Wednesday, March 19, 2014

I'm not sure who I am, but I'm glad I'm not you









The state of Colorado used to issue license plates based upon the county you lived in.  The first two letters, followed by four numbers would identify the county where the car was registered, telling others where you lived.  Which could present a problem for some who lived in less desirable counties, or if trying to impress the fairer sex.  Now living in Durango, which is in La Plata county gave me VV or VW plates, which I thought were cool, the VW plates on my Rabbit, almost like custom plates that I still can’t afford, until I would see a clapped out Chevy with the same VW prefix, illusion destroyed.  Through Rex, I met two brothers whose names escape me, who lived in Dove Creek, their family owning a large pinto bean farm, in the pinto bean capital of the world.  They had money, but they didn’t have the right prefix.  And explained one night that they would rive the 70 miles to Durango to get the VW plates, so that when picking up girls they had a better chance.  It seems more than once they got burned when the date saw the plates for Dove Creek, and passed on the brother, and his Corvette, and his family fortune.  All over two lousy letters on a license plate identifying your origin, or living quarters.  And somehow I never thought of Durango as that cool, but I did after that.  I had status, I had the plates!  And a wife!
When I worked for Mercedes Benz in La Jolla, many who brought in their car would try to pass themselves off as living in La Jolla.  La Jolla only has two zip codes, one for PO boxes, 92038, the other 92037 La Jolla’s only resident zip code.  Any so many trying to impress would try to pass off 92109 as La Jolla, which is really Bird Rock, south of La Jolla, and technically San Diego.  Thinking we were stupid, or impressed, never taking into account that we really didn’t care, but we could tell anyway.  Just like we could always tell Land Rover owners from Temecula-faking it while not making it, but pretending they were, until given an estimate that a Land Rover owner was used too, and they didn’t do the repairs.  Down and out in Temecula, or La Jolla wasn’t going to impress anyone.  Same with Beverly Hills, 90210.  The zip code, 92011 being close, but the poorer side of Beverly Hills, and not after the TV show didn’t have quite the panache it once had.  So from Dove Creek to La Jolla to Bird Rock to Beverly Hills, people still put up a façade of who they are, and where they live, never knowing that we know, but just don’t care.
Peter had that problem one night.  His was the opposite.  Being from Galilee he had a specific accent.  Like trying to pass off a Texas accent in New York City.  We can tell, and obviously so could the little girl who confronted him about Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane.  “You sound like a Galilean, you must be with Him,” she insisted.  But he strongly denied being with Jesus, or even knowing Him that night.  And after two other denials, wept bitterly after hearing the rooster that early morning.  What do you do when being accused of being a Christian?  Has it ever happened to you, is there any evidence to prove it other than your bumper sticker and t-shirt?  But yet many live the life of living in one way, yet residing in another.  And when found out, will lie even more.  An “I’m not sure who I am, but I am glad I am not you attitude.”  Such was the case on night when in Bible study and discussing hypocrites.  “What would you do if someone called you a hypocrite?”  And the room went silent, until I protested, the most important question of the night, and you want to pass over it?  And then they attacked, “what would you do?” asking in a condescending tone of voice.  I was on the spot, something they didn’t want to be.  So I answered, “I would admit it, that I am.  But that I have a forgiving God, and hope I didn’t mislead you.  Would you accept my apology, and forgive me, just like Jesus has?  And help me to not be one, I don’t enjoy it when I do, and that isn’t who I am in Christ.”  The silence that followed led me to believe I wasn’t welcomed there, and it was the last study I attended there.  We are all hypocrites from time to time, and we don’t want to be-get over it.  And get on with it.  I was hurt that evening, by them, but more for them, we were chosen to represent Jesus.  But just like Peter, blew it.  But he never looked back, he kept on in Christ, and not more than 90 days later, on the day of Pentecost, led 3000 to the Lord, when in the spirit.  What a difference being in the spirit makes.
So take heart, it may be important to you where you live, but how important is it to where you will spend eternity?  No zip codes in hell, or heaven-saved you miss hell.  And we should all want to go to heaven.  No attraction to hell sounds attractive to me.  And if I screw up, pride taking me over, forgive me, as God does, and as you want to be forgiven.  And do what I do, the next time someone tells you the church is full of hypocrites, agree with them.  But tell them it is not quite full, there is room for one more-them!  And invite them to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Good news, and we all can use a little good news.  Pride may fool the girls at the bar, or the service advisor at the dealership.  You may even fake your accent, but as any Texan will tell you, there is something special about being a Texan.  Now if we could all show how special it is to be a Christian, to know Jesus, when showing His love it just may make a difference.  He came down to your address, and welcomes you to His, will you accept the invitation?  There are zip codes, and then there are zip codes...where do you want your mail forwarded too?  Sorry I can’t understand your accent......Jesus the best address, hypocrites welcome.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com