The Bulletin
of the
Church of Christ at
New Georgia
Tim Johnson, editor
June 8, 2003
In
This Issue:
Fifteen
Miles from Heaven
By
Earl Kimbrough
Remove
Before Flight
--
author unknown
Fifteen Miles from Heaven
Moses E. Lard, well known gospel preacher of the nineteenth century, kept a preach-ing appointment at Richmond, Missouri in 1853. As he was hitching his horse near the meeting house, a black man named Dick, a brother in Christ, approached him and introduced himself. Dick had once been a member of the church, but the congregation in his small community had ceased to meet. His faith remained strong. He said, "I have come fifteen miles to hear you preach, and I have brought with me my young master Thomas. I think he would be a Christian if he knew how."
After being introduced to Thomas, Lard went into the house to begin his services. The audience was large, but not a Christian there had come fifteen miles, a considerable distance in that day. But here was a bondservant with his master in the audience.
Lard preached for an hour and one half, keeping Thomas in his mind for the full sermon. When the invitation was extended Thomas went forward and made the good confession. He was baptized that same evening.
Poor Dick was as near heaven then as he will ever be again till he reaches that blessed abode. He could not sit; he could not stand. He did not shout, but clapped his hands while tears ran over those toil worn cheeks.
A little more than two weeks later, at the request of Dick and Thomas, Lard went to the com-munity near their home to preach for two days in the shade of some large trees. A modest stand and some crude seats had been erected to accommodate the services. Resolved to make the most of the limited time, Lard preached for two and one half hours. The sermon made a favorable impression on most of those present. The next day the audience, undiminished in size, gathered again to hear an-other equally long sermon. At the close, four men came forward to confess Christ. Lard decided to stay on a few days, and before the meeting closed forty people had been baptized for the remission of sins.
On the Lord's Day, the brethren met at a convenient place a mile dis-tant to organize a New Testament church. They invoked the protection of God and resolved to be faithful in His service. The Lord's Supper was ob-served. The church known as South Point was located in Ray County, Missouri. It came into existence primarily because a chattel slave, who was also a bondservant of Christ, loved both masters enough to travel fifteen miles to hear the gospel.
--Focus Magazine
Kevin Haw tells of a time during a business trip to Boeing's Everett, Washington, factory where he noticed several 747 and 777 airliners being assembled. Before the engines were installed, huge weights were hung from the wings to keep the planes balanced. The solid-steel weights were bright yellow and marked "14,000 lbs." What was particularly interesting was some stenciling he discovered on the side of each weight. Imprinted on each one was the warning, "Remove before flight."
The writer of Hebrews tells us to "lay aside every weight which so easily ensnares us, and run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith" (12:1,2).
I think the lesson is simple. You cannot soar with sin. Until one determines to abandon the weights of self-will and self-satisfaction, and is cleansed by the blood of Jesus, he will remained grounded. While the Lord promises to renew the strength of those who wait upon Him so that they will soar on eagle's wings, run and not grow weary, walk and not faint, they will never attain those spiritual heights until the weights of sin have been cut free (Isaiah 40:31).
However, we are not so quick to acknowledge that fact. We like to hang on to sin and try to fly with the extra weight. Now of course, we know we can't soar with the big weights like adultery or murder, but we figure that we can still take flight with a little extra poundage of lying, gossip, malice, envy, hatred, greed, selfish ambition, etc. We fail to realize that eventually the weight adds up.
Then we struggle to understand why God isn't using us like we thought He would. We wonder why we are not leading people to Christ, and why worship seems so stale. So we begin to make excuses for our low altitude (or attitude). "People are not as responsive to the gospel as they used to be. Things are busier now. Worship leaders are not inspiring." But the excuses will not change the flight pattern.
Yes, we long to glide among the clouds of the highest height, but not without the weights. Or do we really long to - glide that is. Are we afraid of what the Lord will do with us? Afraid of where His will might take us, whom we might meet, what we might have to endure. Suddenly, the weights seem comfortable. We are glad they are there, lest we soar too high.
This happened to a young man, who came to Jesus with his wealth and authority strapped to his wings, and asked what he might do to fly into the heights of eternity. The Pilot's answer stunned him, "Drop the remaining weight." The young man walked away grieved, because he owned a lot of weight. Do you remember what Jesus told the apostles as they all watched this poor fellow walk away, wondering that if the rich can't get into heaven, then who can? God can even make camels fly, He said (Matthew 19:16-24).
The winds of grace are powerful, but we become insecure about how high they can take us. The weights keep us low to the ground, so that if we have to bail out we don't have far to fall. If the pressure of the world becomes too great for us, we want to be able to make a quick emergency landing. So we hang on to a little bit, just in case being a Christian becomes too hard, or demands too much. The eagle flies with trust in the wind that God provides, and so must we. We must abandon our reservations and trust His grace even when decisions are hard, convictions are tested, or earthly security is jeopardized.
In our trust deprived state we fail to discern between the real burdens. John writes, "His commands are not burdensome" (1 John 5:3). Whatever afflictions we must endure by keeping them are light, says Paul, compared to the eternal weight of glory (2 Cor. 4:17). The yoke of Christ - easy. The burden - light (Matthew 11:30). The real burden, the real weight that keeps us so far from heaven is sin. About those 14,000 lb. weights your carrying around - Trust God and remove before flight.
Via Corinth church of Christ Bulletin