You must have a ticket to ride (that time I got kicked off a tram in Prague)
I thought about using the title "That Time I Got Arrested in Prague," but being arrested is not actually what happened, but it does make for a more dramatic title. Here is the real story.
In 1996 I traveled to Europe with the Shorter University (then Shorter College) Chorale. The choir sang in wonderful venues in Austria, Germany, and the Czech Republic. While we were in Prague, we had time to explore the ancient city and take in the beautiful architecture and history.
After a full day of exploration, the day grew short, and we realized that it was getting close to the time we needed to be back at the hotel to prepare for the next event. We could have walked back, but the fastest way was to use public transportation. The problem was that we did not know how or where to purchase tickets to ride. We had been told that tram tickets were sold in many of the shops but not knowing the language meant we were not able to read the signs or ask for directions to find a shop that sold tickets. Our inability to read signs, along with feeling pressed for time, led us to make a very poor decision. Without much forethought or planning, we got on the tram without a ticket.
I do not know what we thought would happen. I guess we were all hoping that no one would notice, and we could make the short trip without any consequences. At first, our ill-conceived plan seemed to work. We got on the tram, passed by the machine that received the tickets without putting anything in, and took our seats. The driver did not confront us, the other passengers said nothing to us, and we all held our breath that we could make it to our destination before our deception was exposed. All seemed well as we stopped at the first stop then pulled away. Our anxiety seemed to abate all the more as we got closer to our hotel. Then at one of the last stops before our destination stern looking men stepped on the tram and immediately made their way towards us.
These men were not in uniform, but they did have badges and seemed to be very serious. They approached us and demanded that we exit the tram. When we were off the tram, they demanded our passports which we fearfully handed over. None of us were older than 21. All of us were scared. My mind raced with all the terrible ways this situation could turn out. After these men examined our passports, they demanded a fine of 200 Czech Koruna. I was so relieved that we were not being arrested or going to jail that I gladly paid the fine, with little concern for how much the 200 CZK was worth in US dollars. We all paid our fines quickly. As soon as the men collected our money, they stepped back on the tram, the doors closed, and off it went, leaving us 200 CZK poorer but glad to be walking back to our hotel freely.
Recently I ran into a college friend who was part of this delinquent group of free riders. We reminisced about the experience, and he even shared some details I had long forgotten. As we both laughed about this shared experience from our youth, I found it interesting that we both remembered two specific details about the experience. We both remembered the amount of the fine and being left by the tram.
The fine and being excluded from riding the tram were both consequences for trying to steal a free ride. We would have been free to ride the tram anywhere throughout the city if we had purchased a ticket (which would have been much less expensive than 200 CZK). But without a ticket, we were imposters, freeloaders, and unworthy of riding. Purchasing a ticket, earning a credential, identifying as a citizen, and joining a group as a member are all things that separate and identify. These things separate those who are rightfully a part of something from those who are not.
This fundamental understanding is under attack today. In general, the affinity for membership in clubs and organizations that the generation of my grandparents enjoyed has long been in decline. But today, there seems to be more than just a disinterest in joining clubs and organizations but an active effort to obscure the meaning of things like membership and citizenship. In political circles, some suggest that recognizing, defending, and prioritizing one’s citizenship should be diminished while advocating and celebrating the idea that we are all citizens of the world. In the church world, some have suggested that the idea of church membership is no longer needed. Worship attendance is celebrated, but there is little effort to distinguish between a member and a casual attendee.
Such ideas may seem attractive in the abstract but when they are employed they prove untenable. When I fly on a commercial airline, I would find no comfort in the idea that anyone who liked the idea of being a pilot was encouraged to fly the plane. My peace of mind comes from the assurance that the pilot has earned the credentials of a pilot’s license and has proven his ability many times before I fly on his plane. Likewise, when I go to the doctor or have surgery, I would find no comfort in the idea that surgeons were anyone who liked to wear a lab coat and had a passing interest in human anatomy. My trust in my doctor comes from the assurance that she has completed and passed the rigors of medical school and has proven her ability and knowledge many times before she performs a procedure on me. From the most serious activity, like flying a commercial airliner, to the most mundane, like purchasing a ticket to ride a public tram, knowing who should and should not be allowed to participate is fundamentally important for our world to function.
These also point to an eternally important distinction. Is your name written in the Lamb’s book of life? John is clear in his revelation that only those whose names are in the book are welcomed into heaven, and those whose names are not found in the book are eternally condemned.
“And if anyone’s name was not found written in the book of life, he was thrown into the lake of fire.” (Revelation 20:15, ESV)
In our present context, where the distinctions of membership and citizenship are seen as passé, any discussion of a book of names or a list of those who are accepted seems equally out of sync with the celebrated ideals of our day. And it may be so, but that does not negate its truth or the consequence of disregarding it.
Paul, writing to the Romans, quotes the prophet Isaiah when he writes: “Whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed.” What a glorious promise of the sureness of salvation to all who believe. Yet John makes clear that salvation is not universal in that only those whose names are written in the book of life will be saved from the horrors of hell. Salvation is available to all but not all will be saved.
Presently, it seems that when many talk about heaven or being saved, it is devoid of any understanding of how one is saved. The secular world speaks of heaven as the place where nice people go, successful people go, or a reward for just about anything. Any entertainment of the reality of hell is reserved only for the vilest of criminals. Yet an honest student of scripture cannot ignore that heaven is only for those who are in the book and whose names are on the list. So how is someone’s name written in the book? Paul makes that very clear in Romans 10:9:
“if you confess with your mouth that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For with the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved.” (Romans 10:9–10, ESV)
Through believing faith in Jesus, He writes your name is in His book, and the gates of heaven are open to you. Without it, you are an imposter, freeloader, and unworthy of standing before the throne of God. When that tram in Prague pulled away without me, I knew that I had no right to be on it in the first place. I did not have a ticket. My name was not in the book. That experience cost me 200 CZK and a long walk home. Not having your name in the Lamb’s book of life will cost you eternally more dearly. Heaven is real. Salvation is available, but you must have your name in the book.
