Merriam-Webster defines ‘privilege’ as a right or immunity granted as a peculiar benefit, advantage, or favor. 

This is what Jesus’ death on the cross gives us – an immunity granted by our Savior. Jesus’ death and resurrection and our acceptance of Him as our Lord and Savior means that we do not go to hell as we deserve, but we are now forgiven and we will be going home to the arms of Jesus when we die.

If Jesus is alive and well in our lives today, if He is as real to us as our family, if we hear His voice in the words from the Bible and obey them, then why ever would He desert us on the day we die? The one we love above all others is the one we will be with for eternity.

This came to mind this summer as a lifelong friend was visiting and mentioned the death of someone in her family and then said that she herself was vague about where she would be spending eternity. My hand shot upward with my finger pointing toward heaven and I said, “I’m going home to be with Jesus.”  She was amazed that I was so sure. I really believe she thought I was a bit delusional. I am not.

My life is Jesus’. He has given me everything and I have held out my hands to Him to give it all back if ever He wants it. When I wake up in the morning, I talk to the Father and seek wisdom and peace and direction for the day. I cannot imagine a day without God in my life. It would be horror-filled.

It is not the same for my friend. She goes to church, she does what is ‘required’ by the church, and that is her walk with Jesus. Sort of a “I’ll see you again next Sunday” walk. This is the relationship of a casual acquaintance, not a relationship we have with a friend. It is certainly not the relationship we have with someone who has saved our life.

I am privileged, not only to know Jesus on a deeper level than my friend does, but also to receive His gift of immunity that He offers to each one of us.

Jesus is real. Jesus is here in my soul, heart, bloodstream, and life. When I speak with anyone, I am constantly relying on the words of Jesus to guide my thoughts and conversation. Jesus is very much alive and breathing in my life.

Maybe you know someone who is like my friend and Jesus is just an acquaintance. Possibly, as there are many people now who have never been to a church or heard of salvation, that friend doesn’t know anything about Jesus. What then?

I can’t think of one person who loves another that wouldn’t share their privilege with them. Whether it is box seating at the Phillies game or a free tub of Johnson’s Popcorn, we share our privilege with those we love. We tell them about Jesus, our Savior – the love of our life.

Let’s take this one step further and as Jesus said, “Love our neighbor as our self.” That adds an obligation.  We are blessed and so we must love and bless others. 

That is really not as hard as it sounds because working from our own selfish selves, we can’t do anything so wonderful, but when Jesus is part of our heart and bloodstream, it is possible. As the Apostle Paul said, “I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.” We do nothing in our own strength. We have nothing to offer anyone in our own power except the story of what Jesus has done in our lives. 

That story of our lives, changed and ruled by our Savior, can make a lasting difference to one who has never heard of Jesus before, or even one who has only a passing acquaintance of Jesus.

It becomes our privilege to pass on the joy of our salvation to others, so that they, too, may know Jesus.

My friend and I spoke a few more times about eternity before she left, but none of those talks were deep enough for her to understand. At the last minute, on her way out the door, I grabbed my Bible and gave her a small tract that has been there for years. The title was, “Where will you spend Eternity?” 

I have spoken with my friend numerous times since, but she never has said she read the tract or has any questions. My prayer now is that Jesus will open the eyes of her heart to see Him as He is, so that we will be together in His arms for eternity.

ED. NOTE: Amy Patsch writes from Ocean City. Email her at writerGoodGod@gmail.com.