Shallow Faith

"Ben, you fool," said the man to himself, as he hiked through the jungle, "Why did you have to come on this missions trip?"

He didn't know. Nobody did. No matter how many times he thought about it, he could never come up with a straight answerer to that question, which he counted as being up there with the meaning of life. A strange set of circumstances, more than half of which he didn't know about, had suddenly set him up as the only candidate for this trip. He had not been unable to refuse the offer without losing a great deal of face, so he'd been forced to accept.

He was Ben Stront, a Christian who was often heard to boast of his righteous acts and faith. He was a supposedly proud member of the Northwest Evangelical Baptist Church, gave more to the offering than anyone else, led a small group in his house, sponsored church group retreats, and contributed to every purchase the church made. He was looked upon as the prime example of a good Christian man and father.

Those who thought of him as such, however, rarely thought a lot about his motives, under the assumption that anyone who did so much good could have any un-pure reason for it. Those few who went so far as to question him about it were met by this response; "God has given me so much that I just have to give back to Him." Nobody pressed him further on the matter. Many of them didn't want too. If giving money is all a good Christians has to do, they thought, than I'm a great Christian.

Because realistically that is all he did. His so called "small group" was actually something more of a country club. If you'd mentioned his faith to his neighbors and coworkers, they would have said, "Ben, a church goer? Ha! Who knew?" He and his wife, Cheryl, rarely prayed or read their Bibles, except when their son, Jacob, wanted them to read to him about Moses or Gideon or Samson.

But somehow, despite everything, or perhaps because of it, here he was on this missions trip, in the middle of a dark, damp, dank jungle, somewhere in the vast expanses of Brazil, where plumbing meant holes in the ground, electricity was nonexistent, and the hundreds of dollars he'd brought was only so much paper to burn.

He and the rest of the missions teams spent almost a week hiking through the jungle, where the trees would not permit motor vehicles, and runways, landing strips, and helicopter pads were legends of a far away place. The primitive setting and uselessness of his money served too quickly dry up his already shallow faith, which had only been as deep as his wallet, and that was as good as empty. As his Christianity was sucked drier and drier, he conveniently made his bathroom breaks, which somehow lasted a great deal longer than typically necessary, during prayer and Bible Study meetings. If he talked to God at all, it was too rant and rave at Him.

In stark contrast to his pathetic spiritual condition, his companions were more content than they'd ever been before in their lives. They complained occasionally about the food, shelter, or intensely humid climate, but overall they were very much at peace. While Ben screamed in frustration, they quietly thanked God for his protection from snakes and other dangerous animals, as well as for their chance to serve him. A baffled Ben could only shake his head in confusion and sneer, say "fools, what on Earth do they have to be thankful for."

Eventually they arrived at their destination, a larger than average, though still small, village, where they were to help improve the local living conditions, teach from Gods word, and do whatever else they could to be Jesus hands and feet in that place. Missionaries had been through the village before, so nearly everyone had heard and accepted the Good News of the Gospel. It is perhaps due to that detail that everyone there was as content, if not more, as the missionaries, despite their living conditions, which to Ben were barbaric. Again to cover for his confusion and curiosity, he scowled at what he called their foolishness, though it was really their wisdom that brought it about. Ben therefore spent as little time as he could in the village, and hid in the jungle he had grown to hate, which hardly improved his mood, only coming out for mealtimes.

One night, five days after his arrival at the village, Ben came to eat with everyone else at the bonfire at the center of the village. After he received his stew, he took a seat far removed from everyone else. But even so, one of the locals came to sit with him. Ben recognized him as the village minister, and one of very few in the village who could speak English.

"Are you upset about something?" he asked. "You avoid everyone, and are always angry."

Ben suddenly decided to let all his anger out. "What do I have to be upset about?" he said sarcastically. "I'm in this barbaric place where my money is useless, comfort is unheard of, and I'm surrounded by fools who are thankful for it!" He lowered his head, and then, barley audible, hissed, between clenched teeth, four words the chilled the preacher down to the deepest depths of his soul. "God has deserted me!"

The minister was silent for a moment. Then he asked a simple question that pushed all of Ben's falsehoods into the light of truth. "What makes you think Gad has deserted you?"

Ben fumbled for an answer, and then asked, "Didn't you hear anything I just said?"

"I heard you," said the minister, "but your situation is considerably better than that of everyone in this village." He waited a moment. When Ben didn't say anything, he continued. "Besides, the Bible says that God will never abandon us, and that he will always be with us."

"No it doesn't," Ben snapped quickly.

"Yes it does," said the preacher. He took an English Bible from his pocket, flipped through it for a moment, and then pointed to a verse and read it aloud. "'And I will be with you always, to the very end of the age.'" He closed the Bible again and said "What makes you think that God is about to break that promise now?"

Ben was silent for a moment, and then he said, "Well, then, well, how do explain everything that's been happening me?"

The minister smiled. "I've already told you, it's not as bad as you think. But here�" he opened his Bible again, looked through it for a moment, and then read "'Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking in anything.'" He set the Bible down. He stared into Ben's eyes. "Do you think that maybe God's been testing you?"

"Maybe," said Ben, thinking for a moment. "But why are you so thankful for everything in such horrific circumstances?"

"The Bible also says that Gods grace is sufficient for us," said the preacher, smiling in anticipation.

"His grace is sufficient," said Ben, pondering the statement. "That explains it." Overcome, he put his head in his hands for a moment, crying softly. After a few minutes, he said, "I don't think I have that grace."

The preacher smiled, clasped the others hands and said, "Let's pray�."

How does this story end? Many ways. Stories like this occur often, between church goers like Ben and ministers like the one in the tale above. Bens name could easily have been your name, and the minister could just as easily have been one of many pastors, evangelists, deacons, priests, missionaries, and Average Joe Christians in the world. His story may very easily be yours.