The other day as I was headed for work, I saw a strange sight indeed. Three wood storks were standing on the edge of a small pond near our house, two of them standing together and the third on the other side of the pond. Now, in and of itself, seeing woodstorks is a remarkable treat in south Georgia. These are endangered species who have declined precipitously in recent years and can most reliably be seen only along the coast and in Florida. But what made the sight so strange was the fact that they were here when they were -- in mid-January.
Wood storks are migratory and spend the colder winter months in central Florida and regions south, not in south Georgia. They typically come up here in late March and stay until the weather starts to turn cooler again in September and October. As I drove by, I thought to myself that I knew exactly what those wood storks were thinking: "Man, it's cold out here! Whose bright idea was it to leave Florida and come north so early?" And, I guessed, it must have been the bright idea of the lone woodstork who was on the other side of the pond, distant from his relatives.
As I thought about that all day, a not-too-uncommon analogy with the modern church popped into my mind. How like those woodstorks are we? When someone makes a mistake, sins against us, disagrees in a church board meeting, or just otherwise enters into conflict with us, how often do we respond as the two woodstorks did? How often do we isolate the offender, refusing to allow them to have any part of fellowship with us? Oh, we probably won't kick them out of church (assuming this is where the conflict took place). We'd still welcome them in, but just like the woodstorks, we'd assume a cold shoulder and keep our distance even though we're all standing around the same pond (church).
I think this tendency in ourselves negates one of the biggest arguments against Christianity that I hear. When I witness to people and tell them the simple plan of salvation, that through faith, by grace, and not by works, they can come to see their sins forgiven and enter into eternal life with God, invariably I will have some tell me, "That can't work. It's too simple. You have to do more." In their minds, believing in Christ alone for salvation is too easy. "Forgiveness of sins demands more," they reason. "We have to do something. We can't let Jesus do it all." And so they rush around, trying to be holy, trying to be good, so they might earn their way into heaven.
But, when you think about it, whose tenet is actually the hardest to follow? The Christians who say all you have to do is believe in Christ, or those who feel you have to add something to Christ's death on the cross? I would contend it is the Christians, for it seems to be relatively simple to imagine working your way to heaven. Just ask the Pharisees. All you have to do is come up with a list of rights and wrongs, and make sure that at the end of the day, the number of rights that you did outweighed the number of wrongs. Or, if you want to get fancy, weight the rights and the wrongs and make their importance vary considering the holiness or sinfulness of the act. This way, since murder is so heinous, you know you have to do more than just help an old lady across the street to make up for it. You might have to help five old ladies.
This, in my mind, is simple. It meets all the criteria for goals that we have preached to us in church and in our secular jobs. It is definable. It is quantifiable. It is measurable. And, at the end of the day, you know exactly where you stand. Simple strategy for salvation.
But, the proponents of this don't see it that way. "It's much harder to live holy than it is to just believe in Jesus. Believing in Jesus is too easy. That can't be right." But, there's the rub. They are wrong. Believing in Jesus is not easy, and we can see that clearly demonstrated in the way we relate to others. Believing in Jesus means more than just knowledge that Jesus lived and died and was resurrected. The Bible tells us that even the demons believe that. Believing in Jesus means, not only do you know Jesus lived and died, but you are placing your trust in His death and resurrection. You are admitting that there is no other way but through Him, and you are putting all of your eggs in one basket, as it were. This sounds simple, but the hard part comes in actually living out your belief.
Just this past week, one of the most Godly men I know came to me and confessed that he had unforgiveness in his heart. "I just can't forgive this person. I know I'm supposed to, but I just can't." And, that is what makes believing in Christ so much more difficult than earning your way to heaven. Believing in Christ means that you not only trust His death and resurrection for your salvation, but that you allow Him to live in you and work through so that your relations with others mirror His relation with you. It means that you trust that the same blood that forgave you of your sins can also forgive another. It means more than just living a holy life on your own and doing more good than bad, it means trusting in the power of Christ to turn the curse of sin from all. When we can't forgive others, we are saying more about what we believe about Christ than anything else.
People do horrible things in life. They commit sins and violent acts against us and against God. But, as Christians, we are called to hate the sin and not the sinner. To love them into fellowship, to point them to the One who can cleanse them of every sin, no matter how vile, no matter how great in our eyes. To believe that Jesus has cleansed them of their sin. And to live in harmony and unity with all of our brothers and sisters. Anyone who thinks this is easy is just fooling themselves. All you have to do is go to a church board meeting, or hear the subcurrents of conflict rippling among the congregation, and you will quickly discover that to live this way -- to live life truly believing in Christ -- is the hardest thing you can do.
The path to salvation is easy, at least for us. Jesus walked that path for us. He paid the price with His own body and blood. But He is calling us to follow Him, to receive His free gift, and to live in that gift in our relationship with others. Not easy. Not simple. But possible through the power of the Holy Spirit within us.
When I got home that day, I drove again past the pond with the woodstorks. The sun had come out and the temperatures had warmed slightly. And I smiled inside as I saw those three woodstorks again, this time all three standing in one group, fishing happily in the waters of that little pond. Oh, that we might be as forgiving as they. Oh, that we might believe as they.
1 comment:
Dear and Gentle Brother in Christ,
I would like to invite you to visit my humble journal, as I start my tenure upon this continent. I understand that we are both in the colony of Georgia, yet I have not heard of the denizens of Valdosta. You must be serveral days by horseback from my modest abode.
I have been elucidated by your musings and wish to make your most courteous acquaintance whilst in the Americas.
I am most curious about the manner in which clergy conduct themselves in the colonies, as I am a newly arrived pastor and do not wish to offend the faithful and the savages. So prithee hence to my journal and let us hold each other accountable in our mutual love of Christ.
I remain God's humble servant,
John Wesley
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