Originally scheduled for September 21
I once knew a rich man. He was not rich because
he inherited a lot of money; he pursued the money all his life and
eventually became rich. He was very proud of this; and because of
his pride he had certain ways of letting you know that he was a rich
One was by his actions. He enjoyed
playing the patriarch of the clan, and as part of this he would
always reach for the check at dinner. It was his way of reminding
you that such an expense was trivial to him.
Another was by his possessions. He
was very pleased to have a Cadillac. In his particular case this was
his only ostentatious possession. Other rich men seem to be affected
by such things as the bling around the neck, the trophy wife on the
arm or the second house in Palm Springs.
That is the way of a rich man — who wants more.
Compare that, if you please, with the rich man who literally has it
all: Jesus Christ. He is the creator and sustainer of the universe;
everything in it is his by right of creation. Yet when you read of
this in the Bible, it seems so matter of fact. He is the creator and
sustainer; no further comment seems to be necessary.
Indeed, when Paul talks about the “unfathomable
riches of Christ” (Ephesians 3:8) he is talking about the love and
mercy of God. It is as if planets, stars and galaxies were trivial.
After all, planets don’t last forever; human beings are designed to
be eternal. As Oswald Chambers once said, “When we choose
deliberately to obey Him, then He will tax the remotest star and the
last grain of sand to assist us with all His almighty power.” And
yet, this is not considered as remarkable as his love for you and
for me. He places his focus on his love, and the sacrifice which he
made in response to that love and our situation.
Despite all the power and glory of being the
author and sustainer of the universe, Jesus became a man like one of
us. Not particularly a rich man, or a highly born one — in fact, he
was the son of a peasant girl. He knows what it is to live in
poverty. Perhaps that is why he invites you to remember his
sacrifice with one of the simplest meals possible. The bread,
representing his body, and the cup, representing his blood, are
given to us so that we might remember what he did on the Cross. In
remembering his sacrifice we contemplate his love. In contemplating
his love for us, we grow closer to him.
He has made the greatest sacrifice possible,
for us. He did this out of his love. And now he asks that you
remember him in this ceremonial meal — so that he might continue to
pour out his love upon you as you grow closer to him. As you
meditate upon this bread and cup remember what a sinner you are —
and what a Savior he is.