A good opening line is vital for writers. If the first line doesn't grab you, chances are you probably won't read much further. A bad opening line is death for a novelist – but a great source of amusement for the rest of the world. Believe it or not, there is a contest for the worst of the worst: the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest. A few of my favorites from this year's contest:
Through the verdant plains of North Umbria walked Waylon Ogglethorpe and, as he walked, the clouds whispered his name, the birds of the air sang his praises, and the beasts of the fields from smallest to greatest said, "There goes the most noble among men" -- in other words, a typical stroll for a schizophrenic ventriloquist with delusions of grandeur.
Tom Wallace, Columbia, SC
She walked into my office wearing a body that would make a man write bad checks, but in this paperless age you would first have to obtain her ABA Routing Transit Number and Account Number and then disable your own Overdraft Protection in order to do so.
Steve Lynch, San Marcos, CA
As Holmes, who had a nose for danger, quietly fingered the bloody knife and eyed the various body parts strewn along the dark, deserted highway, he placed his ear to the ground and, with his heart in his throat, silently mouthed to his companion, “Arm yourself, Watson, there is an evil hand afoot ahead.
Dennis Pearce, Lexington, KY
Not exactly Dickens or Grisham, is it? Opening lines are vital.
So are closing lines.
Think of the movie Casablanca. “Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Can you imagine if the last line had been, “You're an OK guy, Louis.” No one would have quoted that 60 years after the fact.
Or take Gone With The Wind. “Tara! Home. I'll go home. And I'll think of some way to get him back. After all... tomorrow is another day.” A classic closing line.
Jesus' ministry began with a great opening line – straight from the Father Himself. "This is my Son, chosen and marked by my love, delight of my life." (Matthew 3:17, MSG) Quite the ringing endorsement from the Creator of the universe.
Amazingly enough, He wants to speak these words to each of us, as well. Think about it: All through scripture, we are called children of God (Matthew 18:1-5, Ephesians 5:1, I Peter 1:15). And the love of God for His kids is well documented (Romans 5:8, Psalm 59:17). Knowing this, is it really that much of a stretch to hear the words He spoke of Jesus spoken of us as well?
Here's the cool part: The last words that God speaks audibly to Jesus? The very same words. "This is my Son, marked by my love, focus of my delight. Listen to him." (Matthew 17:5, MSG) Peter, as an eye (ear?) witness, verifies this later (II Peter 1:15-17). Not a bad couple of lines to bookend an amazing period in a man's life. And, again, He longs to say these words to us. At the end of our earthly lives, the Father wants desperately to look into our eyes and say to each one of us, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” (Matthew 25:23)
I wish I had a great closing line to end this, but I can't outdo the Man Upstairs. Live your life in this Truth:
“You are My child, marked by My love, focus of My delight.”
Monday, July 26, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
The Rules . . .
I just watched the NCIS season finale. This is easily one of my favorite shows. Great stories, good mystery with liberal doses of comedy thrown in . . . just great stuff. The finale tonight dealt a lot with Gibbs’ rules. This list numbers into the 50’s now, and it’s basically Gibbs’ code of conduct; how he approaches life, what he’s learned through experience, etc. Simply put, if you know the rules, you know the man.
Gibbs’ rules are interesting. They range from the practical (#2 – Always wear gloves at a crime scene) to the borderline paranoid (#40 – If it seems someone is out to get you, they are), from instructional (#7 – Always be specific when you lie) to what can only be learned the hard way (#12 – Never date a coworker). A new, almost philosophical rule was added tonight: #51 – Sometimes, you’re wrong.
So, all this talk of rules of conduct got me to thinking; what rules do I live by? What is my code of conduct? The easy. Sunday-school answer is “well, the Bible, of course!” The problem with that is twofold: 1) the Bible is 66 books of direction on how to live. Very few people that I know of have memorized the entire thing and can recall specific verses on a moment’s notice. 2) No one can possibly live up to everything in the Bible every day. (Romans 3:23 – For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of His glorious standard.) In light of this, I’ve decided to compile my own list of rules. I’m sure this will take some time to bring together, but I already know rule #1: It’s always about people.
