Almost Persuaded

Four years ago, I was inspired to write an article because of one sentence a student said to me in one of my English classes. It was around Christmas, and we were talking about many of the myths surrounding the season: Santa Claus making a list and checking it twice, elves making toys way up at the North Pole, Santa delivering those toys to every home in the world on Christmas Eve in a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer, leaving the requisite milk and cookies on the kitchen table, etc.

At one point, a young woman in the class remarked that it seemed as if everything about Christmas was fake, and I laughingly agreed that, yeah, all the myths and legends surrounding Christmas were primarily just fun for kids. Then she turned her head and muttered:

Maybe Jesus is fake, too.

In a flash, it suddenly occurred to me why Satan has devoted so much time and effort to cultivating such a beloved holiday, and why he has carefully crafted the fanciful narrative that lies behind it. The result was an article entitled "The Reason for the Season?"

Well, it happened again—and it was the same student. (Background note: Since that first incident four years ago, I have learned that she was once briefly associated with a local church in Taiwan, but now bitterly rejects everything about Christianity.)

In a class just recently, we were discussing situations where someone had lied to you about something, and she happened to be in attendance. When it came her turn to respond, she regaled the class with the tawdry tale of how she had been friends with a woman in a church in the Taipei area and how that woman had deceptively tried to "set her up" with the church's minister, if you catch my drift. Although she got out of the situation physically unharmed, it goes without saying that her fledgling interest in Christianity was bludgeoned to death. The sordid story reeked of the lies, betrayal, and sleazy lifestyles of professing Christians who apparently had no misgivings about such behavior.

My heart ached and my spirit recoiled as she recounted her story, and I struggled to respond in a way that was both appropriate and professional. I don't always have the liberty to say some of the things my spiritual man wants to say, because it's an English class—I get paid to teach, not preach, and there are times when I have to bite my tongue and remember that. At first, all I could muster was...

"Well, God is good, but people aren't."

Technically true, but totally lame. And I say this before God: The Holy Spirit reared back and kicked me in the shins so hard I almost crumpled to the floor. I knew I couldn't leave it at that, and I did my best to let the Spirit have His way, classroom boundaries or no classroom boundaries.

I reminded her that there are many people who outwardly name the name of Christ and call themselves Christians, but still do some very bad things. So, we cannot and should not blame a good God for the bad actions of people who say they believe in Him and claim they believe the gospel. I told her that the gospel message just doesn't quite get through to many people—people who know how to talk like Christians but really aren't. And clearly those are the kind of so-called "Christians" she got tangled up with. I told her that it's certainly true that no Christian is perfect, and that we all still sin sometimes after we believe the gospel and are saved because we all still have a sin nature...it doesn't just disappear. But the Holy Spirit keeps making us feel bad about it when we sin, because that's part of His job. But what these people did to her was beyond inexcusable. These were genuinely wicked people who deserved to be punished—and they almost certainly were never truly born of the Spirit and were not really Christians.

After class, it didn't take the Holy Spirit very long to find a vein.

He drove home to me the point that there are legions of people in the world today who talk and act like Christians, but are not born again. In many cases they not only don't believe the gospel of Jesus Christ, but don't even possess a reasonable approximation of an understanding of it. For example, here are a few questions I have seen on the Internet from people who are apparently under the false impression they are Christians:

• Do you believe that born-again Christians are less sinful than Christians who are not born again?

• I'm confused. I don't believe the Old Testament, and I only think five of the original 10 Commandments are correct. Am I still a Christian or not?

• As a Christian, I sometimes doubt the existence of God and consider becoming an atheist. But I fear if I'm wrong I'll go to hell. What should I do?

• I follow Christianity and believe in Jesus, but I also believe in Lord Krishna and I'm well aware of the history related to him. Is this OK?

• I was born a Christian, but I fear I am going to hell after breaking most of the 10 Commandments. What can I do?

Multiply these five by multiple millions (and throw in Lady Gaga while you're at it), and you'll have some idea of where we're at today. I'm sure most are good people—I don't doubt that they are sincere and have good intentions (with the possible exception of Lady Gaga). But the inescapable truth is that all of these people share one heartbreaking thing in common:

They all somehow believe they are Christians, yet it's clear that they couldn't give you a coherent, biblically sound explanation of the gospel and what it actually means to be a Christian according to the Word of God if their lives depended on it, and the reason is painfully obvious: They don't have the first clue.

