Tag: grace

I don’t really know what I’d expected.  She was only five feet tall, if that, as she emerged from her cell.  Her body was bent under a weight as she shuffled forward, her gaze fixed downward.  When she finally looked up, I recognized her from the six o’clock news.

She was the one who’d thrown her two small children off the bridge and was nearly ready to jump when a passerby tackled her.

I’d been told the other chaplains were “too busy” to visit.  She sat emotionless, eyes downcast, as I wondered what kind of monster throws her own children to their death.  Looking up tearfully, she finally spoke.  “Chaplain, I’m a Christian.  I know what God thinks of murderers.  I’m going to rot in hell, aren’t I?”

Was this a question or pronouncement?

What could I say?  God would have to give me a reason to speak grace. “Well…” I hesitated, still wrestling with the horror of such evil, “what does the Bible say?”

Her voice was monotone.  “Revelation talks about murderers being thrown in a fiery lake.”

I knew the Scripture, and at that moment such judgment seemed justified.

Suddenly, a picture of the criminal on the cross beside Jesus flashed through my mind.  He’d humbly admitted his mistakes and asked Jesus to remember him.  I reminded her that Jesus said the thief would be with Him that day in Paradise though he couldn’t undo his sins.

A tear dropped to her hands below.

After several silent moments, she asked, “When I die and have to face my child on judgment day…well…how can he ever forgive me?”

At that moment, my ears caught the words of the singer on the television overhead:

He became sin who knew no sin; that we might become His righteousness; He humbled Himself and carried the cross.  Love so amazing!  Jesus Messiah… blessed Redeemer… Emmanuel…*   

That was it—Emmanuel—God with us.

I thought of the ways God had been with me in the midst of my own hell, and realized that God was there with this woman too, beside her in her prison cell of remorse, her quagmire of guilt, and had already made a way for her—even her!  He would stand beside her on that day she faced her Maker and her son.  Jesus’ sacrifice had paid the price for forgiveness—an unreasonable grace—most would say “a scandalous grace” for so hideous an act.

As I walked out of the jail that day, I couldn’t help but think of my own sin—the many regrets I could not undo.  And then I realized that without such grace—without such scandalous grace—we’d all be lost.

* Jesus Messiah by Jesse Reeves, Daniel Carson, Ed Cash, Chris Tomlin Copyright © 2008 sixsteps Music/worshiptogether.com

My friend Annie McPeak (a pseudonym) serves as a chaplain at a maximum security women’s correctional facility where she ministers to inmates who have committed crimes ranging from substance abuse to murder.  Annie marvels that the inmates who acknowledge their sins and receive God’s grace in Jesus Christ become truly transformed and experience a greater freedom than many who have never been incarcerated.