Vernon

Once upon a time in what seems like a lifetime ago, I spent four years at a school called Denver Seminary getting my Master’s degree.

Denver Seminary has a big library. In the back of the library there was a small office, and inside of the small office there was a small old man. His name was the Reverend Doctor Vernon Grounds. While that name may not mean much to you today, on the campus of Denver Seminary and in many other places, Dr. Grounds is famous. He was a pastor and an evangelist and a theologian and a writer and a professor. The entire back portion of the Denver Seminary library consisted of books that he personally owned. He was for years the president of Denver Seminary. He was, in short, a living legend.

And during the time that I was at Denver Seminary, he was basically retired. He would speak occasionally at events and do some other things, but the reason why he kept a little office at the back of the library was just to meet with people.

In spite of his imposing credentials, Dr. Grounds was a kind and gentle man who loved God and loved people, and no matter who you were or what you wanted to talk about, you could make an appointment and go and talk with Dr. Grounds. 

Needless to say, he was a popular guy. Lots of people spent lots of time talking with him about God and life, and everything in between because, why wouldn’t you?

But you know what? In the four long years that I spent at Denver Seminary, I never went and talked to Dr. Grounds. Not even one time. I spent I don't know how many hours in the back of that library studying and researching, I read several of Dr. Grounds’ books in that library, but never one time did I meet with the man.

To the contrary, I avoided him. Whenever he was out and about around the seminary, people would gather to say hi and chat for a few minutes. But not me. I would slowly walk away, carefully avoiding eye contact.

There is a reason I did that.  I did that because the Reverend Doctor Vernon Grounds was a great man. And I did not know what to say.

When Jesus was on earth, there were a bunch of people who just followed Him around to see what He was going to say and what He was going to do. Anybody could follow Jesus. He never turned anybody away.

But most people did not follow Jesus. And I wonder sometimes--if I would have been there when Jesus was walking and talking and doing miracles and showing everybody who would come and see who He really was, I wonder, would I have been in that crowd, or would I have avoided Jesus like the plague?

I mean, if I don't even know what to say to Vernon Grounds, what would I possibly say to Jesus??

I think a lot of us even today avoid following Jesus for exactly that reason. Because we're pretty sure that Jesus is amazing, and we're pretty sure that we aren't, so we just stay away because we couldn't possibly impress him.

It’s kind of sad, isn't it? We avoid Jesus precisely because we need Him.

The good news is that I've figured out something wonderful since I left Denver Seminary. I've figured out that me avoiding Dr. Grounds and so many of us ultimately avoiding Jesus basically because we feel inadequate makes no sense. Not because we aren't inadequate--we are. But because that’s not how following works.

From the time that Jesus walked the dirt roads of ancient Israel up to this very moment, nobody has ever followed Jesus because of who they were and what they had to say. People have always followed Jesus because of who He is and what He had to say.

That is how following works.

You don't follow Jesus because you are somehow qualified to impress Him. You follow Him because you aren't. 

Likewise, waiting to follow Jesus until you feel qualified is like waiting to take chemotherapy until you feel like you don't have cancer. That is not how following works.

Dr. Grounds is gone now. He passed away a few years ago. So I guess my chat with him is going to have to wait until Heaven.

But Jesus? Jesus is available. And not just available in general. Jesus is available to us. Available to me. Available to you.

Maybe it's time to sit down with him and have a chat.

Do that.

Mick ThorntonComment