Australians love to play. You name it we play it. And we don’t just play it, we’re obsessed by it. AFL, soccer, cricket, netball, rugby – you name it we play it.
Let’s face it, we’re competitive. And not only that, we love to win. Boy do we love to win. Remember 1983? The whole country erupted didn’t it. Why? Because OUR boat was faster than THEIR boat. We just love winning. Perhaps more than any country I know, we back our winners. We can’t get enough of them. They don’t even have to be human. Horses, we love them. Cars, we love them. As long as it wins we love it.
But the greatest winner of all time – Him we don’t love. Not many of us anyway.
Think about it for a moment. Here is a man who took on death and won. A carpenter’s son no less. No one saw him coming. He looked defeated before He even stepped into the ring. Even those who backed Him expected Him to lose. But He didn’t lose. His was the greatest comeback in history. Just when He was on the ropes. As He lay bleeding and lifeless and defeated, He struck. And what a punch. Man, what a punch. The heavy weight champion of the world – the one so bad we call him death – Jesus knocked him to the canvas. And there he lay. Out cold. Death was dead.
Why is it that we love winners, and yet we don’t love Jesus? Makes you think.