Now, in spite of how absurd some of the above questions sound to any biblically literate believer, I'm not suggesting these people are stupid—I'm sure they're not. I have to assume most such people have simply never had the gospel presented to them in a clear, accurate manner (Lady Gaga attended a private, all-girl Roman Catholic school in Manhattan, so I'm guessing no). So, all one can do is pray that these people will at some point have the gospel preached to them straight and true so the Holy Spirit can help them see where they have missed it, and they can come to a place of repentance that leads to salvation.

But these people aren't the topic of this article. There is a different group of people out there hiding in the underbrush of the Church that, like many in the above-mentioned group, know how to pass themselves off as Christians and in most cases sincerely believe they are. If asked point blank if they are followers of the Christian faith, most would be quick to respond in the affirmative.

Just like the first group, however, they are not real, biblical Christians—but there is a significant difference. Unlike the first group, who genuinely don't have an accurate understanding of the gospel to begin with, these people do understand the gospel. They know the deal. They have heard the gospel preached—often many times, and in some cases could explain it as well as many preachers.

But they never let it penetrate their hearts.

They never let it in. They understand it, but remain spiritually unchanged. Perhaps they've heard the gospel so many times that they're comfortable with it. It's familiar—they know the drill. But the Holy Spirit has never been able to drill down into their spirit and bring them to a place of repentance—a place where they recognize their sinfulness before God and their utter inability to remedy the situation in any way. Thus they have never come to the place where they have reached out in faith to a loving God and trusted completely in His grace and mercy and in the atonement Christ accomplished for them at Calvary for the forgiveness of sin.

They get it, but down deep where it counts they reject it.

Church can become a comforting social institution, and their attendance is a testament to the fact that they are good, morally upright people. It's an important part of their social lives. Yet they are never spiritually regenerated by the power of the Holy Spirit.

And churches the world over have pew after pew filled with such people.

Not to mention pulpits.

Why are we still here? By the way, I believe this is one reason it will be so easy for people to believe Satan's New Age explanation for the Rapture: Many churches will be minimally affected by it. Multiple millions of good, church-going "Christians" of every denominational persuasion will be left behind because they are unsaved, not to put too fine a point on it. Thus, the idea that this event was the rapture of the Church will seem preposterous to them, and the argument will go something like this: "If the event that just occurred was this so-called 'rapture of the Church' thing, then why are there so many of us good, church-going people still here, huh? Answer me that." And Satan's staffers will be standing by with plausible, reassuring answers.

These are people who have heard and understand the gospel, and in many cases perhaps really were "almost persuaded," as the line from the old hymn goes. These are the people I want to discuss, because the Bible has some important things to tell us in regard to them.

Almost persuaded?

As I'm sure many of you know, the title of the song "Almost Persuaded" comes from a scene in the book of Acts, where Paul is giving his defense before King Herod Agrippa II.

Paul had been under arrest by the Jews (who were plotting to murder him), and he had an audience before Governor Festus in Cesarea. Festus found no fault with Paul, and was going to send him back to the Pharisees in Jerusalem when Paul abruptly appealed to Rome, since he was in fact a Roman citizen. Festus had little choice but to comply and send Paul off to Rome, but he had to write a letter in support of his actions to accompany Paul. That posed a bit of a problem for Festus, however, because by his own admission he had found Paul innocent of anything of substance. Festus had to write something, and when King Agrippa paid him a visit in Cesarea and expressed an interest in hearing Paul (no doubt out of sheer fleshly curiosity), Festus saw his chance, thinking something like...

"That's it...I'll turn Paul loose and let him open his big mouth in front of the king, and hopefully he'll say something crazy that I can use to dummy up a decent-sounding charge. I'll give him enough rope to hang himself, and I'll be off the hook. Perfect!"

But Paul was no dummy—he knew Agrippa (a Jew appointed by Rome) believed the prophets and was familiar with their message, and finally Paul takes it right to him with an evangelistic appeal:

Agrippa's enigmatic response has been translated a variety of ways, but most Bible scholars agree that he was not really "almost persuaded" to believe the gospel and be saved. He was probably being dismissive and sardonic, and many commentators agree that his response could be more accurately rendered along the following lines:

"Seriously? Do you really think that in such a short time you can persuade me to be one of those 'Christians'? Get real, Paul."

