There was once two men who wished to visit a holy place that was a thousand miles away.
One was rich and one was poor.
The rich man owned a very expensive car that was very fast and could map the route and even drive itself while he slept.
The poor man owned an old bicycle. He did not know exactly where the holy place was, just a general direction. So he headed that way and he knew that he would eventually find it some how.
Every day the rich man would think about going to the holy place. Some days he would sit in his car and push the buttons to see what they do. Some days he would go on the internet and watch videos of people driving the car and marvel at what the car was capable of doing. He had a website about his car and would talk about how powerful the car was, and how advanced the features were compared to other cars, and how much more beautiful the styling was than other cars, and how well crafted and reliable it was than other manufacturers’ cars. He enjoyed quoting specifications from the Owner’s Manual that proved his car was superior to other commenters’ cars. Every night he thanked God for the gift of his wonderful car.
Every day the poor man would wake up before dawn, pray, then get on his bicycle and pedal until the sun was setting. Some days there were hills. Some days he was tired. Some days there was bad weather. Some days he rode more miles than other days. But he always rode. And at the end of every day he thanked God for granting him the miles he traveled.
For many days, the rich man would lie in bed and dream of visiting the holy place. He would tell people about his very expensive, beautiful, perfectly engineered car and his intentions to visit the holy place in it.
After many days and many turns taken on and off the path, the poor man arrived at the holy place. He marveled at the beauty of it which was more beautiful than his most fantastical dreams. He was welcomed in, given a hearty meal, and then he rested.
The rich man had never left his garage.
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In my Protestant days and now in my Orthodox days one of the most discussed issues is: What will God do with those who are not “of us”? The assumption is, of course, if we are “it” then unless you conform to what defines “it” means you cannot be “it”.
Of course this all is tightly wrapped up in how one interprets Jesus’ saying, “Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, and the truth, and the life: no one cometh unto the Father, but by Me.” (John 14:6)
My Protestant church taught that this meant unless you conciously KNOW Jesus, have a relationship with Him, and acknowledge Him as Lord you cannot come to the Father.
An Orthodox version is similar, but involves the Church. Unless you are in a relationship with Jesus through the Church (sacramentally) then you cannot “come to the Father”.
Both interpretations leave the answer to “What about the salvation of sincere, but wrong people?” at best a theological shrug and an attempt to make “we don’t know, God knows” sound piously humble and non-judgmental to the people we actually, by the logic of our theology, consider lost.
But this has always struck me as starting with a wrong concept. This assumes Christ is speaking of Himself in a “utilitarian” mode: I am the tool that you have to use to get to the Father. If you don’t own the correct tool and know how to use it you can’t get the job done.
If we follow the rest of the story though, the disciples ask Jesus to show them the Father. You can do this thing. Utilitarian. You’re the tool that can get this job done. But Jesus says, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.” Jesus is not the “tool” but The Goal itself. Everyone who comes to Me and “sees Me” sees the Father. The Father is revealed in Christ, it is only Christ, no one else, who IS the image of the Father, no one sees the Father except in the person of Christ.
So then “no one comes to the Father except by Me” is not a threat, but a fact. What remains to be figured out now is “what does it mean to know Christ, and how does one do that?”
Ironically, it was St. John who told us this thing who also told Jesus earlier in his relationship with Christ, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in Your name, and we forbade him because he does not follow with us.” To which Jesus answered, “Do not stop him, for the one who is not against you is for you.” (Luke 9:49-50) So the idea of an exclusive club with brand name, proprietary tools, secret handshakes and rituals, code-talk communication, etc. is not what “knowing Jesus” is all about.
How DO we know Jesus? The Parable of the Sheep and the Goats (a previous blog post on judgment) in Matthew 25 is the long commentary on Luke 9:50: You can know Jesus and not know you know Him. And Christ who you “know without knowing” is revealing the Father to you, just as He does to ALL who have seen Him in the least, the lost, and the lowly among us.
The Parable of the Car and the Bicycle is basically this: Christ is The Goal of our pilgrimage. He is our innate holy place within us because the image of God within us is never obliterated by sin. He is not the perfect car that gets us to “a place”. He draws all of us TO HIMSELF, not a plan, a tool, a program, because He and the Father are One, and the Father sent the Son to reveal Himself. (John 12:32) Owning the right tool (or driving the best car) is no guarantee of getting to the Holy Place, but no effort even with the “wrong tools” and on a bike ridden with intent is lost in eternity by the mercy and grace of God.
So, are the sincere but wrong people with the old bicycles pedaling toward a fantasy holy place without a map, in the general direction of Christ saved?
It seems to me, the Gospel says unequivocally, “Yes”: All come to the Father through Christ no matter how we know Him (or not).
What’s the difference between a Christian and them? A Christian just knows the name of “That Guy” before The Name Above All Names is revealed to them in eternity.
Well said, Brother.
I always enjoy your pithless thoughts. Thank you.