A few cold Sundays ago, the low tire pressure warning on our car pinged and the light flashed on the dashboard just as we were making the final turn toward the church. No problem getting to worship, and on the way home we stopped at a gas station to fill the tires with air. The right rear was down a little more than the others, but I figured the cold might be affecting the pressure. A week or so later I added some air to all the tires before we began our 1200+ mile trip to Missouri. Again, that right rear tire seemed to want a little more air than the others. Then last Thursday, about a week after our return from Missouri, the low pressure light flashed again. That right rear tire had lost another 7 PSI. Time for a visit to the tire shop.
Sure enough, the tire technician found a small nail between the treads. He pulled the nail, plugged the leak, and we were on our way. The right rear tire is holding its air as well as the other three.
So, for more than a month we had been driving round on a right rear tire with a very slight puncture wound. We never heard a hiss. Missouri and back with no problems. I suppose we could have added air every couple of weeks for a long time. I guess we could have ignored that low tire pressure warning light until we happened to find a filling station with an air pump – it’s just that right rear tire down around 7 PSI, we’ll take care of it when we can.
We never heard a hiss, but as slight as it may have been, there was a hiss. It could have taken a month or more, but sooner or later that right rear tire would have been flat. Who wants a flat tire in the middle of Missouri, maybe near Blackwater or Sweet Springs?
What we call Christian virtue can be like the air in the right rear tire of our car. Something punctures it and slowly, imperceptibly, it hisses away until we are stuck at the side of the road near Blackwater or Sweet Springs, Missouri. Greed punctures generosity, pride punctures humility, envy punctures contentment, lust punctures chastity. That greed was so small, that pride so minute, that envy so undetectable, that lust so excusable, that we never heard the hissing sound.
A low tire pressure warning system is a nice feature on a car, even when the ping and the flashing light disrupt our trip to church or a journey across Missouri. Without that ping and flash, we might find ourselves stranded at the side of the road near Blackwater or Sweet Springs, Missouri.
Christians are not equipped with a ping or a flashing light to alert them when a virtue may have been punctured by sin, when grace is slowly hissing away. But while it may not ping or flash, we are given something much better. The Heidelberg Catechism begins by reminding us of the comfort and joy we have in Christ and then offers three things we must know in order“ to live and die in the joy of this comfort.” What must we know? First, “how great my sin and misery are; second, how I am set free from all my sins and misery; third, how I am to thank God for such deliverance.” (Questions 1-2). We are warned of the reality of sin and misery in the Law of God (Question 3). We come to know the joy of Christ and our redemption because the “holy gospel tells us” (Question 19). A life of gratitude is opened to us by the preaching of the gospel (question 84).
God’s word, then, offers warning, it fills us with joy and comfort, it sends us into the world as a thankful people.
Yes, the Christian still discovers those small nails between the treads that puncture our lives of faith, but we have the gift of a God-breathed word that warns us, fills us, and sends us on our way. And even when are stuck at the side of the road in the middle of Missouri, we are promised comfort and joy by the one who cares for us and will send us on our way with his Spirit at our side.