Now, King Agrippa was no doubt a reasonably intelligent man, and probably had an intellectual understanding of what Paul was saying. After all, Paul had just preached one whale of a sermon and could scarcely have made the truth of the gospel any clearer, especially to a Jew.

In reality, perhaps we'll never know for absolute certain to what degree—if indeed any at all—that Agrippa was "almost persuaded" to truly believe the gospel in faith, but the bottom line is clear:

He heard it. He understood it. And he rejected it.

The point I want to bring out is the fact that the Bible has some very sobering things to say about such people, who come face to face with the gospel, hear it, understand it, and ultimately reject it.

Spoiler alert: You do not want to be one of them.

What's behind Door #1?

When people hear and understand the gospel, there are only two possible responses. At the end of the day, they either choose Door #1 or Door #2:

Door #1: Believe unto salvation.
Door #2: Reject unto damnation.

When people choose Door #2 by hearing and understanding the gospel but then rejecting it or apostasizing from a superficial embrace of it, you might say they are guilty of spiritual defection. They know the truth, but at some point they deliberately reject it. They understand the offer, but ultimately get up and walk away from the table. They taste it, but ultimately spit it out. This can occur for a variety of reasons.

For example, it could be due to the persecution they believe it will bring upon them. When there is a price to be paid for believing the gospel (and Americans should understand that there is a steep price to be paid in many parts of the world), some will fall away and turn back instead of believing in faith and being saved. They may inwardly acknowledge that the gospel is true, but they don't want to pay the price.

It's also possible their minds have been poisoned by false doctrine, and the simplicity of the gospel gets mangled in the gears of unscriptural ideas they have been exposed to. Satan has crept in with other appealing ideas that lure them away from the truth and they leave off with the gospel message, never to return. A person can reach the point where they intellectually affirm the truth of the gospel, but then what happens?

In some cases, it's just the plain old love of sin. No surprise there. It's amazing how often people perceive going all in for the gospel as being tantamount to signing up for a bristling array of dos and don'ts—they balk at what they perceive as a laundry list of fun, popular activities that will henceforth and forevermore be verboten. Becoming a Christian is equivalent to joining Killjoys Anonymous. Those temptations are just too enticing, and the thought of all the fun they think they will be missing pulls them back from a true conversion. Their exposure to the gospel hits the rocks:

What they don't realize, of course, is that the power of the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit makes you a new creature in Christ:

When we are born of the Spirit, even though we still fall at times (and all too frequently), the appeal of sin just ain't what it used to be. Although our flesh continues to war with our spirit, sin's overpowering dominance over our lives has been broken. The Holy Spirit hates sin, and as long as we allow Him to remain in the driver's seat where He belongs, so will we. Tragically, these people never get to the point where they experience that firsthand—they turn back at the first sign of what they see as a list of thou-shalt-nots.

In the Old Testament, God made it crystal clear to the people of Israel how He felt about spiritual defection, or any species of turning away from the law He had given them and going off to serve other gods and inducing others to do the same. He left no doubt in their minds that it wouldn't be tolerated and was punishable by death. He first spells it out in the corporate case, and lays out what's to be done if a whole city turns from the Law of Moses:

OK? The inhabitants of that city were to be slain and the entire city and everything in it was to be utterly destroyed, and it was never to be rebuilt. That's the corporate scenario—a few chapters later, it gets personal:

Now we're dealing with individuals. Anyone who worshiped anything but the one true God was to be taken out and stoned after a thorough investigation and on the testimony of two or three witnesses.

But whether corporate or personal, both cases deal with people who knew the truth. They weren't strangers to the Law of Moses—they understood it and knew its specifications and requirements. They had witnessed God's miraculous power operating on behalf of His people, and yet they turned away from Him and chased after false gods of wood, metal, and stone. They "worked wickedness" in the sight of a holy God and transgressed His covenant, and we see from His Word that God took that very seriously.

Now, I can just hear some people out there, thinking something along the following lines:

Yeah, but slaying a whole city full of people and burning it to the ground, and taking people out and stoning them...that's just heavy-duty Old Testament jazz, right? That's just good old-fashioned wrath-o'-God stuff. That's not for today—we're in the Age of Grace now.

