Twenty Twenty-Eight
“Even as the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for many.” –Matthew 20:28
“It happened during one of the early offensives of WW I. The Australians were experimenting with mines and now it was show time. The advance was timed for zero hour—dawn.
All was in the readiness. The Sappers had done their work well, and the mine was filled with TNT. The soldiers were buckling on their accoutrements, seeing to their bayonets and drinking their grog in silence. It was the darkest hour preceding dawn and nerves were on edge. Some were praying. And then the faintest suspicion of light tinged the sky, and the black of night was beginning to fade into early morning gray. The Brigadier looked at his watch and compared with the Major’s. They nodded assent. It was time. He deliberately pressed the button.
Nothing happened.
It was a moment of acute crisis. The men were going over the top, into enemy fire, mine or no mine. They might take the position, but at tremendous cost of life. Just at that moment the Sapper Lieutenant turned to the Brigadier and said, “Excuse me, sir, but I think I know what’s wrong.” The moments seemed hours as they watched him disappear into the tunnel leading to the mine. Perspiration stood out on their foreheads—waiting. A minute passed. Then an ear shattering roar told its own tale. The men already half way across no-man’s land took the position with little resistance.
But the Sapper Lieutenant was never seen again.”
–Sacrifice by Howard Guinness, p. 81-82
He had to decide in one agonizing fraction of a second who would die: one of him, or hundreds of his fellow soldiers. Jesus Christ of Nazareth did much the same. (Read Matt 26-28) He was faced with a choice, and to the dismay of the devil and our great gain, He chose the way of the cross—betrayal, mockery, torture. He was left naked and forsaken to die one of the worst deaths imaginable. His life traded for that of a wicked criminal like so many baseball cards. A perfect sinless man who bore the weight of the whole world. But He was living out code Twenty Twenty-Eight—giving his life a ransom for many.
And now He’s risen with victory over hell and the grave and anything you might be facing. And that leaves us to carry on the work He started. To live as Christians, or Christ-men: to be like Him.
The Bible says that the harvest is ripe, so we aren’t waiting on the world. And God does not want any to perish, but multitudes die every day, so I don’t think it’s God we’re waiting on. Rather, I think that God and the world are waiting on us. Revival starts in the heart. Revival starts in everyday living. Just how much of my life am I willing to give? Am I willing to be like Jesus and the Sapper Lieutenant and give up my earthly life so that others can have life? I know Jesus paid the price of salvation, but we are supposed to be living sacrifices. You may never have to face actual physical death. But possibly even tougher is dying out to self each and every day. How much time am I willing to give up… in prayer? In Bible study? In outreach? In fasting? How much criticism will I bear? How much of God’s love do I take outside the church walls?
When we get to heaven, I have a feeling a lot of things will be put in perspective. It’s worth it. This is my call, and I believe it’s the call of every other believer. Our mission statement: to live Twenty Twenty-Eight.
A great reminder. Our example of love is one of sacrifice. Jesus’ words in Luke 14:28 take on greater significance in this light, as following His example will cost us much in time and effort. Anyone considering this life should ponder their willingness to give of themselves for others.
If I am not willing to do that, it probably means I don’t really love my neighbor as myself. I need to go back to the beginning and make sure my heart is in the right place. That happens all the time — so I need reminders like this one.
I like your call to evangelism. Good perspective. It reminds us of how tempting it is to give lip service to giving our lives. Really doing it is what separates the men from the boys.