Imagine this conversation.

The person said to me, “I think our Church is big enough. Honestly, it is starting to get too big for me already.”

My response was, “You are correct. Some of the people in this community should go to hell.”

Them, “What?”

“I mean, not everyone in this area needs to hear the Gospel of Jesus. Some of them don’t deserve grace. They should spend eternity in hell. I totally agree with you.”

Them, “I didn’t say that. “

“Well, if our Church quits reaching new people for Jesus, we are essentially saying, ‘No one else deserves to have a relationship with Jesus around here.'”

Them, “That is not at all what I meant. I meant it is hard to know everyone here now. Sometimes, it isn’t easy to connect with others because there are so many people. And we need to have Christian relationships.”

“Oh, my mistake. You don’t want everyone to go to hell. You want your needs met, and if that means other people go to hell, you really don’t care.”  

They said, “You are twisting my words.”

“I sure am. But I am also revealing what you mean when you say it. You just have not thought it through.”

Thankfully, this conversation never happened exactly like this. I am not that blunt. Sadly, I hear these comments all the time. All I want you to do is think through what you are saying.

Two of my boys were home, and they both wanted to have a campfire. I got the fire going, and everyone went out to grab a seat and enjoy the late afternoon.

I have four chairs that stay outside permanently. Two of them match and are made of hard plastic. They have acquired stains from being left outside for so long, and while ugly, they still work well. Another one is plastic with a metal frame. It was once an office chair and now looks out of place, but it is perfect for an evening by the fire. The last one is an old lawn chair whose material is well worn, and part of the arm wrap is missing from years of people picking at it.

My family sat in those chairs and had a wonderful afternoon of visiting, poking at the hot coals and trying to avoid the smoke. It was a great day.

While sitting there, I thought of a metaphor for the Church. Christians can be like my chairs: worn by the years, mismatched, and suffered from years of dealing with people. Somehow, God takes those chairs and uses them to make a wonderful experience.

God is not looking for perfection; he is seeking availability.

“Daily Devotions. Bible Reading. In my quiet time this morning.”

“Accountability partner. Discipleship. Spiritual growth.”

“Trying to give it to God. Praying about it. Seeking the Lord’s will.”

If you have been around Church for a very long time, you know the right language to use, which will lead others to believe you are a committed Christian. Drop a few well-timed words and phrases into a conversation, and people will automatically assume you have a vibrant faith.

It is easy to fool other people about your level of spiritual maturity. The trouble comes when you start believing your own lies. Suddenly, the right language became a real problem.