Volume 28, No. 11                                                     
March 16, 2003

Sentence Fragments

   Everything seemed normal in the Denver courtroom until Judge Claudia Jordan quietly passed her clerk a note that read, “Blind on the right side.  May be falling.  Please call someone.”

   Alarmed, the clerk phoned for help then whispered to the judge that paramedics were on their way.  Paramedics?  Judge Jordan was puzzled.  She pointed to a sagging Venetian blind on the right side of the room and said,”I wanted someone from maintenance.”   

   There was a surprise of a different kind in the courtroom of Judge James Warren in San Francisco.  When Albert Brown appeared for sentencing on charges of selling dope, Judge Warren handed the man one of his judicial robes and said, “This is your life... Sentence yourself.”  In tears, Brown gave himself six months in jail and, according to news reports, “tacked on a string of self-imposed conditions, such as cleaning himself up for his kids, and steering clear of the neighbourhood where he got busted.”  Speaking to reporters, Judge Warren said, “I had the transcript typed up and sent to him, just in case he forgets.”

   An adolescent thief in North Carolina won’t soon forget his sentence. Judge Don Overby sent him home with instructions to bring back his most prized possession.  The lad returned with a cherished remote-controlled car, which the judge promptly smashed to bits with a hammer.  Judge Overby routinely handles first offenders this way.  He got the idea after being robbed himself.  “I remember wishing [the guilty] could feel the same sense of loss I did,” he says.

   That situation isn’t so very different from the one we find ourselves in when we stand before the Judge to confess our guilt in connection with the death of his Son.  When we finally realize, at the deepest level, that our sins sent Jesus to the cross;  that He died to take the punishment that rightfully belonged to you and me;  then we can be gin to see things in a whole new Light.  God demands that each of us give up whatever we hold dearest.  Not out of spite or revenge, but to show us that nothing we surrender can equal the total, traumatic loss He suffered in letting his Son face torture and humiliation for the ungrateful guilty.  The apostle Paul understood that, so he could give up power, position and prestige and say, “I once thought all those things were so very important, but now I consider them worthless because of what Christ has done.” (Phil. 3: 7)  It’s only when we truly come to know Jesus that we can submit ourselves to the authority of God without bitterness or resentment.  That takes time, energy and trust.

   But once we experience the care and mercy of the Lord, we see how utterly ridiculous it is when critics disdainfully dismiss our faith with the endlessly-asked question of how a loving God could send his creatures to hell.  He doesn’t, of course. Instead, the Judge respects our free will and presents the truth and consequences of both obedience and rebellion.  Then he passes us the robes of personal responsibility and says, “This is your life... Sentence yourself.”  

   Even when we choose repentance and full pardon made possible through Jesus, we’re often much harder on ourselves than He’d be.  Even so, we, too, need to clean up our act for the sake of our kids. Besides, God expects us to live up to the commitments we make, and He provides a written Record so we don’t forget.  Keep it handy.

   Remember, your Judge always stands ready to help you become a model citizen of the Kingdom.  In fact, He shows such faith in you, He’s made you a servant of the Court itself.  As you assume this role, your sole responsibility is to pay attention to what’s going on around you and wait for his direction.  He’ll show you how and when to respond in places where He’s already working.

   Ultimately, the secret to hearing his voice clearly and correctly is to avoid distraction and not to jump to conclusions.  Be receptive.  Seek clarity and confirmation. Expect accountability. But never forget God’s greatest joy comes in declaring us acquitted through Christ. In the eyes of our loving Father, the Word is more important than the sentence.

By Rick Gamble, published in Cross Current, the weekly newsletter of the Followers of Christ congregation in Brantford, Ontario, Canada.  Reprint at will in not-for-profit publications.  To subscribe, contact sgamble@bfree.on.ca