Where is the Difference?

The Lord has put a difference between thee and the Egyptians…

Sit back in your earthly chair and watch as the world passes through the mall of this life. Lonely and hopeless some pass by with their black clothes and colored hair bedecked with jewelry from another time, holding on to one another as if being bold and at the same time afraid. What are their stories? Some are just being rebellious having seen no purpose in the world as they see it and who can blame them? Some have been deeply scarred by a childhood of abuse and violence while some consider themselves unattractive and so they escape by accepting and enhancing their personal perceptions. Some will take their own life shortly having been captured by the evil one who they embrace on some level without fully understanding the consequences. Empty shells, blindly searching for meaning and love but finding only death.

Oh but look, here comes a lady with her little girl, she looks more like us. But remove the emotional tarpaulin and you can see the real story. Her little girl’s daddy has left them for some other female shell and every step is another painful journey of uncertainty, wondering who will come, and how can she start all over. She has lost the capacity to dream and her depression is barely manageable. Suddenly her world has become a prison, and all the plans of houses and anniversaries and Christmas’s are nothing more than added weights to the burden she now carries. The little girl has already been targeted by the evil one and in the future she will become filled with anger and rejection and will cover her pain with, yes, dark clothes and makeup, colored hair, and an abrasiveness that seeks to inflict revenge on anyone who steps into her path.

Here comes a man that as he gets closer looks as if he walks somewhat like a woman and his companion is another man. He was born a little different and being raised by his smothering grandmother only added to his feeling of weakness in the company of other boys. Through years of systematic and emotional torture at the hands and mouths of his classmates he withdraws into his own world only to find other boys who have similar experiences. He finally feels accepted on some level and in this new genre he is affirmed and reinforced by others with whom he shares a commonality. Deep down inside, a place that only he visits rarely and quickly leaves, is a sorrow and a nagging feeling that he wishes things were different. This is all he has now and he embraces it.

Look, here comes a man on death row. He is waiting to die for a brutal murder he committed and his world is a 15 x 10 room. Darkness and the stench of dirty men are the daily atmosphere as he marks his time like an animal in a slaughter house waiting for its turn. No one knows the nights he was beaten by a drunken stepfather who used him to vent his own pent up rage. No one knows how it was to feel betrayed by his mother who always looked the other way. No one knows what it was like to have hate deposited inside his soul every single day until he could no longer hold it in. But at least we will soon be rid of this sociopath for good.

The Lord has called us to be different. On one level that entails not participating in the lifestyle that the world enjoys but on another level we are supposed to show supernatural compassion and understanding. How quick we are to judge this fallen world and to let the sins of the lost get under our self righteous skin. Walk in wisdom toward those that are without, redeeming the time because the days are evil.

The whole world lies in the Wicked One so let that be settled in our hearts once and for all. We can cease trying to overhaul these lost sinners from the outside in and we need to extend an urgent and compassionate message of hope and redemption. Judgment is coming and like Moses and Paul we need to intercede for these hell bound sinners that are blindly walking toward the great and eternal chasm. Our difference should be striking against the backdrop of the fleshly self serving compassion of the world. Our hearts do not even break over the fact that they are not breaking. The pain that permeates this whole accursed world should bring us to weeping and brokenness. Could we feast at a table of plenty while at our feet is a starving child? Well the entire world is starving Spiritually as we feast again and again on the life giving food that they so desperately need to live.

I have been given a comparative imagery that should drive us to the mirror of conviction and repentance. How often have we criticized congress for fighting to the extent that nothing ever gets done? The church is in a state of stagnation and we feel oh so soothed when we expose the doctrinal landside and the falling away of the church, but if it so urgent where are the all night prayer meetings? Where are the fastings called by the elders of the church? Where are the tears for the wayward sheep? We are content with “atta boys” to each other as we research other’s sins and with literary creativity expose them. But we go to sleep content nightly knowing where our children are but fully unconcerned with where others are.

I know we must teach God’s Word and openly reject the continuing diluting of the truth, but can we not see we have lost the distinctive power and fragrance that has changed the world over the centuries. Watch the Roman Catholic churches on Sunday mornings as people park their cars, walk to the auditorium, stay for an hour and a half, walk out fellowshipping, get into their cars and go out or home to eat. Same pattern every Sunday. Just like us. And it does not even concern us that even in our meetings we have become no different than other churches. I do not know what people would think if an entire congregation walked out Sunday morning weeping over the plight of the people of their own city.

If I was not a believer I would ask us this question, “Do you believe that most of the people in your city are empty and lost and on their way to an eternal place of torment?”

And we would answer with doctrinal conservatism, “Yes, we do”.

And I would then ask us, “Well how do you do it?”

We would say, "Do what?”.


And I would say, “How do you go day in and day out without shedding any tears? And how do you walk around without constantly telling people? And why isn’t your church open every night so you can pray for us? And why are you not much different than I am?”.

And after considering those penetrating questions we could answer,

“It takes a lot of practice.”

Really don’t mind if you sit this one out
My words but a whisper your deafness a shout…