Chosen

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for His possession, so that you may proclaim the praises of The One who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” – 1 Peter 2:9

Her clothes were filthy. It was clear she’d been living on the streets for quite some time. Disheveled, leaving a trail of foul stench, she made her way through the church doors, empty-handed. Bright, warm lights of chandeliers against old brick walls glowed as a beacon on that rainy night in Baltimore. The close-knit neighborhood had never seen this particular woman, and of all nights for her to show up it was the evening of the church’s semi-annual Thrift Market. Inside, donated and unwanted items and clothes were on display for sale, all proceeds supporting the church’s city ministries which included provision for the homeless. That night, a would-be recipient of those funds unknowingly made an appearance.

“I don’t have any money,” the woman said, “But can I just go ahead and take a few things?” Her shameless audacity was humbling. She was not trying to cover up her homelessness, but she also wasn’t proud of it. She expressed a need and a willingness to admit it.

“Please, go ahead. Take whatever you’d like.”

For a while, the woman meandered around the tables, pausing every so often to mumble out loud to herself. Customers came and went as the evening bustled with a flurry of activity. The woman slowly walked around each table and rack, gathering handfuls of clothing, stuffing whatever she found useful into a duffle bag. Eventually she sat down and scooped a cookie from the refreshment table. I approached and asked her name.

“Emily,” she replied. “Can you fix me a cup of coffee?”

Originally from New York, she had been living on the streets for over 20 years; Baltimore for the last nine months.

“Do you know of any shelters around here I can stay for the night?” she asked.

“The Helping Up Mission has a woman’s shelter. I can call them and let them know you need a place, and get you an Uber,” I replied.

“That would be great. If you don’t mind, I’m going to get changed before I leave.”

Emily gathered her bag and shuffled to the bathroom. The Uber was on its way and the Mission was informed that a guest would be arriving shortly. When she emerged from the bathroom it had become apparent that she had thrown out her old clothes. Her filthy garments were hanging out of the garbage can next to the toilet. She now wore a fresh pair of pajama pants and a crisp white T-shirt with the word ‘Chosen’ emblazoned across it. In small lettering beneath was the reference: 1 Peter 2:9.

Emily was beaming. She looked new. There was a difference in her walk. The white clean clothes shimmered on her in contrast to the black filthy clothes now disposed of. She thanked us, made her way out the door where the Uber waited, a chariot to whisk this chosen one off to safe shelter, a hot shower, meal, and warm bed. What an image. That night she was led through the doors to the very place that would provide her everything she needed, in the name of Jesus.

Emily could have kept her dirty clothes, been too proud to admit her need, kept away from the church, acted like she could afford the items and try to run out with them, but instead she was open, honest, transparent; not entitled but able to freely express her need. She was exactly what God was looking for.

The world looked at Emily as a burden on society, someone useless, hopeless, and unable to contribute. Mumbling to herself, it was clear that a mental impairment kept her on the streets. There was no place for her, and yet God’s ways, being the opposite of the world, saw her as His dearly beloved, useful, valued, given a seat at His table. While the world looked upon the outward appearance, He saw the heart, His desire was towards her, He sought her, guided her, picked her out, and chose her. What the world considers foolish the Lord saw as wisdom. And there it was, on display before our eyes. Like Joshua in Zechariah 3, the filthy garments of sin were exchanged for clean garments of righteousness. This was a free gift.

In the parable of the Wedding Banquet (Matthew 22) Jesus teaches that being properly dressed is essential to attend the feast (the Kingdom of Heaven). Everyone, from every tribe, tongue, nation, and background, regardless of their moral standing, is invited – both those the world considers ‘righteous’ and ‘sinful.’ Only those who accept the invitation find themselves to be the chosen ones. These chosen guests are given wedding garments, representing the perfection and sinlessness required to enter the Kingdom, which comes through Christ, not from their own actions. Whether someone was considered morally good or bad before attending was of absolutely no matter, all were clothed, shrouded, covered up in these garments, leveling the playing field.

However, receiving the wedding garment, accepting the invitation, and finding oneself to be ‘chosen’ required something from the individual: the acknowledgement of their own need – Much like Emily, who humbly came through the doors of the church, coming to Jesus just as she was, weary and burdened by her own efforts, recognizing her filthy garments. This contrasts with Adam and Eve, who tried to cover their shame by themselves. Jesus told the Pharisees that He came for the sick, not the healthy. By this, He meant that He came to save those who recognized their need for help, knowing they couldn’t reach God on their own. The Pharisees, however, believed they were “healthy” and didn’t see themselves as helpless or sinful. They clothed themselves in their own morality and thought it was enough to make them right with God. In reality, their self-reliance made them even more spiritually sick, because they couldn’t see their need for God’s grace. (Romans 3:10, 23).

