What is my reason for joining or staying in a church? Why do I want to pass on my spiritual heritage to my children? Why do I invite my friends to church? Or what are my reasons for saying no to church invitations?
Statistically speaking, most Christian church members today are there for reasons of family, social or other association, and very few are there because of personal discovery and conviction. Is this reason—association or momentary interest—sufficient to justify such a major decision as joining or belonging to a particular church or religious ideology? How many of today’s Christians have critically evaluated the inheritance they received from their parents or the invitation they received from friends and evangelists?
Reasons
There are many people around the church who know it well and yet remain distant. What reasons would they give for this choice, either to their conscience or in public? The evangelistic effort is almost always entirely focused on changing the attitude of those who are hesitant or reluctant to join. Every effort is made to change their position. Various arguments are used to persuade them to say yes. If the effort succeeds, they are praised; if it fails, they are blamed for their attitude.
Looking into the mirror of truth as it is in Christ, can we say with a pure heart and full conviction that the only thing that needs to change is people’s attitude towards the Church? Can we say, with the certainty of the Holy Spirit, that the Church has nothing to change and has no part to play in the “no” of someone who goes away with a heavy heart?
If my soul were to accuse me in the court of my conscience before God, what would the defence and the prosecution say about my decision to say either “yes” or “no” to faith in God? Can one stumble in one’s trust in God and in the light of life experience in the great human tragedy? Certainly. Jesus himself says: “Blessed is anyone who does not stumble on account of me” (Matthew 11:6). In other words, humans can stumble in their faith if they want to and if they choose to. But they cannot deny that they have heard the warning of Jesus: “the prince of this world [the devil] is coming” (John 14:30), but in Jesus Himself man finds nothing that has contributed to his tragedy.
God’s intentions and my intentions
There is one particular aspect of the dialogue between humanity and divinity that surpasses all others in importance: God’s purpose for our lives. Einstein once said, “I want to know God’s thoughts; the rest are just details.” Incidentally, the aspect that the devil attacked in the drama of temptation was precisely God’s intention: “Did God really say…?” (Genesis 3:1). In other words, Was this what He meant? Does what He said match His intention? Did He say you will die? You will not die! God hides His purpose, for “God knows…” (Genesis 3:5).
How wrong we can be about God’s intentions! There is no subject in which we are more mistaken than in our understanding of His plans and purposes for us. And often we deceive ourselves about our own intentions.
Unnecessary sadness
One of the most spectacular and meaningful illustrations of this matter is the story of the rich young man (Luke 18:18-30). In this story we need to make several points about the critical area of intention. Because of a mysterious attraction, conscious or unconscious, and because of evidence and arguments that no balanced mind could refute, this young man, who had everything and at the same time nothing, came to Jesus with what is really the basic problem of every living, conscious being: the thought that what is here in this life cannot be everything, because it is too poor, too little, too limited, too meaningless; that there is something beyond this life, and that this something is in fact everything—eternal life. In essence, the young man was saying to Jesus, “I want this idea of eternal life. I have done everything I was told to do in order to have eternal life, but I still feel a great emptiness in my soul. I lack peace and security. Is there any solution? What should I do? I’m ready for anything. Just tell me what to do, anything!”
This dialogue is perhaps the most beautiful and uplifting conversation a mortal can have with the Divine. What more could one ask? The requests to stand on the right and on the left of His throne, to be healed, to have justice done, and the like seem childish compared to this request for the highest form of life, eternal life.
In response to his request, Jesus gave him the answer that only a loving God could give. One step, one thing to do: “Follow me!” “But I am not free”. “It’s all right, set yourself free.” “How? Give all and you will have all.” Sadly, this brilliant dialogue ends unhappily. “When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth” (Matthew 19:22).
Sad? How is it possible for someone to leave the presence of Jesus “sad”? It must have been a terrible misunderstanding. What did he understand and what did he misunderstand in his dialogue with the Saviour of the world? This young man came to Jesus asking for light and guidance to help him achieve the greatest desire a mortal can have: eternal life. Jesus liked his request very much. It is clear from the words, “Jesus looked at him and loved him” (Mark 10:21). In His love, He also saw how close this young man was to the fulfilment of his destiny, and that of every human being for that matter. What did this young man take away from his conversation with the Saviour of the world? Did he understand Jesus’s intentions for him? Did he understand his own intentions?
We generally do not understand things as we are told, but according to who we are. Was it Jesus’s intention to turn this man from someone highly respected and esteemed into a nobody, a homeless man? No, the aim of Jesus was just the opposite—to give him true riches, the riches that never go away. Why then is the gospel preached to sinners to leave them where they are? Jesus did not want to deprive this young man of his reputation; on the contrary, he wanted to give him the reputation that would bring joy to his name in heaven. No, this man would not be homeless, for Jesus said, “I go to prepare a place for you” (John 14:2).
Did the rich young man understand the exaltation and magnitude of the eternal life he was asking for? What did it mean to him in comparison to his life here? Did he understand the nature of eternal life? Did this man know his temporal and eternal purposes and interests?
From the outset it is easy to see from his question (“What must I do?”) that he believed that eternal life could be obtained by doing something. He did not understand that eternal life is “the gift of God.” His flesh did not want to receive God’s gifts, but to buy them. He didn’t want grace, he wanted performance, he wanted transaction and merit. His nature was bothered by the simplicity of God’s ways.