C. S. Lewis said, “You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body.” And, elsewhere, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” We are all eternal beings in temporary homes. Our bodies will wither and die (I know, pleasant thought, isn’t it?), but our souls will go on for eternity. It’s our souls that make us who we are. Our bodies only contain us. So, doesn’t it make sense to invest in something eternal over something temporary? Possessions will break and become obsolete when the “next big thing” comes along. Bones break, bodies get sick, and eventually go back to the dust from whence they came. But the spirit, the soul . . . these will exist from this realm into the next.
This is why my 1st inviolable rule is what it is. It always has to be about people, because Jesus was always about people. Just read through the New Testament. Everything he said and did was an investment in the lives of people so that they could spend eternity with Him. Jesus knew that this earthly life is not the beginning and end of it all. This is just a blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things. I want to be about what Jesus was about, and that boils down to one word: people.
How about you? If you were to compile a personal list of rules, what’s #1?
Thursday, May 20, 2010
The truth must come out . . .
So, I guess it’s time for me to come out of the geek closet (as if there were any question of my geekiness up until now) . . . I like the music of “Weird Al” Yankovic. There, I said it. I feel cleansed now.
In all seriousness, there’s a certain art to what Weird Al does. I mean, who else do you know that has made a very successful career out of parodying the music of other artists? He’s so successful, in fact, that most singers/musicians consider it a barometer of their success when Weird Al does one of their songs.
And when he decides to parody a video . . . well, he doesn’t mess around. He makes it look as close to the original as possible while throwing in his own unique touches. This classic, for example. It’s brilliant, really. So, yes . . . I’m a fan.
That being said, the art of the parody should probably remain in the realm of music. I’ve sadly noticed that parodies have started to sneak into areas of life where it really doesn’t belong . . . like our spiritual lives.
Much like Weird Al taking a song and making it look and sound as much like the original as possible, ultimately, it becomes a big joke. And I’ve seen too many people try to make their lives look and sound like what they think God wants it to be . . . and it’s a joke. A sad, pitiful joke. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been one of those people, too.
For so many years, I labored under the delusion that if I said the right words, if I did the right things, then my life would be . . . well, right. After all, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck . . .
Well, I was sadly mistaken. I see that now. I was putting on a show so that others would think well of me and so that God would like me, which is completely counter to what Jesus actually taught. “Be especially careful when you are trying to be good so that you don’t make a performance out f it. It might be good theater, but the God who made you won’t be applauding. When you do something for someone else, don’t call attention to yourself. You’ve seen them in action, I’m sure – ‘playactors’ I call them – treating prayer meeting and street corner alike as a stage, acting compassionate as long as someone is watching, playing to the crowds. They get applause, true, but that’s al they get. When you help someone, don’t think about how it looks. Just do it – quietly and unobtrusively. That is the way your God, who conceived you in love, working behind the scenes, helps you out.” (Matthew 6:1-4, Message)
In other words, don’t be a parody of the life Jesus has actually called you to. If you try to approximate the life He’s called you to, but with your own tweaks added in . . . then the joke is on you.
In all seriousness, there’s a certain art to what Weird Al does. I mean, who else do you know that has made a very successful career out of parodying the music of other artists? He’s so successful, in fact, that most singers/musicians consider it a barometer of their success when Weird Al does one of their songs.
And when he decides to parody a video . . . well, he doesn’t mess around. He makes it look as close to the original as possible while throwing in his own unique touches. This classic, for example. It’s brilliant, really. So, yes . . . I’m a fan.
That being said, the art of the parody should probably remain in the realm of music. I’ve sadly noticed that parodies have started to sneak into areas of life where it really doesn’t belong . . . like our spiritual lives.
Much like Weird Al taking a song and making it look and sound as much like the original as possible, ultimately, it becomes a big joke. And I’ve seen too many people try to make their lives look and sound like what they think God wants it to be . . . and it’s a joke. A sad, pitiful joke. As much as I hate to admit it, I’ve been one of those people, too.
For so many years, I labored under the delusion that if I said the right words, if I did the right things, then my life would be . . . well, right. After all, if it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck . . .
