When
they crucified Jesus, the Romans placed
Him between two thieves. Each of those
thieves asked Jesus to save him. The
Lord only saved one.
I’ve
been both of those thieves.
When
I was 21, I was sitting on the top back step of an upstairs-downstairs duplex
trying to figure out how to get the huge metal desk my father had given me out the
back door and down the steps without dropping it, falling, or being crushed to
death by it. My roommate and I couldn’t
take the desk down the much wider front steps
because we were breaking our lease and sneaking out of the apartment.
My
life was a mess.
I’d
dropped out of school, lost both of my full scholarships, completely screwed up
all of the important relationships in my life, and now I was a fugitive from a
ghetto landlord, and there was a giant grey desk jammed into the kitchen doorway
behind me.
I
plopped down on the steps and prayed. I
asked God to forgive me for my sins. I
asked Jesus to be my Savior.
Nothing
happened.
I
don’t just mean that there was no spectacularly miraculous or emotional
display. I mean nothing happened inside
me.
I
was not convicted of sin. I did not feel
the assurance of salvation. It was not
the beginning of a new life. My heart
was not strangely warmed. No new
birth. No regeneration. I…I know I was not changed.
I
had prayed the sinner’s prayer, but I wasn’t
saved.
For
a few minutes I sat, waiting. Then I
abandoned the desk and stuffed the rest of our stuff into my car. The landlord caught us pulling out of the
driveway. (Our downstairs neighbor had snitched.) I lied.
We left, and I kept right on sinning the sinful sins I had sinned before.
I
was still the first thief.
The
first thief on the cross next to Jesus cried out, “If You are the Christ, save Yourself and us.” (Luke 23: 39)
He didn’t regret his actions; he regretted the consequences. He didn't believe Jesus was the Messiah, but he thought it was worth a shot.
But,
the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the
outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7)
God
knew that what I wanted on those steps was a rescue not a relationship. God
knew I wasn’t humbled. I was hustling
like a thief trying to escape execution.
About
a year later I was engaged and a few months out from the wedding. I had tried
“getting myself together” but I felt myself falling apart. Around 2 A.M., alone on the 3rd
shift at a convenience store off I-85, I locked the doors, fell on my knees
between the snack food aisles in front of the beer cooler and gave my life to
Christ. I confessed everything. I
surrendered everything. I submitted to
whatever God wanted me to do, go through, or become.
I’ve
never cried so hard in my life.
I was
absolutely broken. I was whole for the
first time. And I have never been the same.
That night Jesus saved my soul like He’d saved the other thief crucified
next to Him.
The
thief on the other cross rebuked his friend and said, “Do you not even fear God, seeing you are under the same condemnation? And
we indeed justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this Man has
done nothing wrong.” Then he said to Jesus, “Lord, remember me when You come
into Your kingdom.” (Luke 23:40-42)
His
prayer wasn’t very well constructed. It missed
several crucial theological benchmarks. Dude
didn’t even say, “Amen.”
But
the Lord looked at his heart, and Jesus
said to him, “Assuredly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise.”
(Luke 23:43)
On the
floor of that gas station, God looked at my heart and assured me that I would
be with Him in Paradise.
A personal
relationship with Jesus is a relationship between your spirit and the Holy
Spirit, a heart-to-heart connection between you and God. If you give the sound of your words to Jesus
but not your heart, you’re stuck on the steps, hanging on the first thief’s
cross, still doomed.
You
can fool me, your mama, and the entire church, but you can’t hide your heart from God.
The
flip-side is that you don’t have to get yourself together. You don’t have to memorize an eloquent liturgy
of repentance. You don’t have to speak
in tongues or first give a sacrificial seed-offering. You don’t have to be in the right place nor
do you have to wait for the right time.
All
you have to be is sincere. You just have to be honest with God and
yourself. You just have to let go, and
let Him.
Jesus
knows your heart, and He still wants you for Himself.
He received
a condemned thief. He received me. He’ll receive you.
Give
your heart to Him.
For
real.
---Anderson T. Graves
II is a writer, community organizer and consultant for education, ministry,
and rural leadership development.
Rev.
Anderson T. Graves II is pastor of Miles Chapel CME Church in Fairfield,
Alabama; executive director of the Substance Abuse Youth Networking
Organization (SAYNO); and director of
rural leadership development for the National Institute for Human Development (NIHD).
Email atgravestwo2@aol.com
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P O
Box 132
Fairfield,
Al 35064
