Clean Up in Aisle Three-Adventures on the Way to the Altar

Enjoy Guest Blogger: Lori Roeleveld

Once upon a time, I worked as a houseparent in a Christian agency caring for troubled children. There were several houses on the property and each was assigned a different supporting church to attend with our wards.

Unhappily, I found myself worshipping in the stiffest, most solemn congregation on the list of contributing parishes. These were some long-faced, serious, scowling believers, I tell you that! If the gospel is good news, no one had told these brothers and sisters. It was like attending calling hours for Jesus week after week.

In my house were several older teens and three, rambunctious eight-year-old boys. The older teens were as frightened as I was of our fellow worshippers, so they caught on immediately that this was not a place to cause trouble and behaved appropriately but eight-year-old boys have the spiritual gift of squirming.

One Sunday, two of my boys, Eric and Marcus, were plaguing one another throughout the deadly proceedings. I scowled. I pointed fingers. I made the death sign across my throat. All to no avail. Suddenly, just as the ushers presented the collection at the altar, the two took to pummeling one another so hard they rolled out of the pew right into the aisle!

I leapt from my seat to intervene but for several long moments, all I succeeded in doing was to become a huffing participant in their raucous and irreverent scuffle. Finally, two men who looked like congregational secret service agents came to my aid, picking the pugilists up by the backs of their necks and plunking them back into our cushionless pew.

Throughout the sermon, I fumed as the two, finally sensing my fury and knowing they’d pushed too far, sat as stiffly as young boys can possibly sit, seemingly enrapt in the pastor’s message. In the final moments of the sermon, knowing that when the service ended they would have to face the music, Eric leaned over to Marcus and whispered, “I have an idea. Do what I do.”

As only a true gospel preacher can, the pastor ended his message by issuing a fervent altar call for all who had seen the truth of their sinful condition and who wished to receive the forgiveness of Jesus to come forward to the altar right there and be set free.

Before I could snatch at their shirts, Eric leapt into the aisle followed quickly by Marcus. Eric began to wail and Marcus picked it up immediately after, both boys weeping loudly as they walked toward the altar. It was like a scene from a Christian version of Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn. The two repentant sinners were engulfed by weeping, rejoicing churchgoers, moved to see how the Holy Spirit had worked in these two rascally hearts.

I barely endured the rejoicing that followed in the wake of two lost lambs found before I dragged their forgiven backsides into our van and slammed the door. As I pulled out of the parking lot, I lectured them in the rearview mirror, “You do NOT accept Jesus just to get yourself out of trouble! Do you hear me?”

“Actually, Lori, that is kind of why people accept Jesus.” One of the older teens remarked amidst a convulsion of giggles from the entire older crowd.

“I thought you’d be happy I found a way to get us out of trouble, Lori.” Eric replied in feigned innocence.

“It really worked, too!” Marcus nodded.

The next week, as we pulled into the church parking lot, anyone who heard my warning to the group might have had serious concerns about my passion for building the kingdom of Christ. “I don’t want to see even ONE of you accepting Jesus this Sunday. Is that clear? When he issues that altar call, you stay in that pew or you’ll be facing MY wrath!”

It’s been many years but I often wonder about Eric, Marcus and the others. I was mortified back then but remembering their escapade makes me smile now. It also makes me think about how we ALL come to Jesus with mixed motives.

An older gentleman told me once that he would feel like a “cheater” accepting Jesus now, since he’d rebelled against Him his whole life. “If I accept Him now, it would only be because I want to escape trouble when I face Him after I die. I don’t deserve to go to heaven.”

None of us deserves heaven. Ever. Even if we’ve followed Jesus since we asked Him into our lives as little children. None of us has pure motives when we turn to Him and if we wait to try to purify our motives without His help, we’ll die waiting.

Thinking back, maybe Eric and Marcus were more honest than many of us as we approach the altar. They knew they were in trouble. They didn’t want to face the consequences of the trouble they’d caused. They knew accepting Jesus would get them out of trouble. Sounded like a good deal and they took it. I think there’s an eight-year-old in all of us that sees the irrefutably great deal Jesus extends and we should let that eight-year-old spirit walk us down the aisle.

Check out Lori’s blog: http://loristanleyroeleveld.blogspot.com