The kitty offer was forgotten in all the business of life. But true to his word, the neighbor showed up about a month later with a box. “Here he is, ready for John. Let me carry the box to the basement for you.”
So they permitted the neighbor to take the box to the basement. He seemed in a hurry to leave, so they did not think too much about it that he did not open the box. They called John in for the great moment. Imagine, to their great surprise, that when John opened the box, out jumped a large black and white … skunk!

It was too late. The frightened animal ran among the boxes of “stuff” stored in the basement and refused to come out. Poor John got sprayed in the process. What a nasty trick!

Aaron tried for many days to get the animal out of his house, but nothing availed. It got to the point that the skunk would immediately raise its tail and turn its rear end towards whoever opened the basement door, in preparation of defending itself. After twice getting blasted with spray, Aaron was at his wit’s end.

Then came the first of the month, when the rent was due. Aaron approached his landlord, and hesitatingly told the story of the skunk, and asked forgiveness for the terrible plight he had created for himself—and the house!

The landlord was gracious. He forgave Aaron, but gently reminded Aaron that he was responsible for the whole mess, and for getting the skunk out. So Aaron returned home, relieved to be forgiven, but perplexed with his plight.

Another whole month passed. Aaron still had the skunk in the basement, and he went to pay his rent. “I forgive you, Aaron. But remember it is your fault that the skunk got in there. You should get him out.”

So it went, month after month. Always forgiven, but the problem never went away. Until one day … John was looking out the window. Here came the landlord’s son carrying a trap. “Look!” he cried, “Here comes the landlord’s son to take away the skunk in the basement!”

Realizing that Aaron was incapable of getting himself out of his own mess, the landlord had pity on him and sent his son to take away the skunk in the basement. Yes, the skunk was caught in the trap, and the landlord’s son did get smelly in the process, but he took away the troublesome skunk.

Do you see the difference between the forgiveness of God, and the Lamb (His Son) that “taketh away” the sin of the world? God had been forgiving humanity of their sins ever since the beginning, if they would but humbly ask Him. It was man’s fault that sin entered the world, and it was not God’s responsibility to take it away. But He, being righteous (true righteous meaning “doing above and beyond what we are obligated to do”), took it upon Himself to supply the remedy, and sent His Son into the world to take sin away—remove it!

Now, the skunk removed and the deed forgiven, Aaron can be assured of a good continual relationship with his landlord. And we, having sin taken away (purged by the Spirit of God coming into our heart) and forgiven of our misdeeds, can walk in assurance of peace with our God.

Jesus saved the world by taking away its sin! And whosoever will may partake of this salvation.

–Mike Atnip

How can you keep a pig out of the mud?

The kingdom of heaven is like unto a farmer’s son who was raising a pig for a 4-H project. Fair time was approaching fast, and Pete (the boy) was having a hard time keeping his pet clean. As all pigs are wont to do, it would instinctively investigate every mud puddle that it happened upon—even immediately after Pete had given him a good scrubbing with firm instructions to stay clean!

Pete knew that he stood no chance of winning the blue ribbon if he took a dirty pig to the show. But try as he might, he could not get his pig to keep himself clean once he had been given a thorough scrubbing. Pete’s only place to keep his pig was in a pen in which one corner stayed dry, but 90% of the pen was a mud hole—much to the pig’s great delight!

Pete schemed for days about his dilemma. How could he save his pig from his own natural instincts? He could put his pig in a strait jacket, but what would the judges think when he arrived at the fair with his pig in a strait jacket? And how could he walk his pig to town in a strait jacket? Oodles of puddles lay in the path to town, and he knew, he just knew, that his pet could never detour a mud puddle!

Finally, the great idea came upon Pete. He noticed that Skimps the kitty hated mud puddles! It would cost the life of his only kitty, but if only …

So he tried it. With a deft operation, Pete managed to take the soul out of the cat and put it into his pig.

How changed the pig was! He still weighed 220 pounds. He still had a snout and a curly tail. He still ate breakfast. But how he hated mud puddles with a passion!

The day of the show came, and Pete walked his pig to the fair. People stared in wonder at the boy and his pig walking down the puddle-filled road. The pig detoured or jumped over every mud puddle, with the amazing agility of a cat!

And so the pig, which had been given a thorough scrubbing some days previously, arrived at the show shining clean. What few spots he had received on the way to the show were promptly licked clean … you know, just like Skimps used to clean himself! By this means, Pete won the blue ribbon. The soul of the kitty in the body of the pig had saved the day!

This parable is by no means perfect. Yet it explains how that man can avoid the “mud puddles” of fleshly delights which fill this world we live in. Not by strait jackets, but by a change of character. If we box ourselves out of society by moving to some remote island, we may avoid many temptations. But that is not true freedom. The real freedom comes from having the character of Jesus placed into our hearts by a new birth. When this happens, we will hate sin just like the pig with a kitty heart hated those mud puddles.

Have you been born again? Has the nature of God been restored in you? Although we know that Pete could never put a kitty soul into a pig, we know that God can put Christ within us, thus saving us from our sin.

Hallelujah, what a salvation! ~Mike Atnip

Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust. 2 Pe. 1:4

Speakers include Nelson Gingerich, PA; David Graber, FL; Jerry Hoover, OH; Roger Hertzler, OR; Edward Kline, OH; John D. Martin, PA; Nathan Overholt, FL; Johnny Swartzentruber, GA; Chester Weaver, IN
For information, call 941-373-9351 or 941-371-8991.

