As we work our way through 1 Timothy at Antioch, a letter Paul wrote to a young pastor 2,000 years ago, I marvel at how timely it is … and how practical. Paul addresses men and women in Chapter 2, giving encouragement to both sexes for how they are to prepare themselves for public worship. Men get ready to come to church by checking their hands. If they are clenched in fists of rage, or shoved into their pockets because of apathy, they are not ready. If they are locked behind their backs because they have abdicated leadership and are being led by their wives, or if they are steeped in a sinful lifestyle, they are not ready. It wasn’t hands Paul was concerned with, but he says you can tell a lot about a man’s heart by looking at his hands. If they can be lifted in prayer, without wrath and without doubting, that expression matches his profession that Jesus Christ is Lord.
The word for wrath in this text means “anger as a state of mind.” It doesn’t mean you had an argument in the car with your wife on the way to church, men. That can be quickly confessed. It points to a slow burn, an angry, simmering state of mind that always threatens to erupt. This is the man who is always looking for a fight, quick to defend himself at the slightest provocation. Or the man who lives to punish someone who has hurt him. That’s good old, garden-variety bitterness. Except it’s not good. And the only fruit from that garden is poison.
What can we do about this? Preach the gospel to ourselves every day. Remind ourselves of the grace that was poured out on us through the brutal death of our Savior. Can we possibly look to the cross and at the same time hold onto towering rage or seething bitterness?
Now Paul turns his attention to the women, except he doesn’t talk about how women are to pray, but how they are to dress. There is nothing in the text, or anywhere in the Scriptures, really, about how a man should dress for worship. Perhaps this is because God has given men and women different desires, for the most part, with regard to clothing. Answer this question: Mostly, men dress for church to A. Be comfortable but not sloppy, or B. To express something about themselves. Right, the answer is A. A man dresses for utilitarian reasons: What can I get by with, or, what will my wife let me get by with? How does a woman dress for church? A woman’s dress is an expression of who she is and what she believes. The question in this text is not whether a woman should dress to look her best. The issue is how she chooses to adorn herself, and Paul has two exhortations on this. He says, women, make sure you dress with modesty and propriety. When a woman or young woman dresses immodestly in the worship service or anywhere in public, she seems to be offering something that only belongs to her husband, or to her future husband. It would be a good exercise for every woman and young woman to ask her husband or father, “What kind of clothing do women wear that tends to make you stumble?” Get an honest answer, ladies, and then avoid dressing that way yourselves, for the gospel’s sake.
There is more to say, but space doesn’t permit. Study it out for yourself, you who believe the Bible.

The chorus of the old song said, “Talk about me as much as you please; I’ll talk about you down on my knees.” We need to talk to men about God and talk to God about men. Any fool can gossip; men and women of God are called to pray. I was reminded of those ideas last week as I studied Paul’s encouragement to Timothy, where he told the young pastor to make sure “… that supplications, prayer, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men.” Make sure the church is praying, Timothy, and make sure they are praying for all men. I remember when my children were little, their prayers went something like this: “Lord, help us to have a good time today and not to fight, and I love you. Amen.” That was fine for a 3- or 4-year-old, but just a tad narrow, wouldn’t you say? Now that I think about it, though, maybe more adults should pray that God would help them not to fight. But that’s a different column.
As my children got older, their prayers became larger, more expansive, and they began to pray for others outside their family. That’s the idea here. Prayer is powerful, so we must not limit it. Prayer can be a game changer because the One to whom we are praying is not limited in his might and is not limited in his desire to bless and heal and save.
John Stott wrote about his visit to a village church in England years ago: “The pastor was absent on holiday, and a lay elder led the pastoral prayer. He prayed that the pastor might enjoy a good vacation, which was fine, and that two lady members of the congregation might be healed, which was also fine; we should pray for the sick. But that was all.
The intercession can hardly have lasted thirty seconds. I came away saddened, sensing that this church worshiped a little village god of their own devising. There was no recognition of the needs of the world, and no attempt to embrace the world in prayer.” When I heard that story I was a bit convicted because, though we spend time praying together as a church every Sunday and in our home groups every Wednesday, we do not pray enough for those in authority in our state or nation. We do not embrace the world in prayer as we ought.
