Are You Saved?
One summer we were in Illinois visiting
cousins. I didn't know them very well, a distant branch of some
tangled family tree. They had two boys, older than me, and a younger
daughter. They asked if I wanted to go to a local lake and go
swimming. Sounded like fun. Why not?
The lake was picture perfect including
a true American image that promised a fun afternoon: a rope dangling
from a tree over the water. We lept like Tarzan from a secure
branch, extended out as far as the rope could go, then released,
flying into the air, our arms flailing wildly as we splashed into
the lake.
It doesn't get much better than that.
It did get much worse.
The second oldest boy, around sixteen or
so, took his turn, leaping off the branch and swinging out over
the water. I watched what promised to be an excellent splash,
but something went wrong.
He didn't let go.
Maybe the angle didn't look right or his
central nervous system forget to send the release signals to his
fingers or he just panicked.
The kid swung right into the tree. A George
of the Jungle moment. Only this wasn't funny.
I remember seeing him smash face first
into the unyielding tree, a sickeningly thud/splat. His head turned
slightly towards me, his eyes fixed in my direction, as he slid
down the tree and into the water.
Those eyes still haunt me thirty some years
later, looking to me for help. I followed his gaze as he immersed
completely under water.
We watched the ripple for a moment, not
knowing whether to laugh or scream, as bubbles rose to the surface.
Five seconds passed. Ten. The bubbles stopped. Something was wrong.
I remember not knowing what to do or how
to do it or really registering what just happened. Shock set in.
Thankfully the older brother responded, throwing himself off the
embankment and diving into the water. He emerged with his brother
in his hands, shouting at him to breathe.
I ran to get help.
When I returned with panicked parents,
we found out he was okay. Bruised and cut, but alive.
He was saved. His brother rescued him. He was going to live.
While we understand what it means to save
someone's life, a task given to policemen, firefighters and doctors,
we aren't quite sure what it means to be saved spiritually.
We hear preachers shout the single syllable
word into a multi-syllable phenomenon: "You must be saa-yaa-vvvv-ed."
We see bumper stickers proclaim it. Missionaries
confront you with it.
"Are you saved?"
It's a good question. It's a big question.
It's a tough question. It's the most important question we could
ever answer.
But what does it mean?
Saved is the past tense of save. To save
has lots of meaning, but for our purposes it means to rescue from
harm or death. In the past tense it means the person was rescued
previously at some time. In light of this tree-smashing accident,
the older brother "saved" his younger brother from drowning
in the lake.
Saved is the root word in salvation, meaning
the process in which one is rescued from death.
In a spiritual sense, one is saved when he is rescued from death
- not a physical death (we all die), but a spiritual one. We are
spiritually rescued from being spiritually separated from eternal
life or from the eternal life-giver Himself…God.
The lake that we are drowning in is called
sin. Sin separates us from God. Our anti-God choices, our acts
of disobedience, cause us to turn away from God. God tells us
to let go, but we say "no, I'm going to hang on!" We
end up drowning, dying, disobedient to the very end.
God, though, offers to save us. Long ago,
He jumped into the human race and offered a helping hand to pull
us to safety. He did so through His son Jesus Christ.
I can't imagine the younger brother, dying
underwater, denying his brother's plea to surface or to breathe,
but on a spiritual sense we do refuse salvation, God's offer to
live eternally with Him in an intimate relationship.
It comes down to what we believe.
Growing up, I believed God existed, but
He didn't really care about me. I remember reading Mark Twain's
book A Mysterious Stranger and coming to the conclusion that my
universe was the only real universe and everyone else was part
of my story. That philosophy lasted for awhile until I realized
I couldn't make girls go out with me. If I truly ran my reality,
the dating scene should be going much better. I definitely couldn't
control the universe of cute cheerleaders.
I wrote a script in college about a guy
who commits suicide in order to confront God and tell him a thing
or two about the way He's running the show. Strange, huh, but
it was what I believed.
