Choices

Choices

      There were also two criminals led out with Jesus to be put to death. When they came to a place called the Skull, the soldiers crucified Jesus and the criminals – one on his right and the other on his left … 

     One of the criminals on a cross began to shout insults at Jesus: “Aren’t you the Christ? Then save yourself and us.”

     But the other criminal stopped him and said, “You should fear God! You are getting the same punishment he is. We are punished justly, getting what we deserve for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  

     Jesus said to him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in            paradise.”  (Luke 23:32-33, 39-43)

During the latter half of the 1800’s, Edwin Thomas had few professional rivals. Standing a modest 5’6”, but blessed with a huge baritone voice, he’s still considered by most theatrical historians as the greatest American actor, and the greatest Hamlet, of the 19^th century. Debuting in Richard III at the tender age of fifteen, he quickly established himself as a premier Shakespearean actor. In New York, he performed Hamlet for 100 consecutive nights, a record that stood for almost sixty years until 1922 when John Barrymore broke Edwin’s streak by playing the title character in 101 consecutive performances. And in London, Edwin won the approval of the notoriously tough British critics. In short, when it came to performing tragedy on stage, Edwin Thomas was in a very select group, indeed. Unfortunately, when it came to experiencing tragedy in life, the same could be said as well.

Edwin had two brothers, John and Junius. Both were actors, although neither rose to Edwin’s stature. But, in 1863, the three brothers decided to unite their talents and perform Julius Caesar. The fact that Edwin’s brother, John, took the role of Marc Antony was, perhaps, a harbinger of what awaited the brothers – and the nation – two years later. You see, John, who played the role of the assassin’s victim in Julius Caesar, is the same John who became the real-life assassin at Ford’s Theatre when, on a crisp April night in 1865, he quietly stole into the rear of the box in the Washington theatre and fired a bullet at the head of Abraham Lincoln. Yes, the last name of the brothers was Booth – Edwin Thomas Booth and John Wilkes Booth.

Edwin was never the same after that night. Shame from his brother’s crime drove him into an early retirement of sorts. And he might never have returned to the stage had it not been for a strange twist of fate at a Jersey City train station.

Edwin was waiting for his train when a well-dressed young man, jostled by the crowd, lost his balance and fell between the railroad platform and an approaching train. Without hesitation, Edwin locked a leg around a railing, grabbed the man by his collar, and snatched him to safety. After sighs of relief, the young man immediately recognized the famous face of Edwin Booth. Edwin, however, didn’t recognize the young man that he’d rescued. That knowledge came a few months later in a letter. The letter was from a friend of Edwin’s, Col. Adam Badeau, who was chief secretary to General Ulysses S. Grant. The letter was sent to thank Edwin for saving the life of the child of an American hero, Abraham Lincoln. How ironic that while one brother killed the President, the other brother saved the President’s son, Robert Todd Lincoln.

Edwin Thomas and John Wilkes Booth. Same father, same mother, same upbringing, same education, same training, same profession, same passion. Yet, one chose life, while the other chose death. How could that happen? I don’t know, but it does. And although their story may seem rather dramatic, it’s not unique – not by a long-shot. Don’t believe me? Well, here are just a few examples.

Cain and Abel were both sons of Adam and Eve, but Abel chose God and Cain chose murder – and God let him. Abraham and Lot were both pilgrims in Canaan, but Abraham chose God and Lot chose Sodom – and God let him. David and Saul were both kings of Israel, but David chose God while Saul chose power – and God let him. Peter and Judas both denied their lord, but Peter sought mercy while Judas sought death – and God let him.

You see, in every age of history, and on every page of the Bible, the simple truth is revealed: God allows us to make our own choices. In fact, no one makes that clearer than Jesus himself. In Matthew 7:13-14, Jesus talks about a number of choices we can make: a narrow gate versus a wide gate; a narrow road versus a wide road; the big crowd versus the small crowd. All of them, choices. And, we can choose to build on rock or sand (Matt. 7:24-27), serve God or riches (Matt. 6:24), or choose to be a sheep or a goat. (Matt. 25:32-33) God gives us eternal choices, and these choices have eternal consequences.

Ever thought about why there were two crosses next to Christ? I mean, why not six, or ten, or a dozen or more? And if you’ve actually thought about that, have you then wondered why Jesus was in the center? Why not on the far right, or far left, instead? Maybe this is a stretch, but could it be that the crosses on either side of the savior symbolized God’s gift of choice? Now, before you think I’ve gone just a little too far, keep reading.