Pray for all men, Paul says. Then he really raises the stakes by saying we must pray for “kings and all who are in authority.” We could translate that as Americans to “Presidents and Governors and all who are in authority.” Believers, how many of us show by our prayers that we believe in the power of prayer and we truly believe the Bible that says, “the heart of the king (and the President) is in the hand of the Lord”?
Prayer is powerful because God is powerful. When Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven,” He invited us into game-changing, even kingdom-changing, prayer. He gave us a tool for child raising that is without equal: Only God can change our children’s hearts, and our prayers are invited into that process. He gave us a tool for culture-change that is without equal: the Gospel of Jesus Christ, working through praying and godly believers, is the most powerful force in the world.
So, talk about me as much as you please. Especially if you are talking to God about me. Prayer is a game changer.

Why is church discipline necessary? Imagine this scenario. A team of doctors is operating on a critically ill patient whose life hangs in the balance. Cancer is threatening to kill the person, and the only help and the only hope for survival is in the hands of the skilled surgeons. The cancer must be removed. As they work to save the patient, they are interrupted by a sudden commotion. A man bursts into the operating room and shoves the doctors away, thrashes at the IV lines and ventilator, pushing aside the nurses who try to intervene. What must happen in that moment for the patient to survive? Those with authority to protect and defend would have to step in and deal with the intruder. The threat would have to be removed for the sake of the patient, the medical team and the hospital’s reputation as a place where sick people can find help and healing.
This is the threat that prompted Paul to write his first letter to Timothy. In this case, however, the threat to the church was not from the outside, but from within. Some of the elders had begun to teach fables and myths as though they were truth. Some were teaching that Jesus was not coming back. Others were forbidding church members from getting married or “commanding them to abstain from foods which God created to be received with thanksgiving.” Paul had already removed two elders from the fellowship, saying, “their message will spread like cancer.” Why was church discipline urged by Paul? Because the hope and healing that is available through the gospel was compromised by “profane and idle babblings.” It was damaged by disorderly brothers or sisters who refused to walk in accordance with the truth. These men and women were a threat to the health of the church. They were also in need of correction themselves, and the only word of admonishment they would hear was that they had to leave the premises until they could repent. Ultimately, Paul urged Timothy to exercise church discipline because of “the glorious gospel of the blessed God.”
Milton Vincent writes, “Outside of heaven, the power of God in its highest density is found inside the gospel. This must be so, for the Bible twice describes the gospel as ‘the power of God.’ Nothing else in all of Scripture is ever described in this way, except for the Person of Jesus Christ. Such a description indicates that the gospel is not only powerful, but that it is the ultimate entity in which God’s power resides and does its greatest work. Indeed, God’s power is seen in erupting volcanoes, in the unimaginably hot boil of our massive sun, and in the lightning speed of a recently discovered star seen streaking through the heavens at 1.5 million miles per hour. Yet in Scripture such wonders are never labeled ‘the power of God.’ How powerful, then, must the gospel be that it would merit such a title! And how great a salvation it could accomplish in my life, if I would only embrace it by faith and give it a central place in my thoughts each day.” The gospel is at stake!
Church discipline is almost unheard of today because tolerance is elevated over truth, because numbers are the goal, or because the leadership simply lacks the courage to do what the Scriptures clearly teach. What is gained when discipline is avoided pales in comparison to what is lost. Church discipline is not for sissies. It is necessary for churches committed to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

“One first-world baby stuck at the bottom of a well generates more heartfelt anxiety than the 100 million children trapped on the streets of the developing world ever will.”
That’s a quote from Dr. Chi Huang, a founder of Kaya Children International, that I read in Cycling Home from Siberia by Rob Lilwall. Many of you will recognize the reference to a baby named Jessica, who became famous in 1987 when she fell into an 8-inch well in the backyard of her Midland, Texas, home. It took rescuers 58 hours to free “Baby Jessica” from the well casing, where she was trapped 22 feet below the surface.
Lilwall follows Dr. Huang’s quote with this commentary: “The 100 million children in the developing world ‘living down the well’ include children who sleep on the streets with no one to look after them; it includes the children who are sex slaves in brothels; the children who work in grim factories for incredibly low wages; and the children who die in huge numbers from starvation or easily curable diseases.” Some of those children were met by Lilwall as he cycled through places like the Philippines:
Sixty feet ahead of us three boys are leaning against a wall. They watch us approach. They recognize Craig and are pleased to see him, and he speaks to them calmly in Tagalog. The boys stare at me and seem to be asking Craig who I am. They wear ragged T-shirts and shorts and have infected wounds on their legs. The pupils of their eyes are dilated. In their hands they clutch balls of tissue, which they periodically hold up to their noses and sniff.
