On the Anvil - Max Lucado [3]
How do you place yourself in Christ’s rest?
3: Now, Don’t Get Carried Away!
Peter followed at a distance.
Luke 22:54
Peter was sharp.
He kept his distance from Jesus.
“I’ll stay close enough to see him,” Peter reasoned.
“But not too close, or I may get caught.”
Good thinking, Peter.
Don’t get too involved—it might hurt.
Don’t be too loyal—you might get branded.
Don’t show too much concern—they’ll crucify you, too.
We need more men like you, Peter.
Men who keep religion in its place.
Men who don’t stir the water.
Men who reek with mediocrity.
That’s the kind of man God needs, yessir.
One who knows how to keep his distance:
“Now, I’ll pay my dues and I’ll come once a week,
but . . . well . . . you can get carried away, you know.”
Yes, you can get carried away . . .
up a hill
to a cross
—and killed.
Peter learned a lesson that day—a hard lesson.
It is better to have never followed Jesus than to have followed him and denied him.
Mark these words:
Follow at a distance and you’ll deny the Master. Period.
You won’t die for a man you can’t touch. Period.
But stay near to him, in his shadow. . . .
You’ll die with him, gladly.
Have you been “carried away” by Jesus?
What keeps you at a distance? What do you need to give to God?
4: Sour Grapes
I once knew a man who treated Bible class and the worship service like a harsh movie critic treats a new release.
“Entertain me!”
Arms folded.
Lips tight.
Expectant.
“This had better be good.”
With a ruthless eye and a critical ear
he sat
and watched
and listened.
The teacher, the minister, the music director—all were his prey. And woe be unto the teacher who didn’t ask his opinion, unto the minister who went a few minutes over, unto the music director who chose songs the critic didn’t know.
I once knew a man who came every Sunday to be entertained and not to encourage. He remarked that the Sunday afternoon game was more exciting than the Sunday morning assembly.
I wasn’t surprised.
Sound familiar? What negative impact does this type of person have?
Have you ever felt like that man? What influences helped you shift your attitude?
5: Billie Resigns
One evening in 1954, Billie Sicard resigned from life. No official announcement was made, and no papers were signed. But still, she resigned. For all practical purposes, Billie decided to live no longer. Her spirit died in 1954; her body died in 1979.
On that evening in 1954, Billie’s only reason to live left her. Her twelve-year-old son, George, died of a brain tumor. Little George’s death left Billie prisoned inside a vacuum. She had been thirty-four when she had borne him. After her husband left, little George became her life. When he died, his death became hers.
She was well-to-do. Billie had lived on the exclusive Sunset Island in Miami since 1937. After her death the house went at an auctioned price of $226,000, a hefty sum for the time. Yet all this was immaterial to Billie. Her life had been her child.
They say that after George died in a New York City hospital, the body was brought to her home for a wake. After displaying the body for a day in the home of Mrs. Sicard, the funeral director came to remove it. She refused to let him. For several days she mourned behind locked doors before she gave the body up.
It was nothing for Billie to go on a shopping spree and spend a hundred dollars on toys for George. In 1979 when her body was found, so were the toys, exactly as her son had left them. Nothing was packed, nothing moved. For twenty-five years Billie had roamed in a house full of toys, with a heart full of memories. When the house was sold after her death, little George’s Cub Scout uniform was still hanging in the downstairs coat closet. On the wall was a child’s sketch of a choo-choo train drawn in red crayon. She had never washed it off. His Mickey Mouse slippers sat in the corner of his bedroom. In the garage sat a 1941 Packard, a gift she had given to little George on his tenth birthday.
When Billie resigned from life, she became