Recently, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, this story unfolded before me. I felt compelled to write it, but convinced myself to sleep first and then write it in the morning. That didn't work out so well. I kept waking up, until finally I gave up, because the story was coming to me even more clearly. Here is what He gave me:
The Intent of the Designer
Only one lane of traffic was needed, the slow lane. Onward, they came, at a snail's pace. Chevrolets, Buicks, and Plymouths. Occasionally, some lucky soul was fortunate enough to have a Crosley. Why fortunate, you ask? At a mere 925 pounds, smaller cars were the vehicles to envy in the town of Dry Bend. You see, each car owner traveled in this town by FOOT, PUSHING their car with their bare hands! (A Crosley is kinder to the sacroiliac than your father's Cadillac)
"Well, brother Billy-Bob, are you blessed today?" asked Pastor Buck, as he watched his head-usher pushing his pickup truck.
"I reckon I am, Pastor! Looky here, in my pocket, I've got the title to this here truck. I'm the genu-ine owner... title says so. Once mine, always mine, kinda like eternal security. KnowwhatImean, Pastor?"
"Yes, Amen, Billy-Bob! I like to see every member of my congregation blessed as you are blessed."
Pastor Buck began to stroke his moustache thoughtfully.
"We have a long tradition of car owners in this church. The elders are pleased to know it. Yes, well, as far as those young whippersnappers today, with their fuzzy dice and their bumper stickers... hmmmphh... I suppose it gives them somethin' to look at while they are pushin'. But what really matters is that everyone's got a title, everyone's got a vehicle. Yep, that's what it's all about."
Billy-Bob nodded, began to push his truck, then stopped again, appearing to be in deep thought. Then he spoke in hushed tones.
"Pastor Buck? Um, may I make a confession? Uh..."
Billy-Bob shifted his weight nervously. Pastor Buck raised an eyebrow.
"Well, it's just that... I don't always ENJOY being a truck owner. It just seems that...that somethin' is missin'...", Billy-Bob said, as he wiped the sweat from his brow.
"You're a mighty fine man, my best usher", Pastor replied. "You just keep on the straight and narrow. You don't need nothin' fancy here. Stick with what counts. You've got that title, bought and paid for. Now, no more of that foolish talk...Good day."
Billy-Bob nodded sheepishly, and began to push his truck with less vigor than before.
Then, in a dusty whirlwind, suddenly there appeared a time-travel machine! It landed with a thud, right between them! The door creaked as it opened. Out stepped Karl Benz and James Young.
"Ha ha ha ha! What a ride, Mr. Young!" Benz told his companion, slapping his back playfully. "But wait! What's this I see? I don't think it's 1875 anymore! In what year did we land THIS time?"
Dumbstruck, eventually, Pastor Buck and Billy-Bob found their voice boxes, and blurted out, in unison "It's 1945, of course!"
Benz and Young climbed out the door, brushed themselves off, squinted, then removed their sunglasses to wipe them clean on their sleeves.
"WHAT IN TARNATION??" Benz exclaimed, as he focused his eyes down the road.
"I see it... but I just don't believe it...." Young said, stunned.
"What's eatin' you boys?" Billy-Bob inquired.
Benz and Young looked again at the road, then glanced at each other in disbelief.
"I don't know if I should laugh or cry! This is PREPOSTEROUS!", Young exclaimed.
The propellers of the time machine whirring down, followed by all the shouting, began to draw a crowd. The Mayor stepped forward to hear what complaint was to be raised against his precinct.
"Mr Mayor, may we kindly speak to your townsfolk? We traveled far to get here today"
The Mayor grunted, but slowly nodded his approval. He lowered the brim of his hat.
Benz began to speak as every eye examined him.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am Karl Friedrich Benz, a German inventor who originally designed the horseless carriage, which you call an automobile. My fine traveling companion is James Young. He is a brilliant chemist from Scotland, who found a way to refine sweet crude into a light fuel that powers my design."
The crowd was delighted, smiling and nodding at the spectacle, but Mayor and Pastor grew more skeptical.
"I would like to explain to you the intent of the designer!", Benz exclaimed.
You could have heard a pin drop.
"When I was a boy, I used to tease my Mutter and Vater by hitching up the cart before the horse. They gave me a good whippin' for it, but we laughed for years at the memory of it."
The crowd chuckled.
"As you can imagine, I never got very far with that kind of tomfoolery. But I had a mind that was unafraid to experiment with design. It made me precious little difference if it had never before been done that way. As Thomas Edison once said "I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work." Benz explained.
"Is that why you convinced me to ride in that silly tin can? Good thing IT wasn't among the 10,000!", Young quipped. The crowd burst out in laughter.
