So...Are You Saved?

Two things I would never want to do:

1. C0nvince someone who is lost that they are saved.

2. Convince someone who is saved that they are lost.

Two things Satan always tries to do:

1. Convince someone who is lost that they are saved.

2. Convince someone who is saved that they are lost.

I suppose this is personal for me since I was saved at the tender age of seven. I didn't have what one might call "a lot of sin" in my life. I think I simply discovered one night that I really wanted to give my life to Jesus. (Not a bad idea.) I've often speculated, since I basically believe you've go to be lost to be saved, that I must've been lost only to be saved. I mean, though I can't quite say it right, that I was,  perhaps, saved the moment I found I needed to be.

Well, as I've discovered through the decades, turning your life over to Christ, even so early, is no end to struggles. In many ways, it's just the beginning. Among the many, one of the worst of my struggles was that I heard the more than occasional whisper in my ear that I was too young and ignorant, didn't know what I was doing, was only trying to please mom & dad and was merely going through the motions when I accepted Christ. After all, how could someone so young even need saving in the first place?

A lot of my  affliction came from years of hearing so many adults give their testimony, reciting the minutest details of their salvation experience, seemingly, to the point of what color tie the preacher was wearing. Many from pulpits (not my father) expressed a point of view that, if you were unsure, you surely were unsaved. They preached, "I know that I know that I know." Well, I didn't "know." (I would go so far as to say that, even today, I don't "know.")

I can't count the number of times over the years I found myself in a "closet" praying, "Please, Jesus! If I'm not saved, save me!" The pain was nearly unbearable at times. I would sometimes feel as lost as a ball in high weeds!

I believed that I believed, but was still sometimes filled with fear that I had missed some important point somewhere in the process. Perhaps in my prayer, I hadn't confessed the right things or said the right words. I didn't know what! There seemed to be this nearly incessant nothingness that nagged me. It was unnameable and indefinable, but it bothered me nonetheless. I've often considered that the very fact that it was unclear and unspecific made it all the more bothersome. Just the simple fact of not knowing prevented me from dealing with it. I didn't know what was wrong, so I didn't know what to do. It was just there! It wouldn't go away!  Fear seemed to be my perennially returning unwelcome companion.

I suppose you can't truly deal with a problem when you only know the symptoms. When you can't identify what is causing them. How can you cure a disease if you don't what it is, I suppose?

Among the many inanities that vexed me was that I imagined a life committed to Christ might result in a missionary call to Africa or some other such horrifying possibility. Daydreams like this only made my problems worse. I can recall standing at a youth retreat in Nashville, being around twenty years old, deciding to finally, truly give God His way in my life. (A vow which I have broken many times through the years.) Yes, I struggled with my dedication to my Lord for a long, long time. Uh...I mean...I struggle with my dedication to my Lord. Always have. Always will.

I can't say exactly when I found anything I would refer to as peace about the matter, although, even at the age of thirty, and after, it still from time to time haunted me. (I imagine the problem was only exacerbated by the unrepented sin in my life.) Even after it began to dawn on me what my problem was, this feeling would continue to periodically bother me. Yup, just lingered, it did!

I've little doubt that the healing began from conversations with my dad. A lot of healing and wisdom (although sometimes unapplied) came from such conversations. Though we covered lots of ground on every topic from politics to history to religion, mostly, we talked about God.

The discussion topic that seemed to help me most in this problem area was that of, not only the security of the believer, but the dedication of the believer. We both believed strongly, "once saved; always saved," but dad always preached that salvation would inevitably lead to a life of holiness. He felt that any seed planted by the Holy Ghost would certainly lead to a healthy, fruit-bearing tree. If there was no fruit, there was no life.

More than once, we discussed how people, whatever age, would allegedly give their hearts to Christ and, at some later date, announce they had never truly made a commitment to Him. ("Commitment" being the operative word here.) They would, again, profess their faith and ask to be rebaptized. They then would rejoice in their new-found peace and proclaim their delight that, after having been so long mistaken, they had "at last found Jesus."

Now, I'm not one to tell someone whether or not they have true religion and, in my mind, being sure as sure can that you are "right with God" is of ineffable importance, but there are questions that come to mind whenever I hear of someone, someone I've felt I've known as a Christian, go through this process. Mostly, what occurs to me is a simple question: Will things be different now?

I've even seen this occurrence happen en masse. It tends, predominately, to occur in country churches. A new pastor comes to fill the pulpit, who is considered by many (definitely by himself) as a real firebrand. Within a year, he's got virtually the entire congregation "saved and baptized." He quickly convinces virtually the entire congregation that they were never truly saved in the first place. Then, they all get rebaptized. All except the deacons, of course. (There's no hope for them!)