“They’re inhaling glue,” Craig says, looking at them sadly. “It’s cheaper than food and suppresses their appetite. It is a way for them to escape the pain, but over time it will destroy their immune system and give them brain damage. Drugs, crime, and violence are daily experiences for these children.”
Together, the boys and I follow Craig farther into the cemetery. Rounding a corner of tombstones, we see many more children, though these seem to be too drugged up to notice us. Some of them are young, maybe five years old. Several are asleep, lying on top of the gravestones in the burning morning sun. A young teenage girl shares one slab with a pale, feverish-looking baby. When I ask Craig why the children live here, he says that at least in the cemetery they are usually undisturbed. He says that some are from very poor families whose parents have thrown them out, some are orphans, and many have been so badly abused at home that they ran away. Behind the graves, I see a ten-year-old girl sitting alone in the shade. Her elbows are rested on her knees, and she is staring forward into space. Her eyes are empty. Something about her gaze makes me think not of a child, but of an eightyyear-old who is tired of life.
We cannot do everything, but we can do something. One way to do something is to contact New Directions International, a ministry in our own backyard that is helping to meet the physical needs of thousands of children in developing countries. Ask them about child sponsorship or about their Feed the Hunger program that can come to your church or community group and help you pack nutritious meals for pennies that will then be delivered to hungry children around the world.
Jesus said, “Inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me.”

I remember where I was when I heard the news. Having just finished teaching an 8:00 public speaking class, I was standing with other faculty at college coffee when someone said, “I cannot believe it happened.” She shook her head in shock. “What are you talking about?” I asked. That’s when I heard the news about the attacks on our nation as terrorists commandeered jetliners and flew them into the World Trade Center in New York City. I quickly walked back to the Communications building, where I could see the news as it unfolded on the plasma screen in the hallway. Students and professors were gathered there, watching the news reporters tell the story and show the footage again and again. The horror we felt as we watched passenger planes explode into the twin towers did not diminish, no matter how many times we saw it. The footage that most horrified me was that of people leaping to their death from the towers, knowing they had no chance as the flames threatened to consume them. I tried to console students around me who were visibly shaken, asking them if there was anything I could do. They told me of friends or relatives who lived in New York and whose parents worked in the buildings that we had just watched collapse on live television. I stood and talked with them and offered my prayer support.
I had another class that day, which I held, but the mood was somber, and the students wanted to talk about the attacks. Some had been trying all day to reach friends or relatives near ground zero, or in Washington, D.C. Some were angry at the perpetrators and those who must have masterminded this heinous plot, and these students spoke of retaliation and revenge. Some were still numb, not sure how to process all that they had seen and heard that day. All of them wanted me to turn the television on, which I did. We watched the scene developing in New York City. It was clear that the heroes of the day were the firefighters, policemen, and paramedics who had rushed into the buildings to try and save lives, only to lose their own when the buildings collapsed.
Public speaking topics that semester were different. Many of the students wanted to talk about the terrorist attacks, about radical Islam and Osama bin Laden, about the people who were killed on the planes, towers, or in the Pentagon. They wanted to talk about Todd Beamer, a passenger on United Airlines Flight 93. He kept that plane from becoming a weapon of mass destruction by galvanizing the courage of the other passengers and rushing the cockpit of the plane. The plane crashed in a Pennsylvania field, killing everyone aboard, but it is believed the intended target was the Capitol building or even the White House.
I also remember that there was little or no talk that semester in my classroom about moral relativism. Not one student said, “Well, what the terrorists did may seem wrong to us, but we cannot judge them. There is no absolute right or wrong, after all.” No, that nonsense ceased as the students saw the power of evil at work in the terrorist attack. Some may have understood the truth of God’s Word, “that the whole world lies under the sway of the wicked one.”
Maybe a few even saw that our only hope is found in God and “that we may know Him who is (the) true God and eternal life.”
That is still my prayer, 10 years later.

