Bought and Paid For
Some years ago, I heard a preacher tell a wonderful parable about Christ’s love. I thought it should be recorded for posterity. I made a few modifications for theological clarity and expanded it somewhat, though.
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It seems a little boy had carefully crafted a miniature sail boat. He spent many long, but loving hours, manufacturing and fitting together every tiny part of this little boat. When he was finished, it was the most beautiful thing, in his mind, that he had ever seen and he loved it more than any other of his possessions.
With great anticipation and a thumping heart, he raced to the duck pond at the local park. There he would float his exquisite ship on this glorious sun-shiny day. Upon arriving at the pond, he found the boat sea worthy and, as expected, had a glorious time on the warm summer afternoon.
Alas, as often happens on those warm summer days, the wind, quite unexpectedly, began to blow up a storm . Before the boy realized it, the boat had floated far from the shore into the deep water where he couldn’t reach it. Worse yet, heavy rains began to pour from the sky and the pond swiftly grew into a lake with the waters overflowing its banks into an adjacent creek which was, itself, growing precipitously. Aghast, in spite of all his best efforts, the boat was washed down the stream.
The boy chased the boat as far as he could. He fought his way through mud and thickets, but could never find a spot where he could reach his beautiful boat before it was swept out of his sight. Filthy, sore and brokenhearted, he made his way home, crawled into his bed and cried himself to sleep, dreaming of his great loss.
The next day and the next day and the next day, he continued to search for his precious possession, but to no avail. Yet, he never gave up the search and thought of his beloved treasure endlessly.
Some time having passed, the boy was walking through his local village looking for anything of interest as young boys are wont to do. Walking down the main street sidewalk of town, he peered into the various shops curiously admiring the wares that he saw there. Pots, pans, appliances and sundry dry goods filled every window on the street.
Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Something caught his eye that couldn’t have been more unexpected. It was his sail boat!
Yes, sitting in a window of one of the stores was his beautiful boat. He froze for a moment, staring, while sunshine glistened on its pristine hull.
He flew into the building, running to the window where, without a thought, he reached out for the long lost object for which he had suffered so much anguish. Shocked, he found his reach arrested by the grip of someone whom he had not noticed, but had noticed him. It was the shopkeeper and he had grabbed the boys arm, pulling him from the display case.
The man inquired what he was doing. The boy exclaimed that he was only reaching for his boat, the one he had lost in the so many days before. The boy recounted how the storm had come and had taken his prize away. He told how thrilled he was to have found the boat in the window and that he could now return to the pleasures this object of his love had afforded him.
That was about the point where the man asked the boy, “Found? I am the one who found the boat. I found it abandoned after a storm a fortnight ago and brought it here to my store where it will now fetch a pretty penny for me.”
The boy was overcome with terror at the thought of again losing the object of his affections. He protested to the man that the boat was his and that, had it not been for the terrible storm, it would be his still. He demanded his property!
The old man merely scoffed at the child. He told him that finders were keepers and if the boy truly loved the boat, he would have been more responsible and not have lost it in the first place. He continued that there was now a price on it and that if the boy truly wanted ownership of said ship, he simply must pay that price. In exasperation, he inquired exactly what that price might be. The figure given was much more than he felt he could ever pay.
The little boy’s heart sank as he left the premises. He felt bereft of all hope of regaining his treasure. What was he to do? Once again, he cried himself to sleep over this dreadful loss.
When he awoke the next day, it was with a renewed hope and a plan of action. Perhaps it was the sunshine. Perhaps it was the night of fitful rest finally coming to an end. Somehow, in a moment of epiphany, he knew what he would have to do. His plan was simple, yet masterful. It was the only thing that could work.
The youngster sprang from his bed, gathered all of his belongings, carefully placing them in his little red wagon. With more effort than he had ever mustered in his young life, he went from door to door and person to person, hocking everything until his wagon was empty and then found someone to buy the wagon from him. He then sat down, counted his money, and, realizing he had garnered just enough to pay the price demanded by the old man, leapt with joy! He ran as fast as his feet could carry him to the counter of the shop.
Laboriously to the point of excruciation, the man counted every penny the boy had brought, making sure that he was not a penny shy. Yes, the payment was the exact amount that had been demanded. With a sickeningly Grinchy smile, the old man told the boy, “The price is paid in full. The vessel is yours.”
With immeasurable elation, the boy sprung to the window, took the boat in his arms and held it close to his heart, bathing it in tears of joy. He couldn’t imagine being happier. As he walked out of the door into the bright light of day, he stood there on the sidewalk, looked at his little ship and said, “You’re mine twice now. I made you and then I bought you.”
Didn’t Jesus do the same thing? He made us. We were his property. Sadly though, we were washed away in the storms of life and lost in this terrifying world. Still, His heart of love wouldn’t let Him forget us and He never gave up His search.
Once He found us, He found us in the possession of another…a usurper. One who was an extortionist who had no true ownership. One who demanded a price he wasn’t even owed. The loss was against God and not against him. Yet, Jesus paid it all! He gave everything He owned in exchange for our salvation. We are His…and He is ours!
“Jesus paid it all!
All to Him I owe.
Sin had left a crimson stain.
Labels: Jesus, sail boats, storm