Monday, March 30, 2009

Apples

A few years ago a group of salesmen attended a regional sales convention in Chicago. They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for their Friday night dinner. In their rush, with tickets and briefcases in hand, one of the salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table that supported a display of baskets full of apples. Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they continued to the gateway managing to reach the plane in time for the call for boarding. That is, all but one. This fellow stopped, being overcome with a deep sense of compassion for the girl whose fruit stand that had just been overturned. He told his buddies to go on without him; that he was going back to help, calling to one of them to phone his wife when they arrived at their destination and explain the situation, that he would take a later flight. Then he backtracked inside the terminal to the scene of the capsized fruit stand. And he was certainly glad he did: for upon his return he discovered that the proprietor of the apple stand was a 16 year old girl -- and she was completely blind! Tears ran down her cheeks: she was frustrated at her dilemma, helplessly groping to retrieve the spilled produce that lay scattered on the floor of the terminal. The crowd swirled about her, no one stopping to help; no one caring for her plight. The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathering the apples, putting them back into the baskets. He restored the display along with the apples to their former state. As he did so, he noticed that many of the apples had been bruised; these he separated and placed in a basket to themselves. When he had finished the task, he brought forth his wallet and said to the girl, “Here, please take this $20.00 for the damage we did. Are you okay?” She nodded, yes. He continued: “I hope we didn’t spoil your day too badly.” As the salesman was walking away, the bewildered girl called out to him, “Mister. . .” He stopped and turned, looking back into her sightless eyes. “Mister. . .are you Jesus?” Speechless, he made his way to the ticket counter to arrange for the late flight home. . with that question burning inside him: “Are you Jesus?”

        Has anyone ever mistook you for Jesus? A foolish question you say? Really? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, His mercy and grace? If we claim to know Him, then we should live, walk, and conduct ourselves in a manner consistent with His. A tall order. But you and I may be the only glimpse of Jesus that someone may ever have. And knowing Him is more than simply quoting scripture and attending church. It’s actually living the Word as life is unfolded day by day.

        You are the “apple of His eye.” Once, as fruit put on display, man toppled to his ruin; he was bruised unto death. But Jesus came to where we were, drew us to Himself, picked us up - even as we were damaged fruit that should by all that is reasonable, be cast out. And he paid full price for that which was spoiled, bruised and broken at a place called Calvary. Let’s start living like we are worth the price he paid.

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