It occurred to me today that I take so much for granted with regard to the freedoms we have in Australia. I don't think about it often, and for that reason I am so glad that Sunday is Remembrance Day. Once of the themes of the day is that our freedom as a nation is due in no small part to the fact that men and women gave their lives, and I am the beneficiary of that.
This morning I heard that these people went to war without knowing me or my family. There is nothing that I could have done to make myself appeal to them, that would cause them to go for me directly. Yet they went, and I am better off for it. Surely the least I can do is remember that.
Yet the heroes of wars, past and present, are not the first to die for my benefit. There is another who, with my benefit directly in his mind, laid down his life for me. Jesus went to the cross, knowingly, willingly, as a perfect substitute for me. I should have been there. That was my fate. To die. Because I've turned away from God and tried to do things my own way, my payment was to be spending eternity paying off my choice to go my own way. Separated from God.
However, before I'd done anything to even start to think about turning in God's direction - long before I was even alive - he took the initiative. He made the way for my debt to be cancelled. Forever. It was in the form of his son, Jesus, dying in my place so that I no longer had to pay for my sin. It was all done without me having to approve anything, work for it, strive for it, make resolutions about it or burn myself out trying. I had no part in any of the solution.
All I have to do is accept that I have turned from God to try things my way. That makes me a sinner, and I have to face that fact.
Then, I have to acknowledge that Jesus' death on the cross was God's way of providing a substitute - a sacrifice - for my sake.
I have to ask Jesus to live in me. To change me, my attitudes and selfish claims to my own life. I need to make him not my first priority, but my only priority. Let him choose the direction of my life.
Finally, I have to live life. With Jesus at the helm, not me. It is the least I owe him, given that he gave his perfect life for me.
Can I do it? No. As soon as I try to do it, I fail. Why? Because it's in the me trying that my problem lies. So each day I ask that he guides me and shows me the way I should live for that day.
So, as a result, remembrance day is everyday. While I appreciate - and don't for a second minimise - the sacrifice of the Diggers who gave their all for us, every day I remember the sacrifice of one who is perfect. For my benefit.
And I am glad.
