Rich jammed the crowbar against the rusty lock, and pried at it with all his strength. The lock creaked, but remained secure. He repositioned the pry bar and gave it another try. Again, the lock refused to budge.
“You’re not even trying,” Cody taunted his struggling friend.
“Not so loud,” Melissa warned in a hushed voice. “Someone might hear us.”
“No one is going to be in the cemetery this time of night,” said Jill.
“Just hold the light still,” Rich sneered. “I will get it opened. You’ll see.”
Rich never backed down from a dare, and he wasn’t going to start now. He was going to show his friends that he wasn’t afraid, even if it meant disrespecting a tomb.
The day before, the four friends had been chatting about death and fear. That’s when Cody dared Rich to break into a mausoleum at night. So Rich and his friends strolled through the local cemetery checking the mausoleums. In the daylight, he found the door of a white marble tomb at the back of the cemetery was old and rusted. It was likely that the door had not been opened for 20, or even 30, years.
One more time, Rich rammed the crowbar home. Then, using his weight, he wrenched the tool downward until the lock gave way with a loud crack.
“Ha! I told you I could do it,” he sneered.
Cody and the girls watched in silence as Rich shoved the door inward with the pry bar. The door hinges fought back against the intruder, squeaking as a warning that he was not welcome. His heart pounded when he peered into the thick blackness. While he tried not to show it, he was afraid of what might be awaiting him.
Rich called to Cody, “Give me the flashlight.”
With the light in one hand and the crowbar in the other, Rich stepped into the tomb. He winced as the dank, stale air rushed into his nose. He scanned the room with the light, and was surprised to find it was only a small, nearly empty space. Two coffins rested on stone pedestals, one on his right and one on his left.
Bronze name plates engraved with birth dates, and death dates were fastened to the walls above the coffins. Rich felt a twinge of guilt when he read the names. This was the final resting place of someone’s family. He considered how he would feel if some punk kid did this to his family. Pushing his feeling aside, and put on a casual look for his friends.
“Take a look if you want,” Rich called to his friends, but when he turned around, all three were already crowded at the doorway peering in.
He won the dare, but before sneaking back into the night, Rich closed the door and put the broken lock back in place.
“I’ve had enough for tonight,” said Melissa. “I’m going home.”
“Me too,” said Jill.
“See you later,” Rich said. “Come on Cody, let’s go back to my house. We still have time to play video games.”
When the boys reached Rich’s house, a voice called from the kitchen. “What have you and Cody been up too?” Rich’s mother asked.
“Nothing. We were at the mall with Melissa and Jill,” Rich found it easy to lie. His parents had no reason to question him, probably because he got good grades in school, and attended church regularly. In fact he volunteered at the church whenever he was asked. The youth pastor often praised him for his hard work.
As Rich untangled the cords to his video monitor, Cody sat at his friend’s desk. Lying next to a Bible and a stack of textbooks, Cody noticed a paper that looked familiar. “Is this your science test?” Cody asked with surprise. The number 94 was written in red ink in the upper corner. “How did you get a 94 on the test? It was super hard!”
Just then, the monitor screen came to life, displaying the game logo. “I have my ways,” said Rich. “Come on. Do you want to play, or talk about science tests?”
Sunday morning, Rich automatically bowed his head and closed his eyes as the band finished a familiar praise song, and the guitarist led the congregation in a short prayer. Next, the pastor stood at the front and suggested everyone open their Bibles to Mathew chapter 23.
Rich looked up the passage and half listened as the pastor began to read. Then the pastor read verse 27, “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of the bones of the dead and everything unclean.”
Rich looked up suddenly at the pastor. He expected Pastor Jim to be staring back at him, but the pastor’s eyes were on his Bible. “Why is he reading this verse?” Rich wondered. “Did he know that I was in the cemetery proving to my friends that I wasn’t afraid just two nights ago?”
A strange wave of guilt came over Rich. He felt like God was speaking directly to him. He had recently stood inside a tomb, but more than that, his life had become like that of the Pharisees. Besides breaking into a sacred place, he had lied to his family and friends, and cheated on tests in school. A list of other sins flooded his mind.
From the outside Rich appeared to be straight as an arrow, but inside it was a different story. Feeling ashamed, Rich closed his eyes as the pastor spoke, but this time he meant business. “Lord forgive me I have sinned so many times. I’ve become a whitewashed tomb. Please forgive me and make me clean on the inside.”
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For Discussion
Read Matt 23:27 again.
Why was Jesus so harsh with the Pharisees? (Hint: they were leaders).
Everyone sins. What is the difference between the average person and someone being a “whitewashed tomb”?
Is your life on the inside the same as what people see on the outside?
What are some thing you can do to keep yourself from becoming a “whitewashed tomb’?