Danger of Collapse
Lord, how long will you look on? Rescue my soul from their destruction, my precious life from the lions. — Psalms 35:17
But there also arose false prophets among the people, as among you also there will be false teachers, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, denying even the Master who bought them, bringing on themselves swift destruction. — 2 Peter 2:1
Author
Milagros García Klibansky
Summary: Like the hospital that was dismantled little by little while it still stood, our faith can deteriorate without our noticing. We are temples of the Holy Spirit, but if we stop examining ourselves, we can lose the ability to distinguish what honors God from what dishonors him, even while believing ourselves to be steadfast. Let us care for our foundations through daily conversation with our Maker. Let us seek his love and grace, remain united to him as vine branches are to the trunk, and ask for the living water that quenches our thirst. Rather than trusting in our own strength, let us live holding fast to Christ.
In 1989 I was studying psychiatry, and although I specialized in treating adults, I had to do a brief rotation in the children’s specialty, which I did at the Pedro Borrás Children’s Hospital. It was a majestic, castle-like building with several floors, an architectural beauty in our capital, with room for many patients.
That same year it was closed for repairs. Sadly, time began to pass, and with it came vandalism. One day the windows and doors were gone; the bathrooms had been destroyed and stripped of their fixtures; the wall tiles had vanished. No one noticed—or at least that was what one might suppose.
Twenty-five years have passed since then. The building looks like a sad corpse, yet it still stands as a reminder of how numb human beings can become when they remain detached, watching destruction come little by little. Could a building that has survived the ravages of time, without anyone noticing its presence for 25 years, be so weak? Now one can see interior walls from which bricks have been taken. We know what its end will be; there is no remedy now.
We are not so different from this building, nor from those who allowed it to reach this deplorable state. We are a temple, the temple in which the Holy Spirit of God dwells. But at times we fall into a state of detachment and do not stop to confront ourselves and examine the condition of the walls of our faith.
And so vandalism begins to take hold of our souls, and we begin to call good evil and evil good (Isaiah 5:20).
We lose the boundary between what honors our Father and what dishonors Him, and we flirt with the world, saying that we are strong and stand firm (1 Corinthians 10:12), without realizing that our foundations have shifted and our walls are no longer so secure. May God protect us. If a flood begins at that moment, we will not even have anywhere to take shelter.
Unless we are not detached, unless we feel the need for daily conversation with our Maker, unless we take care not to neglect the Spirit of the Son who lives in our hearts and cries out on our behalf (Galatians 4:6)
Unless our souls thaw and each day we seek the warmth and shelter of Him who tells us, “I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have extended My mercy to you” Jeremiah 31:3 and “My grace is sufficient for you” 2 Corinthians 12:9
Unless we remember that we are branches and that it is important for us to bear fruit, but much more important that we cling to the trunk (John 15:1–11)
Unless our blood is His and our thirst is quenched only by His living water, and we beg for it on our knees, saying: Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.
Unless we exchange our life for His. (Galatians 2:20)