Nov
11
2015
Earning and Believing
Posted in Salvation 2 Comments
When I had my first child there were many questions that needed to be answered.
Life questions.
Faith questions.
The questions went deep; the answers that I grew up simply accepting did not go as deep.
God was tugging at my heart.
God was taking my foundations and shifting them.
My foundations were laid on the shifting sand of tradition.
My foundations were not on the bedrock that is Christ.
It was after my fourth child was born that all of the questioning came to a head.
I needed to leave the church I was raised in so that I could grow closer to God and His word.
The decision was not made lightly.
The decision caused much pain and division.
I counted the cost.
Once the Holy Spirit got a hold of my heart there was no turning back.
Once I began to seriously read God’s Word I was captivated by His love and mercy.
I went forward risking relationships and upsetting the status quo.
It has not been an easy journey.
It has been worth it.
More than worth it.
The Lover of my soul, my Bridegroom, drew me to Himself.
Someone I loved very much could not understand why I did what I did.
Conversation after conversation that was spoken in love only deepened the chasm.
It was religion versus relationship that was not understood.
It was that relationship with my Lord Jesus that could not be comprehended.
No matter how I explained salvation and all that had happened to me, it fell on deaf ears.
No matter how much I tried to show my faith in action, it was not understood.
I did the unthinkable.
I left the church I was raised in, which in that person’s mind was the unpardonable sin.
That is what was unfathomable.
That is what I was asked to explain.
That is what I prayed about in earnest.
One night it became clear; I knew how to explain what was going on in my heart.
The person who wanted the explanation was a World War II veteran.
This person understood battle.
This person was someone I loved and admired.
This person was very confused about what had happened to me.
Being a writer, I realized that putting my words down on paper was the best way to proceed.
I knew what to write about after my husband took me to the movies.
He had wanted to see Saving Private Ryan when it opened in the theaters.
I went with him, never expecting to find my answer there.
I came home and wrote the following letter on August 9, 1998:
When we had our afternoon together a few weeks ago, you shared your thoughts with me. You explained about being a logical man and told me that if something is not logical then it is not true. Following this, you said faith alone is not logical, therefore not true.
I asked you if it was logical that I would leave the church I was raised in, stop going to church with my husband, and generally uproot a whole family? You said no and that was what you couldn’t understand. We left our hearts at that place. I said that I would try to explain what was so illogical to you. I have prayed and contemplated how to express myself to you but dismissed many ideas since they fell short of conveying what has occurred in my life. Until last night.
Michael and I went to see Saving Private Ryan. Never before have I been so moved by a film, probably due to the fact that it was actual history. For three hours, I felt as if I was in that war. I cried, sometimes wept, being touched to my very core by the sheer chaos of war.
The premise of the movie is that a mother lost three of her four sons as they were killed in action. She vowed that she would not lose her last son. The orders were given to find Private James Francis Ryan somewhere near Omaha Beach. Tom Hanks, as Captain John Miller, gathers eight men together and they search for this needle among needles. Lives are lost along the way and the general consensus is, I hope this Ryan is worth it. Circumstances bring them together and they find Private Ryan. Ryan does not want to leave what is left of his company since they were defending one of two remaining bridges. I thought often about the statement, I hope this Ryan is worth it and the resounding, yes, flooded my ears. God created my inmost being…I am fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalm 139:13-14) For that reason alone we, like Private Ryan, are worth it.
The battle for the bridge ensued and Captain Miller was killed. His last words to Private Ryan were, earn this. The movie takes us to Normandy where we see an old Private Ryan, with his family behind him, kneeling before the cross on Captain Miller’s grave. Ryan asks, Did I earn the right for you to die for me? Turning to his wife he asked, Was I a good man? Was I a good husband and father? She said, yes, but the issue seemed unresolved.
The last words of Captain Miller gnawed at me. Soldiers go to battle willingly. They know full well that they may die for their country. Captain Miller’s statement that Private Ryan earn the right to live by his death was something I needed to ponder.
I thought of another man who fought a different battle willingly. He knew full well that He was going to die for His people. Jesus Christ made no demand on us to earn the right to live by His death. Jesus Christ simply asks that we believe.
Earn this.
Believe this.
The dichotomy that seems so illogical. Earn this creates many “un-resolvables” as in Private Ryan’s own need of affirmation that never fully satisfied. Believe this is a leap of childlike faith that says, I died for you willingly. End of story.
Had I written the screenplay, Private Ryan would have been so grateful for Captain Miller’s sacrificial love that he would have lived his life overflowing with thankfulness. Why should such grace and mercy be bestowed on him? He was just a Private. Was he worth it?
But the end was written in another story. The disciples asked Jesus, What must we do to do the works God requires? Jesus answered, The work of God is this: to believe in the one He has sent. (John 6:28,29)
Earn this with all its “un-resolvables”. Believe this with all its surety and promises.
Worldly kingdoms with their false bravado pale in comparison to God’s Kingdom. Philip Yancey in his book, The Jesus I Never Knew says, The balance of power shifted more than slightly that day on Calvary because of who it was that absorbed the evil…God Himself has chosen the way of weakness. The cross redefines God as One who was willing to relinquish power for the sake of love. Power, no matter how well intentioned, tends to cause suffering. Love, being vulnerable, absorbs it. In a point of convergence on a hill called Calvary, God renounced the one for the sake of the other.
I am so thankful that He did. When Michael and I talked about the movie, I said I was struck by the fact that life is not the passing of months and years but rather the passing of moments. To me, moments must be lived to honor Jesus Christ. When we miss moments, we miss everything. Our life can be changed in a moment, as it was for the soldiers on Omaha Beach, and as it can be for each of us.
What about the death of one man? Caiaphas, the high priest at the time of Jesus’ crucifixion said, You do not realize that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish. (John 11:49)
It is better for me that one man died in my place and asks not that I earn that right, but I just believe that it happened and that He rose again three days later. He now sits at the right hand of His Father waiting to bring me home. No un-resolvables. Just a promise He died for.
Post Script: The letter was sent and received back in 1998.
The recipient wrote back and thanked me for the movie review.
On this Veteran’s Day, think of the One who went to battle for you.
He climbed the Hill of Calvary, died, was buried, and rose victorious three days later.
You cannot earn your salvation by anything you do; Jesus has done it all.
Our Lord asks only that you believe in Him, the One who was sent.
That was a beautiful, heartfelt, inspirational letter. Thank you for sharing it.
You are welcome, Marlene.
Our eternal life depends on whether we believe in Christ alone for our salvation. Jesus has done it all. Our only work is to believe in the One that was sent.
Gina