Playing Dead

Posted February 13, 2026 by wordsfromww
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When this perishable body puts on imperishability and this mortal body puts on immortality, then the saying that is written will be fulfilled:

“Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
55 “Where, O death, is your victory?
    Where, O death, is your sting?” (1 Corinthians 15:54-55)

In my substitute teaching adventures, I am not adverse to the idea of facilitating the fun factor for the classroom. Although my days in the classroom are winding down, students at my middle school still seem to light up when they see I’m the guest teacher for the day. Oh, there are the warts who seem to enjoy being the cause of chaos. They are the ones who I believe have season tickets to the principal’s office, seats with their names on them.

For the most part, however, the students energize these old bones of mine. Last week, I played dead. They enticed me to lay on a classroom long table while they said kind words over me. It was the last of fiove days subbing in their sixth grade classroom. During the week, we had discussed “grandma candy”, buying their first car (Thankfully, a ways down the road!), the growing number of fidgets, and how short and unfair their lunch period is.

So playing dead was an appropriate way to end the week. Their words weren’t scripted by the students. They searched for nice-sounding adjectives that seemed complimentary to their short-lived instructor stretched out on a hard-surface tabletop.

Death has chummied up to me too frequently in the last few months. Old youth group members, college classmates, current and former church members, and, most recently, my college classmate, teammate, and wedding groomsman, Stan Brown. All have been officially laid out. It’s caused me to appreciate anew the awesomeness of the resurrection and the promise that eternity holds for us.

The only uncertainty that a Jesus-follower has about death is when its arrival has been determined. As I layed on that classroom table, I had about five seconds of resting in peace that comforted my tired feet. Then, with outstretched hands, I gather myself up and shouted to the wide-eyed students, “He rose again!”

I’m not sure many of them made the “Up from the grave, he arose” connection, but a few did, and they smiled and giggled in delight at the “conquering death” moment as they departed for life in their school hallways.

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Column Reading

Posted February 9, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“But blessed are your eyes, for they see, and your ears, for they hear. Truly I tell you, many prophets and righteous people longed to see what you see but did not see it and to hear what you hear but did not hear it.” (Matthew 13:16-17)

In our church sanctuary, there are a couple of floor-to-ceiling columns on the side. My usual seat is on the right side, second row from the back, sitting between my wife and a 97-year-old man who goes by the name Pic. Sometimes, if I’m not pinned in, I can step to the outside of the pew as we sing a praise song or hymn.

You see, the column blocks the last couple of words on each line of the song we’re singing, which are projected on the screen in front of the sanctuary. For some of the praise songs, it’s not a problem because the lyrics are as repetitious as a “Dick, Jane, and Sally Primer Reading Book” from first grade. However, hymns, not so much! It looked like this:

Joyful, Joyful, we ad…God of glory, Lo…hearts unfold l…opening to the…Melt the cl…drive the dark…

So I find myself singing the first few words and mumbling the last few like a sixteen-year-old boy trying to ask the young lady who plays the clarinet next to him in band class to the Homecoming Dance. He gets the first few words out, and then his lack of confidence arrives on his tongue. He mumbles through, causing confusion to appear on her face.

That was me yesterday, singing with half a knowledge and humming through the “column words.” The Call to Worship was a greater challenge, with the worship leader saying a few words to lead the congregation into the next line of unfamiliarity. If my theology was formed on the basis of column-obscured biblical truth, I’d be warped in my walking with Jesus. In other words, if I only get half the message and decide to fill in the rest, like it’s a crossword puzzle, I’d be a flawed follower. Like Marcion in the second century, who rejected the Old Testament and excluded any of its references in the New Testament, his bible was very thin…and flawed.

My “column-challenged” understanding seemed like a parable Jesus might have told, explaining why some people saw but did not understand, that they only got half the story and made up the rest. That they read half of the gospel and filled in with what they thought sounded good. The trend these days seems to be to take a little bit of gospel truth, spin it around with preconceived ideas, and come up with a recipe that sounds vaguely spiritual but mostly opinionated.

