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THE 24-DAY MIRACLE #4
"SINCE BY MAN CAME DEATH"
One man makes a mistake — and an entire planet goes
down the tubes. That happened 6,000 years ago, and you and I here just
20 days before we usher in the year 2001 A.D. still bear the skid marks
of that ancient accident. Is that fair? Is that right?
I don't know what your date of birth was, but I do know this: you were
born a sinner. You didn't have any choice in the matter. When you emerged
into this world, which is a sinFULL world, you were born pre-wired to
sin. The software of sin was preloaded in your mainframe before you even
got switched on there in the delivery room. Because Adam sinned, you and
I today are sinners. Period, case closed.
There's a song about that which we want to focus on today as part of our
ongoing series, THE 24-DAY MIRACLE. Handel's Messiah, written in just
three-and-a-half weeks back in the year 1741, contains some very relevant
truth for us way down here on December 13, 2001, especially in Song #46,
one of the great choruses down at the close of this opera. It's entitled
"Since By Man Came Death," and it's taken from First Corinthians
15:21, 22. Here's the verse, and we'll hear the song in just a few moments.
"For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of
the dead." Then verse 22 amplifies: "For as in Adam all die,
even so in Christ shall all be made alive."
There's a bit of colossal unfairness lurking here in
these two verses. First of all, you and I didn't ask to be born. We're
not complaining, mind you . . . and we think of the comedian's retort
to his son: "It's a good thing you DIDN'T ask; I'd have said no!"
But we didn't have any choice in being born, and we also didn't have any
choice about being sinners. We were born sinners for one simple reason:
a man named Adam came along before us and chose to sin. From that one
tragic, Edenic moment, every citizen of this planet ever to follow — except
for one — inherited that inevitability of sin. Is that unfair? It certainly
seems like it. And all because of one man.
There's a bit of an anniversary happening today, and royalty watchers
might well be aware of it. Back on this date, December 13, in the year
1936 — 61 years ago today — Edward VIII chose to abdicate the throne of
England in order to marry an American divorcée, Mrs. Wallis Simpson.
He actually had never been coronated king, but had occupied the throne
for about 11 months following the death of his father, King George V.
But he made this wrenching decision to step down, so he could marry "(quote)
the woman I love."
So what happened as the result of one man's choice? His younger brother,
the Duke of York, became king instead. The left-handed, stuttering sibling
who never expected to be king was abruptly pushed up onto the throne,
crowned as King George VI, and he ruled for 16 years . . . rather effectively
as things turned out. He and Queen Elizabeth saw the empire through the
bloody days of World War II and the German Blitzkrieg and all the rest.
But now here's the point. Who succeeded to the throne next? Not a child
of Edward VIII; no, because of his abdication, his family lost out forever.
Instead it was the daughter of younger brother, George VI, a woman we
all know as Queen Elizabeth II, who still reigns today. The entire royal
family, the line of power, shifted over one place on the family chart.
And Elizabeth II is to be followed by her son Charles and then his son
Prince William and right down the line. Forever as long as the empire
shall last, the royal line has been affected for eternity by one man's
desire to marry a common American woman.
And such is the nature of sin, friend, that it's also passed along. That's
a fixed truth as binding as the laws of genetics and family breeding so
carefully guarded at Buckingham Palace. There's an interesting little
booklet in our office here entitled The Security of Salvation, written
by the late Dr. Richard Nies. And he points us to this verse by the Apostle
Paul and then assures us that God doesn't blame us for being sinners.
Heaven realizes that we were born into sin. In fact, because God created
mankind with the capacity for free choice and the ability or possibility
of sinning, God Himself actually takes the responsibility for the dilemma
the human race is in. "It's My problem, and I'm taking care of it,"
He announces to the watching universe.
So let's look at this verse once more before we turn on our CD player.
Here it is in the Living Bible — and notice heaven's solution:
"Death came into this world because of what
one man (Adam) did, and it is because of what this other Man (Christ)
has done that now there is the resurrection of the dead." Then he
goes on: "Everyone dies because all of us are related to Adam, being
members of his sinful race, and wherever there is sin, death results.
BUT . . . all who are related to Christ will rise again."
These two brief verses, then, really put the entire
question of the universe before us. There are two men, Paul writes. A
man named Adam and a man named Jesus Christ. The deed of Adam 6,000 years
ago plunged every single member of his race, the human family, into sin.
Now for you and me, that's an involuntary situation. We couldn't help
being born into that. But now on the other hand, is this other Man: the
Son of God, Jesus Christ. And 4,000 years later, on Calvary, His act of
rescue is sufficient to rescue the same planet. The entire human race,
damned and doomed by one act, can be redeemed by a second act. But the
power, the effectiveness, the applicability of this second act is NOT
involuntary. It's NOT automatic . . . but it IS available to everyone
who chooses it.
So you can identify — by default — with the first Adam and be lost. Or
you can identify — by decision — with the second Adam, Jesus Christ, and
be saved. It's as simple as that.
We mentioned during the first installment of this radio series two years
ago how even George Handel himself was subject to the death that Adam's
sin caused for all of us. Money or fame or royalties couldn't prevent
the ever-encroaching march of the enemy, death, upon him. He began to
go blind in 1753; six years later, on April 6, 1759, with the end very
near, he heard for the final time his favorite work — which of course
was The Messiah. Eight days later he was gone. "Since by one man
. . . all die." Even the great Handel.
And yet the second half of this verse — and this glorious song — are equally
true. "Even so in Christ" — one Man — "shall all be made
alive." And we've shared how there in Westminster Abbey in London
where Handel is buried, you can see a statue of him composing this unforgettable
oratorio. And if you look closely at the score, you see that he's working
on the passage that was his only hope and confidence: "I Know That
My Redeemer Liveth."
Listen now as the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Chorus, directed by
Walter Susskind, bring us today's marvelous promise.
"Since By Man Came Death" by London Philharmonic
Orchestra and Chorus. (2:02)
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