A few posts ago, I introduced my friend Giorgia to you. For the sake of those of you who are new here, suffice to say, she is my Italian neighbor and knows her way around the kitchen.
I was on our porch last July, sweeping up fallen leaves that a summer wind had left behind when I heard Giorgia greet me from across the lawn. We chatted amiably about a variety of things and somehow the conversation turned to seafood. Giorgia’s eyes lit up as she spoke about the subject that was dear to her and animatedly asked me if I had ever visited the Italian fish shop on a certain street. I sheepishly admitted that I had not. Since Austria is a land-locked country, to be able to get your hands on some fresh fish is a treat.
“Do you like mussels? What about fresh prawn?” she asked. Giorgia was delighted to hear me answer affirmatively to both those questions. “This is very good!” she exclaimed, “Then you must really like spaghetti allo scoglio.”
“What’s that?” I asked, puzzled.
“What? Don’t tell me you have never tasted it. It’s impossible. It is like a signature dish in our country!”
Taking in my still baffled expression, she took a deep breath and said in typical “Giorgian” fashion, “Okay. Never mind. We can fix this. Come home on Sunday for lunch. I will make this for you. You cannot have an Italian friend and not taste spaghetti allo scoglio!”
Unsurprised yet moved at her generosity, I accepted her invitation. To make a long story short, I still talk about the delicious meal she prepared for us that Sunday afternoon many months ago. It was everything that I appreciated in a seafood dish. I was glad to have tasted it, and consequently, to have experienced a tiny part of the essence of Italy.
This act of hospitality brought to mind a verse I read in 2 Corinthians 2:14 “But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume.” We, as believers have tasted the redemptive sweetness of Christ and the salvation that He offers. Having experienced that richness, we have an obligation to introduce those in the dark to the Light.
Needless to say, our power is limited to telling others about Christ and showing them His love. It is only the Holy Spirit who can lead them to salvation. “But how can they call on him to save them unless they believe in him? And how can they believe in him if they have never heard about him? And how can they hear about him unless someone tells them?” (Romans 10:14)
When Giorgia spoke to me about the dish, I listened to what she had to say with polite interest. However, it would not have contributed to my experience in any way had I not tasted it myself. Only an experience can lead to comprehension, which in turn becomes a conviction. Now, if someone told me that pasta allo scoglio tasted sour, I would laugh in disbelief. This is true for every man’s relationship with Christ too. Each man ought to taste in his own heart the grace and goodness of Christ Jesus.
On the day of judgment, we will all face the Judge separately. On that day, it is every man as an individual. As Romans 2:5-6 reads, “For a day of anger is coming, when God’s righteous judgment will be revealed. He will judge everyone according to what they have done“. If we do not introduce Christ to the people we come to contact with, they will experience a very different aspect of Him on that imminent day.
What a beautiful example the Samaritan woman at the well sets for us! As soon as she had a foretaste of the living water that “springs up into eternal life” (John 4:14), she could scarcely contain herself. She went back to the very people who despised her, treated her with contempt, and were indignant to be seen with her. Now was not the time for revenge. No, all those offenses and trivialities were suddenly unimportant. She had found something way too valuable to keep to herself.
The lyrics of the song ‘Through Heaven’s Eyes‘ come to mind:
A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king
If we, the redeemed of the Lord, are not truly excited about the good news of the Gospel – the only hope for man’s priceless soul – it is because we do not yet realise the depravity of our sin. We often tend to entertain the misguided notion that we are better than who we truly are. We conveniently forget that all our righteous acts are likened to a “filthy rag” (Isaiah 64:6). But praise be to God that “because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Corinthians 1:30).
If Christ has indeed saved my soul by giving His life, if He has made clear that no man comes to the Father except through Him, and that we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, will I not tell everyone I know? Will I not go out into the world as a man rushes to alert his neighbors that the building is on fire? What is stopping me? My pride? The fear of being called a “fanatic”? That is as reasonable as not alerting your neighbours of the fire because you are embarrassed to be seen in your nightclothes! A human soul hangs in the balance. If not you, who? If not now, when?
“O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, ‘Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away.’ Then give me the grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long.” (A.W. Tozer)