MY JUDGMENT
I was standing at the end of at the end a long, endless queue of people, waiting impatiently for my turn to enter that door that led to what seems to be an auditorium. When my turn to enter came, a huge auditorium, full of people came into view.
Though it was full of people, I was surprised to notice the eerie silence. I could hear some whispers here and there, but generally, it was silent. Then, a man entered through a small side door on the left carrying what seems to be a long pole. He stood up and all eyes focused on the rather large door on the right side of the stage. He said, “Hear yea, hear yea. Everybody, on your feet, for our honourable judge,” as he tapped the floor three times with his pole.
We all stood up, and all eyes focused on the rather large door on the right side of the stage. “That should be the judge,” I thought. He was rather tall and very impressive, elegant, and even magnificent. His presence could be felt in the four corners of that hall. We could only gape at Him. He walked to the judge’s seat. As he sat, he said in a relaxed powerful voice that pierced the heart and soul of everyone, “Let the prosecutor and the defender come in.”
A third door at the back opened and in came to two opposing sides. First, the prosecutor, he was also big, smelled foul, and hissed as he walked to the front. He sat on the left side facing the judge, and turned his back and stared – at me. He smiled but all I could see was the most cruel pair of eyes I’ve ever seen. I tried to look elsewhere, evading his stare. I felt my heartbeats and my knees tremble.
Then, the defender came. He walked quietly to his seat on the right side facing the judge. Before he sat down, I noticed his hands. Each had a hole in it. He also turned around and looked at me. It was the most compassionate pair of eyes I have ever seen.
Three more taps on the floor and everyone sat and kept quiet. It was a nervous silence – eerie and nervous. The prosecutor, the accuser stood up and started talking. “You,” his finger pointed to me, “you are first.” Someone pushed me to the platform. I didn’t even see who it was.
The prosecutor then started his litany of my sins. I was shocked at how detailed and precise he was at narrating them. Even the things I did in secret were now announced for everyone to hear. At the corner of my eyes I could see some people whispering and some others giggling. They were talking about me, my sins. Oh, if I could only melt away right then and there. If I could only disappear at will. Imagine my most embarrassing secrets being announced for everyone to hear. The prosecutor ended with a roar – an insulting sarcastic roar. “She belongs to hell! Sentence her to hell. No one deserves hell more than she does.” Then, he sat down.
Again, there was a hush in the room I expected the judge to echo what the prosecutor said. “She does deserves to be in hell!”
Then, the defendant stood up. “Your honor,” he started. “She is not guilty.” Everyone reacted. “Not guilty? How can that be? She’s guilty! Guilty, guilty!”
I could only bow my head down in admission.
The prosecutor stood up again. In an angry voice, he announced, “the sin of covetousness?” The defender said, “Not guilty.”
“What about the sins of commission? When she did what she should not have done?” “Not guilty,” my defender said.
“What about the sins omission? When she did not do what she ought to do?” “Not guilty.”
“The sin of lying and cheating?” “Not guilty.”
“The sin of hatred?” “Not guilty”
“What?” the prosecutor screamed. And my defender stretched out his open hands and said, “Not guilty, Your Honor. Because of this,” and he showed everyone his nail-pierced hands. The Judge stood up and with a powerful compelling voice declared the verdict, “Not guilty.”
It’s true. It is true. Those who are in Christ have been forgiven. We have been declared not guilty. Amen and amen!
