the rambling missionary

by erika haveman

I am a bit of a movie nerd. I love Star Wars, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, X-Men… If you’ve ever seen the old Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan and the new Star Trek: Into Darkness you’ll know all of the similarities, and you’ll have known that at the end of Into Darkness (spoiler alert!) nobody actually dies. In the more recent Star Trek the warp core on the Enterprise gets misaligned. Without the warp core on line, the Enterprise begins to fail and plummet towards the earth, which would result in the death of the ship, its crew, and likely excess civillian casualties. Captain Kirk, risking his life due to extreme amounts of radiation exposure within the warp core unit, attempts and succeeds to get the warp core realigned. In doing so his body is overwhelmed by radiation poisoning, and of course the inevitable of such a situation is death.  However, in The Wrath of Khan a similar situation unfolds, only with Spock playing the sacrificial one.  As any Trek nerd knows, the old 3rd Star Trek’s entire plot line revolves around bringing Spock back to life – an impossible feat the viewer sees done.  Knowing that, there was of course no question that J.J. Abrams & co. would find a way to ensure Kirk doesn’t die.  However that specific story line isn’t what I want you to think about, exactly.  Consider with me what Spock and Kirk, respectively, had to do in order to save lives of hundreds of people.  The Enterprise’s warp core is the most important piece of equipment built into the ship. It is not just crucial, but integral to ensuring the ship exists to transport people anywhere, anytime. Without the warp core, there is no ship; without the warp core, the Enterprise is a useless collection of metal.  When the warp core is aligned, the ship will function perfectly. When it’s misaligned, someone needs to do something desperate to realign it.

I feel like our hearts work the same way.

Recently my heart has felt very off.  Misaligned.  I hadn’t been able to put my finger on it until really recently, when I came across a statement which gave me great pause.

“What must I do to be saved?  But if that question means, How can I go to heaven when I die? then it is a theoretical question.  To be saved means to live a new life, to be saved from sin, selfishness, fear and guilt.”

On January 31, 2016 I read this in Bruce Shelley’s Church History in Plain Language.  I’ve been reading a lot of books lately – that happens when you’re enrolled in Ron Smith’s Directed Reading Course of the Bible.  But this quote forced me to stop.

Since the fall I’ve been working towards becoming a full time missionary with YWAM – something I didn’t think was in the cards for me, but as God does, the unexpected is unfolding.  I returned to YWAM Montana and took a Theology of Paul course which opened up conversations and systems of thinking for me that challenged my paradigms in all sorts of fantastic ways.  I finally felt like I had a safe space to wrestle with the big questions like predestination, infant baptism, and communion amongst other things.  In those 6 weeks I felt something stirring inside of me that I couldn’t explain.  I slowly felt, regardless of the fact I was learning and growing, like my heart was trying to shift.  I thought my heart was aligned with God’s – but maybe I’d become preoccupied, since first responding to God in sincerity almost 8 years ago, with my own self, my own work, my own goals and dreams, my own ministry that I started to miss the point of being a Christian.  What my soul was really itching to understand was, “What must I do to be saved?”

To be sure, Galatians has made it clear that it is by grace alone we have been saved, through faith in Christ, so that we cannot boast in our own works to merit our salvation.  It has nothing to do with the bad choices I’ve made just as it has nothing to do with the good choices I’ve made.  If that’s the case: what’s the point of choices at all?

You see this was so beyond comprehension for me because in my brain, “What must I do to be saved?” was synonymous with, “What do I need to do in order to ensure my space in heaven when I die?”  In reading Church History I’ve realized the two are not synonymous.  I’ve never truly considered “being saved” as a reality that is getting worked out this side of heaven.

In Acts 16:30 someone else asked this exact same question.  A jailer, knowing his life was lost because of the earthquake that enabled Paul and Silas to go free, ask this question of the two apostles.  The men of God answer by saying, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household.”  Then they go on and share the word of the Lord with this man, baptize him and his family, and share a meal at the man’s home.  Of course my response to this that my situation is very different than this jailer’s who had possibly never heard of Jesus before.  This is no excuse, however, in trying to understand the longings of the question, “What must I do to be saved?”

If you’re like me, you probably don’t remember hearing the Gospel presented to you.  It was just always there.  Jesus was there, church was there, the need to be good was there, shame when you did wrong was there.  It was just present and unexplained.  Sure there have been moments when I’ve encountered God, and yes they’ve been life altering – but I’ve never found myself asking the question, “What must I do to be saved?” until recently.  I’ve always assumed I’m going to heaven – but that leaves little explanation on what that means before heaven.

Being someone who appreciates the older articles of faith, I turned to the Heidelberg Catechism for some help.  Lord’s Day 1 has for a long time been a compass that has helped guide my life and decisions, but rarely do I go beyond that Day.  However, in my searching I came across Lord’s Day 23, Q. 87 which says: