I write this on the patio of a hotel in Jamaica, far from the roar and the rush and the cold of the nation’s capital. The ocean, blue and green, depending on how the clouds cast their shadows, is approaching full tide, and not far away is a reef marked by white breakers that lazily wend their way to the shore.
The island of Jamaica was discovered in 1494 by Columbus, whose explorations were financed by Isabella of Spain. My wife brought along a biography of Isabella’s daughter, Catherine, who was married to Henry VIII. Catherine’s poignant story rends the heart, and the reader can only pay tribute to a lady whose cause was just and whose treatment was shabby. She emerges as a far more heroic figure than time-serving Cardinal Wolsey, the papal legate Cardinal Campeggio, and even the pope himself.
Unfortunately, the welfare of Christ’s Church on earth has often been tied to people who, if not graceless, were at least lacking in sanctification. In our day the Church is afflicted by those who profess one thing and do another, who lie without remorse, and who sacrifice principle without the slightest blush.
The greatest need of Christianity in our generation is not for more church members but for better ones, not for those who profess commitment to the will of God but for those who do it, not for those who claim to be moved by the Spirit of God but for those whose life-style is such that men everywhere know without being told that these persons belong to Jesus Christ.
