As Greg drove over the dark back roads of Knoxville, Tennessee, he could not help marveling at the man sitting next to him. It was after 2:00 A.M., an unusual time to be taking someone home from a Bible study. But then Lou was an unusual man, and theirs was an unusual study.

For one thing, the reason Greg was taking him home was because Lou was too drunk to drive. Several Christian friends had been playing tennis and gold with Lou for months before he agreed to come to a study. Then for three or four weeks he made up excuses about why he did not come after he had promised to. Then he said he would come only if he could bring his half-gallon of bourbon and cuss and swear as much as usual. When he finally came, the first thing he said was, "I don't buy this #&$%¢* religious stuff!"

As Greg rolled over the situation in his mind--the study group he was leading, the discussion he had with Lou afterwards, his offer to drive Lou home--he also reviewed for himself some other things he knew. Lou was a lawyer and fairly well off; but he had not always been that way. He had grown up on the streets of New York City, never knowing who his parents were. He stole nearly everything he ate as well as the clothes on his back until he was fifteen years old. Lou's childhood memories were of bouncing from one foster home to another.

When they arrived at his home, Lou invited Greg in to talk some more. As they settled into his living room, Lou began to open up. "If it wasn't for Frank and Charlie, I'd write this whole thing off," Lou said. "Those two used to be the most obnoxious #&$%¢*'s I've ever met. But now they are the most humble, loving men I could ever imagine--and it absolutely blows my mind!" He sat silent for a moment, then added, "It must be a psychological crutch. They probably need some religion to turn it all over to, so they don't have to worry."

"Well," Greg responded, "I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life or anything, but isn't your bottle of bourbon a crutch?"

"Oh, sure," Lou admitted, "but it makes me feel good. That way I don't worry so much."

"Trouble is," Greg went on, "it won't work."

"How do you know?"

"Because everybody wants to know who he is and what life's all about. That's just part of being human. But you'll never find that in your bottle. The bourbon is only mental morphine that keeps you from dealing with those real issues about yourself."

"But religion does the same thing!" Lou protested. "Most religious people I know are like zombies that get high on something emotional or traditional and stop thinking. Their religion is like my bourbon. It's what you call 'mental morphine,' and I don't feel any need for that #&$%¢* junk."

"Sure," Greg agreed. "A religious system used as a pain killer isn't any more helpful than booze. But it's too simple to lump off Frank and Charlie as just two guys with a religious background having an emotional experience. Either what they believe is true or it isn't. They believe that Jesus Christ rose from the dead. Their believing it doesn't make it so, but neither does it make it false. If what Jesus said is true, then you and I have a real need for Him even if we don't feel it psychologically."

Greg and Lou wrestled with an issue that deserves a thoughtful answer. "If I don't feel any need for a religious psychological crutch, why should I bother with Christianity?" You may know someone with a question similar to that one. Two questions you might help them answer are:

Every human being seeks meaning for life. We want to know things like: Who am I? Why am I here? What am I for? Am I significant? Where am I going? Many people in our society (especially males under the age of thirty-five seem to think they are being "macho" if they say they do not need religion. In reality they are not being "macho," they are just being immature. We can stick our heads in the sand if we wish and say we are not interested in those things; but before long we will find ourselves seeking answers, just as certainly as we will seek food, water, and shelter. Every human society (no matter how educated or primitive) has religion, and it is taught by the most stable, intelligent members as well as the most emotional and unthinking ones. Even the great European psychologist Carl Jung said that all the psychologically ill patients over thirty-five that he had seen were ill because they did not have a healthy religious outlook.¹ If we are to remain mentally healthy, it is not a matter of if we will seek those things; it is only a question of how.

Jesus Christ said, "I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no man comes to the Father, but through Me" (John 14:6). That does not become true because I feel like believing it, nor does it become false because I feel like not believing it. It is either true or it is not. My believing can make me feel better, but that is like morphine. I might feel better if I believed the same way about Buddha or Mohammed or my new sportcoat. That is still morphine. I can deaden my nerves so I worry less and have more peace for awhile. But unless it is real, I could actually be getting worse while I think I'm getting better. If Jesus Christ was God and did pay for my sins, and if by receiving Him I can have a relationship with the real Creator of the universe--that's a cure, not a crutch! It is penicillin, not morphine! It is an answer and a direction that I need, whether I feel like I need it or not.

Several factors played a part in Lou's openness to the gospel. First, his Christian friends loved him just as he was. They did not condemn him for his life-style. Instead, they brought him to hear the gospel just as he was. God honors that. During Christ's ministry on earth, four friends brought a paralytic to Jesus on a stretcher and lowered him through the roof. It was not the faith of the sick man that got him to Christ, but that of his friends. The Bible says, "And seeing their [the friends'] faith, He [Jesus] said, 'Friend, your sins are forgiven you' " (Luke 5:20). The friends did not first require him to be well; and nether for that matter, did Jesus. It is the same with Lou and many like him. We cannot require that they clean up their lives before we get them to Christ. Jesus wants people to come to Him just as they are.

After sharing a meal and conversation with some people much like Lou, Jesus turned to His critics and said, "It is not those who are healthy who need a physician, but those who are sick; I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners" (Mark 2:17).

A second thing to notice is how Greg used the testimony of the changed lives of Frank and Charlie. An example of what God has done in someone's life can be very effective, especially in dealing with the "psychological crutch" question. A word of caution, however: a testimony of your experience can be helpful to an unbeliever, but not if it requires your own private interpretation to be understood. The blind man whom Jesus healed had a powerful testimony: "One thing I do know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see" (John 9:25). It was a personal experience. But it was also one that anybody, believer or unbeliever, could examine in an objective, logical, honest manner. Anyone could find out that the man had indeed been blind and in fact could now see. His experience was not a private, subjective one, but one that could be examined. The same is true of Frank and Charlie. Their testimony was not some private, mystical happenstance; rather, as Lou himself observed, "Those two used to be the most obnoxious #&$%¢*'s I've ever met. But now they are the most humble loving men I could ever imagine."

At the time of this writing, Lou has not yet received Jesus Christ as his own God and Savior--but Greg tells me he is getting closer every day.

^[1.]  Carl Jung, quoted in Bits and Pieces, May 1978, p. 18.