The Evidence of Changed Lives – The Case Against Human Nature

A Pocket Paper
from
The Donelson Fellowship
______________

Robert J. Morgan
January 11, 2004 P.M.

 


In our study of Christian evidences, tonight I’d like to present the case for Christianity in very practical terms.  In other words, there is a pragmatic test.  There is a great question:  Does it work?  If Christianity is true, don’t you think it ought to make a difference in the lives of those who profess it?  Don’t you think it should make bad people good, and good people better?  The great apologist, Bernard Ramm, said:  Christianity “must not only provide us with the materials of a great philosophy, a great theology.  It must have a relevancy or tangency to human experience.” 

 

This is the presentation of the Gospel that most influences people.  They may not engage us in philosophical debates or theological discussions.  But Peter said that they’ll see our joy, and when they see the hope within us, they’ll ask a reason.  And we should always be ready to give a reason for the hope that is within us.  It’s one of our greatest weapons, one of the greatest apologetics.

 

I heard one man put it like this:  If your car broke down late at night in a rough neighborhood and you saw a dozen rough and rugged men approaching you, would it make any difference to you if there were just coming out of a Bible study?

 

I’d like to discuss this in three phases. 

 

The Justification Change

            First, there is a change that takes place at justification, when we turn our lives over to Jesus Christ.  “If any man be in Christ,” says 2 Corinthians 5:17, “he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.”

            Several years ago, I was speaking in San Francisco.  My host took me out for lunch from the airport, and he pulled out an old photo.  “Do you know this man?” he asked.  The man in the photo was an old, ragged, dirty, flea-bitten man.  “No,” I said.  “He doesn’t look familiar to me.”  “That’s me,” said the man, smiling.  “That’s my ‘before’ picture.  That’s what I was like before I met Christ.”

            Have you noticed that whenever the apostle Paul wanted to demonstrate the power of God as exercised through the Gospel, he simply gave his own testimony?  He told what he had done for him.  He was the first century’s greatest opponent of the Christian faith.  Saul of Tarsus spearheaded the persecution against the early church, determined to extinguish the flame of Christ before it could spread.  He later told King Agrippa his story:

 

The Jews all know the way I have lived ever since I was a child, from the beginning of my life in my own country, and also in Jerusalem.  They had known me for a long time and can testify, if they are willing, that according to the strictest sect of our religion, I lived as  Pharisee.  I too was convinced that I ought to do all that was possible to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth.  And that is just what I did in Jerusalem.  On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the saints in prison, and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them.  Many a time I went from one synagogue to another to have them punished, and I tried to force them to blaspheme.  In my obsession against them, I even went to foreign cities to persecute them.  On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests.  About noon, O king, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions.  We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, “Saul, Saul, what do you persecute me?  It is hard for you to kick against the goads....  Now get up and stand on your feet.  I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen of me and what I will show you.  I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles.  I am sending you to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me” (Acts 26:4-18).

 

            How can you explain the fact that the greatest destroyer of Christianity became its greatest defender?  How can you explain his metamorphosis, as he gladly endured a lifetime of shame, suffering, and the executioner’s sword to spread the faith he had once labored to despoil? 

            The mind of Saul of Tarsus was brilliant.  His training was superb.  His passion was unquenchable.  His background and heritage flowed with the Jewish blood of a hundred generations.  Yet in one moment he was transformed from the greatest enemy the early church ever faced into the greatest missionary the world has ever known.

            What power could so change a life?  The Gospel!  And the Gospel’s chain of witnesses from the days of Saul of Tarsus to our own is unbroken, and it grows stronger still.  We could tell stories from every generation of the Christian era.  But I would like to skip from Paul’s day to our own times, looking at stories of people whose lives have been transformed by the sheer force of Jesus Christ through nothing more than their eyes falling upon the powerful pages of Scripture.  Perhaps the purest testimonies are of those who are changed—not by persuasive personalities or spell-binding oratory or magnetic appeals—but by merely reading the Word of God itself, finding in it the voltage and veracity necessary to meet the deepest needs of their lives.

            Some time ago, I read a remarkable story about a man named is Gary Fossen.

            Gary grew up with an outwardly happy childhood, playing Little League ball, camping, fishing with his family.  They lived in the suburbs and had everything money could buy.  But under Gary’s skin, the blood ran dark and devious.  During his college years, he took a shotgun and killed the only three people who had ever loved him:  his parents and sister.

            He was arrested, convicted, and sent to prison.  He felt no remorse and described himself as an animal.  One day a clergyman came to his prison and started talking about Jesus Christ.  Gary cursed him and told him that if he got any closer to the bars that separated them, he would kill him.  To his surprise, the preacher kept returning.  But Gary only cursed him at every opportunity.  One day the minister gave Gary a small Gideon New Testament.  Gary took the book, spat on it, threw it on the floor, and kicked it across the room and under his bunk.

