Chosen One
"The people stood watching, and the rulers even sneered at him. They said, 'He saved others; let him save himself if he is God’s Messiah, the Chosen One.'" (Luke 23:35 NIV)
When I was in elementary school, I had a friend who had some sort of hidden medical condition that gave her a permanent pass from gym class. I was sorry for whatever her issue was but deeply envious of her gym excuse.
Except for when we did the gymnastics and running units, I hated and dreaded gym class. I had (and have) no hand-eye coordination, so any sport that required my hand or an extension thereof (racket, stick, bat) to make contact with a ball was a source of humiliation. Worst of all was when teams were chosen. (And someone please tell me this relic of childhood emotional trauma has been done away with in modern gym classes?) My classmates and I stood in our lines, all of us thinking, "Pick me! Pick me!" I was always one of the last to be chosen.
Jesus, on the other hand, was the first to be chosen.
God the Father chose His best to do His most important work: save the world.
But in this job, the Chosen One still had a choice. Wearing His robe of human skin, Jesus was given the same free will as the rest of humanity, the same choice: to do Abba's bidding or not.
He could have chosen to serve Himself. He could have chosen to save Himself. He could have chosen to speak for Himself.
But instead, Jesus chose to serve and save and remain silent amid the taunts of His tormentors. And in that choosing, He chose us: our salvation, our freedom, our eternity, our hope, our joy.
We are all standing on a line with the rest of humanity, pleading, "Pick me! Pick me!" Jesus is team captain, but He knows His is already the winning team. He wants us on it. He doesn't care what other people think of us. He doesn't care if we're any good at the game. He looks at us with tenderness and love and says, "I choose you."
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Song suggestion: "Who You Say I Am;" Hillsong Worship; songwriters Ben Fielding, Reuben Morgan; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lKw6uqtGFfo.
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I'd love to hear from you! Feel free to tell me what you really think. Years ago, I explained to my then-two-year-old that my appointment with a counselor was "sort of like going to a doctor who will help me be a better mommy." Without blinking, she replied, "You'd better go every day." All of which is just to say I've spent some time in the school of brutal honesty!