This is a short story I wrote for the SEA Scribblers Short Story Contest. The rules stipulated that I needed to use one or more of the three photo prompts in my story, and it had to have a Christmas/winter theme. This is my entry; however, it didn't win any place or an honorable mention. The narrator's growth through the story is written from first-hand experience, as I went through a very similar process.
With
Truth and Grace by Jordan Jachim
“He
rules the world with truth and grace,
And
makes the nations prove
The
glories of his righteousness
And
wonders of his love.”
Isaac
Watts’s carol Joy to the World had
long been a favorite of mine. But as I
stood singing it in church, my mind was disturbed by a paradox. How could these people be singing that Christ
ruled the world with truth when they did not live like it? Some of the churchgoers voted for ungodly
politicians who stole money and persecuted those who followed the Bible. Others did not interact with God’s children
as they rushed out of church at the last “Amen” to watch a sports event. The few who did remain were not interested in
discussing important spiritual matters but only the latest novel they were
reading.
But
the thoughts passed from my mind as soon as we were dismissed from church on
Sunday afternoon. They only returned on
the following Saturday evening while my sister practiced Joy to the World on the piano. I began thinking once again about the problems
I saw in the church. First I enumerated
them in a long list; then I thought about remedies. But every remedy that entered my head
required a strong leader to carry it out.
And who was better fitted to become that leader than me? In a few months I would graduate from high
school and could then move on to leading a church. Under my leadership, it would flourish, modelling
God’s uncompromising truth, and becoming a leading voice for reform in our country. I went to bed that Saturday night, hopeful of
the grand changes I would initiate.
***
I
seemed to be ascending into the sky, filled with hopeful and optimistic
thoughts. The higher I climbed, the
higher I wanted to climb. Finally I
reached a height where I could look down on the earth. The orange sunset filled me with a sense of
satisfaction as I contemplated the dark world below me. How high I had come! While I might not have attained the heights a
few had reached, yet I was far above the world of darkness. Surveying my achievement, I realized with a
start that I was not alone.
“It
is good to see you.” The voice came from
a woman in white with thick golden hair.
Her eyes were kind but sad as she looked at me. “I have heard that you are discontented with
your church.”
“How
can I be content when they do not follow God’s ways?”
“Do
you follow God’s ways?”
“I
try my best, even if I sometimes fail,” I evaded. “But the others do not. If only I could lead them to living in God’s
truth! They need a strong leader.”
“Living
in God’s truth is the desire of every true Christian. But that desire cannot come from another
person leading them. It must come from
God.”
She
sighed, and I thought it was a sigh of weariness. “You must follow me, for I will show you
something.”
Without
warning, she stepped forward. She fell
towards the earth and after a few seconds of indecision, I followed. We passed the atmosphere, and continuing our
course, landed softly at the corner of Washington and Lossberg.
“That’s
my church,” I said incredulously. “Why
were you sent to show me that?”
She
made no answer, but opened the door and motioned for me to enter. Attendance was smaller than I remembered and
something seemed different. Perhaps it was
that no usher greeted me, or that no one smiled at me as I sat down. Everyone’s head was down, fixed on their
Bibles, and each wore a grave face.
Perhaps they were just being reverent, I mused.
But
my thoughts were diverted when the minister opened a side door and walked onto
the platform. I noticed his icy blue
eyes, shaded by expressive eyebrows that moved up and down to emphasize his
texts. His face was very somber, at
least what was not hidden behind a black mask.
Why did he wear a mask in church?
But I had no time to ponder this since he began his sermon.
His
sermon dealt with many of the same evils I had noticed in my church
before. He thundered against
money-thieving politicians and unjust laws.
Next, he outlined the lack of spiritual community in his church. When he finished, the people filed out of the
door until I was the only one left. The
masked pastor came up to me and greeted me.
“I
am glad that you came to our church. And
you did not run out of the door after my last prayer.”
“I
want to have fellowship and be edified by our conversation.”
His
face broke into a smile. “I am glad that is the case for you. You will likely make an excellent addition to
our church. But you need a few lessons
from me first. After all, you voted for
Ryan Jenkinson.”
“And
why should I not?” I asked in surprise.
“His
HB.5067b could strike against religious freedom in this country.”
