Christ’s Greatest Promise To You

Christ's Greatest Promise To You

2 Crinthianso 6:17b ... I will receive you.

The Bible is rich and more beautiful in amazing assurances than that rainbow of promise following the summer's rain. Did you know that among all these there is one assurance that fills every need and longing of the human heart?

My task today is to pick out the greatest promise, and I know this is a pleasant task in futility. My mind's eye gleams with joy unspeakable as I settle on my preferred promise; God says, "I will receive you." It is God's pledge to welcome my rueful soul; it is His acceptance of the unacceptable; it is His justifying of my condemned soul. What a generous guarantee, and this same guarantee is extended to all, whether rich or poor, high or low, white or black. All the sinner need do is to come to Him, and God's hand of welcome is extended.

Have you ever pondered on how we without Christ must appear to this holy God? Picture ourselves and the way we treat the lower criminal elements among us! We shun these men and women, these degraded human wretches, these repositories of hopelessness and vile sodden acts. The average man or woman desires to keep them and their habitations as far from sight as possible. Our loathing and contempt are obvious when government planners desire a new jail in our neighborhoods. We protest and clamor and sign petitions. We do not want these elements of corruption in our sights. Yet God, who is so holy that the Old Testament prophet declares that He cannot even look upon sin, reveals His mercy to us through the shedding of love from His Son who was without the smallest guile. God looked upon His Son who pleaded our wants and in His death prayed: "..Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do..." Luke 23:34).

God looks upon us with unlimited love and compassion. God the Father loves us and gave His Son; God the Son loves us and gave His life; The Holy Spirit loves us and witnesses that we are now the sons and daughters of God! We are the prodigal son who has returned. All sin is the same to God, because all sin is mutiny against God. I am so glad that God gazes on the heart, not on the clothing we wear. God sees the inward, while men look upon the outward appear¬ance.

Contemplate for a moment on the illustration of the prodigal son. Why did it take him so long to return home? He had this greatest promise, but he did not know it. He feared the reception that he should receive. Sin took him further, cost him more and kept him longer than he could ever imagine. Such is the nature of mutiny against God. He had practiced being the fool when he left the father's love, and now he had finished the deal and produced a fool in himself. In his mind's ears he could hear the pounding of the continual jeers of his old neighbors that awaited him. He had squandered his great potential of greatness and had fallen into the depths of a miserable, unprofitable swine keeper.

Despair and agony were his only companions when the party time was over and the money was gone. The pleasures of sin are for a season, but the hangover seems to linger forever. He thought of the comfy bed, the delicious meals, the joy filled songs and the many true friends of younger days; he contrasted it all with his present depression and unquenchable appetite. He had moved from a mansion to homelessness.

However, he was about to discover a great promise, the greatest promise any wretch could receive!

He starts for home. I imagine that he has a long way to come. He arrives, and as the sun reflects over his home, nothing could be more beautiful and attractive. He has spent the trip practicing his speech and scheme to make entry. Nothing is more important; not money, nor position, nor recognition, nor acceptance of others. When he arrives in sight of the house, he is footsore and weary; he just hopes he will not be driven away.

In just a little while we witness a most surprised young man in that home. He learns the promise of his father, "I will receive you!" He enters home in rags and now is newly clothed; he enters home famished and he now has plenty; he enters home as a servant and behold he is a son!

It is not the expected fear of a harsh reception but of a warm, loving welcome. All because of the promise, "I will receive you!" I only imagine the one regret in his mind was that he had not come home sooner than he did. There is infinite power in this promise!

When you feel that God has no use for you, that you are a rueful wretch, that despair and agony are your companions, let me assure you that God greets you with open arms and a gracious forgiveness. This is His greatest promise!