The Cross

John sat in the sterile white room. The little waiting room was as empty as the void that cold October night. A navy blue Bible was closed in his hand. Its bright golden writing glinted in the artificial light. He heard his name. A nurse was holding a clipboard and looking at him.

" John Stewart?" she inquired.

" That's me." he replied.

" He will see you know." she said blankly and John rose from his small, crimson chair. The hallway was long and gray. With doors standing as passageways into the lives of hundreds. John imagined the stories that were concealed within the rooms. Stories of dread. Stories of love. Stories of change and hardship.

The room he was looking for was on his left. He faced the door and took a deep breath. He knew what he was going to face. John opened the door with a long drawn out creak. There the patient lay.

His body was concealed by a thin bluish white blanket with only his arms and face potruding out. Like a clean surface with a few dirty splotches left behind. He was old, but not as old as one may think. As far as John knew, the man had barely past fifty. His eyes were closed, but the monitor beeped in time with his sluggish heart beat. His face was half hidden by a light gray beard, and his wrinkled skin held a deathly palor. His arms were scarred as were his hands, and his face was rigid and grim. He had seen some hard times in his life, John didn't have to know him to see that fact.

John approached quietly and softly turned to a page in his Bible to Isiah 40:31. He read it out loud.

"For those who trust in the Lord, , shall renew their strength,they shall soar on the wings of eagles, they shall run and not grow weary, they shall walk and not grow faint." he chanted softly.

" A good verse to know." the man in the bed mumbled. John started to see the man come to life so fast. The man continued before John could recover.

" Don't get to scared now. I ain't back from the dead, I just waking up for a little while. You a preacher?"

" Yes. I am."  John said, regaining his composure.

" Then what are you doing in my room." the man asked, cocking his head.

" Well, your family requested that I speak with you." John stammered out.

" Let me guess, they told you that I was hellbound and set in my old ways. Something close to that anyway."

" Nothing of the sort." John assured. The man weezed out a fitful laugh that sounded more like a gag.

" Sure they did. I guess I should tell you that I ain't one of the people you need to be talking to. I am baptized and saved all through. On fire for the Lord I was. At least for a while." he admonished.

" Was? What made you stop?" John asked softly, regaining his rhythm that he took with people on their deathbed.

" Christians." the man replied.

" What do you mean?" John asked perplexed.

" You really want to know?" the man sighed.

" Yes."

" Huh. Well it all started about ten years ago," the man began. " I was touring the states, speaking in revivals and such. Giving out my good and jolly testimony. I noticed something then. Something you people always blind yourselves to."

"What is that?"

" YOU preach about togetherness and fellowship. YOU teach that Jesus excepts everybody! How can you say that when you don't believe it?"

" I swear that I do believe that sir!" John shouted.

" No you don't. Tell me, what denomination are you?"

" Baptist." John said.

" Well, what's the difference between a Baptist and a Methodist?"

" Interpretation of the Word and certain practices like baptism are different, and........."

" There you go! That is what I mean. Next you would talk about some churches not agreeing with once saved always saved. Catholics talking about special prayers and confessions! Where does it say in that bloody Bible your holding that we are supposed to split!"

John was silent. His mouth moved, but he could not say anything.

" Well, let me give you a verse! First Corinthians chapter one, verse ten! Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgement!"

" But............" John suttered.

" But nothing. How can we minister to others? How can we preach with conviction? How can we even say we love one another when we can't stop arguing over anything!"

" I don't know." John finally got out.

" You don't know. Do you believe that we are the body of Christ?"

" Yes."

" Well, here is another verse for you. Same book and chapter, but verse thriteen.  Is Christ divided, was Paul crucified  for you? or were ye baptized in the name of Paul. Another verse is verse 20. Where is the wise? where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this world? Hath not God made foolish the wisodm of this world? What is the founding belief of all Christianity?"

" Well.." John started.

" Just answer the dang question!" the old man yelled.

" That Christ died of our sins and we should trust him as our savior." John rattled off.

" Good boy. Now, don't all denominations, Methodist, Batpist, Presbytarian, even Catholic, believe that?"

" I believe so." John said warily.

" Yes. We ALL believe that. We all are on a journey to face our savior and the cross, but you know what I think we will all do in heaven?"

" What?"

" We will all bicker and fight before our maker. Because we can't just realize taht we are all facing the cross with the same Jesus hanging on it."

The old man's  eyes closed and his breathing stopped. The heart monitor flatlined. John was ushered out, stunned. He walked out of that hospital with his mind full of conflict. He looked up the verses the old man had rattled off, wondering if he had been delusional, but they were true, almost word for word. The man was right. Every Christian was part of the Body, and all of them followed Jesus, with only man's foolish wisdom clouding the truth. They were all facing the cross, with the same Savior nailed to it.

"

 

 

Author's Note

I don't know if this will offend anybody or not, but it is what I am confronted with almost everytime I step out my door or into my own church. I think it is a fact that needs to be said