Touching briefly on the subject of  deacons: I suppose things are complicated enough when the congregants get saved and baptized again. What do you do with a deacon who confesses he's never been saved? He sure can't be a deacon anymore! Can he? Can he?

Dad always called them "Bain & Holden" preachers. He named them that for a local tire company that would take your old tires and, for a fee, retread them. Just like new...almost. These preachers seemed to take great pride in persuading entire congregations that the solution for their problems, whatever their problems were, was that they had never been born again and needed to be.

Personally, I've often wondered if the "problem" with many of our parishioners was that the majority really didn't have a relationship with Christ. Especially the deacons! Maybe Bain & Holden preachers are actually onto something? Well, it's a theory.

The problem now was that the problem only continued. Same old, same old. Nothing changed. Sinners didn't come to Christ and Christians still were cold and indifferent. Or worse. So, if their issue was that they were lost and were now saved, why no change?

I can still remember hearing through the grapevine that a former Sunday School teacher of mine had gone through a similar saved and saved again experience. (She, incidentally, was the first person to give me my own Bible.) She was quite easily past forty, maybe fifty, when she, I don't know the details or circumstances, decided that she had never actually been saved.

Now, I've known this woman most all of my life. She attended a church my dad pastored when I was a child. She was an active member of the congregation and, as I said, even my Sunday School teacher.

Over the years, she came up in many a conversation at my father's household. We knew her as an energetic, busy woman, but also as pushy with loads of attitude. She always seemed to view herself as a little superior and never seemed much concerned with hiding her feelings. It seems tact was never her strong suit.

Fast forward a few decades. My path of life lead me, at least for a little while, to the church of my childhood where this particular woman was a member. This was some years after her most recent, shall we say, conversion. Somehow, regrettably, she even became my Sunday School teacher...again! (Yes, there were no actual men in this church.) In my own never to be humble opinion, I could see no difference between the woman of my boyhood and the woman of my adulthood. She seemed to be the same, cool, aloof, slightly self-righteous woman I and my family had known for decades. So, what was the effect of her conversion? Where was the change?

I believe it's worth examining exactly what she was doing in and with her life that could allow her to teach Sunday School, sit on church committees, work in various women's mission groups and generally be an active church member who, by her own profession, was lost the whole time. Was she lying to us little children in her Primary Sunday School class? Was she lying to her husband? Her family? Her two pastor sons? Herself? Her God? Was she deceived? Did she think she was saved, but wasn't?  Did she just feed everyone in her life a load of...bologna? Did she wake up one day and discover she just simply had no joy in her salvation? Did she realize that although she was a very busy bee, that she just simply treated others like crap? Did she think being saved was the cure? Did she spend decades not believing that Jesus was the Christ, the Son of the Living God? So many questions, yet so few answers.

Dad summed up her problem and that of many other Christians like her who made similar claims about their late-discovered-missing-salvation-experience in words similar to these:

Sometimes Christians give their hearts to the Lord, but most never seem to get around to committing their lives to Him.

Now, this, obviously, requires some explanation on my part.

So many of we believers, at whatever age, came to a realization that we need Christ in our lives. We understand that the alternative is Hell and we, rightly so, should accept Jesus and avoid that dreadful ending. Few, if any, understand the implications of being born again and the impact it has on our lives. Most just realize we want to avoid Hell and, one day, enter Heaven. Fortunately, God's mercy is deep and wide and He welcomes us in like the little children we are when we call on His name.

Now, all that is well and good and having a home in Heaven is the only choice that I personally would ever want to make. Still, isn't there more to it than that? Isn't there something in the Holy Scriptures about growing in our spiritual walk with our Savior? Aren't we supposed to learn more about Him? Aren't we supposed to learn to be more like Him? What was once called the "Perfection of the Saints"? (That also is topic for another blog.) How do we achieve such a state of grace? Does it happen by going to church, hanging with other Christians, praying a little and reading the Bible a little? Does it happen through osmosis? Does it just happen? Boom! (Entire Christian denominations think so.)

Too many of the newly saved begin their journey with the idea that once they give their hearts to Christ, everything will then be sunshine and roses. They, of course, have no idea of the rough and rugged journey that lies ahead of them. They seriously seem to expect it to just happen. They don't realize how much effort is involved in learning to not put effort into your Christian walk.

Years pass. They look around and discover they have become as complacent as those surrounding them. In their minds, many convince themselves they are even worse. They give inordinate attention to those who profess to be certain beyond the shadow of any doubt that they have salvation. They themselves feel little or nothing and are, in the wee, small hours of the morning, unsure of anything. Countless conclude that they surely missed the departure and are stuck on shore while all the other Christians must be partying on the spiritual Love Boat. (Or Gospel Ship, if you prefer.) They see all this as a sign that they are simply unsaved. They don't feel what they believe to be the "Joy of the Lord."  They leave themselves with no other conclusion but that they are on the outside looking in and are only strangers to God. They see themselves, in so many words, remaining in a state of sin, outside of God's grace. What else could it be, right?

