I Am Debtor

And now, to bring to you a brief message from God's precious word, I am reading from Romans chapter 1, verses 14 and 15. I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the barbarians, both to the wise and to the unwise, so as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also. The writer of these words is the Apostle Paul, who was wholehearted and enthusiastic in everything that he did.

Even before he was saved, while he was an ardent persecutor of those who believed the gospel, not even stopping until men, women, and children were hailed into prison because of their faith in Christ, the same zeal is found in Paul after his miraculous conversion, and he has taken seriously the commission to preach the gospel which once he despised. So great was his gratitude in being delivered that he felt as though he owed to the world a great debt. I am debtor both to the Greeks and to the barbarians, both to the wise and to the unwise.

One of the first signs of true conversion is the hearty concern that others may hear the same message, and may by believing that message be brought into the same blessed state of peace and happiness. In the case of a real conversion, that interest and concern becomes greater as the years go by. How selfish would be the one who was delivered from sin's bondage by matchless grace, and that he should never proclaim the emancipating message of the gospel to others who are in like bondage? Some years ago a party of American emigrants traveled from New York to California, and were lost in the great American desert without water.

The stock began to die, the children began to die, the captain of the caravan was concerned about conditions, and early one morning before sunrise he sent scouts in every direction to search for water. One of them set out to the northwest. For hours he rode his horse without sighting water.

Toward noon, as he topped a small sand dune, he saw what looked like trees in the distance. He rode in that direction, and found an oasis around a spring that gushed out of a small rocky formation forming a pool about the size of a house. The man jumped off his horse, undressed and plunged into the pool.

He swang to the spring and drank his fill. Coming out of the water, he dried himself dressed, filled his water bags and canteens, took another long, thankful gaze, gave his horse a drink, got up into the saddle, and turned the animal back toward the party who were perishing with thirst. The sandy expanse stretched out before him, the sun was blazing, and he said to himself, It's a long way back.

There's no one in that party that belongs to me. I know my way from here. I'm going on, and let the rest look out for themselves.

You could hardly conceive of anyone being so selfish, so ungrateful, without feeling that debtorship to the others in the party. Such a man would almost be classed as a criminal. And still in comparison, what would you think of a man who had found the water of life and refused to pass it on to other sin-sick, weary, thirsty souls? We who are saved have found the oasis, the rock that was smitten for our salvation.

Shall we, can we, dare we, stand idly by and drink of that fountain without being conscious of our great debt to others who are still searching for the waters of satisfaction? We are debtors to God. We are debtors to Christ who died for us. We are debtors to the martyrs who have sealed their testimony with their own blood.

We are debtors to every servant of Christ in the past, and we are debtors to every lost soul that is out of Christ today. To the Greeks, those who represent the wisdom of this world, even they need Christ more than anyone or anything else, and the gospel of Christ is the only one thing that will fill the gap and satisfy that which is lacking in the worldly wise man. The intelligent Greeks heard the gospel, some of them believed it, and discovered that philosophy without Christ is an empty nothing.

I may be addressing an intelligent man or woman who is well advanced in the wisdom and knowledge of the philosophies of this world, and to you I must say that if you have failed to receive Christ, you are the possessor of an aching void, a something is lacking, or perhaps I should more correctly say, a someone is lacking. I am debtor to you. You must hear of my Savior who died for us on Calvary's cross, who through his death, burial, and resurrection has made it possible for both of us to be forgiven and to become the possessors of eternal life.

I am also debtor to the barbarians, or the less cultured, the depraved, those who are scarcely classed as respectable. This class is daily increasing in numbers. I may be addressing such today, and you too must hear of my Savior who has stooped so low that he is able to pick up from the gutter of sin and offer to those who are sinners of a greater degree the same forgiveness and the same everlasting life.

If God has made me a debtor to the Greeks who are at the top of the ladder of wisdom, and to the barbarians who are at the bottom of that same ladder, then he has equally made me a debtor to all who are in between. Therefore I am a debtor to every soul who is unsaved. You dare never perish with a reasonable excuse.

You dare never say, No one brought me the message of salvation. And God forbid that you should ever be compelled to say, I heard the message, but refused to believe it. In the story of the desert caravan, if the man who found the water had gone back to the rest of the party and told them of the finding of water, and they had refused to go with him, who would have been to blame if they perished with thirst? If you should someday perish in a lost eternity, who would you blame? I ask you this searching question.

Who would you blame? I am a debtor to bring Christ to you as an all-sufficient and able Savior. I present him to you as the one and only Savior you need. And this puts you on the spot or in the place of responsibility.

You must either receive him or reject him. To reject him is the most serious crime that you can ever commit. Has anyone ever loved you to the extent that Christ has loved you? Did anyone else die in your stead and make propitiation for your sins? Does not the manifestation of his love demand your recognition? Did you ever stop to thank him for dying for you? Have you taken him as your hiding place, as your shelter for time and eternity? In presenting Christ to you, I have paid my debt, and if you choose to reject him, and not another Christian ever presents Christ to you again, I will be guiltless and you will be guilty.

Guilty of rejecting God's free offer of mercy and pardon, and that, my friend, is a very serious offense against the Holy God. The gospel that Paul preached to the Greeks and to the barbarians was far more than a code of ethics. It was not an appeal to reformation.

It was a message of life, and it produced a permanent change in the lives of the Greeks who believed the gospel. It also produced a radical change in the lives of the barbarians who believed the message of salvation. There is no other message quite so powerful as is the gospel of his grace.

No other message will produce such far-reaching effects as does the message of Christ's atoning sacrifice. The barbarians lose their idols and their wicked superstition when they come to Christ for salvation. Their old habits, their old ways, are replaced by new and wholesome habits, which are becoming to a new, born-again Christian.

All things pass away, and, behold, all things are become new. Today, while God is speaking to you, receive the Savior who has long been standing at your heart's door, hoping that you would see the wisdom of letting him in. He waits to have the opportunity to change your life completely.

He will do it the moment you will trust him as your Lord and Savior. I trust that I have faithfully discharged my responsibility, or paid my debt to you, by bringing to you the message of salvation.