Thinking Inside The Fox

Ever notice how no one on earth is too stupid, too ignorant, too uneducated or too dense to be a Christian?

Case in point:

Wednesday Ginny had two doctors’ appointments, one in the morning, other in the afternoon. In between, she and I ran errands — drug store, Office Depot, etc. We also engaged in a generous act of Christian Charity — er, make that, we cleaned a bunch of junk out of our house and carted it to the mission for the poor to use.

We also killed some time at the Fox Restaurant in Avondale, Ginny’s favorite place for breakfast. Here she is at the door:

Newspaper reviews frequently rate the Fox among Jacksonville’s best. Crowds of people line up on the sidewalk every weekend waiting to get a booth in the Fox. It’s worth the wait. Even this midweek morning people stood waiting to get in:

Various unique wall hangings and examples of folk art contribute to the charm and ambiance of the Fox. I’m not sure if the restaurant draws its name from the fox hunting pictures among the other decorations, or from the foxy waitresses — either way, the name is appropriate.

As we enjoyed our brunch, I noticed, among the things posted on a rear wall, this intriguing sign:

I reacted with scorn; How ignorant, I thought.

I reacted with mockery; That’s dumb, I thought.

I dismissed the sign with vain arrogance; How quaint, I thought.

But the more I ate and the more I thought; the more my thinking changed.

In this crude poster somebody tried to the best of his ability to honor Christ.

Do I do as much?

Really? To the best of my ability?

The sign-maker tried to testify, to share his faith, in the best way he knew how.

Do I do that?

In my scornful, mocking, arrogant manner, here I was putting down someone who tried to witness to Christ. Yes, his idea of a great hymn is I’ll Fly Away, but that last line of his message is clear — Jesus said, Come to me and I save you.

The guy who made this sign probably never earned a degree in systematic theology, but he made the Gospel as clear as he knew how to make it.

Brother Lawrence said that God does not regard the greatness of any deed so much as the love with which it is done.

The guy who painstakingly printed this sign stands tall above me in expressing love.

When I try to witness to Christ to someone, I subject my poor target victim to arguments about teleology and ontology. I want to show off that I’m not your run-of-the mill Scope’s Trial hillbilly fundamentalist.

I want to rank right up there with mankind’s smartest thinkers, to link my name with Calvin and Aquinas and Kepler and what’s-his-name — you know that real brainy Danish theologian nobody reads or can spell.

I don’t want to be perceived as a dummy but as a smart ass guy. So, I show off me more than I display Christ.

(Incidentally, you can tell the folks to whom I witness by that glazed, haunted expression in their eyes.)

But I wonder if victims of my evangelistic efforts ever get the message: that Jesus sed, “Come to me and I will save you”.

I do so want to be in the Christian smart set.

What a crock!

There is no Christian smart set.

In fact, there is no human smart set. We all miss the mark and fall short of the glory God intends for us. Stupid fuzzy sheep go astray no more often than we do.

Saint Francis of Assisi told the intellectuals of his day, “Try to realize the dignity God has conferred on you. He created and formed your body in the image of His Beloved Son, and your soul in his own likeness. Yet every creature under heaven serves, acknowledges and obeys its Creator in its own way better than you do.”

That’s right.

The dumbest dodo never sinned.

We, of all God’s creatures, are the only fallen ones.

Collectively and individually, we blew it. We screwed up royally. We sinned. Then we rolled in it like a happy dog in cat vomit.

There’s not a teddy bear in the lot of us.

Head lice, warthogs, and roaches have no need of a Savior, only smart guys like us.

So, while I first mocked and scorned and dismissed the sign in the Fox as the work of an ignorant lout, the more I thought about his message, the more I realized something:

I could not have said it better!

Jesus said, “Come to me and I will save you”.

Lord, please be merciful to John Cowart, a sinner — and a smug know-it-all.