Layer upon Layer

While checking for signs of rotten wood on an old roof, Don discovered the roofers had, over the years, built up a thick bulk of layer upon layer of roofing felt. Maybe seven in all, when in fact, fire regulations limit the permissible number of layers to three. 

Workmen who had re-roofed the house a few times over the last half-century had lazily stapled new felt onto old. They couldn’t be bothered removing the old, and were pretty sure the couple who lived in the house would never know the difference anyway. They got away with it.

The old layers of felt had grown dry and brittle in the hot sun. They cracked and crumbled and disintegrated in his hands. They were a fire hazard.

Sometimes we assume that it won’t hurt, and might even be better, to accept something new, say a new belief system, without properly rejecting and removing the old. We think it’s working fine because when the rains come, the roof doesn’t leak. When we are in difficulties, we are able to apply some of the new beliefs and avoid being drenched by the deluge of problems. 

We don’t realize that unseen, underneath, the old system is beginning to crumble and crack, ready to flare whenever a spark flies near. The ensuing blaze may completely destroy us.

What are those hidden beliefs that are a crumbling danger in your life? What are they in mine? Some may be obvious, others may need the light of the Holy Spirit to highlight them. Maybe an irrational flirting with astrology or eastern mysticism, or a reliance on money or prestige. Maybe the delusion of total self-reliance and independence, a fierce rejection of the notion of needing anyone or anything. 

It only takes a spark. 

I need to set aside time, time to be with God, to allow his Spirit to search me and know my heart, to discover any hidden sin within that threatens to destroy me. God is such a loving Father, so eager to bring healing and wholeness to each one of us. 

A willingness and openness, a humble heart ready to shrug off the veneer of respectability in order to reveal and reject the layers of detritus beneath. Jesus took all that detritus to the cross. I’m going to let him cleanse me from mine.

I don’t want to get away with it any longer.