John 3:16 is the gospel in a sentence, twenty-five words that bridge the gulf between a loving God and lost humanity. Yet in this wonderful array of Bible words, preachers often stress the little word “so.” “For God so-o-o loved the world,” they intone. And still the question lingers: How could such a God love such a world as this? It was no mere sentiment that moved His heart. The giver-God gave until He could give no more. He so loved the world.
That massive so inspired a mighty go. At the highest level, the question, “Who will go for us?” was answered by Isaiah’s Lord. The One who told us to “Go into all the world” knew what He was asking. He made a journey much, much farther that any of us have been called to take.
Which reminds me of a story. I was telling veteran goer Ed Harlow (at that time in his 90s) about an old man who, at 85, had professed Christ as Saviour. Getting up off his knees, he said with passion, “I want to go to the Muslims in the Middle East with the gospel!”
Ed listened for the conclusion of the story, but I had already finished. “Well, did he?” he asked. Warm sentiment is fine, high intentions are noble, but did he go?
Since we all are to take the gospel, where is it we are to go? Ah, the little word “to.” “To,” said the Man with a heart big enough for all, “to every creature.” The little preposition, worked hard in daily life—“to work,” “to the store”—was never used more nobly. Go, said the Saviour, to towns and cities, to your neighbor and to the uttermost part of the earth, to highways and byways. Go until there is no palace, no prison, no house, no hut, no adult, no child, to which you have not gone. And this “to” is linked with the “lo.” If we go “to every creature” the Lord has promised, “Lo, I am with you”—and then adds another exhaustive “to”—“to the end of the age.”
And “Ho”? Found in one of the great OT gospel appeals (Isa. 55:1), we read, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters….” From a root pronounced something like “ahahh a-haw,” it is intended to express pain or passion. The word is also translated O!, oh!, ah!, ha!, alas!, and woe! Whatever the case, it is a reminder that the message we proclaim is something that ought to move us deeply. Like John, we should be both burning and shining lights. If the good news touches no more than our intellects, how shall we expect it to reach sinners’ hearts?
Do. “If you know these things,” said the Master, “happy are you if you do them.” Seminars, books, conferences are fine, but now it is time to actually do something. “Lord,” we need to cry out with every intention of immediately responding, “what wilt THOU have ME to DO?”
And what about “no”? Ah, there’s the rub. We define ourselves by what we say “no” to. We cannot, should not, do everything. In a self-indulgent society, we need to light again the altar’s fire and fuel it with all those legitimate (or illigitimate) things that clog our ability to do what we know He wants us to do. “No man can serve two masters…Therefore I say unto you, Take no thought for your life, what ye shall eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your body, what ye shall put on. Is not the life more than food, and the body than raiment?” (Mt. 6:24-25). Whatever that means practically, I’m a long way from it, and need a big pile of “nos” to those other masters to even get me close. How about you? Would today be a good day to restart the fire?