[Here’s a piece of a project titled Our Hope Springs Eternal: Letters for Life and Death. If you missed the first, you can find it here. I’m writing letters to a man named Russ through all the stages of the Christian faith. Here’s a draft of the second letter.]
A Letter to Those Trusting Jesus
Dear Russ,
I’m thankful for our recent exchange of letters. I enjoy hearing your questions and I’m honored that you’re considering my responses. I pray these letters are good for both of us. When I have conversation like this in person, it’s hard to stay on topic. And conversations online quickly turn into dumpster fires.
I appreciate you sharing the origin story of the anchor tattoo on your forearm. When I first saw it, I thought you might be a Navy veteran. Now that I know you merely picked it from options on the parlor wall, I can put that thought to rest. But it looks good on you, nonetheless.
We’re now in solid agreement that life has a bigger purpose than earthly pleasure and success. You’ve been there and done that. Me too. In your last two letters, you’ve hinted that there must be a God. You described evening sunsets and nights spent looking at the stars. I’m particularly fond of sunrises on early morning runs. It’s as if God is turning on the light switch to a new day. But you can’t stop at “there must be a God.” If there is a God, what’s he like? Can we know him?
You asked about how I came to faith in Jesus. As I approached high school graduation, my parents accepted an invitation to church out of social politeness. Fred and Renee invited them, and Mom and Dad didn’t want to say “no.” I walked into that church and quickly realized those people were singing to a God I did not know and speaking of a salvation I did not possess. I spent a season sitting on a back row and watching. Over time, people became friends and then like family. Marshall and Dennis repeatedly invited me into their homes. They shared good food and the life and ministry of Jesus. They didn’t judge, they loved. I learned of Jesus healing the sick, feeding the hungry, and walking on water. I teared up every time I heard about Jesus’ death. I was filled with hope when I heard of his resurrection. I began to ask, “Did Jesus die for me?”
One morning, while reading my Bible, I said out loud, “I now believe this for myself.” I realized that Jesus died for my sin and that forgiveness and eternal life could be mine. I surrendered my life to Jesus and was baptized during my freshman year of college. We can talk about church and baptism in letters to come.
You said, “I don’t feel worthy to follow Jesus. Why would he want me?” I did not feel worthy either. But I was comforted by the stories of Jesus. He once approached a tax collector and said, “Follow me.” Matthew got up without hesitation. At a dinner party at Matthew’s house, Jesus was criticized by the religious crowd for hanging out with sinners. Jesus responded, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick” and “I have not come to call the righteous but sinners” (Matthew 9:9-13). At that time in my life, I couldn’t explain it, but I felt sick. Jesus called Matthew and me too.
Thank you for taking my advice to read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. Yes, it is very difficult teaching. I’ve spent the last twenty-five years trying to understand it better and live it out more. Some days I see God at work in me; other days, I see how far I still must go. Pursuit of Jesus constantly makes me aware of my need for him. When I first read the Sermon on the Mount I was haunted by the command, “Do not worry” (Matthew 6:25) and Jesus’ call to look to the birds of the air and find evidence of God’s provision – even for birds! Worry was my favorite hobby. I’m still learning to trust.
Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). Notice that he did not say, “Get yourself together and follow me.” He invites us to come to him because we need him. I know I need that rest, and I suspect you do too.
I’ve got a mission trip to Milwaukee coming up soon. I can’t wait to tell you about it. We’ve got 53 church members going this year! Please tell me about your trip to Chicago and Wrigley Field.
I can’t fully express how much these letters mean to me.