Well, I was sadly mistaken. I see that now. I was putting on a show so that others would think well of me and so that God would like me, which is completely counter to what Jesus actually taught. “Be especially careful when you are trying to be good so that you don’t make a performance out f it. It might be good theater, but the God who made you won’t be applauding. When you do something for someone else, don’t call attention to yourself. You’ve seen them in action, I’m sure – ‘playactors’ I call them – treating prayer meeting and street corner alike as a stage, acting compassionate as long as someone is watching, playing to the crowds. They get applause, true, but that’s al they get. When you help someone, don’t think about how it looks. Just do it – quietly and unobtrusively. That is the way your God, who conceived you in love, working behind the scenes, helps you out.” (Matthew 6:1-4, Message)
In other words, don’t be a parody of the life Jesus has actually called you to. If you try to approximate the life He’s called you to, but with your own tweaks added in . . . then the joke is on you.
Saturday, November 28, 2009
All I want for Christmas . . .
It’s now officially the Christmas season. People are now rushing around, trying to get the best deals on gifts for friends and loved ones. Gadgets and toys, all priced to move, the perfect way to show people just how much you love them.
Pardon the above sarcasm, but the older I grow, the less I understand the correlation between stuff and affection. Is the trading of items the best way we know of showing each other that we care? I refuse to believe that. That’s not the example of love that has been set before us.
Sacrifice is the level of love to which we are called. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) This is the example we’ve been given to follow. This is how Jesus showed His love for us, by giving His life in exchange for ours, so that we could know the Father, so that we, as broken, flawed people, could be seen as flawless by God, and rescued from the Hell that would await us otherwise.
Every year, my parents ask me what I want for Christmas, and every year I struggle with what to ask for. I insist that I really don’t want or need anything, and they press until I name something. I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s just that, while in the past I’d have had no trouble listing off a litany of things that would make my life “easier,” or “better,” now I find that all I want is to see my folks and spend some time with them, to live more fully in the life that Jesus has set before me, to live out the plans He has laid out for me, and . . . well, you get the idea. These are things that can’t be found in any store. They’re matters of the heart, and there is no price tag that can be placed on them. Make no mistake, “stuff” may help the economy right now, but the most important commodity our world has is the human heart and the condition of the soul. “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” (C. S. Lewis, “The Weight Of Glory”)
So, along with the physical gifts that tradition demands we buy, let your heart be known as well. I am blessed to have people in my life who are very good at this, and I strive to be better at it. My prayer is that this Christmas is less about the material, and far more about the eternal.
Merry Christmas, my friends. May God bless you far beyond anything you could imagine.
Pardon the above sarcasm, but the older I grow, the less I understand the correlation between stuff and affection. Is the trading of items the best way we know of showing each other that we care? I refuse to believe that. That’s not the example of love that has been set before us.
Sacrifice is the level of love to which we are called. There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. “There is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) This is the example we’ve been given to follow. This is how Jesus showed His love for us, by giving His life in exchange for ours, so that we could know the Father, so that we, as broken, flawed people, could be seen as flawless by God, and rescued from the Hell that would await us otherwise.
Every year, my parents ask me what I want for Christmas, and every year I struggle with what to ask for. I insist that I really don’t want or need anything, and they press until I name something. I’m not complaining, mind you. It’s just that, while in the past I’d have had no trouble listing off a litany of things that would make my life “easier,” or “better,” now I find that all I want is to see my folks and spend some time with them, to live more fully in the life that Jesus has set before me, to live out the plans He has laid out for me, and . . . well, you get the idea. These are things that can’t be found in any store. They’re matters of the heart, and there is no price tag that can be placed on them. Make no mistake, “stuff” may help the economy right now, but the most important commodity our world has is the human heart and the condition of the soul. “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.” (C. S. Lewis, “The Weight Of Glory”)
So, along with the physical gifts that tradition demands we buy, let your heart be known as well. I am blessed to have people in my life who are very good at this, and I strive to be better at it. My prayer is that this Christmas is less about the material, and far more about the eternal.
Merry Christmas, my friends. May God bless you far beyond anything you could imagine.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
The Uprising . . . it's time!
At what point did we begin to value comfort over obedience? Safety over passion? Rationale over Truth? In an era of political correctness, how did we usher in a sort of spiritual correctness as well? I find myself offended at the effort to be less offensive.
Those of us here in America are fortunate to enjoy the freedoms we have, especially on the area of faith. Sure, as followers of Christ, we tend to be ridiculed a bit, but if that’s the worst of it, we can handle it. As long as we’re not making waves, not upsetting the status quo, then we’re pretty much left to worship in whatever manner we choose . . . just don’t disturb anyone else.
