I picked up the Robert Louis Stevenson novel Micah mentioned he had read for a school report. I'm almost through it, and we're discussing some of its points.

• Vicki and I have plans next week to go see the next Lord of the Rings movie.

I was gone this past weekend in a quick trip to teach another Total Transformation course. Last week, an invitation from Rio de Janeiro for next month. Sermons, Bible classes, courses, articles, emails, letters, visits.

All the stuff of life. All good stuff. Mostly stuff that will bless someone's faith and life.

But stuff that can get out of control, and, while I'm helping other lives, my life can whoosh by and disappear.

To serve with sanity, that's the trick. To not lose one's touch with the Lord. Time to breathe deeply, soothe out the furrowed brow, watch the slow march of clouds across the sky.

Time to write a poem. Time to sing. Time to meditate on the Word.

Time to be like Jesus.

"In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there" (Mark 1:35, NASU).

Jesus never whooshed. This year, neither will I.

by Tim Hall

"So if Jesus could raise the dead, why did He ask others to move the stone from the tomb where Lazarus was buried?" My question was posed to the Wednesday evening Bible class I was teaching. Our topic of study was John's account of the life of Christ, and our focus was on John 11. I expected to elicit the stock answer to that question: God will only do for us what we cannot do for ourselves. That would have been an appropriate answer.

The answer we heard caught me off guard. The respondent was a farmer, a man with no diplomas or certificates on his wall, but a man of wisdom and sharp insight. "He wanted them to move the stone so they could smell death," was his answer. Immediately I thought to myself, "What a great answer!" Indeed, moments before the stone was rolled away, Martha cautioned Jesus: "Lord, by this time there is a stench, for he has been dead four days" (John 11:39, New King James Version).

This insight had never occurred to me (but then there are many insights I've yet to come upon). My view of this passage was now richer than before. There would be powerful benefits for the people standing by Lazarus' tomb. No one would doubt that this man had been dead. When they beheld him stepping forth from the tomb, there would be no questions about whether or not a miracle had been performed in their presence.

That Wednesday evening experience confirmed a principle I've seen demonstrated many times. When Christians come together to seriously study God's word, they will almost always leave with deeper understanding. Even the teacher will benefit, if the students are given opportunities to share their thoughts. Though I've been the one behind the podium, I've thanked God that I was privileged to be a student. The comments of others have helped me see more clearly.

Talking together about God's word will often stimulate us to greater comprehension and service. That's what the Hebrew writer was pointing to in Hebrews 10:24: "And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works." And when can such "stirring" take place? Read the next verse: "Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the Day approaching" (Hebrews 10:25).

Some dread the Bible class hour and look for a pass to get out of the appointment. But those who hunger and thirst after righteousness will recognize the opportunity to be sharpened in their understanding of the Lord's wonderful will.

by Phil Sanders

Of all our possessions, none is so precious as the soul. You can lose your home, and that would be tragic; but losing a home is not losing your soul for an eternity. You can lose your sight, your hearing, your hands, or your feet and still go to heaven. But if you lose your soul, you have lost it all.

If you care about your soul, you will not do anything that will endanger your eternity.

You will forgive the tresspasses of your brother, because they are small compared to your soul (Matt. 6:14-15).

You will give up that sin now, because a moment's pleasure is nothing compared to an eternity with God (2 Pet. 3:9).

You will warn your brother of temptations and sins, so that his blood will not be required of you (Ezek. 3:18-21).

You will not worry about the trials of today, for they are nothing compared to the glory to be revealed (Rom. 8:18).

You will grow to love the Lord your God and serve Him only, because your soul is in His hands (2 Tim. 1:12).

You will watch your tongue, your behavior, and your attitude, so that you might please the One who died for you (Col. 1:10).

You will grow in the grace and knowledge of the Lord Jesus (2 Pet. 3:18).

You will increase not only in faith but also in virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love. By doing these things you will never stumble but will enter heaven (2 Pet. 1:5-11).

If your soul matters to you, you will never be lukewarm or apathetic but will strive to enter the kingdom by the narrow door (Luke 13:24-30).

Deny yourself, take up your cross daily, and put on the Lord Jesus. "For whoever wishes to save his life shall lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake, he is the one who will save it. For what is a man profited if he gains the whole world, and loses or forfeits himself?" (Luke 9:24-25).

Paul said, "Therefore I run in such a way, as not without aim; I box in such a way, as not beating the air; but I buffet my body and make it my slave, lest possibly, after I have preached to others, I myself should be disqualified" (1 Cor. 9:26-27).

If you care about your soul, you will be diligent to make your calling and election sure. You will not wait to obey the gospel or to repent of your sin.

One day, nothing else will matter.

by A. A. Neale

You're thinking that I must have gone mad. My good wife tells me the same thing at least once a week, but I'm in my right ole noggin. I don't claim to remember everything, but two and two still make four.

I am thankful for war. Yes, thankful for war, and I can be so for at least a couple of reasons. Try them on for size.

Right off the bat, I am thankful that war, at the present moment, represents government fulfilling its God-given responsibilities. The so-called secular ruler is "the minister of God to thee for good," says Paul in Romans 13:4. As such, "he beareth not the sword in vain: for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil."

No government is perfect, I'll grant that, just as no marriage is perfect. (How goes yours at the moment?) But marriage and government, not to mention the church, are both created and blessed by God for our good and peace on this earth. And in the present crisis, as terrorists and other similar hoods, misguided by false religion, threaten the peace of citizens in many countries around the world, our government (and maybe yours too, if you're not from the U.S.) has taken steps to combat this plague. So I am thankful for that.

Please don't carp about how bad a job it's doing, or how it ought to do things differently. You might even be right, I don't know, but neither of us is in the hot seat, in the place where decisions must be made and carried out. So I'll just refrain from pointing fingers, thank you, and give thanks to a good God who has people in charge of the nation concerned about these matters. I'm thankful for war, because it means robbers of our peace will not have free rein to wreak their havoc.

I'm also thankful for war, because it reminds me of the perfect peace and safety awaiting us beyond this world of strife and suffering. Obviously, war is no good thing, and only a crazy mind would argue that point. (See, told you I hadn't lost it.) The atrocities of war are unspeakable, and combatants often come back from the front tightlipped about what they went through. So as I wind down the long years of a blessed life on this earth, the description of that heavenly city becomes ever so dear.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away" (Revelation 21:4).

My friends, I am ready, ever so ready, for the former things to pass away. And I am thankful for war, for it serves as yet another reminder of the depravity of this world and its hopeless condition that can never be remedied by science or technology or peace treaties.

I suppose those are two rather different sides of the coin, but they both can make me thankful for war and grateful to Almighty God who put us here on this earth to prepare ourselves for a glorious and oh-so-peaceful reign of joy and plenty at the Master's side.

Yes, I am thankful for war.