"Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men..."
II Corinthians 5:11a
I'm a go-with-the-flow kind of gal. I'm shy and reserved, not one to stand out in the crowd; I just want to blend in. I do my best not to step on anyone's toes or to cause a commotion. I'd rather just keep my mouth shut about my beliefs for fear of criticism or ridicule. It's easy to practice tolerance in order to avoid conflict. And from the above statements, two things can be inferred: (1) Either I don't really believe what I say I believe, or (2) I'm so selfish that would rather save myself some embarrassment than share with those around me the eternal consequences of living a life of sin.
So, here's the thing: I really do believe what I say I believe. I believe that God created this universe and everyone in it. I believe that mankind is sinful and falls short of God's perfection and is consequently destined for eternal condemnation, unless intercession is made. But I also believe that God did intercede by offering His Son to take the punishment for our sins. I believe that God graciously offers us atonement, and that all we have to do is repent and acknowledge His Son as Savior and accept His grace - not because we've earned it; not because we deserve it, but because God's benevolence is true regardless of who we are.
That being said, one can only conclude that the latter is true: I'm entirely selfish. I clearly rank my temporal pride above the eternal souls of those around me - my family, my friends, those whom I'm supposed to love. If I really know 'the terror of the Lord,' the power and might of the God that spoke this world into existence and could just as easily remove it, why am I not working to persuade those around me that there are eternal consequences for our sin, and that, praise God, there is also absolution? And though I may be thought ignorant or deluded, the worst one can say is that I was willing to subject myself to the ridicule of others by placing their interests above my own.
Ezekial 33 is a passage that most Christians don't want to hear. I would most definitely recommend reading it, but I'll sum it up for you quickly:
God told Ezekial a hypothetical story of an enemy attacking a land. This land had a watchman standing guard who saw the enemy coming, and he did his best to alert the people of the land. But the people didn't listen, and they were slaughtered. In this case the watchmen was not responsible for their deaths because he tried to warn them, and they chose to disregard his warnings. However, if the watchman had seen the enemy approaching and had chosen not to warn the people, he would be entirely responsible for their demise. Their blood would be on his hands. God proceeds to tell Ezekial that He has commanded for Ezekial to warn the people of Israel of the consequences for their sins, and that if he chooses to ignore this commandment, then their blood will be on his hands.
As a Christian, I've been commanded to share, just as Ezekiel was. (Mark 16:15 is just one example of this commandment.) So, my question is, "Who's blood is on my hands?" How many people have come in and out of my life that I will be called to reckon for? I'm looking at my hands right now, and they're filthy, and I can hardly stand to think about it. But more importantly, how many people do I plan to let go by in the future without being faithful in sharing what God has done in my life and can do in theirs? I'll tell you one thing, I hope it's zero. I pray that it's zero. I want clean hands. I want a clean conscience. I want that way more than I want to be accepted or liked.
Bro. Glenn spoke on this tonight, and while it was nothing new to me, it was something I needed to hear. I needed somebody to step on my toes, and I'm thankful to be in a church where the Word of God is primary, and where conviction trumps contentment (which is really just complacency) any day of the week. Thank God for the faithful messengers at East Memorial Baptist Church. And here's to living a life of shameless proclamation of what God has done in my life. I was lost, but thank God, He found me.
