“Dear Sean… This is not a criticism,” the email began, “just a simple question…
“Are you a member of a Bible-believing church community…? Do you tithe…? Do you worship with other believers and hold yourself accountable…? I’ve been a pastor for 28 years, I have helped many… And I’m here if you want to talk. There is only one way to heaven, friend.”
Dear Friend,
Once, there were two men. They were very different guys. They looked different. Had dissimilar backgrounds. They even smelled different.
The first guy was nice. Raised right. Gave money to his church. Read his Bible all the way through every year—always the correct translation. He volunteered to clean the church toilets.
He was a small business owner. No tattoos. Drove an American made car. Never cussed in public.
The second guy was a tomato picker on a commercial farm. He was sweaty and stinky from work. His coworkers were mostly Mexicans and South Americans who all worked for cash under the table.
This was the only job he could find due to his prison record. Nobody wanted to hire a guy who had been busted for drugs. Twice.
Still, he’d been sober for the last four years. Sobriety had been a tough road. His body still suffered the aftereffects of hardcore methamphetamine usage. He had jerky movements. Sometimes it was hard to sleep.
To keep his mind occupied, so he wouldn’t focus on his physical afflictions, sometimes he smoked too many cigarettes. Sometimes he smoked a little weed to ease the tremors.
One Sunday, these two men went to church.
At closing prayer, everyone bowed their heads. If you could have heard the prayers going through people’s minds you would have heard very different sorts of talk.
The first man’s prayer was simple:
“God, I thank you for all you’ve given me, and you have given me SO MUCH to be grateful for. I am so humbled. Thank you for the new car, and for the blessings you continually pour onto me as a child of the Most High God. I go to church twice a week. I tithe. I read a devotional every morning. Sometimes twice in one morning.
“I know that as a child of the King, I am chosen for a holy purpose, called by grace, and you have a wonderful plan for my life. Bless me, as I continually show others how to find the truth.”
The second man’s prayer, however, carried a very different tone.
“Oh, God. I’m such a damn fool. I don’t know what to do right now, dammit. I’m so confused with life. I can’t afford child support and groceries at the same time.
“And I wish I could quit smoking, ‘cause I’m going broke. But I’m so weak willed. And, God, I want to use meth so badly. Help me. Don’t let me go there.
“Also, help this rash on my freaking face and hands, from the new pesticides the farmer is using. My face is on fire. I’m such an idiot sometimes.
“Please help me. Help me not be such a $!#**& loser. Please, God. I beg you. Help me finally learn how to get my life together.”
I ask you, friend, which of the two men went home justified?
As you said earlier, this is not a criticism. Just a simple question.