Into The Hand of God

"Brother, what is this about?" asked the young worker who stepped out of the eatery where he was working to personally ask for a tract. "It's about the day of your sure death," I said. He answered, "I am a Christian. I attend the church at PTT." His voice was on the "soft" side, but I didn't question his profession. "Then make sure to cling to Christ at all cost." He said he will, and thanked me. I crossed the street to where my daughter was about to read the scriptures to the crowd. This is an Islamic area of the town. The place where we stood last Thursday was also an Islamic population. I can see a trailing pattern: the LORD has sheep in the Muslim community. And this, along with a burden in my heart that has been there for so long : to take the gospel to the Muslims under Quiapo, Manila - (and testify against religion at Quiapo church), is a seed that is steadily growing in me, howbeit, slowly. For now we are here. 

The crowd was a mixture of sorts. The ones who were dressed above the usual class, these who do not usually take our tracts even when we are handing it to them, now after passing us turn back to ask for one. People easily received our offer. Most asked. Before we knew it, our tracts were gone. The reading of scripture broke up the fallow ground, and the gospel, which I did not plan to preach, was sown liberally. Gently. Authoritatively. Powerfully. 

People put their phones down. They sat on stairs. They stared. They stopped calling out to passersby to buy their wares. They parked on the side. They stopped walking. As far as the providence of God carried my voice people listened as I pleaded for their souls. The cover of sin was violently stripped off of them, and the law revealed the guilt of conscience. Brows were raised. Smirking.  Shaking heads. Jesting their friends when humiliating sins were mentioned. The law spared no sin untouched. Not targeting the symptoms of sin, but the people's hatred of the holiness of God. People will acknowledge God, His goodness and kindness, but not His holiness. When I cried, "Jesus said I am the way, the truth, and the life. There is no hope in religion, in Muhammad or in Islam," there was only silence. But a singular thought burned fiercely between my eyes: "Speak. Do not be afraid."

The picture of a church that passionately affirms 'Amen!' on Sundays, constantly hears about the command to share the gospel, constantly hears about being the salt and light of the earth, constantly hears about the great commission - with little obedience to it, is pathetic. One, it is fearful. It is the servant who hid the talent entrusted to him. Two, it is unbelieving. It is the son who said, 'I will', but did not go. It acknowledges it is fearful, and clings to it. It embraces it. It believes God, but it does not believe in God. 

Acts 11:19-21 Now they which were scattered abroad upon the persecution that arose about Stephen travelled as far as Phenice, and Cyprus, and Antioch, preaching the word to none but unto the Jews only. And some of them were men of Cyprus and Cyrene, which, when they were come to Antioch, spake unto the Grecians, preaching the Lord Jesus. And the hand of the Lord was with them: and a great number believed, and turned unto the Lord.

Too much of instruction, too little obedience. Too much of programs, too little prostration before God. Too much organizing, little or no agonizing. Too much happiness, little or no mourning for sin. Too much affirmation of God's blessing, little or no brokenness for God's name blasphemed. As one puritan properly puts it : Everything around us, people, marriages, families, is broken. Everything, except the church. 

We do not need more preachers who obey because they were told this is what they should be doing as Christians. We need preachers who know their God well enough for Him to be their sole zealous passion. Preachers who love God and love men. Preachers who couldn't care less about themselves. Preachers who recognize the urgency, who see the need, and who have no time to play church. Preachers who will not wait for the timid to obey. Preachers who will go out alone, with God. Preachers who are broken, who take the wheel from the apprehensive, who are accountable to God for each day lost, who redeems the short time remaining. Preachers who are looking beyond this world into eternity, who are afraid to stand before God with nothing. 

I can remember four instances when God opened my mouth freely to let the waters of convictions and judgements out. I have no documentation or recordings of them, but God has. This day was one of them.