Right you are. We're not in the Old Testament anymore. We're not subject to a lot of the good old-fashioned wrath-o'-God stuff. But what I want to impress upon you is the fact that God takes spiritual defection today even more seriously than He did in the Old Testament. Why? Simple:

They only had the shadow—we have the reality.

In the Old Testament, the Jews only had the promise of a future Messiah who would remove their sin. Now, don't misunderstand me—that right there is a big deal. God's promises are always a big deal because God is faithful and His Word doesn't return to Him void. But still, they only had the shadow of good things to come. They only had the promise.

But after Christ came into the world and was crucified and resurrected in fulfillment of God's promises, everything changed. God gave us His best—He expressed His grace and mercy to sinful men in the form of His Son, the Messiah prophesied throughout His Word, and ever since that time it's been a whole new ballgame. Ever since then, we've had the reality of Christ and Him crucified for the forgiveness of sin.

Shadow has become substance.
Promise has become reality.

In the book of Hebrews, the writer is talking primarily to Jewish believers (not to mention a few who were "almost persuaded"). Now, before we go any further, let's stop and consider the historical context for a moment.

Up to that time, the Jews had been following the Law of Moses for roughly 1,500 years. They had scarcely ever known anything but the Law of Moses—a burdensome morass of rules, restrictions, and sacrifices for everything under the sun, and they believed following it meticulously made them righteous. For many centuries they had been taught and believed that righteousness was obtained through obedience to the law—it was as deeply ingrained in them as anything has ever been ingrained in any group of people anywhere. The Law of Moses was their life, their culture, their everything.

And it was external, physical, and written on hearts of stone.

But when their promised Messiah finally came along, He turned their legalistic world on its head with radical new teaching they had never heard:

Whatever they believed, they knew one thing for certain:

There was a new sheriff in town.

But when Christ was crucified and resurrected and established the New Covenant with His blood, the Law of Moses was cast in an entirely different light from what the Jews had understood for 1,500 years. Righteousness no longer came via the law in an indirect manner that was based on the work of a yet future Messiah. Now it was through faith in Christ alone.

Now it was internal, spiritual, and written on hearts of flesh.

Since the Messiah had come, the law had served its purpose and those with faith in Christ were no longer subject to it. As Paul explains to the Galatians:

Ever since the first century this is essentially all the Church has known—believe the gospel; repent and be saved; have faith in Christ. For the last two thousand years, it's been faith in Christ, faith in Christ, faith in Christ. Law? What law? From the Church's perspective, the Law of Moses may as well be the Magna Carta—it's ancient history we've had precious little contact with.

But things were quite different for the intended audience of the book of Hebrews, to say the least. These were Jews who lived during the transition from the Old to the New Covenant. All I'm trying to get you to see is how difficult it must have been for many first-century Jews to hear and understand the gospel and the fact that Jesus was their Messiah, and then make a clean break from the idea that righteousness was through obedience to the Law of Moses. Yes, they believed Jesus was the Messiah, but they were being asked to flush 1,500 years of tradition down the tubes. They had to just up and walk away from something that had been central to their lives and their cultural (and spiritual) identity since the days of Moses, and many believers today fail to grasp how hard that must have been.

For first-century Jews, becoming a born-again believer in the gospel of Jesus Christ was radical—and in most cases, it cost them dearly.

Although many Jews in the first century obviously did come to genuine faith in Christ, there were those who came to an understanding of the gospel and who got caught up in it to some degree, only to get ensnared in this powerful web of culture and tradition and draw back (often with a little help from the Judaizers), which is perfectly understandable when you consider the historical context. That's one of the reasons the book of Hebrews was written in the first place—to help such Jews push through the cultural barrier that held them back from fully trusting in Christ for their salvation and free themselves from their deeply ingrained adherence to the Law of Moses, and resist the efforts of those who would pressure them to return to it.

The first nine chapters of Hebrews present Christ as superior to anything the Law of Moses and the Old Covenant had to offer: He is preeminent over the angels (1:6); He is preeminent over Moses (3:3); He is preeminent over the Old Testament priesthood (5:10). The writer explains that the New Covenant is superior to the Old because Christ's perfect sacrifice rendered the continuing Levitical sacrifices of the Old Covenant obsolete (8:6–13).

