Let Him In!

                 

Jack was jogging through his local county park one grey afternoon when he felt an intense pain run down his left arm. Slowing his pace he turned down a wooded path that led back to his car. The light grew dimmer, and then, much to his surprise, the sun appeared and he noticed a wall on each side that he’d never seen before. At the end was a white gate, then a green garden filled with sunshine.

When Jack reached the gate a kind-faced woman opened it, smiled and said, “Welcome Jack. I’m Marie. They’re expecting you. Please sit over by the flowering tree and someone will be right with you.”

Then she walked about 30 yards, went through a door in a hedge, and was gone.

Jack knew he should be disturbed by these strange circumstances, yet he wasn’t. He felt uncommonly relaxed. He was wondering what tree produced such colorful and fragrant blossoms, and where his car had gone, when a young handsome man approached him. 

“Welcome, Jack,” he said. “I’m Elias. I just want to ask you a few questions and your escort will take you to your room. Do you have any favorite colors?”

“Well, I really like yellows, bright blue and white. But why do you want to know?” asked Jack. 

”We’re getting  your place ready for you,” Elias said as he made notes in a file folder. “What view do you prefer: woods, fields, mountains, lake?” 
“Lake, please,” said Jack. “But tell me, why am I here? Am I dead?” 
“Not anymore,” Elias said.“You had a heart attack on the jogging path. When you walk through the door in the hedge you will enter unending life. There is just one thing you will do before you go to that door. It is our custom here to let the newest arrival greet the next arrival, as Marie greeted you. I’ll stay here with you until he arrives.”

Jack couldn’t tell how long they waited. It seemed to him that time was no longer important. He felt content and joyful like never before. He wanted to sit there forever. Then he heard steps approaching the gate. Elias took out another file and said, “This is Mike. Please open the gate and let him in.”

Jack happily walked toward the gate, but when he saw Mike, everything changed.

A volcano of fear, grief, hate and anger erupted inside Jack. He reheard the shouts, the shots, the explosive crash, saw the blood everywhere and felt the cold face of the friend he loved.

“No!” he cried. “No! I can’t let him in. Elias, don’t you know what he did?”

Elias’s eyes spoke understanding, but his voice was steady and low. “No, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have his record?” insisted Jack incredulously.

“No, we don’t. All records were destroyed by our Lord.”

“There must be a record somewhere,” Jack insisted.

“Oh, yes, there is, but it’s not here.  The Accuser has it. He saves everything.”

“The Accuser?”

“Yes, the Accuser. In Hebrew he’s called Satan.”

“Wait, you have some records. When I got here you knew my name and some of my history.”

“Oh, yes, of course we know some things, like when you started to follow the Lord.  Let me see. Michael Sullivan.  Born again April 18, 2021, McCreary Prison, Lexington, Kentucky.”

“You have prisoners here?!” Jack exclaimed.

“Oh, no! We don’t imprison anyone. That would be the other place. So, are you going to let him in?”

“Look, I don’t see why I am under any obligation to open the door for Mike. That would be like saying I forgive him for what he did to me.”

“Precisely”

“But I never agreed to that.”

“Oh, but you did.  Thousands of times.”

“Thousands of times? When?”

“Did you ever pray the prayer the Lord taught his disciples?” Elias asked. “You call it the Lord’s Prayer.”

“Of course I’ve prayed it.  Ever since I was a kid.  We even used to pray it in school when I was little. What’s that got to do with this?”

After a pause, Elias continued, “Did you pray ‘forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us?’”

After a long silence Jack admitted he had.

“Well, then,” Elias said.  “Forgive Mike the way our Lord has forgiven you…totally.”

“But that’s impossible,” Jack wailed.

“God never asks us to do impossible things. Hard, but not impossible.”

“But, can’t I ask God to forgive me even if I can’t forgive Mike?”

“Let me ask you something, Jack. Do you remember the story of the prodigal son? Even when his father begged him, the older son refused to join the party.

Jack quickly glanced at Mike, waiting to be let in, and nodded.

“Do you still have the letter?” Elias asked.

Jack knew what letter Elias meant, the letter from the Victim-offender Reconciliation Program at the prison. 

“Look,” continued Elias. “the door to unending life is right over there. It’s called forgiveness. It’s not called, “I forgive” or “I’m forgiven”  it’s simply called “forgiveness.”  You either want to go there, or you don’t. As soon as you let Mike in you can go together.”

Jack shook his head. “I can’t. I’m not ready.  I need more time.”

“You want more time, Jack?” Elias asked.

Jack nodded.

“Granted.”

Jack felt his body lift and fall. Glaring lights blinded him.  He heard a “beep, beep, beep” over his head.

“He’s back,” exclaimed a woman in blue scrubs.

‘Oh, no!” thought Jack. “What have I done?”

***********************

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you. Ephesians 4:32

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses. Mark 11:25

The Power of Brandt Jean

Suddenly last week news shows and social media were filled with the gentle, articulate voice of Brandt Jean.  His forgiveness for his brother’s murderer was unexpected, but not unprecedented (Rev. Anthony B. Thompson forgave his wife’s killer in another poignant courtroom confrontation four years ago in Charleston.)

Some online discussion that followed distracted us from the import of this act. Let’s go back to Brandt and the power of what he did.

brandt-jean-testimony-700x438

The news that someone you love has been murdered pounds you.  Many years ago my friend Frank was shot in the face and died instantly.  When I heard, I felt someone had beaten me.  To the weight of grief was added the assault of evil.

We can hardly start to fathom the depth of Brandt’s pain over the loss of his brother Botham, but we can profoundly value it.  And that is what makes Brandt’s gift of forgiveness to Amber Guyger so stunningly powerful.

You may be thinking Amber does not deserve forgiveness, but think for a moment how you know that.  How do you know there is a moral law that says murder is wrong? How do you know that anything is wrong? How do you know that you, yourself, have done wrong?  I know you know that, as I know I have done serious wrong.

God put a moral law in our hearts;  when we break it, we break ourselves.  We can try hard to escape the despair of that brokenness, to push the pain away anyway we can, but we can’t keep it away.

But God, in Christ, took that pain on himself and died to remove our brokenness.  Christ has told us to pray, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”

“I hope you go to God with all the guilt, all the bad things you’ve done in the past.” Brandt told Amber. “If you truly are sorry, I know, I can speak for myself – I forgive you, and I know if you go to God and ask him, he will forgive you.”

Brandt lives in the forgiveness that has given life to him, and so he has the power to invite Amber to live also.  

There are only two choices:  to spend our days bickering and blaming, while the guilt in our souls destroys us, or to accept God’s forgiveness and offer mercy to everyone, even those who harm us.

“I want the best for you, because that’s exactly what Botham would want you to do. And the best would be to give your life to Christ,” Brandt said. “I’m not going to say anything else. I think giving your life to Christ would be the best thing that Botham would want you to do. Again, I love you as a person, and I don’t wish anything bad on you.”

I hope the power of this reaches you.  

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