A.J. Gordon was the great Baptist pastor of the Clarendon Church in Boston,
Massachusetts. One day he met a young boy in front of the sanctuary carrying
a rusty cage in which several birds fluttered nervously. Gordon inquired,
"Son, where did you get those birds?" The boy replied, "I trapped them out
in the field." "What are you going to do with them?" "I’m going to play with
them, and then I guess I’ll just feed them to an old cat we have at home."
When Gordon offered to buy them, the lad exclaimed, "Mister, you don’t want
them, they’re just little old wild birds and can’t sing very well." Gordon
replied, "I’ll give you $2 for the cage and the birds." "Okay, it’s a deal,
but you’re making a bad bargain." The exchange was made and the boy went
away whistling, happy with his shiny coins. Gordon walked around to the back
of the church property, opened the door of the small wire coop, and let the
struggling creatures soar into the blue. The next Sunday he took the empty
cage into the pulpit and used it to illustrate his sermon about Christ’s
coming to seek and to save the lost -- paying for them with His own precious
blood. "That boy told me the birds were not songsters," said Gordon, "but
when I released them and they winged their way heavenward, it seemed to me
they were singing, ’Redeemed, redeemed, redeemed!’"
This is Advent. And the message of these times is the song of those wild
birds. It’s the song sung in every carol this season: Redeemed! It’s the
meaning behind every gift given under the tree: Redeemed! It’s the Word the
shepherds heard: Redeemed! It’s the assurance Mary received:
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