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    The Joy of the Lord

The Joy of the LordJanuary 16, 2004
A naked man looked down at a leathery corpse leaning against a chain-link fence.

"The joy of the Lord is my strength, eh?" He read the words scrawled in the sun-baked mud next to the corpse out loud. "Maybe for you, my friend, but not me; I never thought of religion as anything more than a good tax write-off."

He stood in the corner of a large pen framed by a chain-link fence topped with razor-wire. There were at least a half dozen other people in the pen with him: all naked, all in various states of ill health. One woman in particular was lying in the fetal position on the ground. Her once-shapely body was now shrunken, covered in infected sores, and severely sunburned. At the far end of the pen was a gate with two guards. Over the gate was a sign which stated in large black block letters, "Deny Jesus and Live."

Boy, it was hot. He wiped his hand through his thinning hair and it came away coated with sweat. He had just arrived at the re-education camp this afternoon. He hadn’t spent more than an hour in the pen so far and his white skin was already starting to turn red in the sun. He was the only one to arrive so far today. He was sure the others had been here a lot longer.

He looked back down at the corpse. "Well, my friend, I’m glad you found religion and all, but…" He paused and looked at the gate on the far side of the pen. "I‘m leaving."

As he began walking toward the gate, a light breeze carried the smell of grilled steaks and laughter from past the gate to him.

He stopped and turned back toward the corpse. Then he looked at the other people in the pen. What are you guys thinking?

He stared at the corpse. He’s dead. All he had to do was admit that Jesus was a myth and then he would have been free from this place, maybe eating one of those steaks I can smell.

He slowly looked over the people in the pen. What about these guys? They’re going to die either from the sun or thirst or hunger! Do they know something I don’t? he wondered. Nah!

He turned back toward the gate and walked to it. One of the guards looked up from a paperback book. "What do you want?"

"Just a minute," he said to the guard.

The guard grunted and looked back down at his book.

He turned back toward the people in the pen. "What are you people thinking? Do you really think if Jesus were real he would let you suffer like this? I mean think about it, you are going to die just like that guy in the corner did. If Jesus is still alive,the son of God and your savior, then why hasn’t he delivered you from this?"

As his eyes moved from one person to the next looking for a response, each person who met his gaze either dropped their eyes or turned away without a word. He began to turn back toward the gate when he heard a faint dry rasp of a voice say, "God blesses those who don’t fall away because of Jesus." It was the woman with the sores.

What was that supposed to mean? he thought. She is in the worst shape of all of them - next to the dead guy. What does she mean by 'don’t fall away because of Jesus'?

He stared for a long moment at her, trying to find the meaning of her words in her wind-chapped, sunburned face and milky blind eyes. Finally he said, "Whatever!"

He turned back to the guard and said, "Jesus who?" The guard pulled his keys off his belt with a jingle and unlocked the gate.


article by Taylor Kent
email him about this piece at taylor@taylorkent.info


  This page last updated Oct 20, 08 • Online Giving © 2004-2009 Woodland Hills Church
 
 
 
    

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