Though We Never Would Steal or Murder

Many people seem to think it possible to sin without actually being a sinner. The person who bluntly states, "I've never done anything wrong" is the exception--and even most of those will break down under cross-examination. But ask the average citizen on the street, "Are you a good person?" and odds are the answer will be "yes"--meaning, "I've never murdered anyone, stolen anything valuable, or disappointed anyone without good cause." Reserving the right to define "valuable" and "good cause" for oneself, of course. Many a self-proclaimed good person has used the company account for personal leisure, or tossed aside "till death do us part" marriage vows, or kept an accidental extra $5 given as change, without feeling a hint of guilt.

People like to think of themselves, and perhaps the larger part of humanity, as deserving only good things. More than one in four Americans disbelieve in hell, and many of the others consider it a place reserved for the most blatantly evil--definitely not for honest, hardworking, good-to-their-families types who haven't done anything worse than to consider God beneath their attention. Which is akin to saying God isn't really important, and the good-versus-bad sum of human deeds is all that ultimately counts.

Before we as Christians get smug about knowing better, let's ask ourselves: how many times have our actions professed exactly the same thing? Every time we snub a "worse" sinner than ourselves, or object to any but "respectable" people entering our churches, or get nasty at a call for reform without even giving it a hearing--we are in effect saying, "We are too good to admit we are still fallible or to associate with people who obviously are." If we consider it Christian to "keep ourselves from being polluted by contact with the world," we might remember that the Christ Who supposedly set the ideal example was derisively called a "friend of sinners" because He didn't object to hanging out with the "disrespectable" crowd--and that it was the respectable and religious people who most wanted to get rid of Him permanently.

We may be justfiably angry to see atheist books proclaiming "Religion Poisons Everything" from bestseller lists. But are we handing ammunition to the enemy by allowing pride and self-righteousness to poison our religion?

Though we never would steal or murder,
Nor be tempted to outright crime,
Yet we fail to see hardening of our hearts
Coming subtly in course of time.

It is not sins obscene and blatant,
Where forgiveness is quickly sought,
That so often leads on a gradual slope
Far away from the Path Christ taught:

It is pride in our sense of "goodness,"
And the love of a life of ease,
That will make our love for the Lord grow cold
Till we do only as we please.

Though Christ died for the open sinners,
Those who showed the most obvious taints,
It was not such kind who called for His blood
So much as the self-righteous "saints"!

Roll Call

Today the U. S. celebrates Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Some of you reading this probably remember King's time well. Perhaps some of you were even active in the civil rights movement--or were among those who squirmed in disgust when the idea that "all schools, restaurants, public transports, etc., belong to all Americans" became official.

The need to feel "too good to associate with" certain others seems inherent in human nature. Those of us who don't look down on others' skin color usually find some other "inferiority" criterion: income level; education; family background--or even others' being "less respectable" Christians than ourselves. That last is no more than a Christianized Pharisaism "confident of its own righteousness and looking down on everybody else" (cf. Luke 18:9-14), including fellow Christians who associate with "disrespectable" types. Those of us tempted to indulge such attitudes should remember who drew Jesus's fiercest criticism in the days of His earthly ministry.

"When the roll is called up yonder," no doubt most of us will be surprised at some of those who make it into the Kingdom. But we can prepare ourselves here on earth by resisting the temptation to write anyone else off.

Especially in a group.

The teacher is calling the class to order:
"Dianne; Miguel; Katara; James"--
Each one in his place, each one in her corner;
The teacher has records of all of their names.

And none of them chooses the others' places,
And none can have another banned;
The teacher has names for each of their faces,
The teacher tells each where to sit or to stand.

They may be strangers each one to the others;
They may have faces of different shades;
They all came from different fathers and mothers:
The teacher keeps records of each of their grades.

And some will be smart and some be slow learners,
Some get straight As, some barely pass;
But whatever brews in their mental burners,
They all remain members of one single class.

And some are poor and some are wealthy;
And some are happy, some hardly at all;
And some are frail and some extremely healthy;
But all are equal when the roll is called.

The Teacher is calling us all to follow:
"Salome; Ruth; Paul; Philip; James"--
Each one from his work, each one from her hollow;
The Teacher makes records of each of their names.

And none of them chooses another's calling,
And none can say who else may come;
The Teacher sends gifts on each of them falling;
The Teacher records what each student has done.

They may be strangers each one to the others;
They may have come from a thousand lands:
They all are God's children, whomever their mothers:
The Teacher alone says where everyone stands.

And some followed Him since they were mere toddlers,
Some welcomed Him in the prime of youth,
And some were snatched from the fire as codgers,
But all remain children of He Who is Truth.

And some were poor and some were wealthy;
Some found life happy, some hardly at all;
And some were sickly, some extremely healthy;
But all are equal when the roll is called.