This week, someone wrote to The Times-News, complaining that the Open Forum is being used as a “platform to discuss religious beliefs and to debate those beliefs.” She went on to suggest that the editor “set some limits for this section to local matters that concern all.” I was frankly amazed at the brazen request, on several levels. First, that the “Open” forum be restricted at all. It reminded me of our sixth president, John Quincy Adams, and his tireless fight to abolish slavery when he served as a congressman after leaving the White House. Certain members of the Congress, weary of hearing the citizens’ petitions each week on slavery, finally got the votes necessary to pass a “gag rule,” which automatically tabled petitions against slavery. John Quincy Adams tried various ways to bypass the order, but it was eight years before Congress came to its senses and re-opened the forum.
Second, I am surprised that someone would petition the editor to limit the Open Forum to only matters that “concern all.” Who would decide which issues concern all and which only concern some? Do letters about the local school board concern all? No, not the 2,500 students and their families who are enrolled in private or home schools, including mine. I read those letters with interest, however, because the education of children in this county affects all of us. Do letters about the Burlington police and their services concern all? No, not those who live outside the city limits, as I do. I read those letters with interest, however, because the safety of our city dwellers affects us all. Do letters about faith and religion concern all? Some would say no. The truth is, however, there are no more important matters that affect the well-being of every citizen of Alamance County than those of faith and religion. Francis Schaeffer said that Christianity is not merely religious truth, it is total truth — truth about the whole of reality. Kent Hughes said the most important thing about a person is what he or she believes about God. Jesus said, “Seek first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness.”
In her book, “Total Truth,” Nancy Pearcey writes, “Most secularists are too politically savvy to attack religion directly or to debunk it as false. So, what do they do? They consign religion to the value sphere — which takes it out of the realm of true and false altogether. Secularists can then assure us that of course they ‘respect’ religion, while at the same time denying that it has any relevance to the public realm.”
The letter to the editor last week stated, “I understand the issue of freedom of speech but, as a reader, I am weary of reading what other people believe, and frankly, could care less. Your religion should be a private matter between you and your God.” In other words, “It is my opinion that matters of belief not be printed in the public forum … except, of course, this matter of belief that I wrote and I hope is printed.” I am thankful that the Times-News printed her letter. Her opinion is valuable and should have its place in the forum. So should yours. I urge all Christians to enter the public forum boldly, to send your letters in that are carefully crafted, wellreasoned, and that stand solidly upon the truth of God’s Word and the gospel of Jesus Christ. “The gospel is like a caged lion,” said Charles Spurgeon. “It does not need to be defended, it just needs to be let out of its cage.” Let it out, Christians!

“It is late October, and the temperature is already negative 40 degrees … My thoughts are filled with frozen rivers that may or may not hold my weight, empty, forgotten valleys haunted by emaciated ghosts, and packs of ravenous, merciless wolves.”
That’s an excerpt from “Cycling Home from Siberia” by Rob Lilwall, a former geography teacher and Southwestern book salesman. Lilwall arrived in Siberia in 2004 with his bicycle, named “Alanis.” Loaded with supplies packed into four panniers, a handlebar bag, and two giant canoe bags, the bike weighed 130 pounds. Lilwall’s goal was to ride his bicycle south from Siberia all the way to Australia (with the help of a ferry or other sea-worthy transport when the road ran out), then north and west all the way back to his home in London. 35,000 miles, three years, 1 bicycle.
The book is a fascinating read about a man’s desire to see the world while hurling himself against an almost impossible physical challenge. He started out cycling with a friend but they separated after the first 5,000 miles because of different visions and styles. The rest of the time, Lilwall cycled alone through frozen tundras, jungles, crowded cities, desolate deserts. He was astonished by the hospitality he received in every country, and was invited to stay with more than 200 people. The trip was not without its danger, though. He was chased by “rascals” in Papua New Guinea (young boys who roam in packs and are notorious for hijacking cars and buses, frequently murdering their victims), bedridden by malaria in Australia, and pursued by bone-chilling cold in Siberia and suffocating heat in Turkmenistan. He repaired 157 tire punctures on the trip, once in Siberia when the temperature was negative 36 degrees. He drank yak butter tea in Tibet, ate 26 tubs of ice cream in Australia, got sick eating intestines in China, and enjoyed kebab in Afghanistan.
There is much more about the three-year ride, including the romance that started in Hong Kong and ended in marriage about two years after the adventure. I enjoyed following the story of Rob and Christine’s blossoming friendship and appreciated their commitment that they would not have sex until their wedding night. So rare!