In the parable, Jesus notices a guest at the banquet who isn’t wearing the provided wedding clothes. The guest is speechless because there’s no valid excuse – no one can stand before God based on their own righteousness. Isaiah was speechless and covered his mouth when he saw himself in light of the Lord. Even Job, who was considered by the society, a ‘righteous’ man, covered his mouth and was speechless when contrasted with the almighty God. The point is, even if a person tried to clean up their own garments (their life), they would still be stained with sin. Mankind is born once, clothed in a tainted flesh and a broken, sinful heart that cannot be repaired or made presentable. What’s needed is not patching up of old clothes, or a repairing of a new heart, but an entirely new set – a new birth, new clothes, a new heart. The guest without the proper garment symbolized someone who tried to rely on their own efforts, and perhaps thought either too high or too low of themselves, (pride, instead of humility) rather than accepting the new life and righteousness that only God alone, through Christ, can provide. What becomes of this person? They are removed from the banquet, because there is only one valid way in, through the Way, the Truth, and the Life: that is Jesus.

I pictured Emily in the bathroom, clothed in filth. She had been invited to the Wedding Feast. She had accepted the invitation. Jesus stood there wearing the bright, clean clothes. He took them off of Himself and handed them to her. As she reached for them, He took her filthy clothes from off of her, and put them on Himself. She wore His clean garment that declared her “chosen.” She had put off the old self and put on the new. Paul writes about it in Ephesians. This Greek tense “to put off and put on” refers to a single past finished action. He is reminding these believers that by knowing their need and trusting Jesus, they had put off and put on, and were chosen.

I could hear Jesus say, “Emily, you have been changed, given new clothes, a new heart, an entirely new birth. You are a new self now. Don’t look back, don’t rummage in the garbage bin for what’s no longer your identity, that which serves no purpose, that which separated you from Me. Live into, lean into, look to what is now yours, and remember who I say you are: beloved, desired, valued, chosen.”

In other cultures, religions, and philosophies, people are directed to put on new behaviors to become better. Jesus says to put on the new self that He is offering, and from that entirely new being will flow new motives, new and good behaviors. The Pharisees put on behaviors, but they were not new beings. Jesus called them whitewashed tombs. They looked good on the outside, but inside they were dead. They were in need of a new birth, a new heart, clean garments. They had to first be something before they could do something. They had to shed one identity put on a new one. “For I have been crucified with Christ and it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”

Just like in marriage, where a decision is made and a new life begins, so it is in our relationship with Christ. You don’t live as you did before, but as someone made new. Paul urges us to “be renewed”—to receive and embrace this new life, to recognize that we are chosen and clothed in Christ’s righteousness. It’s not about learning new behaviors; it’s about getting to know The One who chose and clothed us. We don’t simply learn principles, values, or systems—we learn a Person, Jesus Christ.

We become more like Christ not by mastering rules, but by deepening our relationship with Him. We are called to “put on” the new self because He put on Himself what we put off—our sin. As 2 Corinthians 5:21 says, “He became sin who knew no sin, that we might become His righteousness.” The more we grasp this truth and let it dwell in our hearts, the more our motivations change, and we are transformed from the inside out.

As Emily’s Uber faded into the night, I took a moment to look around at the scene. To the world, none of it made sense—a Thrift Market more focused on building relationships, creating a welcoming and fun environment for the neighborhood, and sharing the love of Jesus than on making a profit. We were practically giving things away. The costs of marketing barely broke even with what we earned. But none of that mattered. If God had set everything up just for Emily, for her story to be part of something bigger, revealing His glory, then that was the true purpose. Something that would matter for eternity.

At first, I was discouraged, not motivated to set up for the market. I couldn’t seem to get the church interested, unified, or wanting to be involved. But then, as the chapel filled with people, and I witnessed the divine appointment with Emily unfold before my eyes, the Lord spoke to my heart. He settled me with these words: “It’s about Me, right? And didn’t I choose you?” In that moment, my heart filled with awe. What an incredible privilege to be chosen by Him, to do even the smallest tasks for His sake, and to be seen by Him. I realized how blessed I was to be counted not among the outcasts, the sinners, the broken, the lonely.

I felt the weight of that truth. I put on my new self with its new motives—to please Him alone. All I had to do was remember that He did the opposite for me. The divine took on a human birth so that humanity could experience a divine one. I put off my old, corrupt, filthy garments and put on what is His—something new, something that grows stronger and better over time. He, who was clean, glorious, and perfect, equal with His Father, set it all aside and took on weak, suffering human nature. He wore my filthy garments so I could wear His righteousness. What incredible love.

That truth is what transforms a heart and mind from the inside out. It’s the daily application of the Gospel, speaking it to my own heart, that changes everything. I thank God for Emily—someone I may never see again—who gave me a visible reminder of everything I needed that night.