It was Sunday evening. Our church was laying hands on Lois, and people were encouraged. Lois, you see, had recently given her life to Jesus Christ, a decision which transformed a mature looking medical student into a radiant, eager, childlike disciple. She still wanted to become a doctor, but now she would do so with the love of Christ.
As others were praying, my brief moment in paradise was invaded by a horrible series of questions which burst open the floodgates of a cynical mind. “How long?” I asked myself, “Will this innocence last? How long will it be before somebody comes along and tells Lois that her simple dedication to Jesus isn’t enough; she must also speak in tongues. Or, (depending on who’s talking to her) she must avoid people who speak in tongues. And how long will it be before she’s taught the importance of predestination, or the evils of rock music, or the necessity of believing in a pre-tribulation rapture, or the danger of submitting to women in leadership, or the need to have faith that God will make her a millionaire?”
All at once, I realized that I felt sorry for Lois. I actually felt sorry she had become a Christian. I pitied her for the confusing and burdensome trials which lay ahead, and it seemed ironic that these trials would come, not from the world, but from the church. This was insane; feeling sympathy for a converted soul. Wasn’t I supposed to be glad? Wasn’t I supposed to be rejoicing? (to put it in Christian lingo) The poor kid. She just wanted to follow God; she just wanted to be forgiven of her sin. Little did she know there were so many other issues of earth shattering importance.
I guess all of us are used to the fact that Christians do not see eye to eye on every matter. Maybe we’ve gotten too used to it. Don’t misunderstand me; friendly disagreements are harmless. Unfortunately, we seem to be just as accustomed to unfriendly discussion, divisions and barriers built upon arrogance or over-reaction. The problem is not a new one. Paul dealt with the quarrelsome Corinthians by writing, “For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified (1 Cor 2:2).
Paul believed there was one message worth arguing for, even dying for, the gospel. Other matters seemed to fall into a different category. It’s not that they were unimportant; it’s just that they were not the basis of fellowship. We don’t meet together to celebrate Calvinism and Pre-Millennialism. We meet to celebrate our oneness under the blood of Christ.
I’ll never forget the time when my little cousin, David asked me if I’d like to join him for a rubber band shoot-out, directed at my brother, Paul. Being a Junior-Higher at the time, it goes without saying that I jumped at the chance. What I didn’t realize, was that David and Paul had already secretly negotiated to ambush me with rubber bands.
Two minutes into the war, Paul and I stopped. “Wait a minute…Where’s David?” David was seated on the living room chair, kicked back and cool, with a devilish grin. I say “devilish grin” because I’m convinced the real devil has this same look of satisfaction when Christians move to opposite sides of a mountain built from a molehill. The world is going to Hell and we’ve diverted our energy into the creation of problems which really never existed. All the while, some evil being kicks back and smiles!
Oh yes, years later, Lois visited me. Some charismatic Christians had convinced her that anyone truly walking in the Spirit would never enter the medical profession. Paradise lost.
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