Friday, March 6, 2009


In Washington, D. C., everything is about access. In most parts of the world, access behind closed doors is achieved through who you know, what you own or maybe even how you are dressed. Washington lives on a different currency. Access in this town is all about that little piece of plastic normally hanging from a lanyard around your neck - your i.d. badge.

It is amazing how quickly doors open and closed based on what your piece of plastic says about you. Rob has multiple ones which he uses based on what he is doing at any given moment. On the other hand, the only plastic card I own which grants me access behind otherwise closed doors is the military i.d. which Rob’s military service has entitled me to carry.

Not one day of my life have I served in the United States military. However, I can drive to the local fort, meet the armed guards at the entrance, flash my little piece of plastic and the gates open for me to enter. What did I have to do to get my piece of plastic? Well, besides saying “I do” to that cute man many years ago and spending some time in the military i.d. office waiting my turn, not very much. Rob accepted the commission in the United States Navy. Rob has served for twenty eight years. Rob has gone overseas, spent Christmas day doing paperwork in an office alone, and found himself in places I would never have the nerve to go. Rob even had to get the paperwork filled out and the proper signatures acquired for me to even go sit in the military office for my piece of plastic.

Yet, when I go on base, I am granted access, just like Rob is, to places I otherwise could not go. At the commissary, at the px, even at the swimming pool, they let me in when they see the plastic. Plastic I did not earn, plastic that is only mine because of my relationship with Rob, the one who truly pays the price for my access.

For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, but with the
precious blood of Christ,
A lamb without blemish or defect.
1 Peter 1:18-19

While the access granted to me by my military piece of plastic is indeed interesting, it pales in comparison to the access given to me by “the precious blood of Christ.” The Bible tells me that on my own, I am hopelessly lost and cut off from any kind of relationship with God. He is Holy. I am so not. I rarely even have to get through my morning tea before my words, thoughts or actions remind me of this truth.

Through a process I will probably never fully grasp or even come close to understanding though, I have been granted access to God. Christ’s blood spilled out on the cross is the payment required for me to have a relationship with the God of the universe. Christ took my sin, so God could then look on me and smile. And here is just one of the many amazing things to me about this concept. God pursued this whole process for me. All I had to do to get my military i.d. was basically agree to show up, accept the paperwork Rob had prepared for me and have my picture taken. In much the same fashion, all I have to do to earn my access to God is accept the work Christ has already done for me. Believe in, rely on and trust the “precious blood of Christ.”

So how about you? Would you like access to all that is yours in a personal relationship with the God of the universe? This is the good news. He has already done all the work. He has paid the price, served the time and gotten the paperwork. If you already have your access, thank Him again today for the sacrifice He made to give it to you. If not, why not go get your access right now? He is ever waiting, paperwork stamped with the “precious blood of Christ,” just for you.