From the August 2003 Idaho Observer:
...strange and mysterious ways
I'm not sure where I heard this, but it was in my heart today and I wanted to share it with your readers, wrote Bryan Nei as an introduction to the following story. There are times, particularly lately, when it is difficult to feel good about oneself as a member of the human race. Then there are other times when something human happens and you are reminded how blessed we are with the responsibility of choice and how we have the power, no, the authority, to choose magnificence over mundanity; compassion over barbarity. Nei's address is at the end of this choice should it be on your heart to thank him.
After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was amongst the congregation that evening.
In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt appropriate for the service. With that, the elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.
A father, his son and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific coast, he began, when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to shore. The waves were so high that, even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized.
The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story.
Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: To which boy would he throw the other end of the life line? He had only seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son's friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of the waves. As the father yelled out, 'I love you, son!' he threw the lifeline to his son's friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered.
By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old minister's mouth. The father, he continued, knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping into eternity without Jesus. Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save the son's friend. How great is the love of God that he should do the same for us. Our heavenly father sacrificed his only begotten son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept his offer to rescue you and take a hold of the lifeline he is throwing out to you in this service.
With that, the old man turned and sat back down as silence filled the room. The pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. Within minutes after the service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man's side. That was a nice story, one of them politely stated, but I don't think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son's life in hopes that the other boy would become a Christian.
Well, you've got a point there, the old man replied glancing down at his worn Bible. A big smile broadened on his narrow face. He once again looked at the boys and said, It sure isn't very realistic, is it? But I'm standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up his son for me. You see. I was that father and your pastor is my son's friend.
Bryan Nei #34571
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