I have two sets of neighbors. On the east side is Mr. Jones. He’s a decent man, a loving husband, and an attentive father. He serves at the local soup kitchen at least once a month. He loves to talk to people about Jesus, and all that Jesus means to him. Indeed Jesus is Mr. Jones’ hero- he aspires to be just like him. Mr. Jones is at peace with his life. He’s content with where he is, and has every confidence about where he will spend eternity.
Mr. Smith, on the other hand, only spends time with his children every other weekend. They spend the rest of the time with their mother, his ex-wife. She divorced Smith after catching him in his affair. Mr. Smith wonders if he might soon end up visiting the local soup kitchen as well. With the child support, the cigarettes and work being so unsteady, there’s often month left after the money is gone. Mr. Smith doesn’t often like talking about Jesus. In fact, most of the time when others do he feels acutely embarrassed. He is anxious, uncertain about both the near term future, and his eternity.
Of course things could change, and I don’t pretend to have any magic glasses that can see into men’s souls. But if I had to make a guess, even a judgment, it would be this- Mr. Jones will suffer eternally the wrath of the Father. Mr. Smith will be welcomed with open arms into heaven. You see I’ve listened to Mr. Jones talk about Jesus. He’s expressed to me many a time how grateful he is for all that Jesus has done for him. Jesus has blessed his business such that it prospers. He’s blessed the man’s family, keeping it not only intact, but headed for a bright future. His boys are leaders in the local Fellowship of Christian Athletes, his daughter a peer counselor in the youth group. Mr. Jones thinks Jesus is terrific. His life wouldn’t be the same without Him.
Mr. Smith, on the other hand, is weighed down by his sins. He knows how badly he failed his wife, and in turn their children. His struggles with depression, as well as anger, he suspects, impact his lack of job security. And then there’s those accursed cigarettes. They have such a hold on him. He feels like a complete failure. Which, in turn, is why he is so often embarrassed when the conversation turns to Jesus. Mr. Smith wishes he could be more together like the people at church. He wants to be a faithful soldier of the Lord. But each Sunday he shows up feeling slovenly, his uniform besmirched with the week’s failures, stained with nicotine and regret.
Sunday, however, is where the difference shows. While Jones is confidently singing “Onward Christian Soldiers” Smith whispers with desperate hope another tune, about an amazing grace that saved a wretch like him. And, according to the Jesus Jones loves to talk about but does not know, Smith goes home justified. May we put away the folly of keeping up with the Joneses, and instead enter into the wisdom of breaking down with the Smiths.
