Dying for a Stranger

This post is a message that was shared at the Fresh Wind food pantry.

A fallen soldier carried by comrades, WW1

Would you die for a stranger?

At first, that question raises a flood of others. Who is this stranger? Why would it be necessary? What would it cost me? But if we strip it down and take it at face value—yes or no—what would your answer be?

For many in our country, we already know the answer. The men and women who wear the uniform of the military live it out daily. They put their lives on the line, not only for their families or communities, but for people they have never met. For strangers who may not share their values, beliefs, or way of life—yet they defend them all the same.

By their service, their actions declare: “I would die for a stranger.”

Would You Die for a Stranger?

It’s a common fantasy, especially online—men joking about how they’d lay down their lives to protect their families and friends. Memes play on the idea, half in jest, half in hope of being the hero in a moment of crisis.

But when fantasy becomes reality, how many could truly stand in the gap?

On July 26, 2025, that question was tested in Traverse City. A man went on a stabbing spree at a Walmart, wounding 11 people. By the grace of God, no lives were lost, though several spent time in the ICU—including the attacker himself, who was stopped when a few courageous men stepped between him and the innocent. Out of respect for the privacy they've requested, I won’t share their names.

I can only imagine the thought that must have flashed across their minds: “I may die today.” Even with two of them armed, survival was far from certain. Adrenaline and tunnel vision may have carried them forward; they may not have had the faculties to even consider their own safety due to the panic. The reality is that their actions from that day speak, "I would die for a stranger."

Would You Die for the Guilty?

Continuing with the events of July 26—those men didn’t just protect the innocent. They also spared the guilty.

When news broke, countless people online said, “If I were there, I’d have taken the suspect’s life.” But these men didn’t. Though armed and capable, they chose restraint. In doing so, their actions declared something they may never put into words, let alone agree with: “I would die for the guilty.”

Would you die for the guilty?

Imagine this: the warden of a maximum-security prison stops you on the street. He says, “There’s a murderer on death row. He’s set to be executed this Saturday. But if you take his place in the chair, he will walk free on Sunday.”

Would you do it?

No? Didn’t think so.

What if I told you this man was changed—rehabilitated, remorseful, never to harm another soul again? He planned to be charitable with his time and money, tending to the needy. Still, would you take his place?

Of course not. Why should you and I pay the price for someone else’s crimes?

Who Would Die for Us?

When we talk about the Gospel, many—even lifelong Christians—can overlook the weight of the sacrifice made on their behalf. In speaking of Jesus, we rightly praise Him for restoring what was broken: sickness healed, addictions crushed, marriages mended, relationships renewed. These stories are powerful, and they reveal His love at work in our lives. Yet the greatest testimony is not what He fixed for us, but what He endured for us. The grace flowing from the cross—the price Jesus paid—is the center of the Gospel and the most important truth we can share.

It's much easier to reason with the tangible in this life than it is to extract the intangible of eternity.

I love to share how He watched over me even when I didn’t know Him. I’ve witnessed healings with my own eyes. I’ve seen the chains of addiction shattered, marriages flourish beyond the honeymoon phase, and anxiety and depression lose their grip. He spared me from addiction and destructive choices, and He freed me from the cultural trap of pornography. I wouldn’t have the gift of my family or our homestead without Him. Yet all of these blessings pale in comparison to His greatest gift—reconciling us to the Father.

And we do NOT deserve it.

If the warden added, “This inmate you could sit in the chair for will be free on Sunday—and by Monday morning, he’ll kill again,” our response would be immediate and unanimous: “No way.” No one would volunteer for that.

And yet—that is exactly what Christ has done for us.

Because no matter how hard we try, every day we fall short of God’s perfection. Some days in small ways, other days in devastating ones—but always in ways that separate us from Him.

Romans 5:6-8

6 For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. 7 For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— 8 but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

By our standards, we may not be murderers on death row, but sin is separation. No amount of good deeds can outweigh it, as in a karmic belief system. No clever arguments can excuse it. The holy God has prepared a perfect place, and anything less than perfection would ruin it.

Praise God we are judged not by our peers when we stand before Him

So when we stand before Him, we cannot point to ourselves and our works. We point to Christ—the One who lived without sin, died in our place, and opened the way back to the Father.

And here’s the staggering truth: Jesus didn’t just die for the innocent. He died for the guilty. He died for you and me, knowing full well that we would stumble again and again, needing His grace over and over.

That brings us back to the title of this message: “Would You Die for a Stranger?” That’s not even the right question—because Jesus makes it clear that He can't be a stranger to us to receive His gift.

Matthew 7:21-23

²¹ “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. ²² On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ ²³ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’

His warning in Matthew 7 should sober us: “I never knew you; depart from me.” We cling to John 3:16, the Great Commission, and the Golden Rule—and rightly so. But perhaps the most piercing guide for the Christian life is avoiding those dreadful words: “Depart from me.”

Because to live in such a way is to press deeper into knowing Him, obeying Him, and reflecting Him—so that when that day comes, we hear instead: “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

John 17:1-5

When Jesus had spoken these words, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, “Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son that the Son may glorify you, ² since you have given him authority over all flesh, to give eternal life to all whom you have given him. ³ And this is eternal life, that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. ⁴ I glorified you on earth, having accomplished the work that you gave me to do.

It's not a vague awareness of Christ dying on the cross that saves you. It's knowing the Son and having faith in His work on the cross.

John 14:12-13

¹² “This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. ¹³ Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends..."

It's a relationship with the best friend you'll ever have. The One who laid down His life so you can spend eternity in heaven.

A Tale of Brotherly Sacrifice

In 2020, seven-year-old Bridger Walker and his three-year-old sister, Brielle, were playing at a friend’s house. In the backyard, the friend pointed to two dogs.

“That one’s nice,” he said. “But that one’s mean.”

The “mean” dog—a German Shepherd—suddenly lunged, charging straight toward the children. In an instant, Bridger moved from standing beside his sister to standing in front of her.

The dog attacked. If you've never been attacked by a large dog, I can tell you from experience that it's usually over before you understand what happened. By the time EMTs rushed him to the hospital, Bridger needed more than 90 stitches.

Bridger Walker had over 90 stitches after protecting his sister from a dog mauling

Later, when asked what went through his mind as the dog charged, Bridger gave a simple answer: “If someone has to die, it should be me.”

That’s the heart of sacrifice. A seven-year-old boy stood in the gap for his little sister, choosing her safety over his own. Now, this isn’t a one-to-one picture of the Gospel. Bridger took the blows for his sister; Christ bore your cross. Bridger’s scars mark survival; Christ’s scars mark victory. Bridger stepped in nobly to save his sister for a moment. Christ stepped in to save us for eternity.

Bridger’s scars will forever remind his sister of the day her brother stood in the gap. But Christ took on our sin, our shame, our death — and He conquered them.

So when the world asks, “Would you die for me? Would you die for the guilty?” — We can point to the cross and declare: “Someone already has!”

And because He died for us, we now live for Him. With courage. With sacrifice. With love that puts others first.

Live like the One who stood in front of you. Live like the One who said: “If someone has to die, it will be Me.”

Isaiah 53:5

⁵ But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.

Bridger, 4 years after the attack