The Least, The Last, The Chosen

Now don’t raise your hand, because I don’t wnat to embarass anyone, but answer this in your own mind. Who here this morning has ever hated the moment when two captains were chosen to pick teams, and somehow you knew that when it came to the end of the picking order, you would likely be one of the ones chosen last?

When I was about 4th Grade, I was playing Little Leauge Baseball…Well, mostly I played “benchwarmer” for the Reds. The two coaches were Methodist… Members of the church my father pastored. You think that would help. Sometimes, if the Reds were ahead…I’d get in for just a little bit. But, mostly we had losing season, so you know how much I played. The Team to beat was a team named the Tigers. They had some really good players who were a year and two years older than me.

I really wanted to play baseball and so I went out for baseball in my 5th Grade year, and as was the custom, I returned to my team, the Reds. Those two years (4& 5th) again, the team to beat was the Tigers. They had some of the best players. Older boys, who would later be on teams (of any sport) that had makings of State Championship teams.

My 6th Grade year, the Tigers had lost their older players to Jr. High, and the draft choice was short. The Reds were asked to give up a player to the draft. Remember, they lost a lot of good players. And now there were new players and new coaches on the Tigers. Including a very late round draft choice named Scott Bradford. Yes, I got picked to be on the Tigers.

Our first game was against (you guessed it) the Reds. I was daydreaming when I heard the Coach say “Left Field – Scott Bradford”. I counted, we only had nine players! My chance had come, because a starter had not shown up. I played. Caught some balls, made some hits, missed some too.

Bottom of the Ninth…The Tigers wereahead by 1. Reds were up to bat. Two outs. Man on 2nd. Big Al was up to bat. My old Coach, he was heard to say “Hit it to Bradford”. Miracles do happen, and Big Al probably can’t believe I caught the ball! Game over.

I didn’t start every game, but I played. Tigers, we went 11-0 and I still got the signed baseball to prove it. Look here, my name is even first on the list of players (alphabetical no less) but proving the last to be drafted shall be first (or something like that).

Chosen late…But I became part of the Team…And in the end, I received the same reward! Interesting thing in the Kingdom of God! Come in the late round draft… you the same reward as those who came early! God’s Kingdom is not just for the best! Or for the ones we like the most! Its not just for those who feel worthy! But the Kingdom of God is for the least and the last! They too are chosen!

In the parable of the laborers of the vineyard the message is clear, thos who were chosen late received the same as those who had been chosen early. That’s good news for us who did not come early to the relationship with the Master. If you came to him at age 6 or 7, or you came in your sixith winter, or even your seventieth, the reward is the same: The gift of God is eternal life.

Ill: In the book "The Angels Were Silent", by Max Lucado, (pp. 13-16) (I can’t say it any better than Max, so let me read you part of the story about Ben and Max, the roustabouts) ... (Read the story, where Max encounters a roustabout named Ben)...

Maybe you feel like you a "too little too late", the least or the last.

- Feel like the last, fighting and addiction

- Feel down and out with a drug habit

- Think maybe you were unloved

- Your family life wasn’t so good.

- Think somebody did you wrong

- Maybe you have been a success in work

- Or athletics

- Maybe you think you’ve had a truckload of bad experiences…and now its late in the draft, it’s the 6:00 o’clock call, and the work day is almost over

But God can still use you! In fact God is still waiting to choose you! Or for you to choose Him!

(p. 19) The Angels Were Silent: “You guys still need some work?” Ben jumped down from the barrel and answered for both of us. “Yes Sir!” Grab your hats and your lunches and get in the truck.” We didn’t have to be told twice. I had already eaten my lunch but I grabbed the pail anyway. We jumped in the back of the truck and leaned against the cab. Old Ben put a smoke in his mouth and cupped his hands around the match to protect it from the wind. As the truck began to rumble, he spoke. Though it has been twenty years (more now), I can still see the sparkle through his furry brows. “Shor feels good to be chosen, don’t it boy?” “Sure does, Ben. It sure does!”