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HEAVEN'S LITTLE HELPERS #4
FIGHTING THE SERBS WITH A SLINGSHOT
Our throats kind of tightened a few weeks ago when
the journalist wife of one of our Adventist Media Center video technicians
headed over to Kosovo to do news reports for CNN affiliate stations. Willa
Sandmeyer and another Adventist TV producer, Rob Pohle, as we record here
on May 4, are right there where the warfare has been taking place.
And when you think of a friend being over there, it's numbing to realize
what else is there. F-117 fighters. B-2 stealth bombers. Cruise missiles,
F-15s, F-16s, Harriers, F/A-18s, MiG-29s (those are Russian), AWACS. SAMs
— surface-to-air missiles. Diesel submarines. Apache helicopters. And
now, even cyberattacks, as one side goes after the other with brand new
Internet warfare. The Serbs have a propaganda web site at "www.kosovo.net."
Plus the old-fashioned guns and bullets, snipers, Molotov cocktails, ground
forces, "low and slow" NATO counterattack efforts, artillery,
and all the rest. A year ago, U.S. intelligence forces estimated that
there were 3½ million hand grenades, 200,000 assault rifles, 30,000
pistols, 25,000 machine guns, and 1.5 billion rounds of ammunition which
had been stolen from arsenals and are now floating around in the war theater.
With that in mind — and I don't mean it cynically — I'm sure my friend
Willa would take very little comfort if she had a can of Mace in her purse,
or a kitchen knife in her backpack. Could she make a difference in the
war effort, or even hope to defend herself, with such a tiny arsenal?
There's a Bible story that segues into our thought for this Thursday time
of discussion. We've been thinking about God's Little Helpers, and how
our efforts are, at best, a can of Mace going up against all of NATO and
the KLA, with their vast armada of pinpoint missile attacks. Maybe you
remember in the New Testament, the Garden of Gethsemane on a Thursday
evening, where eleven of Jesus' disciples think they're all ready to do
battle with the Slobodan Milosevices of their day. "Look!" they
say proudly to Jesus. "We've got two swords! Bring on the enemy!"
And later that evening, our hero, Peter, who is always eager to be God's
helper in times of trouble, pulls out his sword and goes into battle.
What's his total score for the war? One ear. Not even one enemy soldier
killed or even taken prisoner. His total score: one ear. In fact, Stars
and Stripes magazine doesn't even print up his name for that because five
seconds later, Jesus reaches over and simply heals that ear back up with
just one touch. Peter's trying to "help" his Master, and Christ
doesn't even want it.
Here's the irony. Peter cuts off one ear; that's the
sum total of his military prowess. But if you read this story as told
by the disciple John, in chapter 18, this rough mob of Roman soldiers
and priests and temple guards comes after Jesus in the midnight hour.
They've got their torches, lanterns, "and weapons," it says
in verse three. So they have some swords too, and maybe some flamethrowers
and AK-47s. They're ready. Verse four, and Jesus says to them: "Who
is it you want?"
"Jesus of Nazareth."
"‘I am He,' Jesus said. . . . When Jesus said, ‘I am He,' they drew
back and fell to the ground."
Just like that, the whole mob falls over, as if an
invisible force, a sonic boom, struck them down. Does Jesus fire an automatic
weapon? No. Do heaven's planes strafe the countryside and drop napalm?
No. He simply looks at them, and the entire rebel army falls over. And
our little friend Peter actually thinks that he has an important military
role to fulfill with his one ear-chopping swipe! God's Little Helper indeed!
Here's the point for today. Friend, you and I have within us a human desire
to contribute something to the war. We want to help! We want to pick up
spiritual guns and fire them. And there is a sense where that is appropriate,
where God does call us to march to the tune: "Onward, Christian Soldiers."
But when it comes to our salvation, to what qualifies us for the kingdom
of heaven, then all we have is a can of Mace, a sword, and maybe the chance
to cut off one ear. And the record is clear that God doesn't even want
us to cut off that one ear.
In his breakthrough book, What's So Amazing About Grace?, Philip Yancey
confesses how hard it was for him to understand that salvation was all
God's doing, and not his.