            Sometime later, Gary Fossen grew unbelievably lonely and decided to kill himself.  A former paramedic in a nearby cell told him how to cut himself with razor blades so that he would bleed freely and die quickly.  They smuggled in a razor, and Gary waited for the lights to go out.  He thought about writing a suicide note, but he realized no one would be interested.  He had no one to mourn his death.

            Then he remembered the little book under his bunk.  He thought perhaps he should at least read a verse of Scripture before killing himself.  He turned to Romans and started reading chapter 6.  He went on to Romans 7 and 8.  He said, “I had never read the Bible before and the words started burning inside of me.”  He knelt by his bunk and began trying to pray.  He asked God to show him how to be sorry because he still had no remorse.  “That night, I saw a slow-motion movie of my life,” he later said.  “I saw every wicked thing I had ever done and I began to write them all down.  The list went on for page and page and I wept over each one.  I had not cried at all after the murders, but here I was in my cell crying.”

            That night forever changed Gary Fossen.  “I was still in prison, but it didn’t matter.  That was the end of the pain and loneliness.  I would never be alone again.  I am still in prison, but I thank God for His Word that is so powerful that it cut into the deep calluses of my heart and seared through all the layers of hate.”

            Now, ask yourself—can Shakespeare have such an effect?  Can Homer or Milton?  Or, for that matter, can the writings of Darwin?  No.  Charles Darwin once wrote a letter to a Christian minister named J. W. Fegan who had conducted a preaching crusade in a village in England.  As a result of Fegan’s campaign, the alcoholics were converted and the bars closed down.  Darwin wrote to Fegan saying, “We (the evolutionists) have never been able to reclaim a drunkard, but through your services I do not know that there is a drunkard left in the village.”

 

The Sanctification Change

            Now there is a second kind of change I’d like to mention, and that’s the change brought about by sanctification, or by Christian growth.  When we come to Christ our lives are changed.  There’s no doubt about that.  But we are by no means perfect.  And so here we come to church, and we’re all forgiven but imperfect sinners.  And so we become a forgiven but imperfect church. 

            One of the greatest excuses people use for not coming to church is that it’s full of hypocrites.  When someone says that to me, I say, “Yes, absolutely it is.  Do you think Christians are perfect people?  Don’t you realize that in every congregation there are those of varying levels of maturity.  We have some very mature Christians in our church, and we have some immature ones.  We have some weak ones, and we have some strong ones.  And all of us are—to some degree—hypocritical, because we don’t always do what we know we should do.  Every member of my church occasionally fails.  And I’m the biggest hypocrite of all.  I’ve studied the Bible all my life and I still fall short.  Sometimes I’m selfish; sometimes I lose my temper; sometimes I think a wrong thought; sometimes I say an unkind word; sometimes I’m proud and difficult.  I serve a perfect God and study a perfect Book, but I’m not a perfect person.  There are areas in which I know to do better than I do.  I’m a hypocrite.  And if you’re letting that excuse keep you out of church, then you’d just as well die and got to hell right now, because the church in this world is always going to be full of imperfect people.”

            But Christ is perfecting us.  He is growing us.  2 Corinthians 3:18 says, “And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

            We had a man working for us at our house this week, and presently he said how he and his wife had prayed about something.  I said, “So are you a Christian?” 

He replied, “Oh, yes.  I’ve been a Christian for a long time, but I had a lot of baggage I hadn’t dealt with from high school.  I’d held some things against some people and I had developed a hatred for some of my old buddies.  I was a Christian, but I was a very bitter man.  Then I went to the Billy Graham Crusade here in Nashville in 2000.  I was even a counselor.  But when the invitation was given, I realized that I needed to get serious about my own Christian life before I could help someone else.  And I realized I had to forgive some people and deal with some bitterness, and I rededicated myself to Christ.  And that has made all the difference.”

 

The Glorification Difference

            Finally there is the glorification difference.  One day we will be perfect.  Look at 2 Corinthians 5:  “Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven not built by human hands.  Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked.  For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.  Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.”

            This isn’t an apologetic, of course.  We can’t use this as a defense of the faith, because it’s something reserved for heaven; but it’s part of the picture.  When we are justified, we are saved from the penalty of sin.  As we are being sanctified, we’re being saved from the power of sin.  When we are glorified, we will be saved from the very presence of sin.  And this three-fold salvation makes us into different people, and that difference is a very powerful presentation of the Gospel.

            There once was a powerful British preacher named Hugh Price Hughes.  One day, the infidel and notorious freethinker, Charles Bradlaugh, challenged Hughes to a debate.  Hughes accepted with a counterchallenge:  “I’ll bring one hundred whose lives have been changed by the Gospel; you bring one hundred whose lives have been changed through your testimony.  Bradlaugh never showed up, and Hughes turned the occasion into a great testimony meeting.

            Let me end with one question.  When people look at your life, do they see the evidence of the transforming power of Christ?  There’s an old poem that says:

 

You are writing a gospel, a chapter each day,

By the deeds that you do, by the words that you say;

Men read what you write, whether faithless or true.

Say—what is the gospel according to you?


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