by RTF Staff Writer Derek Hanisch

Sunday mornings in the church is a big deal. People from all different backgrounds and circumstances come together to worship and they dress up in clothes that feel uncomfortable.

The Sinner sits on a hard oaken pew as he pulls at his necktie. The pew is old, scratched, and stained, a reflection of The Sinner’s heart. Some unseen force has drawn him to this crowded place of the masses.

The Sinner is sitting on a crowded pew, but for all intents and purposes he is alone. The masses of people present don’t affect him; they don’t distract him from The Preacher. It may be a crowded sanctuary on a Sunday morning, yet at this moment it is just The Sinner and The Preacher.

The Preacher stands at the front of the church, large calloused hands gripping the hard edges of the pulpit. Bright lights fill his eyes as he stands in the spotlight. The Preacher is the center of attention on this fine Sunday morning. Sweat slowly trickles down his neck wetting his white collar.

The Sinner listens intently as The Preacher lays out the plan of salvation. Like many who have walked the path before him, The Sinner’s soul hesitantly faces down the well-trodden path of the Romans Road as he learns the true meaning of grace and redemption and salvation. The Sinner has heard these words before, but has dismissed them like one dismisses the claims of aliens abducting an intoxicated fisherman. He’s heard all of these outrageous claims before, yet he has never truly listened.

This time is different; this time is special.

Many a believer has attempted to lead The Sinner to the path of salvation, planting the seeds that The Preacher is now sowing. The Sinner is bursting with jubilation at the core of his being as The Preacher continues to reveal the truths of the Gospel.

Yet a cold, dark hand is gripping at the Sinner’s heart as he waits for the catch of salvation to be revealed. The catch is what has always turned The Sinner away before. The catch of doing good deeds, the catch of donating money to the church, the catch of using religion as a crutch, the catch of giving up who one is to wear a mask and become a fake.

Somehow this time is different. The Sinner cannot explain why it’s different, he just knows it. The Preacher is nearing the end of his sermon feeling defeated. His note cards lie scattered around the pulpit where they slipped from his grasp. A single moment causes The Preacher to trip over his tongue, making a fool of himself in front of the masses. This is without a doubt the worst sermon that The Preacher has ever given.

The Preacher stumbles over a few more words until he begins to speak verses from memory. He brings his message to an end, knowing without a doubt that no one will pray the sinner’s prayer to accept the free gift of salvation.

To The Sinner the words coming out of The Preacher’s mouth are more quenching than water on a smoldering day. The Preacher knows that he has failed, yet out of obligation he asks everyone to bow their heads. If anyone would like to pray the prayer of salvation he instructs them to raise their hand.

Meekly The Sinner’s hand slips into the air. The Sinner still believes that there’s a catch, that it simply cannot be this easily. Yet he takes a gamble, a gamble that will forever change his life.