Covenant Church

A man of impressive physical size, my friend was also a man of impressive credentials. He was Dean of Instruction in a large community college.

We enjoyed being together and never finished our conversation, just paused to continue at a later time. Naturally, with me being a young pastor and college instructor, discussions often evolved around the subject of religion.

"Walter," I said, "how is your faith? What is your relationship to Jesus?"

"Oh, Harold," he answered in his slow and drawling voice, "I am a religious person, but my need for religion has changed in the course of my life. My parents are Wesleyan Holiness. I respect their devotion but do not find it necessary to practice their level of commitment. I have found that some things others think are basic to faith are not important in my life."

It was a fine academic statement. The essence of liberalism, especially considering that he was a Ph.D. in psychology; he had made a fine play upon words.

I wondered how many times he had shared those same feelings with his peers or with students and received looks of silence and awe in respect to his intellectualism. I wondered, but not for long. His comments deserved a response.

"Walter," I answered, "I would really be impressed with what you have said if I did not know in my heart that when your mom and dad come to visit you get the beer out of the refrigerator and hide it!"

He erupted in laughter. "You are absolutely right, Harold. Things are different when Mom and Dad come to visit."

Well do I remember as a boy being out with the boys. Oh, there was mischief. We might play hooky from school to hang out in the forest and swing on grapevines. Or, well, maybe I can just leave you with the understanding there was mischief.

Bold we were in our mischief. We talked big talk. We impressed each other with verbose and vociferous statements of our young manhood. We pretended we were impressed with each other and that we need fear neither God nor man for the mischief that fell from our words and deeds.

Have you ever chewed pine needles to get rid of the smell of cigarettes on your breath? Eat an onion then blow your breath on others to see if the smoke smell is gone? Dive in the swimming hole, clothes and all, to make sure the damnable smell did not linger for Mama's nose?

Walking home, alone, friends gone, soberness returned, there was the awareness that Mom did not need to smell a bad odor to know mischief had been afoot. Mom sensed it. How did she know? How could she tell -- was it the fear in our own eyes? the way we walked with hesitation? not answering questions directly? Did we tell on ourselves? Did our own behavior suggest that we had erred from the straight and narrow?

Still I am not wise enough to know the answers. Yet, time has taught me that what we say is not always exactly what we do. We can talk loud, but inside be timid and shy, even pained and insecure. We can boast of our independence, but turn the lights out at night and wish we had a friend. We can keep Jesus at a distance, yet long for the fellowship that only comes from sitting at His feet.

Surely, if we would think ahead, plan ahead, and consider that one day we will walk home to give an account to God, we would be more careful to choose words that are consistent with our deeds. We would realize that the Lord will know what we have done, regardless of the fast words we have spoken.

It ought to be so that our words and deeds are consistent. It ought to be so that the house we build with our words and deeds not need to be changed when the Lord comes to visit. It ought to be that we build upon the Rock and not build on sand.

With a prayer for consistency,
Pastor Bare

"Even so the tongue is a little member, and boasteth great things. Behold, how great a matter a little fire kindleth….And the fruit of righteousness is sown in peace of them that make peace" (James 3:6,18).