We live in a time where the number of bible translations and paraphrases is more numerous than ever, and yet we are about half-a-truth proficient. The columns of our indifference and apathy have allowed us to settle on half the story. The half that isn’t gotten often makes the difference between being people of hope, faith, and grace. The half that isn’t gotten is also oftern filled in with the words of our culture, slanted and suspect.

For me, one solution is to step aside two steps, without knocking my wife or Pic over, and see the whole picture. Either that or like Mr. Frank, an elderly character in my Red Hot: New Life in Fleming novel series, who has memorized the words to all the hymns, taken them to heart, and sings with his eyes closed.

Or, I suppose, find a place that does not have a column blocking my view, where I can see the whole screen, the whole truth.

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Self-Justified Anger

Posted January 26, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“ Now the works of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, debauchery,  idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions,  envy, drunkenness, carousing, and things like these. I am warning you, as I warned you before: those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God.” (Galatians 5:19-21)

Paul empties the cupboard of all the ingredients that tend to foul up the soup. Many of them are locks for being on the list, but there are others that we curl in our eyebrows in dismay. We can easily convict sexual immorality, sorcery, dissensions, carousing, and things like that, but…

Anger? How can an emotion that is part of our DNA be so bad that it’s put in the same mixture as carousing? After all, Jesus got angry at the moneychangers in the temple. Was he displaying one of the works of the flesh? That can’t be! He was without sin.

The truth is… these are angry times, populated by angry people who seem to jump into the pool of irrational behavior frequently. We leap before we look, speak before we think, and react before we pray. Jesus’s anger came as a result of religious shysters who were profiting from the pilgrims’ obedience to the religious laws of their day. Our anger comes as a result of things not going our way. There’s a difference between the two, but deaf ears to hearing the truth.

It seems that anger is now a core value of our political system. It shows its red-faced displeasure in revenge, non-sensical actions, and pouting. What most Americans would love to see is the ability to compromise and have a shared belief that seeks the good of the people. Anger sweeps those hopes into the dustpan and out for the trash. And it seems that when anger gets deployed (Please! I’m not talking about ICE agents when I use that word!) there is a personal sense of gratification that gets the angered person all goosebumpy.

Anger is an outward sign of our need to feel superior. Maybe even more than that, anger is the indicative emotion of our need for the other person, party, or group to feel inferior, to feel the heel of our boot squarely in their personhood. I’d be interested in knowing how much of our charitable giving or contributions to a cause is driven by our anger.

I wish I could say that followers of Jesus are distinctly different, but we aren’t. We are guilty of politicizing our religion according to our flavor and assuming that we are being Christ-like. We get irritated at our neighbors who mow their lawns on Sunday afternoon, but scroll through our cell phones as the pastor’s unheard words ask what message God is trying to get through to us. We get ticked off at the pastor going long in the sermon because it means the Methodists are going to beat us to Cracker Barrel.

Angry spirits drown out the whisperings of the Holy. Peace, on the other hand, is punctuated with moments of silence and comprehension that comes from listening.

You probably know this already, so take this as a refresher reminder. Immediately after the Apostle Paul defined the works of the flesh, he gave us another list. It’s a list of indicators of the Holy Spirit’s activity in a person’s life. They get referred to as the fruit of the Spirit. Here they are again, and I love his lead-in to them.

“By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against such things.” (Galatians 5:22-23)

It seems that the first list is all about what I can get, or my group can get, but the second list is all about having Christlike behavior towards all and seeking to do what is beneficial for all.

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The Platinum Rule

Posted January 19, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“In everything do to others as you would have them do to you, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 7:12)

Mike Woodruff in “The Friday Update” writes that the Platinum Rule is now getting playing time. The Platinum Rule takes Jesus’s Golden Rule (“In everything do to others as you would have them do to you, for this is the Law and the Prophets.“) and rewords it to make it all about the person. It says to “treat ourselves the way we want others to treat us.”

