Taste My Jesus

At the University of Chicago Divinity School each year they have what they called "Baptist Day." On this day each one is to bring a lunch to be eaten out of doors in a grassy picnic area. Every "Baptist Day" the school would invite one of the greatest minds to lecture in the Theological Educational Center.

One year they invited Dr. Paul Tillich. Dr. Tillich spoke for two and one-half hours "proving" that the resurrection of Jesus was false. He quoted scholar after scholar and book after book. He concluded that since there was no such thing as the resurrection, the religious tradition of the church was groundless, emotional mumbo-jumbo, because it was based on a relationship with a risen Jesus, who in fact never rose from the dead in any literal sense.

He then asked if there were any questions. After about 30 seconds, an old dark-skinned preacher with a head of short-cropped wooly white hair stood up in the back. "Doctor, I got one question." All eyes turned toward him. He reached into his sack lunch and pulled out an apple and began eating it.

Doctor Tillich ... CRUNCH, MUNCH, my question is a simple question, ... CRUNCH MUNCH ... Now I never read them books you read. CRUNCH MUNCH ... "and I can't recite the Scriptures in the original Greek ... CRUNCH MUNCH ... "And I don't know about Niebuhr and Heidegger ... CRUNCH MUNCH.

He finished his apple "All I want ta know is: This apple I just ate ... was it bitter or sweet?" Dr. Tillich paused for a moment and answered in exemplary scholarly fashion: "I cannot possibly answer that message, for I haven't tasted your apple."

The white-haired preacher dropped the core of his apple into his crumpled paper bag, looked at Dr. Tillich and calmly, "Neither have you tasted my Jesus".

The 1000 plus in attendance could not contain themselves. The crowd erupted with applause and cheers. Dr. Tillich thanked his audience and promptly left.

Have you tasted Jesus?

If you have not tasted Jesus yet, do not wait ... He is delicious ...

The Ultimate Sacrifice

I heard a true story about a man who operated a drawbridge. At a certain time every afternoon, he raised the bridge for a ferryboat to go by, and then lowered it in time for a passenger train to cross over. He performed this task precisely, according to the clock.

One day, he brought his son to work so he could watch. As his father raised the bridge, the boy got excited and wanted to take a closer look. His father realized his son was missing and began looking for him. To his horror, his son had come dangerously close to the bridge's gears. Frantic, he wanted to go rescue him, but if he left the controls, he would not be back in time to lower the bridge for the approaching passenger train.

He faced a dilemma. If he lowered the bridge, his son would be killed. If he left it raised, hundreds of others would die. He knew what he had to do. With tears streaming down his face, he watched the passenger train roll by. On board, two women chatted over tea. Others were reading newspapers. All were totally unaware of what had just transpired. The man cried out, "Don't you realize that I just gave my son for you?" But they just continued on their way.

This story is a picture of what happened at the Cross.

God gave up His beloved Son so that we might live.

--Unknown

who'll take the son?

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art. When the Viet Nam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art.

The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this." The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. The man died a few months later.

There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform was the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?"

There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted. "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted. "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?" Another voice shouted angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting! We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!" But still the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room.. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?"


"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters." "$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?" The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!"

A man sitting on the second row shouted. "Now let's get on with the collection!" The auctioneer laid down his gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over." "What about the paintings?" "I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets every thing!"

Yes, young friend, God gave His son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The son, the son, who'll take the son?" Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.

The Three Camels

A long time ago, there were three camels named Erin, Nina and Penda. They wanted to travel to distant lands and visit wonderful places. The wise en who owned them rarely left their palace. Instead, they spent their days studying ancient writings, and their nights searching he stars.

The three cames prayed, "God please send us on an adventure."

And God answered their prayer. Several nights later, the wise men loaded their camels and headed west, towards a bright star. They traveled all through the night and into the next day until they reached an oasis. There, they rested in the shade of the big palm trees.

Erin said, "I think i know where we're going."

"Where?" asked the other two.

"My master, Melchior, placed a jar of myrrh on my back. This is a gift given tot a great general. A man willing to serve his people and give his life for them if necessary. His house will be large and he will have hundreds of servants and soldiers attending his needs."

The other camels nodded, "You may be right."

At sunset, they approached a large house.

"See, I told you," bragged Erin. "This must be the general's house."

The three wise men spent the evening with the general who provided them with delicious food and entertainment. The camels were treated kindly as well. After dark, they talked with the animals in the stable.

"Who lives here?" asked Erin. "He must be a very great man."

"He is y master General Kadar", said a donkey. "He is a great warrior and faithful servant to his King."

The camels went to to sleep, honored to visit such a great man's home. The next morning the wise men continued the journey. After traveling all morning, they stopped at another oasis to rest.

"My master did not leave his gift with General Kadar", said Nina.

"Neither did mine," said Erin. "I must have been wrong".

"I think I know where were are going," said Pends.

"Where?" asked the other two.

"My master , Balthazar, loaded a chest full of gold on my back," said Penda. "Gold is a gift given to a king. This king must live in a fabulous palace somewhere to the west.

The other camels nodded, "Your may be right."

After several more days they arrived at king Herod's palace. The wise men stayed in the palace as the King's guests. In the stable, the camels were given water, food, and a place to sleep.

"See, I knew we were visiting a Kin,", bragged Penda.

The other camels said. "You were right."

But the next morning, the wise men continued their journey without leaving any of their gifts.

"I don't understand," said Penda. "If not a king, then who?"

"I think I know where were are going," said Nina.

"Where?" asked the other tow.

"My master, Gaspar, Put a container filled with sweet-smelling frankincense on my back," said Nina "Frankincense is the gift given to God. I believe we are going to a great temple. There will be many people offering their gifts and prayers to God."

The other camels nodded, "You may be right."

Later that day, they came to the great temple in Jerusalem.

"See, I knew we were visiting a temple," bragged Nina.

The other camels said, "You were right."

But after a short time, they mounted their camels and continued the journey. It was nighttime as they approached a small town called Bethlehem. The great star led them to a very small house.

The three wise men knocked on the door. A man named Joseph greed them.

"we have traveled many miles to visit the new king," said Balthazar.

"We followed his star," added Gaspar.

"We want to worship him," said Melchior. "Is he here?"

Joseph called to his wife, "Mary, bring Jesus here. He has some visitors." Mary appeared in the doorway, holding a small child. "This is Jesus," said Mary.

The three wise men knelt down in front of Jesus ad worshiped him.