Restoring People
Dave Faust
A few minutes after takeoff from New York's Kennedy Airport on July 17, 1996, TWA Flight 800 exploded in mid-air and plummeted into the ocean, killing all 230 people on board. For weeks afterward, aviation and law enforcement officials engaged in what has been called the most expensive plane accident investigation in history, investing thousands of hours of labor to salvage the plane's wreckage from the ocean depths and to determine the cause of the crash. For a time, the National Transportation Safety Board was spending more than $100,000 a day, and the total cost of the investigation has been estimated at $50 million.
It's a slow, costly process to restore a wrecked plane, but most would agree that it's worth the effort. Grieving families want to know what happened to their loved ones. Anxious airline passengers want to know if it's still safe to fly.
But I wonder: how much effort do we expend to salvage a wrecked life? If someone drifts from the faith, shouldn't we go to great lengths to find out what happened and why, and to make sure it doesn't happen again? What happens in your church when a teenager succumbs to peer pressure and begins to wander from the Lord? Does anyone intervene? How hard do we try to support young adults when their faith comes under attack in university classrooms? Do we simply let them go it alone? What are we doing to salvage troubled marriages, to encourage doubters, and to comfort parents whose wayward children are breaking their hearts?
It's vital for churches to restore biblical teaching, but what are we doing to restore people? If we share the angels' joy when a sinner repents, do we also share Heaven's tears when someone turns away from God?
Jesus is a people-restorer. He brings grace to the guilty. He startled his disciples by engaging in a life-changing conversation with a Samaritan woman whose tarnished past included five marriages (John 4:4-42). He accepted and forgave a sinful woman who wet his feet with her tears (Luke 7:36-50). He dined with much-maligned tax collectors like Matthew and Zacchaeus, and reminded his critics that it's not the healthy who need his Great Physician care, but the sick (Matthew 9:12).
How shall we picture the Lord's concern for the lost? He's like a heartbroken parent who watches 50 percent of his children wander from home, or a woman who loses 10 percent of her money, or a shepherd who goes searching when even one percent of his flock is missing (Luke 15:1-32).
Jesus brings help to the hopeless. He touched lepers while others stayed a safe distance away. He salvaged a miserable demon-possessed man who lived in a graveyard and cut himself with stones. By the time Jesus left him, the man was clothed, calm, and clear-thinking—a living testimony to God's power to change a life (Mark 5:1-20).
Jesus brings blessings to the bruised. The prophet Isaiah predicted how tenderly the Messiah would deal with people. "A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out" (Isaiah 42:3; Matthew 12:15-21). Do you know anyone who is like a bruised reed or a smoldering wick—ready to snap, burning out, nearly crushed? What could you do this week to reclaim a nearly-wrecked life? Could your phone call, card, or word of encouragement make a difference?
"My brothers, if one of you should wander from the truth and someone should bring him back, remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins" (James 5:19, 20).
Let's restore people.
This column first appeared in The Lookout on Oct 6, 1996.
Remembering Michael Mack
Like so many others, I was saddened last August to hear about the sudden death of *Christian Standard’s* editor, Michael Mack. When Mike was a seminary student and engaged to be married, Candy and I had him and Heidi over to our house to talk about marriage and ministry. Years later, Mike did free-lance work for *The Lookout* magazine when I served as editor. I respected his attention to detail, his expertise in leading small groups, and his earnest love for God.
Reveling in Revealed Love
"God loves you." What words could be more simple, yet so sublime? What truth could offer more comfort to the lonely, more hope to the grieving, more peace to the afflicted? What promise could provide more reassurance when we ponder the meaning of life and death?