The Great Divide

I’m afraid of heights. Not like ladders or chairlifts (with a safety bar), but more like sheer drop-offs. A few weeks ago, part of my family and I hiked down into the Grand Canyon from the South Rim. Boasting a length of 278 miles and an average width of 10 miles, the views were breathtaking (literally) and the glory of God’s handiwork was something I had longed to see all my life.  

The South Rim is perched at just over 7,000 feet with the canyon floor around 2,600 feet and 9 miles from the top. Appropriately, the path we took is called “Bright Angel Trail.” I figure that’s either because angels are standing guard to keep you from falling to your death or are readily present to escort you to heaven when you do.

To be fair, this trail is extremely well maintained and 4-6 feet wide in most areas, but there are numerous spots where you hike past vertical rock faces plummeting hundreds of feet straight down. Even with hiking poles and hugging the inside of the trail, just realizing that one misstep would send me over a cliff was psychologically crippling at times.

Truly, there are many places where there is nothing to stop you if you were to fall. Nothing to grab onto. No mercy. And did I mention we began our trek early morning but finished after sunset in total darkness using headlamps. Chasm of death plus darkness. Perfect.

What if our spiritual journey was like my recent hike? What if after trusting Jesus as Savior just one stumble in life resulted in a merciless fall off the heavenly trail into hell’s abyss? What if every step we took in life was fearfully paralyzing in light of the potential eternal consequences? No safety net. No mercy. No forgiveness. 

But God. 

This near-death experience (ha!) helped me more fully appreciate how Jesus laid down His life to bridge the impassable canyon of sin and death on the Cross. How Jesus is the only reason we can cross this great divide to enjoy a redeemed relationship with our Heavenly Father.  

So let us come to Bethlehem this Christmas to worship the newborn King but do so remembering His manger lays in the abyss of our spiritual Grand Canyon. And it’s certainly no coincidence that the Light of the World was born at night into the depth and darkness of sin and death. 

For by His Life and Death and Resurrection, no longer do we walk in fear or darkness. No longer are we paralyzed by constant uncertainty or doubt. Because of Jesus, we have eternal life. 

His grip is firm. No one can snatch us out of His hand. His sacrifice is full and complete. There is now no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus. His victory is eternally resounding. Nothing can separate us from His love.  

So let us rise and walk with Jesus in faith – in gratitude – in assurance – in love – and live for Him free of fear!