Starting this week, I ‘m going to attempt to publish a short message that summarizes the end of workout devotional for that particular day. Today’s workout was titled “A Baptist, a Presbyterian, and a Methodist Go Out for a Run“. Now, at first glance that might seem like the intro for a humorous joke, right? But some from this morning’s planned 10 km run might argue that today’s tough run was by no means funny!
Truth be told, aren’t Baptists completely different from Presbyterians? And likewise, aren’t Presbyterians cut from a completely different cloth than the Methodists? And sure, let’s not even try to compare the Methodists to the Baptists.
Actually, those three segments of Christian faith though diverse in their denominations, are more alike than you might think. Here’s one analogy to bring home my point.
Last night just as it was turning dark, I went out into our back yard to see if our five chickens had done their daily routine of migrating from their “free range” in the backyard into their hen house for the night. You can almost set your clock to this evening ritual for the hens. One by one, they head into the smaller door beneath the hen house, climb up the ramp, and perch up on their roosting rods for a safe night of rest. My job is to close up the smaller door and raise the ramp once they’ve gone up so they can be safely buttoned up for the night.
This particular evening however, I noticed three of the hens, the white bantam, the cream-colored mille fleur, and the larger mixed colored Americana, were all out in the middle of the yard even though it was dark outside. And when they saw me, they immediately ran over to me in a somewhat frantic disposition. They gathered around my feet, one of the hens even pecked at my shoes as if to really get my attention. It was then I noticed that the smaller door that is normally open in the evening was already shut closed. I suspect that one of the kids that had been playing in the backyard earlier might have inadvertently closed the door, thinking they were doing me a favor.
The hens and I walked over to the smaller door and, once opened, they quickly ran inside and up the ramp. I also noticed the remaining two hens, the Rhode Island Reds, had flown up into the raised flower box on the front side of the hen house, and were perched up there also waiting to get inside the upper room.
These five hens are different in size, shape and color….but they all wanted to get inside the safety of the hen house. And they had all run to the “chicken farmer” since he was the one they trusted to put them back inside.
So true is it with our brothers and sisters of different Christian faiths, right? Sure we may all look a little different and our feathers ruffle a little bit differently from time to time. But we all want and need to get to the “Good Shepherd” to find our safe place. We all want to get to that upper (heavenly) place for comfort.