In a culture obsessed with selfies, the emphasis is now on grabbing the last piece of the pie before anyone else gets it. More to the point, grab it instead of asking someone else if they’d like it. After all, you are the queen, or king, of your own make-believe kingdom.

Jesus approached it differently. He astounded his own disciples when he said, “… the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve and to give his life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:28) Not only did Jesus not take that last piece of pie (or probably bread), he served it to the one who was considered by others to be the least.

Serving others and making them feel they are worth serving is a valuable commodity, despite the increasing trend toward the Platinum Rule. Chick-Fil-A has elevated it to a core value. Although we sometimes chuckle at the person bringing the tray to your pleasure with their reply of “My pleasure!” to our thank you, I have never left a Chick-Fil-A feeling unappreciated or undervalued. The company wants you to know that you are important and valued.

Jesus applauded selflessness and self-sacrifice, drawing attention to the widow’s mite, which was a stretch for her to give up, although it didn’t even compare with the large amounts of coins others brought to the temple, which made loud sounds when dropped into the offering containers. And Jesus demonstrated servanthood when he grabbed the water and the cloth and washed his disciples’ feet. It was the prelude to his sacrificial servanthood displayed on the cross.

The Platinum Rule treats servanthood as if it were one of those kindergarten lessons meant to keep the students from pushing and punching one another when they get in line to go down the playground slide. To avoid chaos and broken arms, give the kids a few lessons on kindness and courtesy. According to the Platinum Rule, personal injury lawyers are where it’s at. Mother Teresa is a person from the past, outdated and old-fashioned. Social influencers wearing an exorbitant amount of bling is where it’s at now.

The thing is, we’re never satisfied. Paul David Tripp, in his devotional, New Morning Mercies, writes that sin “…causes us to look horizontally for what can only be found vertically.” The mindset “it’s all about me” never reaches a point of peace and satisfaction, and yet it’s the bill of goods we’ve bought into.

Serving others brings us to the heart of Jesus.

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Seeing The Unseen

Posted January 7, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” (1 Corinthians 4:18)

I loved watching my grand-nephew, Chase Allen, play basketball. He had vision. He could see what hadn’t happened yet, as well as the possibilities of what could happen. He knew when to slow it down and set up the offense that was having a few minutes of chaos, and he knew when his team had the advantage and needed to speed the game up.

Court sense and game understanding. Seeing the not-yet and what such foresight could mean for his team.

In our walk with God, wouldn’t it be great to see what has not yet happened? We have some of that in that we know where our eternal destination will be. We know that the love of God will always be there. We know His presence never disappears.

However, we see what is seen so much that fixing our eyes on what is unseen is like knowing what is in the midst of the morning fog we’re walking into. We see the fog, but not what is positioned within the fog.

In our lives, we see what is the immediate. We see what is on the agenda for the day. We see the person in front of us that we’re talking to, and we hear what they’re saying. However, we fail to see the presence of God in the moment or in the details. We so often fail to see the heart of the person we’re talking to or the innner struggles that are being fought. We are a “see what’s in front of your face” kind of people.

In recent months, I’ve had several of my youth-years friends pass away. Three of them were in the same church youth group I was in. They’re my age! Their passing causes me to pause and consider the eternal matters of this life and the next. I can not see what is to come, and yet I am confident in the promises of the unseen. It isn’t that I am no longer concerned or interested in the events and moments of this life, but rather that I’m investing more of my pondering on the life I will experience in the eternal.

Like my grand-nephew’s basketball court sense, I’m sensing the presence of the Unseen and the “what is to come.”

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ROCK RESISTANCE

Posted January 1, 2026 by wordsfromww
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“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” (Matthew 7:24-25)

In general, the church has struggled to define its relevance to current culture. It has battled with two questions: Why do we do the things that we do, and why shouldn’t we do what the culture is doing? A subtitled question for the second would be “What are the limits to the push to be culturally relevant?”

