I attended Saraland Elementary school as a young boy. Every year, we had a Fall Festival to raise money, complete with a cake walk, bobbing for apples, and we even had a small enclosure for a makeshift jail. 

The fifth graders were in charge of the jail. I looked forward to being a fifth grader for two or three years. Finally, I was old enough, and the teacher gave us
badges and told us we had the authority to arrest everyone. The convicts would have to pay 10 cents to be released.

I knew what to wear to the festival, because we had western shows on TV, like Gun Smoke and The Lone Ranger. Complete with dungarees, a cowboy hat and a red kerchief, I may have
looked like Opie Taylor, but I felt like “Dead Eye Timmy” going to the OK Corral. 

When I arrived at the school with my family, I was ready to make my first arrest. I saw a few teenagers walking down the sidewalk, and I sauntered up to them and said, “You are under arrest. I am taking you to jail.” They laughed, and one of them said, “You’re not taking me anywhere.” I realized this was not going to be easy. I looked at those big boys and felt more like Barney Fife than Marshall Dillon. I soon discovered grandparents were much easier to arrest.
 
You see, I was dressed like a sheriff, had a badge and had been told I could arrest anyone, but one crucial fact remained…I was not a sheriff. The Christian walk can be the same way. We can attend church, say religious cliches and even believe them ourselves, but authentic Christianity
is only found in a life lived for Jesus.

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