I have lived a great deal of my life in this mode. I kept to myself, did my little church gig, and I was safe. I was comfortable. And I was bored out of my mind. I knew there was something more out there, but I wasn’t willing to leave my realm of safety to find it.
As I look more and more closely at the life of Jesus, he wasn’t just this kind, sweet, sensitive guy that spouted wisdom and went on his way. He was confrontational. He was passionate. He railed against injustice. He spoke Truth that people needed to hear rather than give people the sunshine and roses they thought they wanted to hear. He taught his disciples to do the same. And he calls us to do the same.
So what happened? How did we get from there to here? We’ve traded the call of Christ for a safe, comfortable, insignificant life. We’ve forgotten that the Truth is dangerous and revolutionary. We’ve forgotten that Jesus wasn’t always sweet and nice. Jesus provoked radical thought, stirred hearts, and attracted trouble to himself and those that called him friend and Master. So why have we allowed our minds and hearts to grow numb in these days?
It’s time to reignite the revolution! It’s time for the Uprising to begin anew! If you feel, like I do, that we’ve grown too safe, too tame in our faith and our relationship with Christ, then step up, if you dare! Let your one and only life on this globe count for more than looking out for yourself! The gauntlet has been thrown, and it’s your call: do you pick it up and accept the challenge, or will you just let it fall by the wayside, left unanswered? Check out www.theuprising.net if you want to make a difference in this world and impact eternity . . .
Those of us here in America are fortunate to enjoy the freedoms we have, especially on the area of faith. Sure, as followers of Christ, we tend to be ridiculed a bit, but if that’s the worst of it, we can handle it. As long as we’re not making waves, not upsetting the status quo, then we’re pretty much left to worship in whatever manner we choose . . . just don’t disturb anyone else.
I have lived a great deal of my life in this mode. I kept to myself, did my little church gig, and I was safe. I was comfortable. And I was bored out of my mind. I knew there was something more out there, but I wasn’t willing to leave my realm of safety to find it.
As I look more and more closely at the life of Jesus, he wasn’t just this kind, sweet, sensitive guy that spouted wisdom and went on his way. He was confrontational. He was passionate. He railed against injustice. He spoke Truth that people needed to hear rather than give people the sunshine and roses they thought they wanted to hear. He taught his disciples to do the same. And he calls us to do the same.
So what happened? How did we get from there to here? We’ve traded the call of Christ for a safe, comfortable, insignificant life. We’ve forgotten that the Truth is dangerous and revolutionary. We’ve forgotten that Jesus wasn’t always sweet and nice. Jesus provoked radical thought, stirred hearts, and attracted trouble to himself and those that called him friend and Master. So why have we allowed our minds and hearts to grow numb in these days?
It’s time to reignite the revolution! It’s time for the Uprising to begin anew! If you feel, like I do, that we’ve grown too safe, too tame in our faith and our relationship with Christ, then step up, if you dare! Let your one and only life on this globe count for more than looking out for yourself! The gauntlet has been thrown, and it’s your call: do you pick it up and accept the challenge, or will you just let it fall by the wayside, left unanswered? Check out www.theuprising.net if you want to make a difference in this world and impact eternity . . .
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Remebrance
Tonight was kind of a hard night at church. My pastor talked about “What Happens 30 Seconds After You Die.” It was not easy territory. He spoke of when his mother died while he was in his mid 20’s, and it reminded me of when my Mom passed away almost 10 years ago.
In October of ‘08, Mom was diagnosed with brain cancer. Just 3 days shy of 1 year later, on October 19th, 2009, she went home to see Jesus face to face. There’s a part of me that wouldn’t take her away from Paradise for all the money in the world, but there’s the other (admittedly selfish) part of me that would give everything to have her back, even for a day.
I guess there are just some questions to which I’d love to have the answer. With all the changes wrought in my life, especially over the last few years, what would she say about how my life has turned out thus far? How would she feel? Would she be proud, disappointed? Would her opinion be any different now having experienced Heaven first hand?
I know I’ll never have these answers this side of Heaven. And I’m not dwelling on the answers as if my life and my self-esteem hinges upon them. I know in my mind and my heart that those things should only come from God, but, being human, that slips from my conscious mind more often than I would prefer.
It occurs to me that Mom loved yellow roses, and, a few years before she was diagnosed, she had planted some rose bushes outside the house. After Mom died, winter came, and with snow on the ground, the yellow rose bush bloomed. Unlikely as it was, it seemed to me as if Mom was letting me know that she made it home OK, and that she’d always be around.