In some cases, the drive to be culturally “with it” has resulted in producing churches that have thrown Jesus into the backseat. He’s not even riding shotgun anymore. In other situations, churches have asked the risky question, “Why not try this? Would Jesus be upset by it, or is it just different than what has always been the tradition?”

Jesus’s teaching about the house built on the rock versus the house built on sand brings us, literally, to the foundation of the issue. I mean, “who builds on sand?” is the logical question. In recent years, we’ve seen many crumbling houses built exactly there. Some in sinkholes, others on hillsides where erosion has deemed the structure unsafe to live in. In some of the situations, the “bad” foundation isn’t discovered until later on when it’s too late to change anything.

It makes me wonder if, in the beginning, the sifting sand looked solid? Did the decision to build seem like a great idea, a creative project that was going to connect with those seeking the truth? Did it look rock solid? When did the foundation become more about cultural leanings and less about Christ?

Regarding the church, there is a certain mindset that holds firmly to the idea that rock-hard resistance to the winds of change is the way of the faithful, while others argue that such rigidity eliminates the freedom the gospel brings.

In addition, the church and its members have a habit of trivializing what it means to have a solid faith by putting disqualifiers into the question. Can you be anchored to the Rock and still drink a margarita? Does being Rock-Solid mean that playing the lottery is an indicator of a lack of faith? Can I stay close to Christ and still cuss?

Going back to my opening question, it has been difficult for the church to define its relevance to culture, and also what being set free by the gospel means and what it looks like.

The vitalness of being anchored to the Rock is evident in the cultural antagonisms that pull in various directions. “WWJD”- what would Jesus do gets verbalized in vastly different ways by different people and groups. What is a sign of waywardness to one group is a sign of devotion to another. Changing the world for Christ will always meet resistance from those who want the world to change in another way. It seems that Christ-followers too often have to battle against culture and other Christians. In reading the epistles of the New Testament, the struggle was evident back then as well. Pressures from those outside and tensions and warped beliefs from some of those on the inside made for lengthy letter correspondence. Of course, that was the early church in various locations and hostile cultures. They were communities of believes trying to figure faith out.

I’m not sure what our excuses are. Staying close to Jesus always seems to attract sand and wind.

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Muscle Noise

Posted December 23, 2025 by wordsfromww
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“If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.” (1 Corinthians 13:1)

My friend, Allan, was talking to me about the pet scan he was scheduled to have. Because of a bout with cancer a few years ago, he has the scan done when his physician considers it a precautionary step. Allan was not looking forward to NOT doing the things that are a part of his daily routine, such as a spinning class on a stationary bike at the local YMCA and taking a long walk. Those exercise activities were no-nos, as well as eating carbohydrates.

I asked him why, and he said it was because of “muscle noise.” I had never heard that term before. Muscle noise…hmmm! He explained that muscle noise can cause a false positive on the test. Muscle noise can make it appear as if there is a tumor or inflammation, leading to misinterpretation of the situation. It can also mask the situation, or, as the physician would say, “steal the tracer,” reducing the signal from smaller tumors that might be present.

Thus, as Allan explains it, he was not excited about a day of inactivity to avoid muscle noise. Probably going to turn him into “The Grouch” for a few hours, and make him a bear to live with. All to keep his muscles from being out of control and, as the younger generation would say, giving a “fake-out.”

Sometimes I wish there could be a spiritual “muscle noise” scan for followers of Jesus. You know…a tool that could signal authenticity or false praise. Who is making a lot of noise that is inaccurately interpreted as heartfelt devotion and commitment? Who is drawing attention to themselves, instead of worship of the Lord?

Shouldn’t there be times when stillness and silence define the person and the worship of the believers? Just as some worship is sedate and unconnected, there is another kind of worship that could best be defined as spastic and ingenuous. Sometimes the church needs to practice silence to hear the still, small voice of the Spirit. Sometimes the church needs to be still and know that He is the Lord.

