As I was washing my car last night, I couldn’t help but acknowledge a few similarities between my motor vehicle and the Christian life. Here were a few thoughts that swam around my head:
Seasoned cars resemble seasoned lives.
No matter how hard you clean and scrub the outside, to beautify and to purify, the significance of your vehicle will rise and fall on what’s going on inside. The single-most important function of a vehicle is that the engine is in good working condition. If the engine is in poor condition and is not reliable, then the value of the car dramatically decreases, regardless of how grand the outside may appear.
One of the cars I drive is old and quite unattractive; truly a humbling experience every time I get behind the wheel. It’s easy to observe that it, as with many individuals I have come in contact with, has had a difficult life. But despite its lacking appearance, it gets me where I need to go, when I need to get there, and has yet to fail me or leave me stranded on the side of the road. Sometimes the outside may deceive us but, ultimately, appearance isn’t as important as we might think.
Seasoned cars deserve a second chance.
Like I mentioned, my car isn’t eye candy. It’s rather unpleasant looking. But it deserves, at the very least, for me, its owner/master, to take care of what is going on the inside; to give it the fuel it needs to keep going and replace the parts that have stopped working. It deserves the chance, regardless of how weathered the outside might now appear, to be cleaned on the inside and the outside, to reflect it’s maximum amount of beauty at all times.
It saddens me when I see cars out and about that are not cared for. The owner holds no pride in the vehicle that gets him from point A to point B and it shows from all the dirt, clanks and rattles. Luckily, we serve a God – our rightful and prideful owner – that takes pride in his people, regardless of their outward appearance. Just like my car deserves a second chance, each and every individual deserves a second chance and this God we serve freely gives us that second chance; downward grace.
I’m reading “What Good is God?” by Philip Yancey (pre-order it here). In the book he refers to a simple, yet remarkable definition of grace that he learned from a friend; an unlikely source:
“From my friend George I learned that grace, like water, flows downward. When I climb mountains in my home state of Colorado, I see the power of that downward force. What begins as a tiny rivulet high up in a snowfield gathers strength as it trickles down to join the other streamlets to cut channels through dirt and grass and even rock. Over time that force can alter the landscape, can carve a canton like the Grand, all because it relentlessly seeks the lower part.”
Cars of the Second Chance.
People of the Second Chance.
See the resemblance?
