Read Romans 5:20-21
It would be hard to say when I last saw anyone riding on the handle bars of a bicycle, or, on the open tailgate of a pickup truck. These carefree recollections would take on an entirely different tone if observed today. Living dangerously and taking chances is not something I would advocate; and yet, I wonder if we have lost something by excluding any activity which contains an element of danger. The National Park Service has noted an increased level of foolhardiness on behalf of tourists who seem to believe our National treasures have been safety inspected to the level of a theme park. The ability to recognize real danger seems, in part, to rely on our exposure to less dangerous things. I stuck a barrette in an electrical outlet at age four and gained immense respect for electricity that has not waned. It seems that pain has a way of getting our attention. The same appears true in spiritual matters.
While we all celebrate the powerful testimony of a drug-abusing, Skid Row hustler turned soul-winning evangelist, most people have a less theatrical story to tell. However, that does not mean it should be any less dramatic. The elements are all the same. The ability to recognize our real depravity — or at least our potential for depravity — relies, in part, on our exposure to the danger or consequences of sin. When we are insulated from the consequences, we do not experience the depth of pain and hopelessness that comes from having only ourselves to blame. Therefore, the perception of our need for a very real and personal Savior is lessened. The futility of a dead life must be acknowledged, so that we release the hold of this life and embrace a new life in Christ. Christ did not die in order for us to be nice people, nor did He die for this world to become a better place. He died for me. I needed Him to die. Without His death, I was a hopeless sinner headed straight to hell. How about you?
Read Romans 5:20-21