THE IMPLICATIONS OF A FEARFUL VERDICT

What are the major takeaways? First of all, we can’t fool God. This point is too obvious, platitudinal even, that it appears un-worth mentioning. But the actions of human beings warrants that it be stated over and over again, at risk of sounding hackneyed. Men (even Christians) are wont to act in ways that suggest that they have forgotten who God really is. Otherwise, how does it come into the minds of men, for example, to rob God, as Malachi puts it? Concerning this, a shocked Spurgeon has this to say: 

“‘Will a man rob God?’ The prophet asks in amazement, as if such a thing could not be… The question is asked as if it were improbable, if not impossible. A man, an insignificant creature, dependent upon his God for the breath whereby he lives, will he rob God, the good, the just, the great and terrible One, who can crush him in a moment? ‘Will a man rob GOD?’”

Despite the futility of the act, men attempt not only to rob God, but by their actions and inactions, fool God. We should be thankful that God is slow to anger.

The second takeaway is as touching from where, we, as Christians, seek validation. If I go back to the graduate school admission anecdote, I would like to add that everyone applying for such admissions knows the weight of reference letters. Many times (although not always), a letter from a professor is weightier than a letter from a non-academic employer. A letter from a well-known and reputable professor is also weightier than an obscure lecturer. In some cases, a letter from a professor in a particular field of study is weighed stronger than a reference letter from another field, depending on the program to which one is applying. Reference letters are important because they give the admissions committee a third person’s (and hopefully, unbiased, although not necessarily so) perspective of the applicant’s strengths (and weaknesses) to aid the committee make a more informed decision about the applicant’s candidacy. This means the source of reference letters make a difference. 

We all can be fooled into measuring ourselves based on the reports we receive from our friends, from people we pray more than, from people compared to whom we know more of the Bible. Some pastors establish the authenticity of their ministry by showing how many countries they have preached in, how so-and-so said this-and-that about them. Gospel musicians feel that their ministry is blessed because they have won music awards organized by non-Christians whose attention is fixated on cadence, beat, quality of voice, etc. Let us not be fooled. What God says about us is not only the most important thing. It is actually the only thing that matters. Barclays Bank employees do not receive their assessment from Papaye restaurant. I do not mean that we cannot accept the praise of men. For praise, if it is not exaggerated, and if it is due, should be accepted. (In fact, sometimes, not accepting praise that is due one is pride). But this always ought to be received with pinches of salt, knowing that men see not as God sees. Men look on the outside. If we fall in love with the praises of men, we will eventually become like the Pharisees, who loved the praises of men rather than God (Jn. 12:43). Paul reminds us that it is not those who commend themselves—or who are commended by others (remember Samuel and Eliab in 1 Sam 16:6)—who are approved, but the one whom the Lord commends (2 Cor. 10:18). The one who is not intoxicated by the praises of men is neither shaken by their criticism.

Wouldn’t it have been a more beautiful thing for Christ to have said, “You have a reputation for being dead, but are alive”? It does not matter what anyone else says as long as the recommendation letter of Christ about our lives is positive. 

Let’s focus, thirdly, on the fearfulness of the verdict. I will borrow your imagination again. You have lived all your life saying you’re a Christian. You have fellowshipped with the saints. You have fellowshipped with the Lord at the communion table. You have played the charade so well, fooling even your pastor. You have risen through the ranks of spiritual positions and earned yourself some fine titles. Now, you really do not belong here, but no one knows.

Until today. Christ has made your deeds clear. You’re like Belshazzar. There’s a handwriting on the wall against you and the meaning is too clear: you have been weighed and found wanting. Your works, Christ judges, do not meet the requirements of his God. You look at your church family. If you have a pastor like mine, you wouldn’t like to look at his face, for he has vowed that if you’ll be put in hell, he’d request a special favor from Christ: to whip you first before your eternal torture. 

But that’s not the worst part. What will you do when, finally in hell, you meet all those people who mockingly called you “Papa”? Those people with whom you did not drink because you said you were abstaining from alcohol for your God? What would you say to those people to whom you preached and they refused to believe? Surely, they would have felt that they deserved their place in hell, but what will they say to you and about you? I know. They will taunt you:

“Man of God, we know that we sinned. And though the fire blazes and the worms do not die, we feel, at least, that we are deserving of our lot, for we lived in rebellion to God. Evil was our sole delight. But you [and here, they’ll laugh], you, with all your evangelism—what, we even insulted you the last time you came to preach to us—with all your prayer, with all your going to church, with all your Christian songs… You? Have you really become like one of us?”

And you’ll find that even in hell, you will be lacking company. For although you’re not fitting to be among the saints, you’re not quite accepted in the fraternity of sinners. But you are there all the same. 

Fourth, and perhaps, the most exciting part, is that there is still a window of repentance. There are those who do not like to be rebuked. But they forget that rebuke, discipline, punishment are all God’s resources of grace to help us get home safely. They’re given today, when we have time to change, so that we will not hear them on the final day when there is no opportunity for repentance. (But even on this earth, repentance is not always guaranteed. Ask Esau). 

Thankfully, Christ doesn’t just deliver the verdict. Instead, he adds, 

“Go back to what you heard and believed at first; hold to it firmly. Repent and turn to me again” (Rev. 3:3).

You (I use “you” from here referring to myself also) have been bought with the precious blood of Jesus, but you’re living like your sins are washed with soap. You have heard so many sermons, God has brought so many opportunities for change your way. You have been given talents, but you have hidden them, or not using them at their optimum. You’re lazying around instead of redeeming the time. It is expected of stewards to be faithful but you are not. Much heavenly investment has been made into you. But you’re like the Isaiah 5 vineyard: fruitless. There’s nothing to show for your salvation. You’re an investment gone lost. You have been weighed, and been found wanting. You have missed the mark. You are deficient. You have not met the requirements of your God. 

Why are you waiting to hear this on judgement day? You know you’re like the Church of Sardis. Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die…Remember what you received and heard; obey it, and repent. For kind though he is, it is a fearful thing, I tell you, to fall into the hands of the living God (Heb. 10:31).