Smelly and dirty, the rubbish tip is hardly a conducive place to go for treasure. But the armchair in my study, once rejected and abandoned, came to me – free of charge and with a big dose of love – from a rubbish dump.
The most significant event in history, the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, took place on Jerusalem’s rubbish dump. And thereby came the opportunity of treasure. What is that treasure? In the words of Cecil Frances Alexander, “He only could unlock the gates of heaven and let us in.” The necessary “unlocking” took place when Jesus died on the Cross at the dump, and was subsequently raised to life – in a garden: the antithesis of a rubbish dump.
Who is this Jesus who can “let us in” to heaven? He had an inauspicious birth, was a child refugee, led a short though significant adult life, was condemned to death in his early thirties, was crucified on the refuse tip, then buried in a borrowed tomb. This hardly demonstrates the power and majesty of God. Or does it? Majesty is seen in meekness, power in service to others, love in sacrifice. God never fails to surprise. The treasure came at a price – for Jesus – but is free for those who choose to accept it.
My armchair is an ordinary reminder of the extra-ordinary treasure that God gives through Jesus Christ his Son.