"I grew up with the image of a mathematical
God," he writes, "who weighed my good and bad deeds on a set
of scales and always found me wanting." Friend, have you encountered
those scales too? Let's read on. "Somehow I missed the God of the
Gospels, a God of mercy and generosity who keeps finding ways to shatter
the relentless laws of UNgrace. God tears up the mathematical tables and
introduces the new math of grace, the most surprising, twisting, unexpected-ending
word in the English language."
Maybe you joined us some months ago when we did a seven-week
radio journey through some of Jesus' best parables. And in all of them,
the mathematics of God were absolutely upside-down. And it became clear,
over and over, that in terms of salvation, you and I bring absolutely
NOTHING to the equation! Nothing! Isaiah 64:6:
"All our righteous acts are like filthy
rags."
Ephesians 2:8, 9:
"For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this
not from yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no
one can boast."
Our friend Peter loved to boast about all he would
do for God's cause. "I'll never deny You, Jesus," he crowed.
When it was all over, after the rooster crowed, what did he have to show
for his Thursday evening of hand-to-hand combat? One ear, and three denials.
That's what he brought to heaven's scales . . . which, thank heaven, don't
work that way.
In his classic book, Mere Christianity, the normally sedate and buttoned-down
scholar, C. S. Lewis, actually shows a bit of fire in his choice of words.
"If there was any idea that God had set
us a sort of exam, and that we might get good marks by deserving them,"
he writes, "that has to be wiped out. If there was any idea of a
sort of bargain — any idea that we could perform our side of the contract
and thus put God in our debt so that it was up to Him, in mere justice,
to perform His side — that has to be wiped out. I think every one who
has some vague belief in God, until he becomes a Christian, has the idea
of an exam, or of a bargain in his mind. The first result of real Christianity
is to blow that idea to bits."
And you know, this stuff is all around us. It's here
at this ministry. "I went on the air 260 times for you last year,
Lord!" "Lord, I traveled to seven camp meetings and preached
to large crowds." "Lord, did You notice that we mailed out Discover
Bible School lessons to 13,000 people last year? And I was the one who
licked most of the stamps!" Now friend, please understand. It brings
me personal joy to be on the radio. Preaching about Jesus is a marvelous,
rewarding, spiritual adventure. Licking stamps for Jesus is a terrific
form of Christian service. But do any of these things count as points
toward my own salvation? No! And the idea that they do must be blown to
bits. The idea that my obedience is the basis of my home in heaven must
be exploded into pieces. The core conviction that my own goodness is what
matters must be riddled with bullets, shot to bits, blown up, and buried.
I guess that's one huge reason we have the Bible. Because it's filled
with story after story of men and women just like us, who struggled with
this same concept: "I must help God." A man named Uzzah wanted
to help God by holding onto the ark. Judas — yes, the betrayer of Jesus
— actually had in his warped, selfish mind an idea that if Jesus, who
steadfastly refused to take the throne of Israel and make Himself king,
were forced into a physical confrontation, where He was arrested and tried,
well, then, surely He would work a miracle and ascend to power in a great
coup d'état! So by betraying Christ, he, Judas, was actually helping
Him. Helping this barefooted, misguided, shy God who didn't seem to know
how to help Himself.
Even in the seven parables I just mentioned, where this truth about grace
comes pounding home over and over, the people in the stories can't help
but try to contribute their own little military moment. Even when the
prodigal son comes home with the stink of pigs on his tattered clothes,
and not a penny to his name, he still has his tiny contribution to offer.
"Dad, I'll just be a servant," he begs. "I'll sleep in
the shed out back, and I'll work, and I'll earn enough for at least some
good food and a fresh pair of Hanes." He had his little can of Mace,
didn't he, ready to do his little part in the great war.
I mentioned once an anecdote from Dr. Tony Evans, who has written some
beautiful Christian books. He imagines the moment he faces God on Judgment
Day. Does he mention those books he wrote? The sermons he's preached?
The good deeds he's accomplished? No, he very humbly confesses that all
his goodness is nothing. But he can point to the fact that when he was
a young boy in church, he gave his life to Jesus Christ one night. And
then this marvelous line: "And Jesus, You are all I have!" Friend,
let's thank the Lord that we have Jesus. And that Jesus is all we need.
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