Having just celebrated my 38th spiritual birthday, I reflect on the goodness of God that first drew me to
Himself and has more than sustained me since conversion.
Very often Christians speak
of “when I found Christ.” The intent is good, the theology is not. Christ finds
us! I certainly was not looking for Him, or for salvation, or even for hope in
1973. I had just been arrested and was awaiting extradition. Drugs were found
in our cell, the Texas
authorities removed everything except the religious material. After a few days
of boredom I picked up a paperback book simply because it had the word “Prison”
in the title.
As a 26-year old
college-educated, alcoholic, drug selling Vietnam Vet I was introduced to the
love of God as demonstrated in the sacrifice of His Son Jesus Christ. No human
being was directly involved; I simply read the book (which led me to the Book)
I had no idea there even
was a Holy Spirit, but He was doing His work of conviction and drawing. I knew
nothing of a trinity, nothing of the “infallibility of Scripture,” zero about
predestination, and “secondary separation” would have sounded like a terrible
body wound. (Which, on reflection, it is if one capitalizes the “b” in Body).
All I know is that on January
30, 1974 , I confessed my sins, and turned to God. Though I did not
break out in a cold sweat, nor had any outward manifestation, nor tears, I
simply knew that Jesus was real, that I was His, and that He was truth.
Subsequently, I was
sentenced to prison, did my time, got out and went to Bible school. On this
journey, I became painfully familiar with the fact many Christians seem to
exist for one purpose…to argue with other Christians.
In the three decades plus of
striving to walk with Christ, I’ve not seen any improvement in the infighting.
I am known to be opinionated and vocal. Too often I spill my thoughts before I
think them through1 but as I reflect, I am sure there are only a few things for
which I’ll go to the proverbial wall.
The necessity of repentance
and faith in the completed work of Jesus for salvation is etched in stone (Acts
26:17-18; 26:20). The reality of heaven and hell are based on the clear words
of Christ (Matt. 25:46). The return of
Christ is not only a glorious hope, but part and parcel to the gospel.
Well, what about 24 hour
days of creation? Are you pre-post-a millennial? What about tongues? Can you
lose it? What about Christian rock? Which version is trustworthy?
Folks, when the Vietcong
were trying to kill me, I didn’t care a bit about the muzzle velocity of my M16
or 50 caliber, nor did I care about the relative merits of each. I just kept my
head down and shot at the enemy. I sure didn’t shoot at another GI who
preferred to use a captured AK! I just wanted to stay alive and negatively
impact the enemy. Maybe that’s an apropos parallel to spiritual warfare?
What spawned this thought
process? I am blessed to have a perpetual calendar of Max Lucado’s writings,
and the one of my favorites is from this book, Six Hours One Friday. I have
placed it on my desk and on my bathroom mirror to be a vital reminder:
Seek the simple faith. Major
on the majors. Focus on the critical. Long for God.
Though too wordy for a
Lucadoism, I add, “Although you may not always see eye to eye, walk hand in
hand with others saved by grace.”
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