MAX ON LIFE

80. Our church is having trouble getting along. Sides are being drawn, and tempers are flaring. What can we do?

The church resembles a family on summer vacation. You know the experience. They pile in the car and hit the road. Initially, the enthusiasm soars and moods are good. But three hundred miles of interstate takes a toll. Johnny uses too much of the seat. Heather won't share her pillow. Dad refuses to ask for directions, and Mom has to stop at the restroom again. Candied apples fall on the carpet. Feet smell, and tension swells. There is a time in every trip when each family member has this thought: I'm getting out of the car. I'll hitchhike. I'll walk. I'll do anything. Just get me out of this car.

But do we? No, we stay in the car. Why? One, we can't reach the destination alone, and, two, we are family.

Can't the same be said about Christians in a congregation? We don't spill the candy, but we spill the beans. Our feet may not stink, but our attitudes do. We grow weary of one another. Some start to smell. But do we get out of the car?

No. Apart from the Father, we can't reach the destination. And, besides, we are family.

Not always easy, is it? I once saw a person on a religious broadcast with poofy hair and pink clothes and bright shoes, and you should have seen how his wife was dressed. How can we be in the same family? I wondered. The answer came as they began to speak. They spoke genuinely of Christ on the cross. They spoke of grace for all sin. I'm not too keen on the way they look, but I love the One to whom they look. And since we look to the same One, are we not family?

Then there is the fellow with whom I disagree about everything. Politics. Ethics. What he sees as important doctrine, I see as tradition. What I see as necessary change, he sees as rocking the boat. I've never known a man with such poor judgment. But each Sunday we sit in the same church. Each Sunday we partake of the same bread and drink of the same cup. And each Sunday I'm reminded: the Lord determines who sits at the table, not me. And if the Lord invites him and me to the same table, are we not family?

We dress differently. We think differently. We are different. But if we're in the same car, being driven by the same Father, headed toward the same place, can we not accept one another?

By: Max Lucado

P.S. On the same lines as Pastor John's sermon this past Sunday talking about the different church denominations.....