Columbian author Hernando Téllez wrote a short story entitled Espuma y nada mas or Just Lather; Nothing More. It is the story of a life-defining event for a small town barber during one of the many Latin-American revolutions. This barber is a clandestine revolutionary, dedicated to the overthrow of the current tyrannical government. One day the officer in charge of the local government garrison comes into the barbershop for a haircut and shave. As the officer sits down in the chair, the barber begins a complex and convoluted dialog in his own mind about what to do. On the one hand, this is a great opportunity to simply slit the throat of this cruel man who had just the previous night executed several of the barber’s fellow revolutionaries. On the other hand, to do so would be clearly unprofessional, for the barber took great pride in the fact that in all of his years in the profession he had never even nicked one of his customers. On one hand to eliminate this man would be for the greater good of society in general, but on the other hand he, the barber, was a clandestine revolutionary and killing the officer would blow his cover. What should he do? The story continues along these lines with the officer telling the barber about some of his barbarous acts and the barber arguing with himself about the best course of action. Ultimately, the story ends with the barber finishing the haircut and shave, and as the officer gets up to leave he lets the barber know that he knows the barber was part of the revolutionary movement and that he had missed a great opportunity. At that point the barber realizes that when it came down to it, his role as a revolutionary was espuma y nada mas, just lather; nothing more.
Does this story describe our spiritual lives? Are they really more lather than substance? Sadly, too often they are. As I stated in my previous article, what we do best is justify our own mediocrity. Just as the barber slowly but surely talked himself out of acting on the greatest opportunity he would ever have as a revolutionary, we slowly and effectively build a model of faith that may look good, but lacks the substance to really make a difference in our own lives, much less in the lives of others. My purpose in the next several articles will be to expose a few of the facades of our mediocrity and to propose more substantial ways to live out our relationship with God. The next five articles will be:
- In the Still, Small Voice (1 Kings 19:11-13)
- The Proof Is In the Power (Matthew 11:4-5)
- Is It the Right Way? (Proverbs 14:12)
- Religion Pure and Undefiled (James 1:27)
- If You Don’t Hate Your Mother, You Can’t Be My Disciple (Luke 14)
Hernando Téllez’ barber would forever live with the regret of a superficial dedication to his cause. So will most Christians, including myself. I often think about what I would do if I had it to do over again. Christ did not come to redeem us to mediocrity. He did not die to simply put a Christian spin on the American dream, as David Platt would say. He did not rise again so that we could claim hollow, superficial victories that puff us up and only superficially heal the wound of his people. When addressing the issue of a superficial faith, James, in his frank and no nonsense style, asks a haunting question, “Can such a faith save him?” Of course, James’ implied answer is, “No, it cannot.” This is why the search for substance is such a desperate undertaking. The destiny of our souls depend upon what we find in Christ. May we find more than just lather.