The two thieves had a lot in common. They were convicted by the same system; they were condemned to the same death; they were surrounded by the same crowd; and they were equally close to Jesus. In fact, they even began with the same sarcasm: “The two criminals also said cruel things to Jesus.” (Matt. 27:44) But then, one of the thieves changed:

One of the criminals on a cross began to shout insults at Jesus: “Aren’t you the Christ? Then save yourself and us.” But the other criminal stopped him and said, “You should fear God! You are getting the same punishment he is. We are punished justly, getting what we deserve for what we did. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus said to him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)

Now, a lot has been said about the penitent thief, but what about the other guy? “What about him, Jesus? Wouldn’t a personal invitation have been appropriate? Wouldn’t a word of persuasion been timely, especially given the circumstances?” I mean, doesn’t the shepherd leave the ninety-nine sheep and pursue the one, lost sheep? And doesn’t the housewife sweep the house until the lost coin is found? Yes, the shepherd pursues and the housewife sweeps, but the father of the prodigal (the last “lost” parable in the sequence) does nothing. Why? Well, maybe it’s because the sheep was lost innocently, and the coin was lost irresponsibly. But the prodigal son, on the other hand, left intentionally. And the father gave the prodigal son the choice. Jesus gave the criminals the same.

There are times when it feels like God has sent thunder to stir us up, or times when God showers us with his blessings to draw us to him. But then there’s those times when God sends nothing but silence as he honors us with the freedom to choose where we spend eternity. What an honor, don’t you think? I mean, in so many areas of life we don’t have a choice, do we? For instance, we didn’t choose our gender, our siblings (if we have any), our race, or our place of birth. And, let’s face it; sometimes that lack of choice really angers us. “It’s not fair,” we say. It’s not fair that I was born in poverty, or that I sing poorly, or that I run so slowly. All that changed, however, in the Garden of Eden. Man made a choice, and it wasn’t for God. And man is suffering the consequences of that choice. It’s called sin.

The word sin derives from the Old English word, synn, recorded in use as early as the 9th century. The same root appears in several other Germanic languages, e.g., Old Norse, synd, or German, Sunde. But in the Hebrew Old Testament, the generic word for sin is het, which means to err, or to miss the mark. It does not mean to do evil. The Greek word, hamartia, is usually translated as sin in the New Testament, and in classical Greek it means to "miss the mark," or "to miss the target."

Missing the target. In Greek times, archery competitions would be conducted by giving each competitor ten arrows and then drawing a circle on a far-away object. Each archer would draw back his bow and, arrow after arrow, attempt to place his arrow inside the circle. However, even if an archer were to place nine of his arrows inside the circle, but miss with his last, he was said to have sinned, i.e., he "missed the mark."

In the same way, we all sin. We all miss the target. (Rom. 3:23) We all miss the mark of God's perfection. But we do have a choice in the matter, because we've all been given a life and allowed the opportunity to make a mark. And would you want it any other way? I mean, would you have preferred the opposite? You choose everything in this life, and God chooses where you spend the next? You choose the size of your nose, the color of your hair, your sex, your height, your weight, and God chooses where you spend eternity? Is that what you'd prefer?

Granted, it would have been nice if God had let us order life like ordering a meal at a smorgasbord. "I'll take good health and a high IQ, but I'll pass on the music skills. However, give me a big portion of fast metabolism!" That would've been nice, but that's not what happened. When it came to life on earth, you weren't given a voice or even a vote, for that matter.

But when it comes to life after death, you've got a choice. Seems like a pretty good deal to me. Wouldn't you agree? Honestly, have we been given any greater privilege than that of choice? Not only does this privilege offset any injustice, but the gift of free will can offset any mistakes. Really? Yes, really, and here's why.

 Think about the thief who repented. We don't know a lot about him, but we know this: he made some pretty bad mistakes in life. He chose the wrong crowd, the wrong morals, and the wrong behavior. But would you consider his life a waste? Is he spending eternity reaping the fruit of all the bad choices he made? No, just the opposite. He's enjoying the fruit of the one good choice he made. In the end, all of his bad choices were  redeemed by one good choice.

And we've all made bad choices in life. We've chosen the wrong friends, the wrong car, the wrong way, or maybe even the wrong career. We look back over the years of our life and say, "If only ...." "If only  I could make up for all those bad choices." Well, you can. One good choice for eternity offsets a million bad ones made on earth - and the choice is yours to make.

So, how can two brothers be born of the same mother, grow up in the same home, and one chooses life while the other chooses death? I don't know, but they did. Or, how could two men see the same Jesus and one choose to mock him and the other choose to pray to him? I don't know that either, but they did. And when one prayed, Jesus loved him enough to save him. And when the other mocked him, Jesus loved him enough to let him.

It's your choice. Choose wisely.

Grace,

Randy