(December 12, 1990)
If you were an army general and won a major victory, how would you let the whole world know? A Roman conqueror of the first century paraded both captives and loot through his home town on the way to headquarters. Even the odor of conquest hung in the air; everyone knew about his achievement.
Sometimes people call Christians “losers.” When the Apostle Paul uses the picture of a Roman conqueror to describe us, it even sounds like he meant we are losers: “Now thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ, and through us, spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of Him” (2 Cor.2:14). He pictured the warrior = Christ, leading His captives = those who lost the battle.
As a matter of fact, at one time it seemed to me the battle was myself fighting against God. I resisted His claim to my soul. However, He didn’t give in and finally I did lose the fight to Christ, and became submissive to His Lordship over me. However, that didn’t make me a loser.
There was another war going on, one that I couldn’t see. It was Jesus nose to nose with the evil one. Along with everyone else, I was the spoils of war for which they fought. Certainly, Christ won when He died for our sins and rose from the dead. Out of the battle, souls were redeemed from the grasp of the enemy. Jesus took lives as a prize, lives that Satan would have twisted and perverted for his purposes, and claimed them as His own.
Every Christian belongs to the spoils of Christ’s victory but we are not mere trophies. One version translates part of that verse: “God causes me to triumph in Christ.” Because I am in Him, I also wound up as a winner with Him. Even more, because I am in Him, I’m guaranteed the same parade route and destination He has. His heaven is my home because it is His home. “Thanks be to God...” seems an understatement for this remarkable truth.
Another verse asks, If God is for me... who can be against me? It implies that since I am on the side that has already defeated every foe, who could possibly defeat me? Does that sound like a loser?
Any thought of somehow being deprived, or that being held captive means I will go without, is answered by: “He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with Him also freely give us all things?” Again, does that sound like a loser?
Any accusation, any false guilt is also taken care of... “Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifies.” No one can stand on the sidelines and condemn me. Jesus paid for my sin when He fought to win me, so, “Who is he that condemns? It is Christ that died, yes and is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, and who also makes intercession for us.” He takes care of my sin; even it cannot defeat me.
“In all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us... Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” Nothing can! No one can take us out of the victory parade!
Everything the enemy now tries to do is like a taunting noise from the crowds, a jeering from the sidelines. I am in the procession and he has lost. His threats cannot get me back into the soiree. There is no chance of a rematch. When Jesus won, so did all who would yield to Him.
Today, whatever life dishes out, nothing can change the fact that I am in the procession. As Jesus and I go through the streets of life, some of them will be narrow; some will go through slum areas; some will have not applauding onlookers but jeering bystanders. Some will be uphill with rocks and jagged footing. Some will be paved with blood.
But the procession never changes. He leads it and will take the entire train of captives through life and eventually to His home -- where all of us “losers” will be with Him, forever.
Showing posts with label winner. Show all posts
Showing posts with label winner. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 11, 2015
Monday, June 9, 2014
Always a Winner ................................. Parables 128
Someone once said that the world is made up of three kinds of people: those who make things happen; those who watch things happen; and those who scratch their heads and say, “what happened?” The recent Gretsky hockey trade seems to dump most of us into one of those three categories!
While leaving analysis of the trade to the sports experts, I had to chuckle as the initial response came in from Los Angeles. The first day, there were only 12 phone calls into the King’s office. Only 12! Is the whole city made up of the third kind of people? But they finally woke up, built the southern California edition of the Wayne Gretsky bandwagon, and jumped on it, also leaping into the category of those who watch things happen.
Living in L.A. a few years helped me to understand their slow response. There are a lot of people down there. Many of them know very little about what is going on in the rest of the world simply because their world alone has much more happening in it than most minds can absorb.
Besides that, the competition for news is stiff. Five car pileups on the freeways hit the traffic reports, not the headlines, and only then because people want to know the quickest route home. So many things are happening that most people don’t care “what happened.”
While LA has a few spectacular event-makers, many of them don’t hold their titles very long. If their records are not soon broken by someone else doing something more spectacular, the disenchanted spectators and apathetic head-scratchers put them out for any number of other reasons.
Because of its population alone, Los Angeles certainly ranks a major center for testing superstars. There the ratings rise and fall, products come and go. Unless someone or something has the durability of John Wayne or Big Macs, LA fans have enough clout to turn thumbs down and out it goes. In other words, even great hockey players need enduring qualities to stay high in the public eye in Los Angeles.
