This is the sixth blog in my series, The Jude Appeal; written with the hope that we will be a renewed generation of Christians who turn their hearts to pen stories with God!

Jude’s last personal appeal to Christians in his letter completes the over-arching purpose of his letter, urging them to contend for the faith entrusted to the saints.

“Be merciful to those who doubt; snatch others from the fire and save them; to others show mercy mixed with fear, hating even the clothing stained by corrupted flesh” (Jude 22-23).

We’ve previously chatted about biblical mercy. To render support, enablement, aid, or strength to one afflicted or seeking aid.

The adjoining appeal now is, “Be afraid, lest you be defiled by the wickedness of those whom you are rescuing!”

The apostle James echoes this admonition in his epistle: “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is…to keep one’s self from being polluted by the world” (1:27).

The temptations to become polluted by the world in our stories – so that we come across as more merciful, tolerant, or relatable  – are very strong and often subtle. While it may look like slight adaptations of words or the addition of certain actions, it can lead to exclusion of God and His Word entirely. And where He is excluded, the power to overcome temptation is missing. While it may look like the addition of hard things and tainted experiences, it can lead to the destruction of innocence of evil and excusing of sin entirely. And where sin is tolerated, even in the mind, the enemy gets a foothold.

The spiritual battle is real and Jude’s warning to us is to fear. We should lean much more toward fearing God and hating evil. Because we love God. “Let those who love the Lord hate evil, for He guards the lives of His faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked” (Psalm 97:10).

How does this look in writing? Consider an example from Creator’s Call (by Costas Ioannou).

After Volitari tries to kill him, Edward discovers that his “friend” is a tool of the villain, controlled by the flesh (represented by a stone). Edward sympathizes with the man, knowing this captivity from experience, then shares the good news of the Deliverer with Volitari.

Edward takes the stone from Volitari, to free him from its hold, yet it throbs with temptation for the hero. Edward fights a hard battle, but he finally throws the stone out of sight and neither man searches for it again. Had Edward not been attuned to the Holy Spirit’s directives, he would have been defiled while saving a soul. Instead, he triumphs in the Deliverer.

Showing mercy in our writings, especially to lost ones, doesn’t mean we fail to show sin as sin. It doesn’t mean our stories are completely full of goodness. It means that mercy is combined with a healthy sense of our own frailties. We tend to stray, to wander, to backslide. That is, apart from God.

In all our writing, we must look to Jesus. “For we do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who was tempted in every way, yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence so we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

Is your book showing mercy mixed with fear?