Mercy... It's In God's Hands

Psalm 94:18 When I said, My foot slippeth; thy mercy, O LORD, held me up.

In God’s justice there is no choice or liberty for the accused. There is no help for the condemned. God's Justice is solid, unquestionable, irreversible, unchangeable… absolute. A person is tried by a perfect law, and judgment flows from an absolute purity in God called Holiness.

But since God's Grace and Mercy entered the scenario of life nothing has been solid in this existence except God, His Word, and His Sovereignty over the affairs of life. Life's experiences under Mercy's rule are fluid, questionable, reversible, changeable… mysterious to us. We can be forgiven...

The first man Adam, who justice condemned to die the very day he broke God's law, was, by God's mercy, allowed to live… but... for how long, and to what extent would he now be punished while he lived? Who decided when the penalty would finally be executed, and what the quality of his life would be while he lived under this Mercy? God. He alone decides when mercy ends and justice begins. We are indeed “at His mercy”.

There are those who would like to concretely say of every matter in life, “If you do that God will do this!” But... we live lives overwhelmed by Mercy not Justice. If it were Justice that ruled... well... we wouldn't be here would we? While we are under the pleasant rule of Mercy we do not always or often receive the punishment we deserve. But don't let the joys of God's mercy lull you to an apathetic sleep, for without the promises found in Jesus and His Gospel, withheld Justice will pile up like storm-water behind a dam of Mercy, a dam which God will one day remove, and unrestrained justice will flow.

For Mercy to exist there must be a Being who has all authority over justice, and, therefore, authority over all the affairs of mankind. This authority extends to the powers of death, hell, and the grave, and liberty from the same.

A Witness In Paradise, And My Confession

Carol and I had the blessing to spend a couple of weeks recently in the rainforest community of Nahiku on the narrow Road to Hana. Most people traveling this famed road would not even know they were in this community unless they took the dead-end Nahiku road that would take them by the historic Nahiku Church just before reaching the coast and turning back to drive the 10 miles to Hana.

The only stores or cafes in Nahiku are 3 or 4 small roadside pullovers on the Road to Hana like Coconut Glen's snack shop or a small Thai Cafe with two picnic tables situated under a huge banyan tree around mile marker 28. They are exclusively designed for tourists. Then there is the Nahiku Market Place, a tourist stop with restrooms, 4 small outdoor cafes, and an actual souvenir shop all huddled under huge trees and vines just before mile marker 29. The Marketplace has the only cafe around Nahiku that opens for the locals at times other than tourist hours. The tourists come between 10 and 3 everyday.

Every morning, rain or shine, between 6am and 9am I would hike for a few miles on some trail in the area, or briskly, and cautiously, walk the Road to Hana, stopping only to take pictures of some flower, plant, or insect, or to just admire God's amazing creation.

Being a former Coffee-holic I still struggle from time to time with the temptation to fall off the wagon and sip a steaming cup in the morning. Walking by the Marketplace one morning I saw the Cafe was open and gave into the temptation to grab a cup.

Standing around outside were a few locals, and a couple of the always present unshaven, unshowered college-age backpackers who looked like time-travelers from the 60's. When I walked up they all stopped talking and just looked at me. It was clear I was a tourist (the longhorn shirt probably gave me away), and was out of place this early in the morning. I also was the only one there whose hair wasn't in a ponytail and who didn't have a string of shells around his neck. They weren't unfriendly just... well... waiting for me to leave, so I walked inside for my coffee.

I was met inside by a young man behind the counter with bright intelligent eyes, a ponytail, and a friendly smile. With his sort of “surfer dude” persona he fit the stereotype of a twenty-something in this area. He held his hand out across the counter and said, “Welcome, I'm Benjamin!” I shook his hand and responded, “Hi, I'm Larry.” He pointed me to the coffee, I served myself and came back over to pay. I noticed, as I paid, that his t-shirt said, “Know Jesus, Know Peace, No Jesus, No Peace.” 

I consider myself to be open to the reality of God working in ways that don't fit my preconceptions, and I believe I am not inclined to prejudice or judgmentalism... but... my thought was, as I paid Benjamin, that he probably just grabbed the t-shirt in a dark room without knowing what it said. I even thought about politely asking him if he believed what his shirt said. But I just walked out and went on my way...

