A Pilgrim’s Digression

“You must be born again. In the book of John, chapter 3 verse 7, Jesus tells us, ‘Verily, verily, I say unto thee, Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.’ The Bible tells us clearly this is the answer. The only answer. ‘Not by works alone�’ We must become like children again, suffer the rebirth of our spirit and thereby avoid the lake that burneth into which all the unrepentant shall be cast at the end of time.”

The preacher pauses. His name is Pastor Gabriel, a name that is almost certainly a pseudonym. The pianist has quietly taken her bench and has begun playing “Because He Lives.” The tune is soft and tear-evoking. The pianist is a tiny, fifty-ish woman named Theresa, so tiny she might be considered a dwarf. People think she is so cute because she carries a small, wooden footstool with her everywhere she goes so that she can rest her feet on it as she sits in a pew or at a restuarant table.

Because he lives
I can face tomorrow
Because he lives
All fear is gone

A few people have begun quietly humming the tune. Pastor Gabriel continues.

“As you sit here today, probably already thinking about what you’re going to have for breakfast at Shoney’s, I want you to ask yourselves: If, later this morning, I were to choke on a piece of bacon and die, what would happen to my eternal soul? Am I really confident that I would go to Heaven? Have I accepted the Lord Jesus Christ as my personal Savior? Or am I just going through the motions, attending church to please my husband or wife, but otherwise giving no thought at all to the salvation of my soul.”

Because I know
He holds the future
And life is worth living
Just because he lives

The piano has been growing louder as the preacher speaks. More people are humming; some even gently sing. A couple women hold their arms above their heads, their palms upraised, as they close their eyes and sway.

“Those of you who have never accepted Jesus Christ as your personal Savior, will you come forward today and make the commitment that will cleanse the sin from you like grime from a miner’s face? Will you soften the stone of your heart and let Him in? Let Him dwell and live inside you? You will never regret it. Come forward now, and one of our pastoral assistants will help you say the prayer that will release you from your bondage to Satan. If you have already accepted Christ into your heart, but want renewal, come forward and pray with us and receive anointment.”

One, two people step out of the pews. Now everyone is really singing, reaching for a full-throated, high-pitched roar on the last couple lines of the chorus, “Be-cause … I … Know … He Holds … the fu-ture.”

Looking around him, a boy, twelve year old Bryan Morse, notes that many of the men aren’t singing. Most of the really old men are singing, some of them feebly lifting their hands from their walkers and raising them about shoulder-height in imitation of the praying, praising women. However, many of the younger men—the men who would be the same age as his parents, had his parents lived—these men stand there stony-faced and silent, staring down into the slots on the back of the pews where the hymnals are kept, or else intently studying the decorative flower arrangements that punctuate the stage on which the preacher stands.

“These must be the ones with hardened hearts,” Bryan thinks. Then, “But I am no better. Why can’t I move? Why can’t I force myself to go up there? I need to go up there. If I die today I will burn in hell.”

Bryan does not move, although he does sing.

And then one day
I’ll cross the river
And find that death
Holds no dominion
Just because he lives.

Pastor Gabriel has to shout into the microphone to be heard above the clamorous, off-key singing. His face is red, either from heat or from shouting or both.

“I know there are more of you out there, more of you who will leave the house of God today and go out into the world damned for all eternity. You know it, too. How can you reject this gift that Christ has offered you? How can you harden your heart and simply turn away? Come up here, Brother. Come up here, Sister. He died and rose again that you may live. This is the gift of eternal life He is offering. And you refuse it? You throw it back into His face? Your rejection crucifies Him all over again. With your refusal to acknowledge Him Lord, you drive the nail into his right hand. With your refusal to listen to his plea, you stab the sword into His side. When you walk out of that door today, by turning your back on all that He has offered, you are like one of the Roman soldiers hoisting Christ on his cross to the sky for the carrion crows to feed upon.”

Bryan shivers. Damn. Damned. Hell. His Grandmother stops singing, nudges him, then leans down and whispers in his ear, “Isn’t it about time you went up there?”

He whispers back the worst lie he has ever told in his life, “I was already born again in Junior Church last week.”

His Grandmother does not even doubt him. She smiles benevolently upon him, saying, “Finally! Oh, I am so proud of you.”

“I’m damned now, if I wasn’t before,” Bryan thinks. His heart beats painfully hard and he is sweating a little. “This must be how a thief or murderer feels,” he thinks. Why did he have to lie about that? He had heard something one time about an unforgivable sin. Suddenly, he was possessed with the certainty that he had just committed it.