In chapter 10, the writer stresses the perfect, once-for-all sacrifice of Christ—the very essence of the gospel. Then, starting in verse 19, he describes the fundamental effects of salvation through faith in Christ, and is basically describing the Door #1 response to the gospel:

Although the writer is primarily addressing Jews who were truly born again, at the same time he is also pleading with Jews who have heard the gospel and know that it is true, but are struggling to escape from the gravitational pull of Planet Judaism—a struggle that was either a matter of their own Jewish conscience or more likely due to pressure from the Judaizers who sought to bring them back under the Law of Moses.

In summary, in verses 19–25 he is telling them:

The way is open—access to God is available through Christ. The veil has been removed. Come with a true, sincere heart—a heart that has been convicted and that genuinely seeks forgiveness and righteousness. Come with a fully assured faith, and be washed on the inside—let God cleanse your conscience. Not only that, but be washed on the outside by having your sins removed, and persevere in the faith and enter into the fellowship of God's people.

That's what's behind Door #1, and the key is in verse 22—it's an invitation:

Draw near.

Come to God—the way is open. What are you waiting for? Come to Him. Draw near. In other words:

You've got to choose Door #1.

Nobody can choose it for you. Nobody is going to open Door #1 and give you a swift kick in the pants. You've got to draw near to God, and in the manner prescribed: (a) with a sincere heart—one under conviction, sick of sin, and seeking the forgiveness and righteousness that Christ offers, and (b) with a confident and fully assured faith that He is faithful and willing to grant that forgiveness and righteousness.

OK, so much for Door #1.

What's behind Door #2?

Remember what we saw in Deuteronomy, about a city or an individual that turned away from the Law of Moses and worshiped false gods? Well, the intended audience of the book of Hebrews was well aware of this. They knew what the Old Testament said about such spiritual defection, but the writer sees fit to remind them anyway:

First, Paul points out that if a person goes on sinning "willfully" after he knows the truth (knowledge, not regeneration), there's no more sacrifice for sin. That's it...that's all she wrote. That's God's offer—take it or leave it. And if you leave it, your fate is sealed.

Note that the phrase "sin willfully" in verse 26 speaks of an unbroken pattern of sin—not the occasional failings we all continue to experience as long as we live in a body of flesh.

Now, I realize there are good men who love God and His Word who interpret this verse to mean that a Christian can actually lose or abandon His salvation, but I beg to differ. Our sin, such as it is, is not an unbroken pattern of behavior. It is broken by periods of righteousness and spiritual growth thanks to the fact that we are sealed by the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, who cannot be pried loose from us by any power in heaven or on earth, much less the occasional failures of our flesh. The Bible makes it crystal clear that every believer still sins, but the periods of righteousness and spiritual growth that every born-again believer experiences that break that pattern are alien to the unregenerate, no matter to what extent those people may intellectually toy with the idea of fully embracing the saving, life-changing power of the gospel of salvation through faith in Christ.

Barnes' Notes elaborates on the use of the phrase "sin willfully":

Similarly, John Gill writes:

Yes, the writer of the book of Hebrews is speaking of full-bent apostasy, and apostasy is every bit as bad as it sounds. But understand one thing, and understand it clearly:

Apostasy is not the loss of salvation.
It is the evidence of past pretension.

Those who understand and yet reject the gospel—those who had a pretense of belief—have no other sacrifice for sin. That's it, and what awaits them is "a certain fearful expectation of judgment, and a fierceness of fire which will devour the adversaries."

And in the very next verse he brings them face to face with a cold, hard, sobering truth:

How much worse punishment... In other words:

If you think defecting from the Law of Moses torqued God off, how do you think He's going to feel if you clearly understand that He sacrificed the life of His Son so you could be saved and you ultimately reject that?

For those who hear and clearly understand the gospel, and ultimately reject it and walk away from it on their own accord, I have only one thing to say:

Stand by.

It's personal

So, a person hears the gospel and clearly understands that God sent His Son into the world to die to pay the eternal penalty for their sin, and their reaction is something along the lines of the following:

• But the cool kids are gonna make fun of me and call me a Bible thumper!

• Yeah, I get the gospel, but I heard this really popular minister teach that hell doesn't really exist...so it's probably not that big a deal, ya know?

