I once read some theology on the bumper of a car in front of me. It said, “If you go to hell, don’t blame Jesus!” The slogan apparently was an attempt by the driver to do some evangelism. I gave him credit for trying, but I wondered if those who saw that warning felt it was put there in love.
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My father-in-law Pete is a genius. No, he didn’t develop any scientific theories like Einstein did. His genius is that of a handyman. Just ask him about an ailing furnace or a clogged garbage disposal. He can intuitively diagnose the problem and come up with a solution. When my in-laws visit, it looks like a home repair TV show. I often take notes. In many ways, as I watch Pete, I am equipped to do the repairs on my own.
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I’ve seen a number of recent reports about efforts to remove monuments with the Ten Commandments from public places in the US. It’s regrettable, for the monuments celebrate righteousness, and “righteousness exalts a nation” (Proverbs 14:34). I believe that removing these reminders is a reflection of our crumbling moral foundations.
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The young boy looked up at his grandfather and wondered aloud, “Grandpa, how do you live for Jesus?” The respected grandfather stooped down and quietly told the boy, “Just watch.”
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When a professional musician nicknamed “Happy” became a Christian, he quit playing in nightclubs and offered his services to a rescue mission. Some time later, he received a phone call from a club manager who wanted to hire him to do a show that would have brought in a lot of money. But Happy turned down the offer, telling the manager that he would be playing at the mission. Happy said, “He congratulated me. That surprised me. Here was a man who wanted me to play for him and he was congratulating me for refusing his offer.” The manager respected Happy’s decision.
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What’s the best argument we can give those who ask why we have accepted Jesus as our Savior? How can we most persuasively bear witness to our faith?
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“You don’t want to interview me for your television program,” the man told me. “You need someone who is young and photogenic, and I’m neither.” I replied that we indeed wanted him because he had known C. S. Lewis, the noted author and the subject of our documentary. “Sir,” I said, “when it comes to telling the story of a person’s life, there is no substitute for an eyewitness.”
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A psychologist made the observation that children often develop lifelong complexes because of their names. That may have been true in the case of a boy I read about. His parents gave him the name Tonsilitis Jones, and it caused him difficulties in school and again when he tried to enlist in the navy.
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As a young boy, I enjoyed singing hymns in church like “Throw Out the Lifeline” and “Let the Lower Lights Be Burning,” which used images of shipwreck and danger at sea to illustrate our spiritual responsibility to others. But living in landlocked Oklahoma I had never seen the ocean, and my nautical experience was limited to sailing matchbox boats on mud puddles. I knew the words but had little concept of how to rescue a “fainting, struggling seaman.”
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Pastor Craig was having an intense conversation at a health club with Jacob, a man he had befriended. It started after Jacob climbed onto the exercise bike beside him. Craig asked, “Are you going to see the movie The Passion of the Christ?” “No!” came the quick response. As the two men pedaled side-by-side, they had a half-hour discussion about the purpose of Jesus’ death. When they parted, Jacob said, “I still don’t think I’ll see the movie.”
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