During a bachelor party in Los Angeles,
we kidnapped a friend and went to Las Vegas for an all-nighter.
Drunk and tired of the sound of slot machines, we got into this
big, giant, oil guzzling Buick convertible and rode outside the
city to look at the stars. We found an abandoned desert road,
turned off it, cut the engine and looked up. (Sounds like the
opening of a horror movie, doesn't it?).
There in the darkness we took in the beauty
of the galaxy. In Los Angeles, there are so many lights you can't
see the stars. You can see movie stars, but not heavenly stars.
In the Nevada desert, we saw lots of stars. It was incredible.
The Milky Way opened up to us. Planets in the distance. I had
never seen space this way.
At once, questions began confronting my
belief. Where does this all end? What's beyond the boundary of
the universe? Where did it all come from? Who made it all?
Infinity and eternity stared me square
in the eye and asked me the question: what do you believe? Even
in my drunken stupor in the Las Vegas desert with such vastness
spread out before me, I could not deny there was a God. The evidence
was too incredible.
I never forgot that moment. It began a
process of asking questions that led me to where I am today.
I remember, though during those times,
that I couldn't find a resource to adequately answer all those
questions. Friends who were believers handed me tracts, small
booklets with titles like Four Steps to Jesus-Filled Life or Seven
Reasons You're Going to Hell. They felt childish and weird.
I went to conferences and revivals. I even
went to a Billy Graham crusade. Everyone started pushing me to
go forward and accept Christ. I refused. That's right. Not even
Billy Graham could answer all my questions before I accepted salvation.
I'm not the only one who struggled with
spiritual questions and sought out answers. One man, Nicodemus,
had exclusive access to the source Himself.
Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a member
of the Jewish ruling council. He came to Jesus at night and said,
"Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God.
For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if
God were not with him." In reply Jesus declared, "I
tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he
is born again. John 3:1-13
A Pharisee was the ranking religious leader
of Jesus' time. They had their way of doing things. They were
looking for a Messiah as promised by Scripture but they really
didn't want a Messiah showing up and telling them how to run the
show. Nicodemus, however, wrestled with a question. He found Jesus
and asked Him…who are you?
Jesus didn't mind this question, but His reply caused more questions.
Jesus told Nicodemus he needed to be born again. The response
was as confusing to Nicodemus as it is for us.
Jesus emphasized a whole new way of seeing
things. A spiritual fresh start. A rebirth. A new life rescued
from the old.
This book seeks to introduce and explain
some questions you (like Nicodemus, like me) may have about God,
faith, Jesus, the Bible, salvation. It's perfectly natural to
have questions. God isn't threatened. It all depends on whether
you are asking questions to understand or to undermine.
Nicodemus asked questions to get clarity,
so he could believe. His friends, the Pharisees, asked questions
to defame Jesus. They didn't want to believe and asked questions
to embarrass him and trip him up. It didn't work.
Hopefully you approach this book with the heart of Nicodemus.
I have a terrible memory. I can't seem
to remember names, phone numbers, addresses, and that's just my
family!
When I go on missionary trips around the
world, I use a number of scriptures to speak to people, a small
handful of memorized verses from the Bible.
My favorite verse, and I feel the most
important when talking about salvation, is Romans 10:9.
If you confess with your mouth, "Jesus
is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from
the dead, you will be saved. Romans 10:9
The book will focus on that verse. It
is found in the New Testament, in the book of Romans written by
the Apostle Paul to the Christians living in Rome. Paul had his
own salvation experience, while simply walking on a road. He had
to answer the same question we all do - Are you saved?
We will dissect Paul's process of salvation
and use it as a basis for some of the most frequently asked questions
we all have.
Hold on.
Take a breath.
Jump.
And let go…
THINK ABOUT IT:
What do you think when you hear the term "saved"?
© Troy Schmidt, 2009