Missing the Divine

Most people avoided George Chase. He lived in a twelve-foot square shack in the woods where New England’s Pawcatuck River meets Little Narragansett Bay. To the locals, it was obvious George didn’t have a bathtub. They could smell the evidence. 

One day a hurricane brought the Atlantic Ocean rushing over the seacoast, washing away the beachfront with its attractive homes. Survivors pulled themselves from the bay and began searching for refuge. Eleven of them, soaked and shivering, found it in George’s cabin. He gave them everything he had: water, milk, ginger tea, and shelter. After the hurricane of 1938, the townsfolk had a far different opinion of George Chase.

It’s sad when we make superficial judgments about others, yet it’s our nature to do so. We do that with Jesus too. We might picture Him as He’s portrayed in old paintings, serenely handsome. But the prophet Isaiah said of the Messiah, “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him . . . . like one from whom people hide their faces he was despised, and we held him in low esteem” (Isaiah 53:2-3). Yet this man gave us everything He had. “He took up our pain and bore our suffering” (v. 4). He offered His life for ours.

It’s tragic when we miss the humanity of our fellow human beings. How much more tragic to miss the divinity of the One we despised!