Demolition has gone high tech.  Gone are the days of the giant bowling ball swinging from a crane cable. Today's demolition teams are powered by hydraulic claws resembling a four-fingered fist that can clench, wrench and rip.  All of that controlled by a digital joystick. 

In downtown Chicago, I watched as the demolition operator yanked an impossibly thin piece of metal away from a building wall (like a robot with refined motor skills) before plowing into brick, steel and wood.  I've also gawked as these grippers pinched a massive chunk of cement, squeezing it into powder.  

As I stared from across the street, entire rooms were ripped open for the entire world to see.  Wall coverings, book shelves, window trim, ceiling tiles, furniture.  It was all there.  Along with mangled electrical and gas piping...doorways leading to nowhere. 

Like I say, it was interesting, but it felt almost voyeuristic: the soul of a building entirely exposed. The experience left me a bit sad and a lot sobered.

Someday our lives will similarly be opened...exposed.  Not for the purpose of destruction—but for judgment.   Romans 14:12 assures us, “So then, each of us shall give account of himself to God.”

The question, of course, is what will Christ discover in me....in you?  Will He find a soul constructed of noble thoughts, pure motives and a golden heart?  Or will He encounter the foundational rot of greed, a secret closet of immoral thoughts and the stench of selfish living?

1 Corinthians 3:12:  “Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one's work will become clear.” 

We may well look pretty good on the outside—like many a condemned building—but all that is inside will soon be revealed for what it is.

Sobering, isn't it?