A friend of mine, in describing his church’s worship experience, said, “We praise the Lord during the worship service and then act like the devil getting out of the parking lot.”

As Allan said, there are certain things he isn’t allowed to do before his scan, which minimize the risk of misinterpretation. That sounds like a good idea for Christ-followers, also. There should be certain things we don’t do during the hours leading up to worship, certain things that cause distance from the One we worship, instead of closeness to the Holy.

Muscle noise. Muscle silence. What an interesting thing to discover.

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Dark Walks

Posted December 22, 2025 by wordsfromww
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“The people walking in darkness have seen a great light;
on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.” (Isaiah 9:2)

December 21st is referred to as the “shortest day of the year.” Actually, it’s the same length of time as any other day. The irony of its logo is that it is the longest day of darkness. Darkness comes early, only a few hours after it had stayed too long.

It is not uncommon for my wife and me to take dark walks during these days, saturated with darkness. There is a degree of treacherous stepping as we proceed up our street and around the neighborhood. Being familiar with where cracks in the sidewalk and potholes in the street exist helps us avoid most stumbles…most stumbles! Darkness hides new developments and dangers until it’s too late.

When Isaiah spoke his prophecy, it was a dark time for Judah. Assyria was dominating. The people were suffering. Oppression characterized the time. The words of the prophet must have sounded strange. “Seeing a great light?” “A light has dawned in deep darkness?” Eugene Peterson’s The Message paraphrase renders the last part of the verse, “For those who lived in a land of deep shadows—
 light! sunbursts of light!“

When darkness dominates, is it a fairy tale to talk of sunbursts of light? Or, does any speck or glimmer of light get interpreted as hope?

When life is defined by the oppressiveness of darkness, seeing light at the end of the tunnel brings a welcome sigh of relief. Many folk describe their lives as being a walk in “the longest darkness.” What an incredible moment for them to have a sunburst of hope! A light that shows the path and the destination.

I read the news this morning. It was a walk into the dark world we live in. Violence, fraud, racism, poverty. I was looking for a light, just a ray, just a twinkle. Isaiah gives me that glimmer of hope. It came to me in the form of a 96-year-old woman from our church. Her daughter convinced her that it was finally time to give up the shoveling of her nieghbors’ driveway and sidewalks. She had done it for years. Two heart attacks hadn’t even stopped her. Sometimes darkness just needs someone to is willing to make a path for others.

Yesterday, during our Sunday worship service, the youth of our church showered her with joy when we gave her a plate of Christmas cookies we had baked and decorated. For a caring, elderly lady, it was a moment of vibrant kindness that brought a radiance to her face.

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Looking Like Carl

Posted December 15, 2025 by wordsfromww
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“ And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.” (2 Corinthians 3:18)

The Youth Sunday School Class I teach told me that I look like Carl Fredricksen from the movie “Up.” They even found a picture on the internet and displayed it on the screen in our classroom…with me standing beside a backgrounded Carl. Unfortunately, there was a resemblance. I’m a few years away from(hopefully) being a full-fledged member of the Carl Club, but he is leaking into me.

Most of us are hopeful that we resemble someone who is nice, or at least good-looking. A good friend of mine was compared to supervillain Gru from the “Despicable Me” film series. Funny how both of us have been compared to animated characters.

My hope is that, despite my similarities to Carl, minus the walking stick, I am resembling Jesus a little more each day, as opposed to being villainous and despicable. It’s a daily…no, I mean an ongoing moment-by-moment possibility. The closer I stay to Jesus the more I understand His mercy, compassion, forgiveness, and grace. When I talk about needing peace of mind, I need only to look in His direction and have a chat with Him about my troubled soul.

Our culture’s understanding of transformation is more instantaneous. You weren’t, and now you are. You didn’t have it, and now you do. My hunger was transformed in a few moments by the super-sized McDonald’s meal; and then shortly after that, my appeased appetite would be transformed into indigestion. Transformation is understood differently in the physical world.

