Victorious (Part 1) Series

Series: Church On The Move (Colossians)[#6]

VICTORIOUS (PART 1)

Colossians 3:1-4

Introduction:

I get many emails forwarded to me each week. To be honest I don’t even read them all; but I received one the other day marked, “Best email I’ve ever read”. So out of curiosity I read it and they may just be right. Let me share it with you this morning.

“Pure Blood”

For GOD so loved the world that HE gave HIS only begotten SON, that whosoever believeth in HIM should not perish but have everlasting life (John 3:16).

It’s a Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot yelling, “Turn on a radio, turn on a radio!” And while the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made: “Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from a ‘mystery’ flu.” Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country.

People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working! California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It’s as though it’s just sweeping in from the borders.

And then, all of a sudden, the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It’s going to take the blood of somebody who hasn’t been infected, an so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That’s all we ask of you! When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they’ve got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your wife and kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, “Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home.”

You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on and if this is the end of the world. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waiving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and say’s “Daddy, that’s me.”

Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. Wait a minute! Hold on! And they say, “It’s okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn’t have the disease. We think he has got the right type.” Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another… some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week and an old doctor walks up to you and says, “Thank you, sir. Your son’s blood type is perfect. It’s clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine.” As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying.

Then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, “May we see you for a moment? We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we nee, we need you to sign a consent form.” You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken has been left blank. “H-how many pints?”, you ask. And that is when the doctor’s smile fades and he says, “We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren’t prepared. I’m sorry sir, we need it all!”

“But, but you don’t understand.” We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We need it all!” “But can’t you give him a transfusion?” “If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?” In numb silence, you do.

Then they say, “Would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?” Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, “Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?” Can you take his hands and say, “Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn’t just have to be. Do you understand that?” And when the doctor comes back in and says, “I’m sorry, we’ve got to get started! People all over the world are dying. Can you leave?” Can your walk out while he is saying, “Daddy? Mommy? Daddy? “Why, why have you forsaken me?”