Perhaps, worst of all, they receive bad counseling from, what I call, "Samurai Christians." These guys always go for the jugular! They always go for the kill!

You've met them too. They are those super-evangelists who are so hot for the prospect of saving a soul that they habitually jump to the conclusion that being lost is always the problem and being saved is always the cure. Being hammers, they see everything as a nail! They are focused like a laser beam on proselytizing every two-legged soul they meet and will have you reciting the "sinner's prayer" before you can bow your head and close your eyes. They then proudly put another notch on their Bible, bragging at church, on the phone or internet that they "won another soul for Jesus!" Yeah, Samurai Christians deserve a blog of their own. Don't worry, it's coming!

I commonly hear confused and listless Christians complain that their lives feel as empty as, in my words, unplowed fields. They bear no fruit, so they know not the joy of the vintage. Ya might say there are no goods in their "spiritual storehouses."

I can't help but ponder a few questions, regarding these pathetic waifs. Did they till? Did they plant? Did they water? Did they fertilize? Did they pull the weeds? Did they do any of those things that are required, not for salvation, but for a holy harvest? And they wonder why they don't "feel" anything? Feelings are great when they are good, but few realize how far removed from salvation they are.

Don't get me wrong. It's good to examine the relationship between yourself and your God. I think that's healthy! We should never take anything, especially regarding something so important, for granted.

If your relationship with a friend or even your Savior seems cold and indifferent, do you ask yourself, "Exactly how much have I myself invested in this relationship?"

So, what is the answer? How do we avoid the emptiness? Can we avoid the emptiness? Does feeling empty mean we are empty?

So, many times I've heard even educated, intelligent Christians use the words "faith" and " know" as if they are interchangeable. As if they are synonymous. They want to know things that are, frankly, unknowable. Most Christians can't stand to live without knowing, so they pretend they know things that they are supposed to take on faith. Thus, they often confuse the simple state of not knowing as not believing...or having never believed. They feel they must know or there is nothing to know. They, simply put, can't live by faith! Yes, faith is sometimes scary and uncomfortable, worsened by our natural fear of the unfamiliar and unknown, but when we put our faith in God, we discover things that we can't know if we never have faith. Things we will never know if we never admit that we don't know.

I've spent some time trying to figure out what salvation is, but also, what it is not. I've come to a few conclusions: It is not an algorithm of words, a scientific formula or a math equation that will lead you to a desired result. It's not an exercise and it's not recitation.

I suppose one day, actually, over a period of many, many days, and years, it finally began to dawn on me what salvation actually is. It is consciously accepting and believing that Christ died for me and that accepting his substitutionary death allows me to live forever with Him. It is choosing God!

We try so hard to focus on an event, a moment, a point in time where we asked Jesus into our lives. Not to contradict myself, but, yes, there should be an occasion in your life, more pronounced for some than others, where we realize we don't belong to Him and we decide we want to belong to Him. When the Holy Ghost calls and we willingly answer, it is truly only the beginning of our life. Still, trying to analyze and dissect such an event by attempting to hold it up to the standards of our own imaginings, is like examining the beaker in the laboratory and ignoring the chemicals forming the miracle cure within. Isn't it less about the mechanics than the results?

We cause so much consternation for ourselves and our fellow, albeit, weak minded, Christians. These arguments for formulaic faith cannot actually be backed up with Scripture. It is no more than just attitude, incited by unrepentant fear, a desire to be a part of the crowd, to fit in, and most importantly, to not stand out. It is a covetous, even idolatrous and sinful lust to put more faith in an event and our own self-assuredness than in the loving God who saved us and says, "Trust me!"

It's a silly little anecdote, but on a nearly daily basis, I see a small example of people's inability to trust. When I assist customers in picking up their order at work and I hand them a pen that is not really a pen, but I know it will write on the laser-paper receipt I just asked them to sign, I see the doubt in their eyes when I look at them and say those most fearful of words..."Trust me!"

I'm convinced that is all God really wants from us. Trust!

Songs are sometimes glorious, testimony is often thrilling, sermons can be invigorating and inspiring, but is there truly any higher praise we can offer the God Who gave so much for us, Who loved us more than His own life, than to merely trust Him?

Lastly, only one question, at least in my mind, remains:

Am I saved?

Yes, I was saved; I am saved; I will be saved!

Philippians 3:10 (KJV)
That I may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of his sufferings, being made conformable unto his death;

Jeremiah 33:3 (KJV)
Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not.