Endure

 If you’re sitting on the beach with the surf lapping at your feet while the sun is bright, and you’re sipping on some pineapple juice, or if you prefer it a bit tarter, lemonade, you can’t say that you’re enduring anything. That is unless you’re an albino prone to blistering in the sun, but you get where I’m going with this; at least, I hope you do.

There’s also the possibility that you’ve talked your home church into sending you to Fiji or Cancun as a missionary, then just to feel morally superior to everyone back home for not being out in the field, you would see everything from lounging, to walking the promenade, to getting a fish pedicure, to going for a swim as enduring. For some, enduring is no more than the waiter forgetting the pineapple slice in their fruity drink.

If you don’t know what a fish pedicure is, those who have had one insist you’ll never have a normal pedicure again. It’s a tub full of little fish that eat the dead skin off your feet. They nibble at you until the soles of your feet are as soft as a baby’s bottom. Then again, I guess it’s not for everybody. My wife said it tickled too much.

Some people read the Bible in such a way that by the time they’re done with a scripture passage, they perceive the opposite of what the text says. Every time, without fail, what they’ve predetermined as being the truth of scripture lines up with their preconceived notion or long-held belief. It’s amazing how that happens! Well, brother, you know, God always agrees with me. Huh? Is that the way it’s supposed to work? Such people aren’t looking for direction or instruction; they’re looking for confirmation of their own machinations.

If they were in a courtroom, it wouldn’t be leading the witness; it would be punching the witness in the throat, demanding they retract what they’d just said, and insisting they repeat after them.

The often-used analogy of reading the Bible as though you were on a desert island and receiving it as such doesn’t necessarily track because not only do you have preconceived notions swimming around in your hippocampus. There are constant influences from within and without the household of faith trying to direct you to their conclusion.

That whole metanoia thing in Romans isn’t a throwaway line. The problem is that many believers nowadays resist the renewal of their minds because the way they would view the world, themselves, and what God requires is uncomfortable.

I prefer to approach the reading of the Bible as I would following a recipe. The other night we had some friends over, and I made baked brie. It had been a minute since I’d made it, so I looked up the recipe just to refresh my memory and make sure I wasn’t skipping a crucial ingredient.

The recipe called for a handful of ingredients; I went to the store and bought them, then I assembled them as per the instructions, preheated the oven, put the soon-to-be gooey ball of goodness in for the allotted time, then served it to my guests. If you must know, fig. I like fig preserve inside the baked brie, and I’ll even settle for sour cherry in a pinch.

If I’d intended baked brie, and I ended up with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, I can’t blame the recipe book. I have to own it and blame myself because I didn’t start out with the right ingredients, to begin with.

Now, I could have made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and passed them off for baked brie, hoping my guests wouldn’t know the difference. Or, I could have done as I did and followed the recipe and made what I had intended.

Do you want to be saved? If the answer is yes, then He who endures to the end shall be saved. Them’s the rules you have to play by. That’s the recipe you must follow to achieve your desired outcome.

Matthew 24:12-13, “And because lawlessness will abound, the love of many will grow cold. But he who endures to the end shall be saved.”

Before we start breaking down this verse, we need to understand what the word saved means within the context of this passage. Far too many people who self-identify as believers take the word saved in this verse to mean that they will be kept from dying. Sorry to break it to you, but everyone’s end is different as far as timing is concerned. My end can be next week or next month, yours ten years from now, and regardless of when, he who endures to the end shall be saved.

It’s not about this life, this existence, this sack of meat and bone and juices that are withering and dying. It’s about being saved. I know; I should try my hand at writing Hallmark cards or, perhaps, Amish romance novels. Why the latter? It’s an untapped market, and there’s something innocent and wholesome about a line like ‘Simeon couldn’t help but notice Miriam’s sturdy build. She would give him many children after they wed. The farm would nevermore do without field hands.’

No, I’m not poking fun at the Amish. I respect that they’ve been able to maintain their innocence amid this hedonism. That, and they will likely outlive everyone else because they are self-sustaining and don’t need all the crutches we take for granted and have grown so accustomed to.

Back to the verse. If you’re running in a race, the only way to win is to run along the route like everyone else and cross the finish line. I’d look a bit off if I started running around my block, telling everyone I was about to win the Boston Marathon because I was so far in the lead you couldn’t even see all the other runners.

If you add or take away ingredients from a recipe, you’re no longer making what the recipe said you were; you’re inventing your own thing. If you make up your own rules as you’re running a race, you’re no longer running in the race everyone else is; you’re a one-man contest, running in your own race, promising yourself a prize you will never be able to make good on.

Oh, and just because it’s good to know what words mean, to endure is to patiently suffer something painful or difficult. I know those pesky definitions.

With love in Christ,

Michael Boldea, Jr.