Jesus, if you see Mom up there . . . tell her I love her and I miss her.
In October of ‘08, Mom was diagnosed with brain cancer. Just 3 days shy of 1 year later, on October 19th, 2009, she went home to see Jesus face to face. There’s a part of me that wouldn’t take her away from Paradise for all the money in the world, but there’s the other (admittedly selfish) part of me that would give everything to have her back, even for a day.
I guess there are just some questions to which I’d love to have the answer. With all the changes wrought in my life, especially over the last few years, what would she say about how my life has turned out thus far? How would she feel? Would she be proud, disappointed? Would her opinion be any different now having experienced Heaven first hand?
I know I’ll never have these answers this side of Heaven. And I’m not dwelling on the answers as if my life and my self-esteem hinges upon them. I know in my mind and my heart that those things should only come from God, but, being human, that slips from my conscious mind more often than I would prefer.
It occurs to me that Mom loved yellow roses, and, a few years before she was diagnosed, she had planted some rose bushes outside the house. After Mom died, winter came, and with snow on the ground, the yellow rose bush bloomed. Unlikely as it was, it seemed to me as if Mom was letting me know that she made it home OK, and that she’d always be around.
Jesus, if you see Mom up there . . . tell her I love her and I miss her.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Deputized . . .
The flames climbed ever upward. The smoke filled the room as well as my lungs. I may have been on my last gasp when I was pulled from beneath a rafter plummeting toward my head. Suddenly I was wrapped in a tangle of arms and rubber, being dragged into fresh air. I was handed off to the Fire Chief, who wrapped me in a blanket and patted any remaining flames out.
As I was recovering, coughing the last of the smoke and soot from my respiratory system, the Chief came over. “You OK, son?” I nodded, barely able to speak from the trauma and the sheer gratitude for having been rescued. “Good. EMT’s say you’re gonna be just fine. That bein’ the case, I have a favor to ask.” I looked up, a puzzled look on my face. “ See, we’re understaffed, and we need some help. There’re more people in that building, and now that you know the way out, I’d like you to go back in and lead more people to safety before the whole thing collapses.”
My eyes widened. I just got out of there! Why would I want to rush back into the heart of danger? But then I thought about how these guys risk their lives every day for people they don’t know, and they just did the same for me. How could I refuse? So, I donned the extra gear they had on site, and I waded back into the heat.
It didn’t take long before I found another person in mortal danger. I started yelling at him to get up, get out, the way out was right over there! The guy looks up at me, looks back at the book he’s reading, and says, “Yeah, sure, just let me finish this chapter.” Then he goes back to reading! I couldn’t believe it! It was like he was completely oblivious to the destruction and danger raging all around him. No matter how I pushed or pulled, he wouldn’t budge. Exasperated and reluctant, I moved on.
Not much further was another guy, a kid, really. So engrossed in his video game, he seemed not to know what was raging all around him. I yelled at him, No response. I pushed him. Still no response. I stood between him and the TV. He just craned his neck to see around me.
I started to cry. How could these people be so unaware of the flames, the heat, the absolute raging destruction all around them?! It just didn’t make any sense.
Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? People surrounded by death and destruction not wanting to be rescued, to find the way out? Yet it happens all the time, every day. Maybe the danger isn’t as visible as a raging fire, or the destruction as obvious as rafters falling from above, but it’s just as real. People have embraced what was once thought of as sin in the name of tolerance. Because no one wants to rock the boat, porn has gone mainstream, premarital sex is an expectation rather than the exception . . . and the list could go on and on.
As a follower of Christ, I’m called to sound the alarm, to let people know, not so much that they’re descending into the pit, but that they’ve grown oblivious to the danger that surrounds them and to show them the way to safety. As my pastor has said, “Heaven and Hell are real places, and each one of us will spend eternity in one of them.” Most people either don’t know or don’t care. In Ezekiel, God is pretty clear about their fate: “Then if those who hear the alarm refuse to take action, it is their own fault if they die. They heard the alarm but ignored it, so the responsibility is theirs. If they had listened to the warning, they could have saved their lives.” (Ezekiel 33:4-5) Pretty clear, isn’t it?
