The simplest definition I can give is this: Worship is our response to what we value most. That’s why worship is that thing we do. It’s what we’re about on any given day. Because worship is about saying, “This person, this thing, this experience (this whatever) is what matters most to me…it’s the thing I put first in my life. That thing might be: a relationship, a dream, friends, status, stuff, a name, or some kind of pleasure. Whatever name you put on it, this thing or person is what you’ve concluded in your heart is worth most to you. And whatever is worth most to you is—you guessed it—what you worship.

Some of us attend the church on the corner, professing to worship the Living God above all. Others who rarely step inside the church doors would say worship isn’t a part of their lives because they aren’t ‘religious.’ But everybody has an altar. And every altar has a throne.”

So, how do you know where and what you worship? It’s easy. You simply follow the trail of your time, your affection, your energy, your money, and your loyalty. At the end of the trail you’ll find a throne; and whatever, or whomever, is on that throne is what you worship.

Sure, not too many of us walk around saying, “I worship my stuff. I worship my Xbox. I worship my job. I worship this pleasure. I worship her. I worship my body. I worship me!” But, the trail never lies. We may say we value this thing or that thing more than any other, but the volume of our actions speaks louder than our words.

In the end, our worship is more about what we do than what we say.”

Speak the truth in love (Eph. 4:15). Approach the person tenderly, patiently, and kindly. Explain that you are confronting them out of a deep and loving concern for their eternal good.

Point them to the Scriptures. Explain that your goal is not to render a final verdict on their souls. Rather, you are concerned they aren’t living like Scripture says a Christian lives. Refer them to passages like Matthew 7:13-29, Romans 6:12-23, 8:13, 1 Corinthians 6:9-11, 2 Corinthians 13:5, and the whole book of 1 John.

Question them gently. Ask things like, “Do you think your life matches the Bible’s picture of a genuine Christian? Are you genuinely fighting sin or secretly cherishing it? Do you believe that being a Christian means repenting of your sin and trusting in Christ?”

Remind them of their profession of faith and baptism. Remind them of the gospel.

Urge them to consider eternity. Remind them that their eternal joy or condemnation is at stake (Ps. 49; Matt. 25:31-46).

‘Watch out! You nearly broadsided that car!’ My father yelled at me. ‘Can’t you do anything right?’ Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.

‘I saw the car, Dad.. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.’ My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then, turned away and settled back. At home, I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil.

What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day, I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived.

But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned and then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon, I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session, he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day, I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, ‘I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article.’ I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one, but rejected one after the other for various reasons, too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen, a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. ‘Can you tell me about him?’ The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement..

‘He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him; that was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.’ He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in, I turned to the man in horror. ‘You mean you’re going to kill him?’

‘Ma’am,’ he said gently, ‘that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog..’

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. ‘I’ll take him,’ I said..

I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house, I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch.

‘Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!’ I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. ‘If I had wanted a dog, I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it’ Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples.

‘You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!’ Dad ignored me.. ‘Did you hear me, Dad?’ I screamed. At those words, Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate.

We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when, suddenly, the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him.. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.

Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently.. Then, Dad was on his knees, hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together, he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad’s bitterness faded and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then, late one night, I was startled to feel Cheyenne ‘s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe, and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later, my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned, overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And, then, the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. ‘Be not forgetful to entertain strangers.’

‘I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,’ he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.

Cheyenne’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter, his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father, and the proximity of their deaths. And, suddenly, I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard, love truly, and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second time.

After the death of Jesus Christ the disciples abandoned their self-interest, selfish ambition and competition. They became willing to be spent and to die for their Savior and for the work of God. Why? Look at the early church. They “turned the world upside down” because of what the cross of Christ meant to them. Why did Paul say,

“I want to glory in nothing else but Jesus Christ and Him crucified”? (Galatians 6:14)
And,

“For I am determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus and Him crucified.” (1Corinthians 2:2).
What was it about the death of Christ that made such a major impact on them and brought a total transformation in their personal resolve? I believe that if we find the answer to that question, the Body of Christ, the Ecclesia, will never be the same again. Like the early Church, we can be so totally transformed because of our profound understanding of the total sacrifice that Christ made that we can never again be casual or complacent about our relationship with Jesus Christ and His sacrifice on the cross.——-by Ray Wooten

Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything, all she had to live on.”

