There is a saying that goes around. It is used especially when one is selecting friends. It is usually spoken like this, "Well, I just don't have anything in common with them." I wonder how many times I have uttered that phrase and not given thought to what I say? Who on earth is unlike me? Who has not felt pain or rejoiced at some small event? Who is it that was not created by the union of man and woman? Who has not seen the sun? Who has not felt lonely? Who has not thought of their impending death and given a little shudder? Long could one search this green earth and never find such a man. For there is not a man been born since Adam that has not felt despair, or that could not use a little love. How often have I dismissed whole persons because we did not have "things" in common? Now in a moment of solitude I see relationships are not built on things.
All of humanity that walks the earth holds this in common with me: life. Life is a tricky business though. There seems to be two kinds of life, as different as could be. The first, and more widely held of the two is akin to mere existence. One rises in the morning and goes about his daily toil, but there is no sense of meaning, nothing that drives his spirit except the will to remain in the current state of existence. He bears his burdens with no hope of relief. Day in, day out, his mind and hands go about their business. Yet this worker of the field, a friend and fellow man, is not fully alive. His muscles work and his reason calculates, but his poor soul is quite dead. So these men, one may venture to say are only half-alive. Yet, can one say such a thing as "half-alive?" No, half-alive is wholly-dead as any honest man will say. So there is one of the two sorts of men, sad as it may be.
What are the others, are they worse off? Nay! These are the brothers and sisters, the children of the King. Full of joy and life they are exuberant everyday. These were once the lonely ones, those lost in quagmires of despair. They were counted among the dead, and change came unforeseen. God the Son gave up His brilliant palaces and clothed Himself in the flesh of fragile man. He, the only perfect one, took upon Himself the curse of the walking dead. He died the final death for all who would believe. Fruitless toil and despondency, the marks of humankind, were buried with Him. Three days passed and He was raised again to the glory of the Son He has always been. "Trust and believe," were the words from his mouth. It seems so small a thing when the reward inherited is considered. So small a thing indeed, but not of small price. The Son came and paid it all so that those half-alive and wholly-dead may be saved. To those that have trusted He has given life, to those that received He gave the right to be called children of God. These children are the ones set free. They have been bestowed with rights, given pleasure and gifts without end.
So there are the two sorts of men. When next you think, "I have nothing in common," think hard and well what it means to be human. Perhaps this person is brother or sister. If so, a song of praise for Him who set you free is in order. If it is amongst death that he walks show him the Way and and he shall be eternally thankful. If you are a man we have most things in common. If you are a child of the King we have everything in common through the blood of Jesus Christ.
