Thursday, April 13, 2017

Choose Wisely

Choose Wisely - Audio/Visual

Choose Wisely

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 part 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 19th century. Debuting in Richard III at the tender age of fifteen, he quickly established himself as a premier Shakespearean actor. When it came to performing tragedy on stage, Edwin Thomas was in a very select group. 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 fame and 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 nation some 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 State Box in Washington’s Ford 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 fateful night. Shame from his brother’s crime drove him into an early retirement. 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 just rescued. That knowledge would come 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 Booth 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? And although their story may seem rather dramatic, it’s not unique. For instance, Cain and Abel were both the 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. And Peter and Judas both denied their lord, but Peter sought mercy while Judas sought death – and God let him.

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 ever 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? Because the two thieves had a lot in common, didn’t they? They were convicted by the same system; condemned to the same death; surrounded by the same crowd; and 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 his tune, suggesting that they deserved to be punished, but not Jesus – he’d done nothing wrong.

A lot has been said over the years about the penitent thief. But what about the other guy? Wouldn’t a personal invitation have been appropriate? Wouldn’t a word of persuasion been timely, especially given the circumstances? 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 Jesus’ trilogy – Luke 15) does nothing. Why? Maybe it’s because the sheep was lost innocently, and the coin was lost irresponsibly. But the prodigal son? He left intentionally. The father had given his son the choice, and Jesus gave the criminals the same.

There are times in life 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. That’s an honor, because in so many areas of life we don’t have a choice, do we? For instance, we didn’t choose our gender, our siblings, our race, or our place of birth. And, let’s face it – sometimes that lack of choice is upsetting. “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, today, man is suffering the consequences of that choice. It’s called sin.

In the Hebrew Old Testament, the generic word for sin is het, which means to err, or to miss the mark. It doesn’t 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." 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 our mark. And would you want it any other way?

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 cafeteria. “I’ll take a scoop of good health and high IQ, please. No, I’ll pass on the music skills, but give me an extra helping 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 do have a choice. And that seems like a pretty good deal because, in the final analysis, 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. For instance, think about the thief who repented. We don’t know a lot about him, but we know this: he made some pretty bad choices 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.

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 of those bad choices.” Well, the good news is that you can. One good choice for eternity will offset a million bad ones made on earth. And the choice is yours to make.

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. But 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

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