Indeed, it is easier for a camel to go through
the eye of a needle than for someone who
is rich to enter the kingdom of God.
LUKE 18:25
It was summer of ’76, Southern California—a scene out of a Beach Boys song.
Mark and his buddies were jammed into an old station wagon, surfboards lashed on top, radio blasting, heading back home from a long day of catching rays and waves. As Mark cruised through the remote coastal area, out of the corner of his eye he saw a huge odd-looking dog limping along the road. Mark wondered what a dog was doing way out here in the middle of nowhere. He slowed down and focused on this beast. It was more shadow than substance, a walking skeleton. Only it wasn’t Halloween.
As Mark stared out the window, his friends knew him well enough to read his mind. Someone in the backseat laughed and shouted, “Don’t pick it up; it’s a devil dog!”
Indeed, the “devil dog” was a frightening sight. It was the size of a small horse and jet black—or covered with so much grime it appeared to be black. Its body was twisted and bent, its spine arched in a painful C like a canine hunchback—perhaps the result of a recent accident. As to this monster’s breed, it appeared to be a Great Dane/black Lab misfire or a hideous reject from the laboratory of Dr. Frankenstein.
In the eyes of Mark’s surfing companions, this dog was a totally worthless untouchable, a four-legged leper of the lowest canine caste. When Mark passed the dog, his pals breathed a sigh of relief. Mark wasn’t that crazy after all. Then Mark pulled a U-turn and came up behind the devil dog. Mark was that crazy.
He got out and approached the dog. It turned to face him. This was the moment of truth. Would the poor downtrodden animal accept Mark’s kindness? Or would the devil dog use its last gasp of strength to tear out Mark’s throat?
Mark’s friends watched from the safety of the station wagon. Without taking his eyes off the dog, Mark slowly opened the station wagon’s tailgate. The next moment seemed like an eternity. Then, the dog wagged its tail. It was a barely perceptible wag—as if to wag any more would knock this poor animal over. Without hesitation, the beast staggered toward the open tailgate. This dog accepted Mark’s invitation—no questions asked, no second thoughts.
When Mark reached down to lift the dog in, he almost threw the animal over his head. This dog felt hollow! It was skin and bones draped over a balsa wood frame. Mark realized it was probably hours from starving to death.
Once inside the car, the dog collapsed. It couldn’t move a muscle. Mark dropped his eye-rolling friends off and took the dog home. His sister was visiting with her own dog, a young female in heat. Mark’s dog, a male, even though close to death, perked up in the presence of this girlie pooch. Mark saw the twinkle in his new dog’s eye and knew his skeletal pal would pull through just fine.
Mark named the dog Big Sid. He weighed 45 pounds when Mark rescued him. After eating like a horse for a couple of months, the dog doubled his weight. Mark kept him for two very happy years, until Big Sid finally contracted cancer and had to be put down. Mark fondly remembers Big Sid as the most appreciative dog he’s ever owned. Big Sid never lost his attitude of gratitude.
This is a story that could raise a number of interesting questions. But I always wondered why Mark stopped to open the tailgate. And once he did, why did Big Sid come without hesitation?
Mark said he felt “prompted in his spirit” to stop the car. He’d seen many stray animals—but he felt a special connection with this particular lost and broken dog. He wasn’t sure what would happen. He only knew he was supposed to open the tailgate. Then it was up to the dog. Mark wouldn’t grab the dog or tempt it with food. He wouldn’t call to it or do anything to force it to get into his car. But if it chose to come forward on its own, Mark knew the dog was his.
This story illustrates a great biblical truth. Jesus says in John 10:9, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.”
That’s pretty clear. If you want to be saved and spend eternity in heaven, you have to enter through a gate named Jesus. Jesus doesn’t go out and yank you in. He doesn’t flash a wad of money or open a box of chocolates to lure you. He simply is the gate. It’s up to you whether to enter…or not.
It’s a choice with an obvious upside. So why doesn’t everyone dash through this gate?
For one thing, the gate is small. The road that leads to eternal life is narrow and only a few find it (Matthew 7:14).
As if that’s not tough enough, Jesus says in Matthew 19:23-24 (NLT), “I tell you the truth…it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the Kingdom of God!” So, does that mean multimillionaires and the ultra-powerful, super-wealthy Old Testament guys like Joseph and King David couldn’t get into heaven? I don’t think so. I think the kind of rich that keeps us from entering the kingdom of God refers to whatever baggage blocks us from entering the gate. It’s whatever inflates self and ego and tricks us into viewing ourselves as bigger than God. We become so rich in self-importance and self-reliance that we don’t see our need for Him. We fall for Satan’s original pickup line to Eve: “You will be like God” (Genesis 3:5). And if we are like God we certainly don’t need a savior like the pitiful, poor, wretched, blind, and naked of the world do.
Jesus is the gate. You’ve got to enter through Him to be saved. But you have to be small enough to fit. You have to be skinny enough to travel the narrow road. You have to let go of whatever baggage keeps you from fitting through the proverbial eye of the needle.
So, what does all this have to do with Big Sid?
Big Sid was a nothing—the Worst in Show. He was big in size, but small in every other way. He was a walking skeleton. He had nothing, owned nothing, was nothing. He didn’t hesitate to enter Mark’s car because he was a broken-down, worthless pile of skin and bones with absolutely nothing to lose.
Could this be the same way God wants us humans to spiritually enter the kingdom of heaven? Sometimes our egos and self-importance are too inflated to let us squeeze through that small gate. Our obsession with accumulating too many temporary worldly possessions makes us too wide to travel the narrow road. Basing our security and our identities on the size of our savings accounts, 401Ks, and stocks and bonds makes it impossible for us to pass through the eye of the needle.
Bottom line: We’ve got to be like Big Sid if we want to get into the kingdom of heaven. When Jesus opens the tailgate we must not hesitate to enter in and choose Life. But if you’ve got too much stuff and you can’t let it go, you won’t be able to fit in that wagon.
You say you just can’t dump your fancy designer clothes and shoes to live life in sackcloth and sandals? You don’t have to. You just have to have an epiphany that will change your life. You just have to realize the truth of Revelation 3:17: “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.”
We all need a spiritual reality check. We all need to open our eyes and see ourselves as God sees us—without all the external worldly trappings that cloak our true spiritual selves.
You and I may be more like Big Sid than we think.
Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me (Revelation 3:20).
Do you have baggage in your life that’s making it hard for you to fit through the eye of the needle or walk the narrow road? What makes it tough for you to let it go? What might you gain of much greater worth if you released it? What choice will you make?