During my senior year in college, a buddy and I drove out west in February and did some winter camping in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains. This was quite the leap for me; prior to this, I think I had only slept outside in a tent in someone’s backyard once.
Our first day in Utah, we stopped to see some of the sights in Salt Lake City. It was probably 40 degrees and overcast as we walked around and explored a little bit. Soon after, we got back in the car and headed for the park where we’d planned to set up camp.
That area is kind of funny; it was warm and pleasant (for February) in the city, but as we drove just a few miles and gained some elevation, it started snowing. This was back in the dark ages before everybody had GPS, so we weren’t as confident about our location as it’s easy to be today. The roads got smaller and snowier, and we had to drive slower to be safe.
As we passed signs confirming we were where we wanted to be, we started relaxing about being lost, but got a little intimidated by seeing white everywhere and knowing this was the environment we’d be sleeping in. We passed a little parking lot that said something about paying for a parking pass, but with all the stuff going on in our heads, we didn’t pay much attention to it, or figured we’d come back once we knew for sure we were in the right place. We got to the final parking lot before a locked gate barred any further vehicle passage, parked the car, and skied off into the forest for our winter camping adventure.
Fast forward a day or two, and we’d survived at least one frosty night in the snow. My buddy and I were back at the car in the parking lot, swapping out some gear or something. A park ranger was making the rounds in the parking lot. Seeing us, she came over with a big, bright smile, and we started chatting. The Winter Olympics were in town, which was why we had come. She wanted to hear about where we’d come from, what events we were going to see, and we swapped perspectives about some of the big news of the games so far. She was very personable, and thought what we were doing was really cool.
Eventually she took a look at the front of our car and didn’t see the parking pass that was supposed to be displayed on the dashboard. When she asked about it, we were forced to admit we hadn’t purchased one. She squinted her eyes shut and tossed her head back, as though she were saddened for us. “Oh, guys, come on!” She then performed her duty of writing us a citation, which I probably still have sitting around somewhere in the basement. I think she signed it Ranger Chen or something. She was perfectly willing to spend time being nice to us and chatting with us, but her cordiality didn’t supersede her authority and responsibility.
One of the conundrums non-Christians can fall victim to is some version of the idea that “if God’s all-knowing and knows my heart, he knows I’m a mostly good person, and even though I never ‘gave my heart to him’ or whatever, he must know that I would have if I had been presented with the choice.” I can see how that might make sense to them, but they’re looking at the picture without having all the information.
God is holiness personified. Holiness means “set apart.” He’s beholden to abide by the rules He Himself laid out. That means He can’t let unholiness exist in the glory of His presence. Someone who hasn’t accepted Christ as Savior does not have their sins blotted out, so their unholiness would be in danger of contaminating God’s holiness. Although God freely offers Christ’s righteousness to all, He can’t/won’t tolerate the unholiness of those who don’t accept it.
In His role of authority, God looks at those who don’t make the choice to follow Him and says “Guys, I love you, but you DO have to play by the rules. You ARE subject to the penalty associated with sin.” For every person who dies without accepting Christ, God hurts for their loss. I imagine He might toss His head back with eyes squinted shut, just like that park ranger, saying “Rrrrghh! Even after all the evidence I put in front of them!”
If you’re still breathing, you still have the opportunity to accept Christ as your savior. Don’t assume you’ll have time to think about it later, though. Every breath you take is a gift from the Lord, and you don’t know how many more you’ve got left. Take some time right now to consider what to do with the question of who Jesus Christ is.
