As it is written, Behold, I lay in Zion a stumbling stone and rock of offense: and whosoever believes on him shall not be ashamed. (Romans 9:33)
A Tragic Missed Opportunity
Years ago our county Republican Committee was meeting to elect a chairman. I went to pick up a proxy from a guy who could not make the meeting. At the time, the issues of the meeting seemed important. When I arrived at his house, he was visibly excited. He and his wife were Mormons, and they had been unable to go on their “mission” trip between high school and college. He was now retiring and going to go “on mission.” His enthusiasm was bubbling through as he gave me the proxy. My mind went to 2 John 1:9-11, “Whosoever … abides not in the doctrine of Christ, hath not God … If there come any unto you, and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him Godspeed For he that bids him Godspeed is partaker of his evil deeds.” I nearly said, “I would like to wish you Godspeed on your mission, but I can not. You are preaching a false Christ, a fictional brother of Lucifer, not the divine second person of the Trinity.” I thought, “That will just offend him, and I’ll end up in a long discussion about his theology.” I was careful not to encourage him, but took his proxy and departed. That night he died in a house fire. His wife escaped, but he was trapped in the bathroom. His body was found in the bathtub where he had taken refuge. Had I spoken with him, it likely would have been his last chance to hear the gospel before entering eternity. Perhaps he could have reflected on our conversation while he sheltered in the tub wondering why Providence was not blessing his mission. I realize that my disobedience in standing for the truth will not diminish the number of the elect, but I still wish I had that conversation starting with 2 John 1:9-11.
An Opportunity to Offend
Some five years later, I would have a different opportunity. My Aunt passed away, and I was her trustee. My father had previously been her trustee but passed it on to me as he aged. Dad and two of his brothers had left the Catholic Church after college, but the majority of the family was Catholic and my Aunt’s trust specified that she have a funeral mass. Just as I heard of her passing, I wrote a letter to the cousins and siblings referencing Paul’s analogy (1 Cor 15:44) of the buried body being like a seed, and the resurrection body being like a plant. I stated that she only had hope of this resurrection because of the gospel, being justified by faith in Christ. I included a package of flower seeds and said, “Plant the seeds, and as they come up, think of the resurrection body she has a hope of because of Christ’s finished work on the cross.
When Dad and I traveled out to be with the rest of the family, it became apparent that they were not eager to plan the funeral mass. Dad and I met with the priest, and to my surprise, Dad said, “I want my son to speak at my sister’s funeral.”
The priest said, “What would he say?”
Dad replied, “This,” as he removed my letter from his pocket. The priest said that I could not say that during the mass, but he would have me come up right after the mass concluded.
At that moment, I decided my gospel presentation was not clear enough. I told the priest, “If I speak, I will be contradicting some of the cannons of the Council of Trent.” The priest just gave a little chuckle.
The morning of the mass around 2:00 AM I woke up and knew what I would say. I sat at the motel desk and wrote it out, concerned that I might otherwise forget. This is what I wrote:
“One day, a coworker shared a thought with me, remarking, ‘It’s intriguing how God supposedly weighs our sins on one side of a scale and our good deeds on the other, determining our eternal fate based on the balance.’ He even cited a verse to support this belief: Daniel 5:27 – You have been weighed in the balance and found wanting. Let’s imagine, for a moment, that such a balance was before us. On one side, we’d observe a substantial weight of sin, including our own transgressions and the sinful nature inherited from Adam. Romans 5:12 provides further clarity on this matter.
Now, you might argue, ‘What about my good deeds?’ Perhaps you do chores around the house, donate money to United Way at the office, or volunteer with the local fire department. All these acts appear as feathers on the good side of the balance.
However, there is a grim reality. Isaiah 64:6 states, Our righteousness is like filthy rags. If we’re truly honest with ourselves, we must conclude that these good deeds often stem from ulterior motives.
Do you assist at home solely to gain favor from your family? Did you give to United Way from a desire to advance in office politics? Do you enjoy the status volunteering for the fire company gives you in the community? Honesty compels us to admit that these good deeds are selfish, and these feathers belong on the sin side of the balance. This constitutes the bad news—we possess an abundance of sinful “good deeds” in addition to our actual sins of covetousness, etc. on one side, and we have nothing on the good side. We’re powerless to tip the scale in our favor.
This predicament applies to all individuals in their natural state. In our natural state, we are doomed to hell. So, what’s the good news? What occurs when someone turns to Christ? What did Christ accomplish? He was not just passively righteous (suffering and dying for our sins) but He was actively righteous. He was perfectly obedient.
When an individual embraces Christ, God imparts the entirety of Christ’s righteousness to the side of good on our balance. This righteousness surpasses the weight of our sin.
But there’s more. When you turn to Christ, a remarkable transformation occurs: you’ll find the sin side of the balance utterly empty. All your sins, including the good deeds done for evil motives, have been transferred to Christ, covered by His blood and His finished work on the cross.
The infinite Christ suffered for a finite time to spare finite man from suffering eternity in hell. As proof of His victory, He triumphantly rose from the grave on the third day. This constitutes the good news. When you come to Christ, and God gazes upon you, He sees the righteousness of His beloved Son, in whom He delights.
In 2 Corinthians 5:21, Paul encapsulated this truth, “He (God) made Him (Christ) who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him (Christ) we might become the righteousness of God.”
The morning of the funeral mass I read what I wrote to Dad. He said, “It’s the most anti-Catholic thing you could say, it’s perfect.”
The night before the funeral, my cousins had mumbled the rosary countless times before the coffin. The morning of the funeral the priest sprinkled the coffin as it entered the sanctuary, saying, “She was infused with Christ’s righteousness at baptism.” Finally, the priest pronounced, “Hoc est corpus meum” over the elements, thus allegedly transforming them into Christ’s literal body and blood; allegedly exposing our savior to additional suffering. I thought, “It’d be nice if one of these statues fell over.” Just after that thought crossed my mind the stem of the wine glass broke. About a third of the wine spilled on the liturgy book and tablecloth. The priest recovered as best he could. I thanked God and was encouraged.
When he concluded the mass, he invited me into his pulpit. I had a packet of zinnia seeds in my hand. On the way to the pulpit, I plucked a zinnia from a bouquet. I used Paul’s analogy from 1 Corinthians 15 and made it clear that the only reason to hope for such a glorious resurrection was because of the imputed righteousness of Christ. I used the scale analogy to explain the imputation of our sin to Christ and His righteousness to us.
After the mass, one of my cousins said, “You should have seen the priest sitting behind you. He was making the meanest faces when you were speaking.” What a blessing it was to share the gospel as accurately as I could with my Catholic relatives, and the many in the community that came to her funeral. Every member of the Trinity is involved in salvation: The Father draws, the Spirit quickens, and the Son has done the atonement. God allows us to be the means, as long as we’re obedient and have the courage to offend.
