20090510
Two questions should gravitate us towards the love of Christ in 1 Pet. 2:9-12. They are: “Whose I am?” and “Why am I here?” It is “Whose I am?” and not “Who I am?” that is key. The fact that I am the worst sinner or the best saint (an oxymoron since none are righteous before God) does not matter. What matters is that Jesus chose to choose me. The “me” that will let Him down frequently, the same “me” that forgets to look to Him faithfully and fervently, and the hidden “me” that I myself shudder from. Jesus Christ (marvellous, spotless and gracious) – was SMSed (smitten, mocked and spat on) – for that “me”. And for all such collective “me’s” as his chosen people (vs. 9).
Why would he choose me? That question escapes full comprehension this side of heaven, except to say – in no small way – “God so loved the world” (Jn. 3:16). So, “Whose I am?” – Christ’s – should lead to the second question of what does He want of me here – or “Why am I here?” Perhaps the image of a stone is not so strange in considering the second question. Picture a huge boulder. It can stand unmoved against the lashings of torrential rain. As Christ’s child, I can stand against the mud sliding values of society (for example, on matters of sexual orientations or corporate greed). So, “Why am I here?” A specific and practical example is as a reasonable sounding board to rightly explain issues to seekers of God who are open to know the truth.
A building needs the cornerstone as the foundation. We have Jesus Christ – the chosen and living stone – as our firm foundation. We can be chipped away by the pressures around us to become just like gravel but our foundation is always firm. And just as yesterday’s society rejected the “capstone”, it will reject all who are His today too. When social spurning gets overbearing, remember that as Christ is the “precious cornerstone” (vs. 6) to God, we are the precious “people of God” (vs. 10), whom He will build. Most importantly, we must open up that once heart of stone (self-will and 1,000 excuses for every shade of disobedience). We must make it a heart of flesh, tender for God’s inscriptions on it, so that by our “good lives” (vs. 12) – in deed not mere talk – we can be the praise of God’s glory (vs. 9).
