An acquaintance of mine toyed with the idea of visiting a beach in the Caribbean, perhaps during Spring Break. He relished the idea that he could relax, have a few drinks, do so dancing and bar hopping, and take in the sights – not so much the sight of the blue waters or the landscape, but the sights of the undressed college coeds. He indicated that it would be fun to watch the uninhibited MTV-type bar games and challenges for a few days. He would take pictures and bring them back to show his friends and family.
I asked him why. Why would you want to do something like that? His answer was, it’s nice and warm down there. I said, It’s warm in Hell, too, but I don’t want to go there.
Another friend overheard our conversation and put in her thoughts. She said, Yeah, but I just want to dip in my toes.
I relate this story because both of these individuals claim to have good relationships with God. Yet the image they project is one of hypocrisy. The people around them believe they are Christians – that it’s acceptable to worship God on Sunday morning and indulge in lusty behaviors the rest of the week.
I guess that’s where my pet peeve comes in. You see, I can’t stand it when these people undermine the efforts of the church. I tell my students at school that when they misbehave, they make me look bad. I make sure they know that I take it personally when they go messin’ with my reputation. That’s exactly what these Sunday morning Christians do to us every time they engage in these worldly activities.
It’s not just the drinking and carousing that I’m talking about. I’ve heard, first-hand, as people forsake the assembly because, they claim, that the people in that church are hypocrites. The people in the world may be blind to many things, but they hold us under a microscope. They study us to see if we practice what we preach, and when we don’t, they label us – deservingly so – as hypocrites.
One week, a Christian visited a farmer and invited him to come to worship. The farmer answered the Christian, saying, I don’t want to go to that church. I know brother and sister so-and-so, and they’re no better than I am. With all that I’ve seen them do and heard them say, I’m just as saved as they are. The Christian, toppled by the farmer’s response, excused himself from the farm, but returned a couple of weeks later.
On the return visit, the Christian asked the farmer if he had any pigs for sale. The farmer told him a litter of little pigs had just been weaned and that he could have his pick of the litter. The Christian looked over the litter carefully and finally settled on the runt, the smallest, puniest, sickliest piglet of the bunch. Holding the pathetic animal in his arms, he told the farmer he would be sure to tell everyone he met that he had gotten the pig from the farmer. The farmer pleaded with the Christian to take a different piglet. Please take one of the others, he begged. I don’t want everyone to think that the only pigs I have are in such terrible shape. That pig doesn’t represent the level of quality my farm has. The Christian moved in closer. He leaned toward the farmer’s ear, and he whispered, If it’s good enough for the church, it should be good enough for your farm.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, the 1800’s writer and philosopher, said, What you are speaks so loud that I can not hear what you say.
I asked him why. Why would you want to do something like that? His answer was, it’s nice and warm down there. I said, It’s warm in Hell, too, but I don’t want to go there.
Another friend overheard our conversation and put in her thoughts. She said, Yeah, but I just want to dip in my toes.
I relate this story because both of these individuals claim to have good relationships with God. Yet the image they project is one of hypocrisy. The people around them believe they are Christians – that it’s acceptable to worship God on Sunday morning and indulge in lusty behaviors the rest of the week.
I guess that’s where my pet peeve comes in. You see, I can’t stand it when these people undermine the efforts of the church. I tell my students at school that when they misbehave, they make me look bad. I make sure they know that I take it personally when they go messin’ with my reputation. That’s exactly what these Sunday morning Christians do to us every time they engage in these worldly activities.
It’s not just the drinking and carousing that I’m talking about. I’ve heard, first-hand, as people forsake the assembly because, they claim, that the people in that church are hypocrites. The people in the world may be blind to many things, but they hold us under a microscope. They study us to see if we practice what we preach, and when we don’t, they label us – deservingly so – as hypocrites.
One week, a Christian visited a farmer and invited him to come to worship. The farmer answered the Christian, saying, I don’t want to go to that church. I know brother and sister so-and-so, and they’re no better than I am. With all that I’ve seen them do and heard them say, I’m just as saved as they are. The Christian, toppled by the farmer’s response, excused himself from the farm, but returned a couple of weeks later.
On the return visit, the Christian asked the farmer if he had any pigs for sale. The farmer told him a litter of little pigs had just been weaned and that he could have his pick of the litter. The Christian looked over the litter carefully and finally settled on the runt, the smallest, puniest, sickliest piglet of the bunch. Holding the pathetic animal in his arms, he told the farmer he would be sure to tell everyone he met that he had gotten the pig from the farmer. The farmer pleaded with the Christian to take a different piglet. Please take one of the others, he begged. I don’t want everyone to think that the only pigs I have are in such terrible shape. That pig doesn’t represent the level of quality my farm has. The Christian moved in closer. He leaned toward the farmer’s ear, and he whispered, If it’s good enough for the church, it should be good enough for your farm.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, the 1800’s writer and philosopher, said, What you are speaks so loud that I can not hear what you say.