In the spiritual world, it’s a journey, more like slowly turning a giant freighter in the midst of the vast sea. It’s a daily prayer of repentance and hope, thankfulness and praise.

I am thankful for others who have been on this journey before me and whom I can look to as reflections of Jesus. My dad was one of those. Some say I am a physical recreation of him. He was the Deacon Emeritus of his church, a man wise and grounded, kind and friendly, a listener and a doer. In his last couple of years of life, he had what was called a “hurry-cane,” like Carl’s, but he was never in a hurry when there was someone who needed a word of encouragement or redirection.

I may look like Carl Fredricksen, but I hope I reflect Laurence Wolfe.

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Slip Ons

Posted December 11, 2025 by wordsfromww
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“Diligent hands will rule, but laziness ends in forced labor.” (Proverbs 12:24)

I bought a pair of shoes that are “slip-ons.” They sit on the floor of my closet, and I effortlessly slide my feet into them. I’m not sure how I feel about it. There’s a slither of guilt as I slip into the slippers. Is it a sign of my laziness? As Proverbs hints, am I one of those slackers that thinks work is a four-letter word? Oh, that’s right. It is.

What are the limits of convenience? I have visions of Rosie the Robot from The Jetsons, running around and making life easy for George and company.

Slip-ons are nice. I don’t grunt when I slide into them. When I revert to a pair of shoes that have shoelaces that need to be tied, I grunt as I lean over to tie the knot. I never used to grunt like a pig when grabbing the laces, but it’s now come to that. Unfortunately, I don’t have slip-on socks, so Porky is still making sounds.

Which prompts the question? What’s the next invention that will lean me even more into being incapable of labor? A car that drives itself? (Oh, I guess technology is ahead of the game already on that one!) A business that allows me to order up a meal without having to cook it, and have it delivered to my residence? (Oh! I’m way behind on that one!) A buttoned-down shirt that doesn’t need to be buttoned, but just slides on (even over my mid-section)?

I know, I know, convenience has saturated my life for a long, long time. I’m now having a hard time even remembering the pre-microwave oven days, or the days when someone had to actually get out of their chair and walk to the TV to change the channel. In the distant memories of my mind are the days before my grandparents had indoor plumbing. (Yes, they had an outhouse…complete with spiders and other creepy things)

The bible seems to promote a work ethic that has now been redefined. When work ethic is discussed, it is usually equated with getting things done, rather than slouching in the recliner with a beer and a bag of chips close at hand.

Students with a solid work ethic are usually organized and complete their assignments on time… and well. True confession! I was a procrastinator who completed assignments at the last minute. In recent times (Maybe it’s a COVID thing), students don’t even do the assignments. Sloth has settled into the classroom.

Of course, our churches have “slip-ins.” They are people who slip in and slip out, like cars in a McDonald’s drive-thru. Slip in to get a nugget of spiritual direction and slip out to resume the other 99% of life. That is, unless there is a crisis that needs more than a moment. That sounds like a variation of laziness that results in “forced labor.” Forced labor being defined as “having to deal with what has been ignored.”

Back to my “slip-ons.” One remedy is to hide them in the closet and return to my days of grunting and bending over in discomfort. Or, maybe a better solution is to balance my convenience with another way of service and help, like emptying the dishwasher, shoveling the snow in the driveway of one of our neighbors up the street who is dealing with cancer, making myself available to help at school, or inviting the neighborhood to our house for hot chocolate, cookies, queso, and chips on a Sunday afternoon. (Actually, Carol orchestrated that last suggestion this past February, and 20 of our neighbors came and stayed…and stayed…and stayed, almost like they were cherishing the moments)

Every time I slip on my slip-ons, it is now a reminder that my life is filled…okay blessed with an easiness. I’m reminding myself that the easiness is also a path that frees me up to do harder things.

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