So where does my responsibility come in? After all, with the internet, television, and such spreading the message, why should I even try. There are so many more efficient ways to hear about Christ. Read on in Ezekiel: “But if the watchman sees the enemy coming and doesn’t sound the alarm to warn the people, he is responsible for their captivity. They will die in their sins, but I will hold the watchman responsible for their deaths.” (Ezekiel 33:6) I am, as a follower of Jesus, one of the appointed watchmen, and it is my duty to sound the alarm and show those who don’t know the way out, the way to freedom, the way to life eternal. “Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19)
The fires are raging, and the world is going, quite literally, to Hell. If I know the way out, but keep it to myself, I have essentially sentenced others to eternal suffering. I can’t live my short blip of a life with that knowledge and not acting on it. I am assured of my salvation, I know that I’ll be in heaven with Jesus someday. And I’m going to show as many people as I can the way there. It’s the least I can do after Jesus rescued me from such a fate.
As I was recovering, coughing the last of the smoke and soot from my respiratory system, the Chief came over. “You OK, son?” I nodded, barely able to speak from the trauma and the sheer gratitude for having been rescued. “Good. EMT’s say you’re gonna be just fine. That bein’ the case, I have a favor to ask.” I looked up, a puzzled look on my face. “ See, we’re understaffed, and we need some help. There’re more people in that building, and now that you know the way out, I’d like you to go back in and lead more people to safety before the whole thing collapses.”
My eyes widened. I just got out of there! Why would I want to rush back into the heart of danger? But then I thought about how these guys risk their lives every day for people they don’t know, and they just did the same for me. How could I refuse? So, I donned the extra gear they had on site, and I waded back into the heat.
It didn’t take long before I found another person in mortal danger. I started yelling at him to get up, get out, the way out was right over there! The guy looks up at me, looks back at the book he’s reading, and says, “Yeah, sure, just let me finish this chapter.” Then he goes back to reading! I couldn’t believe it! It was like he was completely oblivious to the destruction and danger raging all around him. No matter how I pushed or pulled, he wouldn’t budge. Exasperated and reluctant, I moved on.
Not much further was another guy, a kid, really. So engrossed in his video game, he seemed not to know what was raging all around him. I yelled at him, No response. I pushed him. Still no response. I stood between him and the TV. He just craned his neck to see around me.
I started to cry. How could these people be so unaware of the flames, the heat, the absolute raging destruction all around them?! It just didn’t make any sense.
Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? People surrounded by death and destruction not wanting to be rescued, to find the way out? Yet it happens all the time, every day. Maybe the danger isn’t as visible as a raging fire, or the destruction as obvious as rafters falling from above, but it’s just as real. People have embraced what was once thought of as sin in the name of tolerance. Because no one wants to rock the boat, porn has gone mainstream, premarital sex is an expectation rather than the exception . . . and the list could go on and on.
As a follower of Christ, I’m called to sound the alarm, to let people know, not so much that they’re descending into the pit, but that they’ve grown oblivious to the danger that surrounds them and to show them the way to safety. As my pastor has said, “Heaven and Hell are real places, and each one of us will spend eternity in one of them.” Most people either don’t know or don’t care. In Ezekiel, God is pretty clear about their fate: “Then if those who hear the alarm refuse to take action, it is their own fault if they die. They heard the alarm but ignored it, so the responsibility is theirs. If they had listened to the warning, they could have saved their lives.” (Ezekiel 33:4-5) Pretty clear, isn’t it?
So where does my responsibility come in? After all, with the internet, television, and such spreading the message, why should I even try. There are so many more efficient ways to hear about Christ. Read on in Ezekiel: “But if the watchman sees the enemy coming and doesn’t sound the alarm to warn the people, he is responsible for their captivity. They will die in their sins, but I will hold the watchman responsible for their deaths.” (Ezekiel 33:6) I am, as a follower of Jesus, one of the appointed watchmen, and it is my duty to sound the alarm and show those who don’t know the way out, the way to freedom, the way to life eternal. “Therefore, go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19)
The fires are raging, and the world is going, quite literally, to Hell. If I know the way out, but keep it to myself, I have essentially sentenced others to eternal suffering. I can’t live my short blip of a life with that knowledge and not acting on it. I am assured of my salvation, I know that I’ll be in heaven with Jesus someday. And I’m going to show as many people as I can the way there. It’s the least I can do after Jesus rescued me from such a fate.
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