A Judgment of Works
“But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?” (v. 20).
When I was in eighth grade, we went on a class trip to tour an exhibit on the HMS Titanic. We saw pictures and footage of the building of that great ship, heard stories about the people who booked passage on its voyage, and even walked through life-sized replicas of the rooms. When I made it to the first-class cabin, I noticed the pale mannequin lounging in the corner and quickly went on to study the bed, chairs, clothing, and other curiosities. As I began to walk on down the hallway, a girl in the group behind me screamed. The mannequin had stood up to talk to them!
Of course, it wasn’t a mannequin at all. He was a slender actor who had covered his face and hands with white makeup. No one had looked closely enough to think he was anything other than a mannequin until he moved. The life in his limbs was our first clue that he wasn’t plastic.
These days, people stay awfully busy. We work and volunteer and play hard. As we run from one activity to the next, we rarely have time to notice people around us. Why should we expect anyone, including people not in the family of God, to tell we are Christians if the life in our limbs doesn’t show it? (Michelle D. Avery)
When I was in eighth grade, we went on a class trip to tour an exhibit on the HMS Titanic. We saw pictures and footage of the building of that great ship, heard stories about the people who booked passage on its voyage, and even walked through life-sized replicas of the rooms. When I made it to the first-class cabin, I noticed the pale mannequin lounging in the corner and quickly went on to study the bed, chairs, clothing, and other curiosities. As I began to walk on down the hallway, a girl in the group behind me screamed. The mannequin had stood up to talk to them!
Of course, it wasn’t a mannequin at all. He was a slender actor who had covered his face and hands with white makeup. No one had looked closely enough to think he was anything other than a mannequin until he moved. The life in his limbs was our first clue that he wasn’t plastic.
These days, people stay awfully busy. We work and volunteer and play hard. As we run from one activity to the next, we rarely have time to notice people around us. Why should we expect anyone, including people not in the family of God, to tell we are Christians if the life in our limbs doesn’t show it? (Michelle D. Avery)
Is there life in your limbs?
