“We must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.”
I’ve heard countless pastors wax confidently by way of analogy speaking of those who have built their houses on the sand of sin saying, “They always say the same thing, ‘I don’t know what happened, I never meant for it to get to this. I thought I was in control.'” If I’m honest, I haven’t heard this very often. Most of the time what I hear is someone trying to justifying their current state, I hear people repeating the oldest lie ever uttered to man, “did God really…?” They can’t see how far they’ve floated away from the quiet waters of the shore which have steadily became more and more tempestuous, the swallowers of the demonic lie, “everything’s okay,” do not have the acumen to see where they are but know for certain that they are just fine in their own personal journey. It breaks my heart.
The ancient serpent applies the same old tactics: he uses his minions to whisper lies into the ears of unsuspecting souls (or maybe better put, the unguarded ears of those souls) and pretty soon the poor soul stops attending church or stops reading their bible or stops mortifying their flesh. A little sin is allowed to creep into their daily routine. Drift sets in. They no longer cast aside the weight that clings so closely, rather than focusing on Jesus, this rotten world becomes their final prize. The end result is never intended, but without something (or someone) interfering with the backpedaling towards the cliff of unbelief, the poor soul has fallen to their doom.
This week I’ve had the displeasure to spot someone I used to know who is now adrift. I began recalling the other people I grew up with, worshiped with, struggled in sin with, who are now unanchored and lost. I wish I could say I only knew a few that fit this description, I also wish I could remember warning these friends at the first sight of drift; neither are the case. The same question circles my head like a buzzard over decaying flesh: Why me Lord? Why in my times of my aimless “searching” did You step in and strike me with Your rod that is the eternal truth of the Gospel? Why was I allowed to remembered that I am not God, that I can’t draw out Leviathan with a hook, that I, a mere clay pot, cannot backtalk to my Master and Former, why did You, Lord, choose to spit on the ground and make my eyes see? I have no answers, nor should I. God is sovereign and loving. His ways are above our ways. He has no counselor. He is God, the great I AM.
Still, I found myself now in a position to speak into the lives of others. How then can I protect others against a drift that leads to unbelief? What profound words could I offer up that would allow those professing saints to adhere to the only true and Living Words. I have nothing new to say, like Charles Spurgeon said, “The old hammer of the gospel will still break the rock in pieces; the ancient fire of Pentecost will still burn among the multitude.” What is the key that unlocks the secret to protect against drift? Jesus. It’s all about Jesus. Keep your eyes on The One true and steadfast anchor of our souls, then and only then will you stay near the dock of salvation. So if you find yourself laboring through these inane ramblings I type, I beg you, look at your life and try to see where you have allowed yourself to drift. Apply to your own flesh the double sided scalpel of the Word of God and violently lop off any right eye or right hand that is beckoning you to the hell of fire. Look to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith. Run, don’t walk, row with all your might to get back into the arms of the loving Father, and when you get back, be suspicious of any foul wind that would blow on your little boat, any cunning chime that would turn your ears away from the sweet, sweet sound of our Lord. Pay much closer attention. Do not allow yourself to drift.