• Whaddya mean it's a sin?! You mean I can't be a practicing homosexual and be a Christian?! Well, the big church downtown says it's OK, so what's the deal? You're not some of those intolerant homophobic bigots, are you?

• You mean I gotta give up (fill in the sin of your choice)? Ooh, I don't know about that. Maybe this is gonna be harder than I thought.

• Sure, why wouldn't I want to be a Christian? The people in the church are so nice and friendly, and they're always doing cool things for charity and supporting social issues I feel strongly about. I know Christ died for our sins and all that, but it's obviously much more important to follow His teachings so we can make the world a better place, not to shove the Bible down people's throats like those intolerant fundamentalists do!

Ad infinitum. As long as that remains their prevailing reaction, they are trampling the Son of God under their feet, treating the blood He shed for them on the cross as worthless, and insulting the Holy Spirit who has convicted them of sin, but to no avail.

And now you know why God takes that even more seriously than defection from the Law of Moses, and why such people will incur greater punishment in hell than those who strayed from that law:

Defecting from God's law was one thing.
But when people treat the shed blood of
His Son as worthless...now it's personal.

And yes, the Bible does teach that there are varying degrees of punishment for unbelievers (Luke 12:42–48).

Think of it. You sacrifice the life of your child to save somebody, and after they came to a full, clear understanding of what you did for them, they just turn and walk away from you.

You think you might take that personally?

It's almost ironic when you think of it in the following terms, but God's Word is compellingly clear:

The gospel of salvation through faith in Christ is
the greatest blessing that God has ever bestowed
upon man for those who believe unto salvation.

And it is the greatest conceivable curse for those who
hear it, understand it, and reject it unto damnation.

Speaking of personal, few things are more personal than a believer's salvation experience. I think most would agree that few things you will ever experience are any more indescribably intimate than when you came to that point where you knew your sin had separated you from a God who loves you and you asked Him to forgive you, trusting in faith that Jesus had gone to the cross to take the punishment you deserved and was resurrected to give you eternal life.

And you knew way down deep in your spirit that you were saved.

And things were never the same after that.

Now, I know that everybody has a different story. I know that many people don't have a dramatic, Hollywood salvation experience—not everyone falls trembling to their knees, surrounded by a congregation singing "Give Me That Old Time Religion" like Gary Cooper in Sergeant York. Not everyone trudges down the aisle at a revival-meeting altar call with tears streaming down their face to be led in a sinner's prayer by a fiery evangelist while the choir sings "Just As I Am."

I know it sure wasn't anything like that for me.

For many ordinary people it's just a quiet, dawning realization sparked by an experience or something someone has said to them or something they have heard or read that the Holy Spirit has used to prick their heart, and it just goes from there. God uses a countless number of real-world ways to reach real sinners in the real world.

But regardless of the details of your experience—regardless of where you were, what you said or did, or how how it all transpired, one thing is certain:

You knew.

I keep talking about the fact that you just knew you were saved. Is that just talk? Is that just something people say? No sir.

OK, so how do you know? Simple:

In other words:

You know that you're saved because
His Spirit tells your spirit you're saved.

So no, it's not just something people say. It's something God says.

For many people, that experience is so deeply personal that they tend to keep it tucked away like a treasured souvenir—one they don't take out and show to everyone who comes along. They may only dig it out of the closet once in a while to take a private stroll down memory lane.

So do that. Take your salvation experience out of the closet. Dust it off. Run your fingers over it. Relive it. Bring it all back. Feel once again the godly sorrow you felt over your sin. The realization of God's grace and mercy. The asking in faith. The inexpressible joy and release of knowing that you were forgiven and eternally safe in the hands of a loving Heavenly Father because of what His Son did for you at Calvary.

It does a body good.

But then again, there's always the possibility that you might be someone who can't point to such an experience. Maybe you've been to church a few times (or many times), you know the gospel, you know the routine. But if you cannot look back and say "That's when I knew I was saved," then it just may be that you are one who is "almost persuaded." I'm certainly not judging anyone's salvation experience, but perhaps you're someone who never quite came to that place where you were sure. If so, then I would just humbly and gently implore you to seek Him in faith until you are sure.

Draw near.

No one needs to waste another hour being "almost persuaded."

Seek Him until you are rock-solid certain.

Greg Lauer — JAN '19

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