"Good people of Dry Bend, please hear me. It was NEVER my intent for any man, woman or child to PUSH his vehicle with their bare hands!"
All jaws dropped. Pastor furrowed his brow, and put his hands in his pockets. Mayor leaned back, crossing his arms.
"May I break in?", Young inquired, Benz nodded.
"Oh, citizens of Dry Bend, if you had any idea of what I went through, in order to produce the gasoline to run this engine! There is a process of using agents to skillfully separate the volatile, more valuable fractions of crude petroleum. Chemistry of polymerization, alkylation, isomerization, and reforming..."
"Why don't you leave the reforming to ME?" Pastor quipped, dryly. Mayor poked his ribs with the nearest elbow.
Ignoring Pastor's comment, "A bit too much science mumbo-jumbo, don't you think, Professor?", Benz asked his partner with a wink.
Young exhaled, blushing a bit. "Suffice it to say that my product offers you the power that each of you are rightly entitled to have!"
The crowd gasped in surprise, all but the Mayor and Pastor, who grew more skeptical by the minute.
Billy-Bob stood up, waving his title deed above the heads of the crowd.
"I'm mighty proud to own that there pickup truck", he said."I carry this title just to remind myself of how I'm blessed!" Pastor grinned slyly.
Frustrated to no end, Benz replied with clenched jaw, "That is not the intent of my design! You are wasting all of my time, research, and effort, misusing my creation needlessly!"
Young broke in. "Allow me, please."
Clearing his throat, Young explained. "As the manufacturer of the vehicle, my colleague Benz fully intended for it to be used in conjunction with MY product, namely gasoline fuel!"
"Outrageous! It's never been that way in Dry Bend!", Mayor shouted, Pastor nodding vigorously in approval.
"Don't you understand, people?" Benz ignored Mayor and Pastor, connecting eyes with the townspeople, as he spoke to them from his heart. "It doesn't matter HOW many generations this tradition has been kept. What matters is the intent and the design of the manufacturer!"
Mayor and Pastor began to turn red, partly with humiliation and partly with rage. Suddenly, some of the fuzzy dice teens darted away from the crowd.
"C'mon guys! Let's give it a try!"
They reached the gas can in the time machine and began to fill their tanks. In a flash, they were joy-riding down Main Street.
"Woo hoooooooo! Yippee ti yi yahoo!!!!!"
Their cars made a mighty whoosh as they tore down the road.
"I'll never push old Betsy again!", one of them shouted, as the dice flew back with full force.
What is the morale of this story? I'm so glad you asked...
In every corner of this globe, one can find churches with one goal and one goal only: a ticket to Heaven. This ticket is portrayed in the story as the title deed to the car. Church members who espouse this approach attempt to content themselves with a life of powerless struggling, rarely feeling joy or enthusiasm. They want to claim Jesus as Savior, but reject the Holy Spirit who gives them power to live an effective Christian walk! They treat the Holy Spirit as if He is an accessory for which they have no use. They regard themselves as humble for choosing to struggle on in their own strength. But in fact, it is their pride that keeps them chained to a powerless, joyless life! The Father always wanted communion with mankind! He sent Jesus to pay the price for our sin, a ticket to Heaven, if you will. But for us to have the ticket alone was NEVER the intent of our Designer!
Jesus, right before His ascension, told the disciples that it was expedient for Him to go, so that the Comforter would come, clothing them with power from on high! Jesus said that He would ask the Father, and that He would send the Spirit upon them! So, the will of God is settled, the Spirit is meant for you! A Christian is no more intended to be without the Spirit than is a car with no fuel! It is a crude example, (no pun intended) I know, because the Spirit is MUCH more than power, He is God.
I exhort you never to be as foolish as the Mayor and Pastor of Dry Bend, who would rather remain powerless in order to justify themselves. Be like the teens who received the news with joy, gladly receiving the power to flow in the joy that the Designer intended! Amen? AMEN!!!
In the next episode, see Pastor Buck and Mayor get angry at the sounds of horns beeping, breaks squeaking, sights of headlights shining, cars zipping, and other joyful manifestations of newly-acquired power! LOL!
Lisa Schultz
Commentary: The tragic part, though, is that some think they are a Christian because they have made a mental decision. Many well-intentioned churches are having altar calls which say "Who wants to go to Heaven free and be happy, blessed and prosperous?" Only a fool would reject such an offer, but it is not a Biblical one. God calls us to repent of our sin, surrender all to Him, believe and receive redemption through Christ Jesus. We are made to be a new creation, where old things are passed away, behold, all is new. This can only be accomplished by the work of the Holy Spirit, not the flesh nor the soulish mind. May all search their hearts (including me) to be sure we are Biblically born-again, ready either to face death or to receive Him in His glorious appearing!