“That
bill—I read it—merely exempts churches from certain regulations pertaining to
their tax-exempt status. There wasn’t a
word about more regulation for churches.”
“I
just finished Wolf’s Best Friend. It’s a novel about a man and a wolf who
become friends.”
“Reading
fiction is an ungodly and pernicious pastime.
All orthodox church leaders have spoken out against it.”
“I
agree that many novels should be used as fuel for bonfires, but this one was
written from a Christian perspective. It
was an allegory, filled with the beauty of God’s creation. Why,” I added, “I’ve even written several
short stories to illustrate Christian truths in a—”
“All
fiction is expressly designed to help the reader escape into fantasies rather
than pursuing God’s kingdom.”
“What
about John Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress? That illustrates Christian truths and was
written by an orthodox church leader.”
“If
you hope to remain a part of this church,” the pastor’s eyebrows lowered, “you
must not waste your time in these frivolous activities.”
“This
is absurd! You are free to share your
concerns, but you are attempting to claim lordship over my conscience with your
rules. That is reserved for God alone.”
“I
am not claiming lordship over your conscience.
You are.”
“No,
I am not,” I fired back. “I claim that
for God alone.”
“In
attacking me, you have attacked yourself.”
“How?”
Photo Prompt #3 |
“Who
am I?” he demanded.
My
face froze as I contemplated the man sitting across from me. Now that the mask was removed, there could be
no doubt of his identity.
“Yes,”
he said, in answer to my baffled look.
“I am you. I follow your rules; I
implement them with your zeal. The only
difference between us is that I have power!
I am in the position of church leader.
This is what you will become!”
I
sank my face in my hands as the world seemed to whirl around me. When I finally raised my face, my guide stood
before me. Of the pastor there was
nothing.
“Why
was I such a fool?” I groaned. I was now
anxious to make atonement for my misguided zeal and made a promise that I would
never hold convictions and tell them to others.
“One
cannot compromise truth for peace if one is a believer in the word of God,” she
said gently.
“Then
how can I share my convictions without becoming like—like what I have seen?”
“What
song brought this train of thought originally?”
This
was an odd question, but it shifted the current of my thoughts and I replied,
“Isaac Watts’s Joy to the World.”
“Yes. In the fourth verse, it is stated that Christ
rules the world with truth and grace.
These are the two virtues you need to interact with others. Because you believe in Christ and his word,
you have truth. But it must be shared
with grace. That is what Christ did to
you before you believed in him. He
blessed you with health, life, the love of your family and friends, while
telling you of his free gift of eternal life.
Follow Christ’s pattern.”
“Thank
you,” I said with feeling. “Looking at
it now, I see that I needed this lesson.”
“But
do not compromise the truth under a guise of ‘grace.’ For that is not grace, but a license to
sin. The apostle Paul writes well of it
in the sixth chapter of the Epistle to the Romans.”
“Thank
you again.”
“You
needn’t thank me,” she replied. “I am
just a servant of God, as you are. May
God bless you.”
As
she turned to go, she looked at me, and said with a smile, “When sharing truth,
you might start by telling others of truth and grace. Look in John chapter 1, verse 17.”
She,
the church building, and finally my consciousness, slowly faded into blinding
white light…
“It’s
Sunday morning! Time to get up and get
ready for church!” I heard my mother
call cheerily.
So
it was all a dream, I mused. But to me,
this was unlike any dream I had ever had.
The important truths and the vivid way they had been taught stayed with
me. And I realized that it had been
accurate. I had been too forceful when
sharing my convictions with others. But
God in his mercy had taught me this lesson: to share truth seasoned with
grace. That was why Christ had come, so
stated the Apostle John. The law was
from Moses, but Jesus had brought truth and grace when he came to earth that
first Christmas day. That Sunday morning
I went to church with a new-found love of Christ’s love, determined to share it
with others—with truth and grace.
I appreciated the lesson you had to share here, Jordan. It's such a vital one to learn, as we defend faith. As I mature, many times I discover that other people I thought were compromised were simply further along in the grace of truth than I was. Thanks for sharing your story!
ReplyDelete~Schuyler
I'm glad that you were blessed by it! I would also like to thank you for the contest, which gave me a push to write this story and to begin writing stories again. Have a great day!
Delete~Jordan