In recent days we have had a free book table on the University of Idaho campus. One of those days we had a sign at the end of the book table that said “You Have to be Bad to Go to Heaven.” A student came up to the table and began and continued to turn over each book so the back cover was up. Out of curiosity we asked him why he did this. He replied, “If I have to be bad to go to heaven, I thought I would do something not very bad so I would be sure to go to Heaven.” I assured him that he had already qualified with a minimum of badness long before he turned over books. I asked him what his background was. He said that he had been baptized Roman Catholic. Soon he asked if I knew what Unitarian was. I assured him I knew. He said, “I am Unitarian.” “You just told me you were Roman Catholic.” “In Unitarian you can believe anything and it all counts.” I changed the subject and asked him, “If I believe the earth is flat and that the sun revolves around the earth, does that make it true?” “No!” “If I believe that the earth is round and revolves around the sun does that make it true?” “No.” “If I believe in the law of gravity does that make it true?” “No.” “If something is true the beliefs of people are unrelated to the truth. What I believe has nothing to do with absolute truth.” “Yes.” “Then please do not tell me what you believe. That does not make it so. Start looking for absolute truth before you believe.” He received a booklet before he left.
As you read through the book of Acts, look at every conversion, and see what happened right before it: what was said, who said it. The situations are the same today. A long time ago, my duty in the Officer’s Christian Fellowship was the east coast of the United States. I went to an officer’s office at Fort Lee, VA, and stayed overnight, then I went on to Norfolk and Fort Bragg. Forty years later, I was no longer on the staff of OCF, but I had to go to Denver. While I was in Denver, I checked in at the OCF offices. There was the same Air Force officer I had met in Fort Lee, retired now, a colonel. I had stayed in his house when he was a first lieutenant. He asked me, “Do you know what happened when you stayed overnight?” I said, “No, I just remember staying in your home.” He said, “You led the next-door neighbor to Christ.” I had no memory of it. Ten years after that, I was speaking at a banquet at the Hotel Salisbury, and who was th...
Comments