Dear friends, although I was very eager to write to you about the salvation we share, I felt I had to write and urge you to contend for the faith that was once for all entrusted to the saints. –Jude 1:3
Some guy with a name I can neither pronounce or spell called me today with a major sob story. In brief, he needed to get into my online drama course or the world would come to an end. Would I please, he asked, allow him to enroll even though the time for late enrollment had already passed? For some foolish reason, I knuckled under.
When I passed the request on to my department office, the people who would have to push the buttons to bring Mr. Unpronounceable onto the roster, I received a response that I should have expected. “Where does it all end?” my Assistant Dean, Andy, asked. “We’ve been turning people down since Wednesday.”
Andy might have been passing on information about recent research in literary studies or exciting conferences we might want to attend. He could have been sharing the latest, greatest viral video, but instead he felt compelled to explain what should have been obvious to a veteran of the enrollment wars. We don’t enroll people late. We don’t overbook our classes. We don’t make exceptions unless the college has messed up. That’s all.
I get that vibe out of Jude as I read today’s verse. He’d like to be writing about something interesting, but instead he finds himself compelled to explain the basics to his audience. How often does God feel that way with me. Just yesterday, I found myself chastened as God took a pile of stress away from me. “Trust in me! Lean on me! This world is trouble, but I’ve overcome the world! Haven’t you heard that before?”
Wouldn’t it be great if we could stop re-learning the basic lessons? Where might God take us if that ever happened?