What did this young man believe about Jesus? Nothing more than what can be revealed in his words “good teacher”. It seems obvious that his understanding of Jesus and what he believed about eternal life were the things that underlay the sorrow with which he left the Saviour and played a significant part in his decision. Worst of all, he refused to believe in the sincerity and goodness of Jesus’s response. He doubted His intentions and trusted in his own wisdom. His understanding was influenced not by who Jesus was, but by what he was.
The secrets in our eyes
We are reluctant to accept the truth that the things in the depths of our hearts, those things we quietly long for and love with all our hearts, even if they are hidden, have the final say in our decisions. The truth that is well proven is that God does not answer our stated prayers or our requests, but will respond strictly and exclusively to our true and deepest desires, which may or may not correspond to the prayers or requests expressed. Balaam prays and desires to die “the death of the righteous” (Numbers 23:10), but how far removed was his deep desire for money from his prayer and desire regarding death!
When we look at the tragic picture of the rich young man’s sadness, we wonder: To whom did this young man say “no”? Was it Jesus? Sadly, no, not to Jesus, but to himself. Mahatma Gandhi’s efforts at reform led him to conclude that the only answer to India’s caste catastrophe was Jesus; unfortunately he confused Jesus with the Christian Church. At one point, Gandhi was thrown out of a church by a deacon and sent to the church where those with “skin like his” worship. These are Gandhi’s words: “When they threw me out of that church, it did not occur to them that they were not throwing me out, but that they were throwing the British Empire out of India.” The rich youth did not refuse Jesus, but refused himself the only opening to the ideal of life, eternal life. He set himself limits beyond which he would not go.
The indestructible chain
The story of this young man is really the story of mankind, thousands of years old and yet as fresh as today. I am afraid that human beings, in their quest, do not know their purpose, the ultimate goal of their life and their being, do not fully understand their intentions, and the limits beyond which they cannot go are the limits they have set for themselves.
Have you heard the story of the maker of the indestructible chain who, in the darkness of the dungeon, tried to cut the chain with which he was bound? He fumbled with the chain in the dark and, to his despair, felt the mark of his workshop on one of the links. He gave up trying to free himself because he knew better than anyone that the chains he made were indestructible. This could be an illustration applicable to the experience of our souls, yours and mine, in our dialogue with the Divine. To deny God the right to save us through Jesus is nothing less than the equivalent of the fateful words “no sacrifice for sins is left” (Hebrews 10:26). On a practical level, it means binding ourselves to the unbreakable chain of the conscious and unquestioning rejection of God’s gracious salvation so joyfully offered.
Intention and consequence
It is crucial to understand the relationship between intention and consequence. A choice has in its essence not only intention but also consequence, and these two cannot in any way be separated—either for good or for evil. The rich young man intended to keep his property, and he succeeded, but he was left sad because he had done himself the greatest evil that one can do to oneself—the denial of God’s grace. He succeeded in keeping his wealth intact, but at the same time he destroyed the possibility of realising the original purpose for which he had come to Jesus, which was eternal life.
The Pharisees, as builders of their own destiny, wanted to remain faithful to dogma and tradition. They did not want to consider the consequences of their decisions, which led to the destruction of “God’s purpose for themselves” (Luke 7:30). When David sent for Bathsheba to be brought to him, he thought only of his own intentions and completely ignored the consequences of his decision. Inexplicably, there is no dialogue with the Holy Spirit in his conscience about the consequences. And what consequences they were—he became the murderer of his most loyal general, he destroyed so many lives of men in his loyal army, and his example continues to claim victims to this day and will continue to do so to the end! If he had stopped for a moment to listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit, he would have heard all these things before any of them happened. But, like Samson, he had no ears to hear the consequences, only his immediate intention. “Get her for me. She’s the right one for me!” is the cry of the flesh that stifles the gentle whisper of the Spirit.
The crossroads
You and I stand at the crossroads of life. We have many reasons to say “yes” to Jesus and many reasons to say “no”. The thought that is more nurtured, encouraged and cultivated will prevail and bring its consequences. I can hardly imagine anyone believing in the reality of the consequences and insisting on going on. On the contrary, in the light of the consequences, reason would awaken as from a dead sleep, and the will would be focused in the right direction to counteract the fall or even the death.
The same mechanism also works in a positive sense. The disciples called by Jesus believed in the positive consequences of their decision to respond to His call on account of His promise. Faith in Him and His promise led them to follow Him. If they hadn’t believed in the fulfilment of His promises, it would all have been just a nice and interesting sermon.
Life of faith in general is not very popular in our generation (and I don’t know if it ever has been, unless we confuse a life of faith with religion). The reproaches of our generation against the Church or faith in general seem logical, but not in the light of their consequences, only in the light of their intention. They may be linked to the level of culture of Church representatives or to popular opinion, but they will not be able to influence the consequences of our choices. I am convinced that the rich young man had his reasons when he left Jesus. But his reasoning could not save him from the grief that overcame him, as the grief that overcame Samson and David many centuries before.
To talk about the consequences of our choices and decisions at a time when the enthusiasm for intentions is at its peak seems inappropriate, but as inappropriate as it seems, it is realistic. After the flames of intention have been extinguished, all that remains is inevitably the embers of consequences, whether positive or negative.
Paul was sent by Jesus to the street called “Straight” (Acts 9:11). What were the people there like? How were they viewed in society? How would his association with them affect his reputation? “Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before Him. It is because of Him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: ‘Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord'” (1 Corinthians 1:26-31). He thought eternal life was one thing, but in the end it turned out to be something else!
