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It was a hot, dusty Judean day. The old man walked slowly down the path with his son close to his side. As they walked, he described the scenery they passed and issued an occasional warning about a stone in the road, or some obstruction coming up. Most of the shady spots along the way had already been taken by the lame, the crippled and the destitute. Finally, they came to one of the few remaining shady spots along the road. He helped his son to the ground, made him as comfortable as possible and gave him the small box that would hopefully be filled with stray coins by the end of the day.
Then, with a parting hug and kiss to the cheek he left his son and returned home. At the end of the day he would return, help his son home and do the whole thing over again. Each day was a reminder of the dreams the son’s blindness had stolen. He’d never seen the sun, or the flowers, or the hands that had cared for him since birth. His entire world was wrapped up in the sounds, smells and descriptions others would give him.
As the blind man sat along the road, he sensed a crowd coming. He couldn’t tell how many, or who it was, but it must be someone important to travel in such a large group. His spirits lifted. If it was a large crowd it could mean the possibility of many coins landing in his coffer. If only he’d been earlier so that he could have gotten one of the spots further out of town. The first beggars in line often received the best alms.
The conversation grew louder. His spirits began to rise. It sounded like someone in the midst must be a Rabbi, or noble of some sort, for he was fielding questions from his followers.
Someone ran past him hollering something….did he say healed? Then, he sensed the teacher before him. He heard the question that had haunted him his entire life.
“Who sinned, Master? Was it this man, or his parents?
It was a question that he hated to hear. Why did people naturally assume that any sort of adversity in someone’s life was the result of sin? He knew it wasn’t his sin that caused the blindness. He was born this way. He knew his parents. They were Godly, faithful parents who followed the law to the best of their ability.
The teacher gave an answer he didn’t fully understand. It wasn’t the answer he’d heard countless times.
“It was neither,” was the reply, “This was done so God could be glorified.”
What a confusing answer. Yet the sound of the man’s voice and the words he spoke brought a strange sense of peace and comfort to the blind man. While he was still pondering what the words might mean he smelled the scent of wet dirt. Something wet suddenly covered his eyes.
Instinctively he began to raise his hands to wipe whatever is was away, but the person talking told him to stop and go wash in a certain pool. A group of men led him away. Soon the cool waters of the pool of Siloam covered his face.
As he wiped the water away he made a startling, wonderful discovery. HE COULD SEE!! For the first time in his life he saw the blue sky, the flowers, and the people around him. What a marvelous miracle.
But, little did he know, his story had really just begun!
(From ‘When Grace Isn’t Enough: Living in Grace Despite my Past)
A woman contemplates suicide. She’s a hooker, a mom, and addict. She has stooped so low as to sell not only her body, but the body of her three year old daughter to support her habit. At the end of her options, with no where to turn, she seeks out a counselor. He suggests church and she is shocked. “Why,” She asks angrily, “Would I go to church. I already feel bad enough about me. Why would I want to go someplace where I’d only be made to feel worse about myself?
A soldier sinks low in his foxhole. Bullets and rockets fly overhead. He’s been gone from home for two years fighting this war. He opens a bent and crumpled envelope. It’s from his home church. Anticipation rises within him. Expectantly he opens the letter, only to find that he has been dropped from the membership because he has fallen behind in his annual giving. When he returns home he never again darkens the door of a church.
They ‘did all the right things’ as parents. They had family devotions. They were involved in their local church. They took an active part in the social, educational and spiritual lives of their four wonderful children. They were good, Godly, caring parents. Then, within a span of two years, three of their children are taken in tragic, separate accidents. Three young lives taken before they really had a chance to bloom. Mom and Dad were never the same. The lone, remaining child struggled with drugs as he dealt with the tragic turn of his life. Throughout this tragic turn of events in this devastated family, the church remained strangely quiet.
What has happened in 2000 years that has made those who used to cling to the feet of Jesus, run from him in anger and shame? When did the church place the importance of money before the giving of one’s life for his country? How did we lose the compassion of the church in Acts to overlook the pain of our brothers and sisters?
The United States of America has more freedom, and opportunities to show the love of Christ than any country in the world. Yet churches close every week because there are no longer enough people attending to fill the pews. We are a nation of ‘empty pew people’. People who for a variety of reasons have turned their backs on the one person that can give them the fulfillment they seek.
In the book of Galatians, the Apostle Paul writes to a group of people that have fallen into the trap of legalistic thinking. They had become more intent on rules and regulations, and less concerned about living relationally. In Chapter 5, verse one he earnestly pleads with them to remember that we were born to be free.
The body of Christ needs to return to being a living organism of faith and mercy and love. Each of us has the responsibility to show the Grace of our Lord Jesus to those who might make us uneasy, or take us out of our comfort zone. Our Heavenly Father can’t do His work when we confine Him within the walls of ‘church-ianity.’
(From “When Grace Isn’t Enough: Amazingly Graceless”)
Mike Fisk & Built with Grace 