Exporting Salvation

June 25, 2018

When we first shook hands on the deal, we never imagined it would be this complicated. After all, we buy and sell vehicles all the time. Negotiate a price, money exchanges hands, the title is signed over, and each party is on their way. Except when you cross an international border. At that moment, things get sticky. We didn’t know that back then. When I showed my friend Grant a photo of my ‘74 ironhead hardtail Sportster, he almost drooled, and when I told him it was for sale, he wasted no time. I had barely named my price, when he said, “I’ll buy it!” Enthusiastic would be putting it mildly. 

Grant crafts knives. He doesn’t make knives; he creates works of art when he’s not playing music in one or another bands in his area. His area, by the way, is Wilno, Ontario, Canada, about five hours northeast of Toronto. We met him years ago while vacationing in the area. Tuesday night is blues night at the Wilno Tavern, and my sons and I had gone to listen to the music. The house was SRO, the music was great, and while we stood against one wall listening, son Matt ripped a business card off the cork board. Fraser Knives. We called him up, we visited the next day, and Matt was hooked. From the internet,  he learned how to make a forge, and each summer’s vacation, he would take samples of his latest work for Grant to critique. Finally the day came when Grant said, “I can’t teach you any more,” and Matt was off and running. Which is more than I can say for the bike.

Between the time we made the deal and today were a couple lean years for Grant’s knifemaking. Last spring he sent me the money for the bike, and last summer I took it up to him. Only then did we learn the finer points of the import-export business. I had to make another trip up north to pick it up and bring it back across the border, just the small matter of some minor international legalities. Grant was unable to meet me at the border, so for a full year, I had both the money and the bike. I decided it was time to rectify the situation, and today was the day.

Last week, I made the proper arrangements, which included setting up an export business, complete with business numbers, making arrangements with a broker to file the paperwork with the government, then waiting 72 hours minimum before bringing it across the border. I was assured that everything would go just fine, and it did...till I stopped at Canadian customs. The border agent with whom I talked insisted that Grant had to come to the border in person to sign the papers, which wasn’t going to happen. I was about to give up and turn around when another agent assured me that if I took the paperwork to him, he could do what he needed to do at any time.

An hour later, I was on my way, and six hours later, we unloaded the bike in his front yard. All this got me to thinking. Border crossings can be difficult, and importing or exporting even more so. The biggest and most significant border crossing I can think of was when God sent his Son across the border from heaven to earth. That crossing was not without incident. Born in poverty, Jesus was immediately the target of hostile attention that lasted from birth to death. But God much as I finally exported that old bike into Canada, God exported salvation into this world successfully. He did all that was necessary when Jesus died on the cross for our sins. But there is one more step. 

Grant will at some point have to take the paperwork to the proper authorities in Canada, and register the bike in his name. He has the title, but won’t be able to fully enjoy the benefits that title gives until he himself takes action on it. In much the same way, the salvation God offers us is genuinely ours, but until we do our part of receiving it and publicly claiming Christ for ourselves, that salvation cannot be fully enjoyed. Grant will do a lot of work on that bike before it is useable. If he doesn’t take that final step of going before the authorities with the paperwork, he will have expended a lot of energy for a showpiece bike that can’t be ridden.

There are a lot of people who work hard at their religion, but all they have to show for it is a bunch of spiritual bruised knuckles. They can’t enjoy the full benefit of God’s salvation export because they haven’t taken that final step of fully making it their own. God did his part; now comes our turn. It’s not about the work we put into it, but instead it’s a matter of receiving by faith what he has given to us in Christ. When we do, we find that he has given us a ride like no other.