But they were not willing . . .

When the barn is burning, horses will not come out. If blindfolded and removed from danger, they will run back into the barn if they can get away from their rescuers. Their fear of the fire tells them safety is in the barn.

While I shake my head over this animal logic, and while I realize a human being in a burning building would not refuse to come out, there is something in the sinful heart of people that makes us reluctant and stubborn about accepting the offer God makes of eternal life. Logically speaking, this makes no sense. If someone says, “I can give you life that lasts forever,” why would a person not jump at that offer?

Jesus came to this world with full knowledge that we are in a burning barn. This world was once judged by water in a flood that destroyed all life except Noah and his family. The next judgment is by fire. The Bible is clear that the works of God’s people will be judged by fire (even though we will be saved), but those who are not His people will face eternal fire.

Jesus grieved over the souls of men and women who had no interest in His attempts to bring them out of this barn. They didn’t want the eternal life He offered. In John 5:40, He said, “You are unwilling to come to Me that you may have life.” This strange attitude about eternal life is described also in Romans 3 where Paul says:

As it is written: “There is none righteous, no, not one; there is none who understands; there is none who seeks after God. They have all turned aside; they have together become unprofitable; there is none who does good, no, not one.” (Romans 3:10-12)

Apart from God giving it, I cannot be a righteous person, nor would I even care to be. The best I could do would be “religious” which amounts to an attempt to please God (or impress others) by looking good externally. This is not acceptable. His righteousness comes from deep within, from that new life that Christ alone can give me. Without it, I would perish.

Yet I too am like a horse in a burning barn. If left to my own devices I would stay in the barn rather than seek a way out; I would not even seek God.

As I look back over what happened in my conversion, I realize that God came in and grabbed me, and that I was not looking around trying to find Him. He pulled me out of the certainty of fire and took me to safety. He also gave me His life. When that happened, my interest in running back into the barn, along with my fears, simply disappeared.

Now I look at those who are like I was. They are doing their own thing and not even aware of the fire in their barn. I want to rescue them. However, that is not possible. I can tell them, but unless the Holy Spirit does the work in their hearts, they will fight freedom and eternal life as if it were their enemy.

In one passage in the Gospels, Jesus is lamenting the lost souls in the city. He says:

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! (Matthew 23:37)

I have a print of a painting by Greg Olsen. It pictures Jesus sitting on a hill overlooking the city and is based on this passage. As I read Jesus words and feel some small measure of His angst over the unbelief around Him, I wonder if the painting has Jesus looking too serene and the city looking too normal. Shouldn’t there be fire? Shouldn’t there be agony and tears?

Yet maybe not. In this life, no one sees the fire. That is part of the blindness to their spiritual need. As many of them say, “I am just fine. I don’t need anything else; I don’t need faith.”

Sometimes I almost see the fire, but on those days when it seems remote, even unreal, I often feel the sorrow of Jesus over lost souls in the burning barn. I know His sorrow and wish I could gather them up and take them to safety.

Last night I felt like that. Our visit with family who are in a cult went well. The wife is ill, and at one point in the evening, a strong desire came over me to pick her up and hold her. I hugged her instead. Later, I told her that I was praying for her, and was surprised to see her smile of sincere appreciation. This was the first sign so far that there might be some willingness to get out of that burning barn.

Until that happens, I feel that I am on that hill with Jesus watching those who are unwilling. I keep praying that the Holy Spirit will change their hearts and bring them out of their fears and false sense of security, and into the life that only Jesus can give.