-Thomas von Imbroich, taken from one of the letters to his wife, which he wrote to her in prison- mid 1500s. (From the book, Golden Apples in Silver Bowls)

Fruit or Doctrine? Which will be judged by?

Click the link for a
Book review of Will the Theologians Please Sit Down, by David Bercot.

“Come, give your hand,” said the smiling World,
“And together we shall go!”
But the good Church hid her snowy hand
And solemnly answered, “No!!

I will not give you my hand at all,
And I will not walk with you.
Your way is the way of eternal death,
And your words are all untrue.”

“No, walk with me a little ways,”
Said the World with a kindly air.
“The road I walk is a pleasant road,
And the sun shines always there.

Your path is thorny and rough and rude,
But mine is broad and plain;
My way is paved with flowers and dews,
And yours with tears and pain.

The sky to me is always blue,
No lack, no toil I know;
The sky above you is always dark;
Your lot is a lot of woe.

My way, you can see, is a soft easy one,
And my gate is high and wide;
There is room enough for you and me;
So let’s travel side by side.”

Half shyly the Church approached the World
And gave him her hand of snow;
And the false World grasped it, and walked along
And whispered in accents low,

“Your dress is too simple to please my taste;
I have pinks and oranges to wear,
Sensuous hues for your graceful form
And sprays to fluff your hair.”

Then added he, with a shake of his head,
Shielding his eyes in the glare,
“It makes much sense in this fierce sunshine
Your comely calves to bare.”

The Church looked down at her plain, modest clothes
And then at the dazzling World,
And blushed as she saw his handsome lip,
With a smile contemptuous curled.

“I will change my dress for a prettier one,”
Said the Church with a smile of grace;
So her simple garments were stashed away,
And the World gave, in their place,

Beautiful satins and flowery sheens,
With roses and lace and swirls;
While over her forehead her bright hair fell
In two bouncy, enticing curls.

“Your house is too plain” said the proud old World,
“Let us build you one like mine,
With kitchen for feasting and rec room for play
And cabinets never so fine.”

So he built her a costly and beautiful house;
Awesome it was to behold!
Her sons and her daughters met frequently there,
Shining in purple and gold.

There were cushioned seats for the lazy and rich,
To sit in their glutton and pride;
But the poor who were clad in humble array,
Were scorned ‘til they went outside.

Powerpoints and films in the halls were shown,
And the World and his children were there.
Laughter and music and ping-pong were heard
In the place that was meant for prayer.

The angel in mercy rebuked the Church,
And whispered, “I know thy sin.”
Then the Church looked sad, and anxiously longed
To gather the children in.

But some were away at the midnight bowl,
And others online did play,
And some were hangin’ at Pizza Hut:
So the angel went away.

Then said the World in soothing tones,
“Your children mean no harm—
Merely indulging in innocent sports,”
So she leaned on his proffered arm,

And smiled, and chatted, and downloaded photos,
And walked along with the World,
While countless millions of precious souls.
Over the fearful brink were hurled.

“Your preachers are too old-fashioned and plain,”
Said the smart World with a sneer.
“They frighten my children with dreadful tales
Which I do not like to hear.

They talk of judgments and fire and pain,
And the doom of darkest night.
They warn of a place that should not be
Mentioned to ears polite!

I will send you some of a better stamp,
More brilliant, educated, fast;
Who will show how men their flesh may please
And go to heaven at last.

The Father is merciful, great and good;
Loving and tender and kind.
Do you think He’d take one child to heaven
And leave another behind?”

So she called for pleasing and smart divines,
Deemed gifted and great and learned;
And the plain-spoken men who had preached the cross
Were out of her pulpits turned.

Then Mammon came in and supported the Church
And sat in a well-padded pew;
And preaching and chorals and floral display
Soon proclaimed a gospel new.

“You give too much to the poor,” said the World,
“Far more than you ought to do;
Though the poor need shelter, food, and clothes,
Why thus need it deprive you?

And afar to the heathen in foreign lands
Your thoughts need seldom roam.
The Father of mercies will care for them:
Let charity start at home.

Go take your money and buy nice shoes
And cars and pickups fine;
And phones and ipods and cameras,
The latest and costliest kind.

My children, they dote on all such things,
And if you their love would win,
You must do as they do, and walk in the way—
The up-to-date way they’re in.”

The Church her purse snaps tightly shut
And shamefully lowered her head.
She whimpered, “I’ve given too much away.
I will do, sir, as you have said.”

So the poor were pushed out her mind;
She heard not the orphan’s cry;
And she silently covered her Mastercard
As the widows went weeping by.

Thus they of the Church and they of the World
Journeyed closely, hand and heart.
And none but the Master, who knows all things,
Understood they had once walked apart.

Then the Church sat down at ease and said,
“I am rich and in goods increased.
I have need of nothing, and naught to do,
But to play, to sing, and to eat.”

The sly World heard her and laughed in his sleeve,
And mockingly said aside,
“The Church has fallen, the beautiful Church;
Her shame is her boast and pride.”

Thus her witnessing power, alas, was lost,
And perilous times came in;
The times of the end, so often foretold,
Of form and pleasure and sin.

Then the angel drew near the mercy seat
And whispered in sighs her name,
And the saints their anthems of rapture hushed
And covered their heads with shame.

A voice came down from the hush of heaven,
From Him who sat on the throne;
“I know your works and what you have said—
But alas! You have not known,

That you are poor and naked and blind,
With pride and ruin ensnarled;
The expectant bride of a heavenly Groom
Is the harlot of the World!

You have ceased to watch for that blessed hope,
Have fallen from zeal and grace;
So now, alas! I must cast you out
And blot your name from its place.”