Back in the first century, Jerusalem was the big city where superstars were tested. In those days, all eyes were one certain celebrity and few people were scratching their heads. In fact, the historians say that one Sunday, “the whole city (perhaps several hundred thousand people) went out to meet Him.” What a fan club!
At this point, no one seemed to care that He wasn’t mounted on the usual white horse of a conqueror. He rode high in their eyes for three years without that. They gathered palm branches, waved them, threw their coats for His donkey to walk on. They cheered. They called Him a King.
To those who watched things happen, Jesus was impressive, at least as long as He healed them, fed them, or made them feel good. But the leaders, who made things happen, hated Jesus because He was a pest, a monkey wrench in their system. As soon as He make demands on their “comfort zone” they incited the watchers. One week after their enthusiastic welcome, this same adoring crowd decided that this celebrity would never make a world conquering hero. Suddenly a shouting mob, they demanded, “Crucify him . . . crucify him!” They shook angry fists and spit on him. Later, as He hung on the cross they nailed Him to, they mocked saying, “He came to save others? Let him prove it by saving himself!”
Jesus wasn’t looking for a marquee or a trophy, or to prove Himself a winner to the watchers, nor is He subject to their whims. In fact, He cannot be changed by fickle homage or the abuse hurled at Him. He’s beyond the power or even the indifference of all three kinds of people.
More than a celebrity, Jesus rules the wind and the rain, the sea and the world, and all that He has made. He is the eternal Son of God, unbeatable, indestructible, He is the Death Conqueror. In rising from all that the disenchanted mob could do to Him, He gives undeniable proof that He is the ultimate “event-maker.”
Jesus, no matter how the crowds respond, remains forever a winner.
While leaving analysis of the trade to the sports experts, I had to chuckle as the initial response came in from Los Angeles. The first day, there were only 12 phone calls into the King’s office. Only 12! Is the whole city made up of the third kind of people? But they finally woke up, built the southern California edition of the Wayne Gretsky bandwagon, and jumped on it, also leaping into the category of those who watch things happen.
Living in L.A. a few years helped me to understand their slow response. There are a lot of people down there. Many of them know very little about what is going on in the rest of the world simply because their world alone has much more happening in it than most minds can absorb.
Besides that, the competition for news is stiff. Five car pileups on the freeways hit the traffic reports, not the headlines, and only then because people want to know the quickest route home. So many things are happening that most people don’t care “what happened.”
While LA has a few spectacular event-makers, many of them don’t hold their titles very long. If their records are not soon broken by someone else doing something more spectacular, the disenchanted spectators and apathetic head-scratchers put them out for any number of other reasons.
Because of its population alone, Los Angeles certainly ranks a major center for testing superstars. There the ratings rise and fall, products come and go. Unless someone or something has the durability of John Wayne or Big Macs, LA fans have enough clout to turn thumbs down and out it goes. In other words, even great hockey players need enduring qualities to stay high in the public eye in Los Angeles.
Back in the first century, Jerusalem was the big city where superstars were tested. In those days, all eyes were one certain celebrity and few people were scratching their heads. In fact, the historians say that one Sunday, “the whole city (perhaps several hundred thousand people) went out to meet Him.” What a fan club!
At this point, no one seemed to care that He wasn’t mounted on the usual white horse of a conqueror. He rode high in their eyes for three years without that. They gathered palm branches, waved them, threw their coats for His donkey to walk on. They cheered. They called Him a King.
To those who watched things happen, Jesus was impressive, at least as long as He healed them, fed them, or made them feel good. But the leaders, who made things happen, hated Jesus because He was a pest, a monkey wrench in their system. As soon as He make demands on their “comfort zone” they incited the watchers. One week after their enthusiastic welcome, this same adoring crowd decided that this celebrity would never make a world conquering hero. Suddenly a shouting mob, they demanded, “Crucify him . . . crucify him!” They shook angry fists and spit on him. Later, as He hung on the cross they nailed Him to, they mocked saying, “He came to save others? Let him prove it by saving himself!”
Jesus wasn’t looking for a marquee or a trophy, or to prove Himself a winner to the watchers, nor is He subject to their whims. In fact, He cannot be changed by fickle homage or the abuse hurled at Him. He’s beyond the power or even the indifference of all three kinds of people.
More than a celebrity, Jesus rules the wind and the rain, the sea and the world, and all that He has made. He is the eternal Son of God, unbeatable, indestructible, He is the Death Conqueror. In rising from all that the disenchanted mob could do to Him, He gives undeniable proof that He is the ultimate “event-maker.”
Jesus, no matter how the crowds respond, remains forever a winner.
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