Sacrifice is not about giving less than you are able to give or even about giving according to what you are able to give. Sacrifice is giving beyond what you are able to give. Sacrifice is about giving what hurts to give. So the question for us as individuals, families, and as a church is not really about what we can spare in order to help our brothers and sisters around the world. Instead, it’s about what we can sacrifice – what we can do without, even if it hurts. Are we willing to put in, like the widow, what it costs us to give? This is sacrifice. The question is, “Are we willing to do it?”

Death is a scary, devastating and horrible thing. But God promises to work all things—including death—for good for those who love him and are called by him (Romans 8:28).

So, how does God view the death?
Isaiah 57:1-2

The righteous man perishes,
and no one lays it to heart;
devout men are taken away,
while no one understands.
For the righteous man is taken away from calamity;
he enters into peace;
they rest in their beds
who walk in their uprightness.

There are two ways this is true for Christians. First, John 16:33 “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”. We will only stop having tribulation when God takes us home.

Second, the greatest calamity that will befall humans is the wrath of God. That is what we need to be “taken away” (saved) from. The Bible tells us plainly that Christians will suffer various worldly calamities. Romans 8:35-36 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”. But what makes us “more than conquerors” in all these things is the love of Jesus Christ (Romans 8:37). Since we “have now been justified by Jesus’ blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God” (Romans 5:9).

So, when those of us who are counted righteous in Christ die, we are delivered from our greatest calamity and all lesser calamities. We enter into peace and rest. And this is a mercy that the world doesn’t understand.

And one more thing. The Lord Jesus finally sees his great desire for us fulfilled: “Father, I desire that they also, whom you have given me, may be with me where I am, to see my glory” (John 17:24).

Which is why “precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15).

Jesus In Gethsemane

Then Jesus went with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane, and he said to them, “Sit here while I go over there and pray.” He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee along with him, and he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”

Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will.”

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Could you men not keep watch with me for one hour?” he asked Peter. “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak.”

He went away a second time and prayed, “My Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done.”

When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time, saying the same thing.

Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour is near, and the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us go! Here comes my betrayer!” (Matthew 26:36-46)

Jesus asks a few simple things of His disciples while they are in Gethsemane. He asks them to sit, stay, and keep watch with him. He finds them sleeping and is let down. Again, he tells them to watch and pray so that they will not fall into temptation. He left again, finding His disciples asleep once more upon His return. Then, this happened a third time. When He returns the third time, He tells them that the hour is near and to rise.
Watch and Pray

Jesus tells us to watch and pray so that we will not fall into temptation. We are told that our Spirit is willing (to not fall into temptation), but our body is weak. That is to say that if we do not watch and pray, we are likely to fall into temptation of things that are not of God; things that He knows are not best for us.

To watch means to keep watch spiritually for yourself and those around you, praying that they may be filled with the Holy Spirit and not fall into temptation. Watching means to be spiritually awake and alert, paying close attention to any shifts in the atmosphere around you. Keep watch to make sure that your surroundings do not influence you, but that you remain constant in God. Do not let your surroundings influence you, but instead influence your surroundings. Watching makes you spiritually alert, allowing you to be correctly positioned for every situation, reacting with a Kingdom response. Prayer is this response. Too often we are caught by surprise while sleeping, and we respond incorrectly to the situation.

If it’s distracting you from God, don’t waste time following organized sports, watching TV, or being lazy. Even the things that are not sin must be taken out of our lives if they are holding us back from the King. Just like Jesus told His disciples, the time to wake up is now.

And do this, understanding the present time. The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. (Romans 13:11)