I was witnessed to last week, the first time I can remember. Sherry was a kindly looking lady sitting by the airplane window, probably in her mid-sixties.
She made a frontal attack. Point blank, she told me she was a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. That was the last time she mentioned Jesus Christ until I brought Him back into the conversation.
She recounted her own “conversion.” A confused college student, with a Catholic father and a Protestant mother, she declared she had found answers in the Mormon church. It made sense, she said, that if they had prophets in the Bible days, we ought to have prophets in our day, too!
She told of her delight with the family orientation (although she was divorced); about the social closeness–church-sponsored dances and all. Then came the clincher: “Even if it isn’t true,” she said with a smile, “it’s been a great life.”
I tried to point out to her that this is only the anteroom to life, a little blip on the screen of eternity. It mattered very much whether her belief system was right or wrong. What she believed now would determine her destiny forever.
Had I studied the Book of Mormon, she queried. She would be more than happy to arrange to have one sent to me.
Well, yes, I had studied the Book of Mormon, I replied. In college, as she had. But my conclusion had been very different. I had found the Book and its message fatally flawed.
If she winced inside, she didn’t show it. But she did want to know why I thought that.
“Surely you believe God is perfect?”
“Yes,” she said.
“And you believe that your good works are necessary for your salvation?”
“Yes-s-s,” she answered more cautiously.
“Are your works perfect?”
“No, of course not.”
“Don’t you see that this was the reason for the death of the Lord Jesus at Calvary! He would not have died if we could save ourselves.”
“But His death makes up the difference for our imperfect works,” she countered.
“The Lord Jesus was crucified two millennia ago, and when He died He shouted, ‘It is finished!’ To add to His finished work is an affront to God of the worst kind.”
“Well, my belief satisfies me,” she finished, turning to look out at the growing cloud banks.
Then it happened. The big 747 slewed sideways. Then it dropped into a hole. And fish-tailed. And jumped. The seatbelt light buzzed. Beverage service was suspended. And my neighbor was gripped with terror.
We continued to twist, jerk, and drop at irregular intervals. My companion, unreasoning fear etched on her face, leaned over and asked hoarsely: “I don’t mean to be forward, but can I hold your arm?”
She clung for most of an hour. The pilot tried every altitude available, but it was no use. Eventually we broke out into smooth, clear air. My friend dared to relax, leaning back in her seat with a sigh like she had just had a tooth crowned.
I couldn’t help but make the observation.
“I think the Lord gave us an opportunity just now to experiment with our beliefs. You see the difference? Your religion, like most, is DO, and it can’t give you peace. When life goes smoothly, we look pretty much the same, but when the big bumps come, your peace disappears. If this plane were to go down, I would go up! For me it would be ‘far better,’ as the Bible says. I have that peace because I know that it’s all DONE regarding my eternal destiny.”
As Sherry sat silently, I explained the way of salvation simply to her. She thanked me as we gathered our bags to leave. I pray she will find peace in the Lord’s finished work.
Here is the beauty of the Christian hope. Nothing is ever out of our God’s control. Nothing is ever lost, even our failures. Peter learned that, when the Lord took his misery and turned it into a ministry! “When (not if) thou art restored,” said the Lord, “strengthen thy brethren.”
If the Lord took the worst thing that ever happened–the Cross–and turned it into the best thing that ever happened, there is nothing in your life that He can’t restore if you’ll let Him.