I also appreciated Rob’s growing faith as he traversed the globe on a bicycle. He met people from all of the major religions of the world. Instead of arriving home with either confusion about what he believed, or with a muddled commitment to the “all roads lead to the top of the mountain” nonsense, Rob was more anchored than ever before in Jesus’ prayer for us: “Sanctify them by Your truth. Your word is truth.”
Lilwall writes, “For me, when the gloves come off, my religion is about a personal God who does not promise us a perfect life, but instead promised he will be with us in both our suffering and our joy… While I am sometimes tempted to water down my beliefs by merging it with other faiths, I believe that my God — like Aslan in the Narnia books — is not a ‘tame lion.’ So I believe it is not a good idea for me to try and tame him by saying all religions are basically the same … As time goes on I believe more strongly that I need to work hard, as a Christian, to respectfully listen to and learn from people of other faiths, while at the same time having the integrity to articulate and live by my own beliefs.”
This book may set you on an adventure of your own.

In her book “Twelve Baskets of Crumbs,” Elisabeth Elliot writes, “‘Tell it like it is’ is the watchword today. But suppose … it’s actually beautiful? Suppose the boy who does your lawn does it fast, trims it perfectly, and takes care of the tools? Suppose the clerk who waits on you happens to be the most gracious one you’ve ever encountered?
“Tell them. Tell them now.”
Did you know that one of the most powerful medicines in the world is praise? It can heal a broken marriage if applied carefully and consistently. It can make a child’s sense of self-worth grow right before your eyes. It can encourage an employee to be creative and diligent. Mark Twain once said, “I can live for two months on a good compliment.” It’s a miracle drug, but it can only be administered from one to another. Self-praise is empty and vain, a shallow substitute for the real thing. That’s why Solomon said, “Let another man praise you, and not your own mouth.”
Praise is a rare gift. Solomon described it this way: “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in settings of silver.” The gifted “praiser” celebrates Christmas every day as he gives precious gifts that cost him only attentiveness and courage.
But be careful. Praise and flattery are mortal enemies. Praise is medicine that gives life; flattery works like poison. Praise is given to benefit the receiver, but flattery is thinly veiled manipulation to benefit the flatterer. Also, be sure to praise character qualities or accomplishments. The need for approval will motivate our children to focus on what we praise. I know, for example, that if I constantly tell my sons and daughters how handsome or pretty they are, I am setting a snare for their feet. Either they will become proud, or they will be deflated if their looks don’t match up to the world’s standards. Our culture sets the highest premium on physical attractiveness, to the point that 98 percent of Miss America contestants said when surveyed they would change something about their looks if they could. Physical attractiveness is a false god that we must not erect in our children’s hearts.
Instead, praise godly character qualities. When Jesus met Nathanael, He said, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit.” He recognized the quality of truthfulness in Nathanael.
Jesus said about his cousin, John the Baptist, “among those born of women there is none greater than John; but he who is least in the kingdom of God is greater than he.” Jesus praised John’s humility.
He blessed the unnamed woman in Simon’s house who washed his feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair, praising her act of selflessness and compassion.
After healing 10 lepers, Jesus praised the one who returned to show his gratitude.
Jesus never praised anyone for his appearance, pedigree, education, material possessions or status in society. Aren’t those the very things we tend to elevate?
Why not set our hearts to become experts at praising others? Why not watch to catch our children in the act of doing something right, and then praise them for it? Why not take a moment and make a list of the qualities in your children, spouse and close friends that are praiseworthy — and then follow through by telling them about those qualities? Be creative in your praise: You can say it with a card, a phone call, an invitation to lunch, a gift, or a word face to face.
Go ahead, make their day. Give them the gift of sincere praise.

This past weekend was meticulously planned. Well, let me qualify that. It was about as planned as it could be by my standards. My motto is, “If I get there and I don’t have it, well, that’s what Walmart is for.” My wife’s motto is, “If I am leaving the house and I have forgotten something, then the four checklists, six spreadsheets and four days of planning that would rival the preparation for D-Day were not enough.” I am kidding about Cindy, but some of you men will recognize this statement as you are backing out of the garage to go on vacation or even just to church: “I just feel like I have forgotten something.” She often looks at me as she says it, and I will say, “Of course you feel that way, darling. But you never do forget anything. And if you did, well, that’s what Walmart is for.”