I happened to be walking by the Marketplace on the morning of my last day. I had only been in the Cafe that one time the week before. As I walked by I noticed the door was open, and I heard Benjamin call my name, “Larry, hey Larry, where you been?” So I walked across the road and stepped inside the small cafe.

Benjamin held his hand out again and then introduced me to one of his friends standing by the counter. He asked me where I'd been, so I told him that I had been walking some other trails and that I hated to leave, but this was my last morning to enjoy the beauty that surrounded us. As I said it a look of concern came over his face. He said, “Larry, I can't let you leave without sharing the greatest truth with you. A truth I found seven years ago when I moved to this area to get my head right. It changed my life. It is the truth of God's love for you and the sacrifice that Jesus gave on the cross because of that love...”

I deliberately listened without saying a word. He went on seeking my reconciliation with God out of sincere concern for my soul. He was finally interrupted by a friend who walked through the door. This friend wore only shorts and a string of shells around his neck. He and the girl that was with him had driven up in a beat-up old mini-van to say goodbye to Benjamin since they were leaving the area. They grabbed hands and called each other “brother”. He introduced us, and I openly explained to Benjamin that I was a believer. Then the fellowship began... a 53 year old Christian from Texas, and two young “surfer-dude” Christians from the west coast.

My soul was and still is churning with guilt, thanksgiving, and awe. Guilt for my prejudice, judgmentalism, my lack of overwhelming concern and love for the souls of others, and grief that after all these years it seems I have learned so little. Thanksgiving that someone was concerned for my soul. Thanks Benjamin. And in awe at God. He is amazing. He loves and works with people in places that are outside our own little worlds. And I am oh so glad He does. Looking at myself, and my sin in the context of this experience, it is more amazing to me that God would save a stuffed-shirt like me than a “surfer-dude” like Benjamin. “Oh wretched man that I am...”

Picture: I went back and took this shot, and wanted to take a picture of Benjamin, but he was already off and it was my last day. If you read this Benjamin, please e-mail me a picture of yourself so I can post it.

Jesus Can Change The Prognosis

Mark 2:17 When Jesus heard it, he saith unto them, They that are whole have no need of the physician, but they that are sick: I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Jesus was invited to a feast at Matthew’s house, so Jesus, with a large group of His followers, joined them for the meal. This became a big issue because Matthew (Levi) was a non-practicing Jew, and also a Roman tax collector, and, therefore, an outlaw in the eyes of practicing Jews. And Jesus ate with Matthew and his rejected friends. The practicing Jews saw this as an opportunity to pull followers from Jesus, so they tried to cause division among His followers.

Jesus’ response to their trouble-making is recorded in this text for all time. He was doing what he came to this earth to do: remove the ravages, guilt, and condemnation of sin. He couldn't fulfill His mission without working among the guilty and condemned. His work was and is personal… it was and is up close. He must get close to those who need Him most, and those who need Him most are those who have been convinced by the “righteous” or the law that they are beyond help, that their sickness is incurable. This Physician ignores such a prognosis… and brings hope to the sin-sick.

The Author Of Amazing Grace Preaching In Prison

I took this quote from a letter written by John Newton, former trader of slaves and the author of the hymn Amazing Grace. The more I learn of this man the more I value his heart. LJ

Though He slay me, I will trust in Him; for when He has fully tried me, I shall come forth like gold.

You would have liked to have been with me last Wednesday. I preached at Westminster Bridewell. It is a prison and house of correction. The bulk of my congregation were housebreakers, highwaymen, pickpockets, and poor unhappy women, such as infest the streets of the city, sunk in sin and lost to shame. I had a hundred or more of these before me.

I preached from I Tim. 1:5, and began with telling them my own story: this gained their attention more than I expected. I spoke to them near an hour and a half. I shed many tears myself, and saw some of them shed tears likewise.

Ah! had you seen their present condition, and could you hear the history of some of them, it would make you sing, "O to grace how great a debtor!" By nature they were no worse than the most sober and modest people. And there was doubtless a time when many of them little thought what they should live to do and suffer. I might have been, like them, in chains, and one of them have come to preach to me, had the Lord so pleased.