Bob

All I know about him is that his name is Bob and he plops himself down next to the pastor in the front row every Sunday and whispers in his ear through the whole service and gets up and walks in and out of the sanctuary two or three times without a care that anyone is watching him. There is something a little bit off about Bob.

I was walking down the street with my granddaughter and spotted him sitting alone at one of the outdoor tables at the coffee shop. He seemed to be talking to the man reading the paper at the other table, but the man was studiously not paying attention.

Bob spotted me, too, and waved. When we got closer, he looked at Nassia and said earnestly to me, "Are you teaching her about Jesus?" I said, "Yes, I am." And then Bob hurled forth with a stream of memorized Scripture to the effect that we should proclaim to the succeeding generations the glories of Christ. I was already embarrassed, not because of Bob but for myself, because in my entire life as a Christian I have never done what Bob just did, and with the ease with which he did it.

And yet the Bible says as clear as day, "If you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved" (Romans 10:9-10).

If you are inclined to water down any parts of these two verses, you won't be the first. But I have a feeling I'll be watching Bob's back in heaven.

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