This weekend trip was just me and my five sons, and we were headed for the mountains to camp, cook over the open fire, laugh a lot, and talk about our lives. The campsite was a little more than two hours away from home, and about 15 miles from our destination the transmission started to give up the ghost. That’s what I forgot to bring, I thought. A spare transmission! All the rental car places were closed, so we limped back toward Burlington, thinking that if the tranny was going to die completely, the closer to home we were, the better.
Four hours later, we arrived at a lake lot owned by a family in the church, just 20 miles from home, and tried to pick the lock to the Dutch barn on their property, with their permission, of course. That’s another thing our spreadsheet failed to include: a lock-pick. We gave up after an hour and decided to pitch our tent in the dark. I wasn’t worried about sleeping; my friend Mark had loaned us their tent and a queen-size air mattress. I realized as we were setting up camp that I forgot a pump. The prospect of two hours of blowing up the mattress left me feeling breathless, and there wasn’t a Walmart in sight, so I slept on the queen-size sheets.
We built a fire, ate s’mores, and talked about college, relationships, jobs and future plans. The next day we had planned to drive north a few miles to play disc golf. That plan was changed when we realized the transmission had not been healed as we slept, so we started toward home. A 20-mile trip took an hour and included some scenes worthy of a sitcom episode as Micah drove while the rest of us jumped out and pushed the van up hills, then made a mad dash to jump back into the moving vehicle. Don’t try this at home or even in Caswell County.
We traded the van in for two worthier vehicles back at the house and still got in three hours of disc golf. Judah said later, “That was the best day of my life.”
This camping trip will go down in the Foxian chronicles and be told for generations. It was not at all what we planned, but it was everything we needed, and a powerful reminder that “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.” We can trust him for a camping trip, for a college career, for a marriage decision, and for every other step we take.
It’s often the unplanned that makes the best memories. Still, next time, we’re taking Micah’s car.

 Followers of the one true God are told repeatedly in the Bible to worship him in the sanctuary. In the Old Testament, that was a physical place where the priests served and the people of God came to offer sacrifices and worship. After the cross, where Jesus made the perfect sacrifice, necessary and efficient for the forgiveness of all who come to him by faith, the sanctuary became the human heart. Paul asked the church at Corinth, “Or do you not know that your body is the temple (sanctuary) of the Holy Spirit who is in you?” That means that worship is no longer a weekly event or a service or an isolated act. Worship is a way of life. In fact, for the believer, to live is to worship God. Paul said, “To live is Christ and to die is gain” (more Christ).
That means that we worship God everywhere, including when we gather as believers in the church building. Sunday morning should be the culmination of a week of worship. The explosive joy of the Sunday morning worship experience will reflect the daily celebration of the people of God that cannot be contained in quiet contemplation when they gather in the same room, often called “the sanctuary.” Boring? Only if the leaders are dulled in their own walk with Christ or if the people are there for ritual rather than relationship. Dry? Only if the preacher’s soul and Bible are dusty. Or if the hearts of the people are cracked, unable to hold the pure water of God’s Word because they have lived that week consumed with self, pursuing their own pleasures, ignoring the daily promptings of the God who loves them and bought them with a price. As I am writing this column, an old friend stopped by my table at Starbucks to talk about something the Lord has been teaching him about worship. “My wife has read a book recently about addictions,” he said. “And on the back cover it says, ‘addiction is a worship disorder.’” That’s it. We were created to worship God, and he alone can fill our heart and soul and satisfy us.
Even the very young, whose lives are being transformed by the grace of God, understand the wealth of worship with the followers of Jesus. I got this email from a woman in our church whose son attended a local vacation Bible school, and on the way home one night, he shared the following story:
Mom, tonight my teacher was teaching us about the tabernacle and the high priest, and was talking about the sanctuary of the church and the pastor kind of being the same idea. Well, some of the kids in my class popped up saying things like, ‘I don’t like the sanctuary!’ ‘Yeah, me neither, I don’t like big church; it’s so boring in the sanctuary!’ My teacher said, ‘Well, that’s why you have kids’ church, but when you’re an adult you’ll like big church.’ So I raised my hand, and when the teacher called on me I said, ‘My friend Noah here (I pointed to Noah and he smiled and waved) heard our pastor, Pastor Mark, say a few weeks ago that it was ungodly to not read your Bible, and he’s been reading it every day since! And then his dad, Mr. Jeremy, shared that in church this week, and I heard that, and I’ve been reading my Bible every day since. So kids can learn things from the pastor in church, too.” Young children can lead us, especially when they see worship through God’s eyes.