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J Justification
"Notable Dates" in the history of the U.S. national debt:
1942 $100 billion
1944 $200 billion
1975 $500 billion
1982 $1 trillion
1986 $2 trillion
1990 $3 trillion
1992 $4 trillion
1996 $5 trillion
Even though the increase of the debt level has slowed a bit in recent years, it still continues to climb. It is inconceivable that the U.S. will ever figure out a way to cancel the debt.
We are reminded of the truth of the spiritual song: "He paid a debt he did not owe / I owed a debt I could not pay / Christ Jesus paid the price / and washed my sin away."
Source: USA Today, 2/15/1994, p. 12A
Topics/Tags: Jesus, the christ, salvation by; Debt; Justification
"THE ROOM"
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "People I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life.Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed". The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed At". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents".
I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file.
I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it
at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With".
The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all.
The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response.
And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Source: unknown
Topics/Tags: Jesus, the christ, salvation by; Justification; Sorrow; Deeds
Nome, Alaska, on the edge of the Bering Sea, is like many villages of the Arctic. The ground on which the community sits is frozen, sponge-like tundra. Burying the dead is a real challange. Sanitation landfills are unheard of. Garbage trucks do not haul off the kind of refuse we leave curbside in the "lower 48." Instead a typical front yard displays broken washing machines, junked cars, old toilets, scrap wood, and piles of nondegradable refuse.
Tourists who visit Nome in the summer are amazed at the debris and shake their heads. How could anyone live like that, they wonder. What those visitors do not realize is that for nine months of the year Nome sits under a blanket of snow that covers the garbage. During those months, the little Iditarod town is a quaint winter wonderland of pure white landscapes.
The reality of grace is that the garbage of our lives has been covered by a blanket of forgiveness. The prophet Isaiah declares that the blight of our sin, once red as crimson, is now white as freshly fallen snow. And unlike the situation in Nome, our sin is covered forever!
Source: Greg Asimakoupoulos
Topics/Tags: Justification; Forgiveness; Redemption; Sin, forgiveness of
Paul Harvey once told of a little boy, whom doting parents had spoiled into a brat. The boy carried with him a sack, and in the sack there was the most pitiful kind of stirring. He had captured some tiny birds. The sound of imprisoned wing-beats slapped hopelessly at the heavy manila walls. A pitiful chirping now and then issued from the little paper prison that he swung at his side. He met an old man as he walked along.
"Whatcha got in that sack?" asked the old man.
"I got a sack full of sparrows!" said the little boy.
"What are you going to do with them?" asked the old man.
"I'm going to take them out of the sack, one by one, and tease them—pull a feather out now and then, and then I'll release them to the cat for his dinner."
"How much would you sell the whole sack for?" asked the old man.
The little boy thought for a moment and decided that he should put a lot of capital on the venture and dicker down if he had to, so he threw out the figure: "I'll take two dollars for the sack!"
"Done," said the old man; and he reached in his pocket, pulled out the two dollars, and gave them to the lad. The lad then handed him the sack. The old man held it far more kindly than the reckless youngster had.
In a moment he untwisted the coiled paper neck of the bag and pulled it open. In but a little bit, the sky connected brilliantly with the open inside of the bag and the birds were gone.
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And so it happened one day that God met Lucifer with a huge bag. Inside the bag were the most hopeless sounds of life struggling to be free. Humanity was bagged for brokenness. Bagged were the sounds of human children crying into stolid sacksides—the sounds of old men wailing in pain.
"What have you got in the bag?" asked the Father.
"The people," smirked Lucifer.
"And what will you do with them?"
"I will torment them one by one, and when they are all worn out with trials, I will throw them into hell."
"And what will you take for all of them?"
"Your only Beloved."
"Done!" said the Father. And He reached down to earth and gave us the gift of His Son.
And in such a happy trade-off have we come to hold the key to the resurrection and the life.
Source: Calvin Miller, "Call in the Witnesses," in Proclaim! Spring 1999, pp. 6-7.
Topics/Tags: Jesus, the christ, death of; Redemption; Justification; Torments
By Laws and Ordinances you will not be saved, since you came not in by the Door. And as for this Coat that is on my back, it was given me by the Lord of the Place whither I go; and that, as you say, to cover my nakedness with. And I take it as a token of his kindness to me; for I had nothing but Rags before; and besides, thus I comfort myself as I go: Surely, think I, when I come to the Gate of the City, the Lord thereof will know me for good, since I have his Coat on my back! A Coat that he gave me freely in the day that he stript me of my Rags. I have moreover a Mark in my forehead, of which perhaps you have taken no notice, which one of my Lord's most intimate Associates fixed there in the day that my Burden fell off my shoulders. I will tell you, moreover, that I had then given me a Roll sealed, to comfort me by reading, as I go on the Way; I was also bid to give it in at the Celestial Gate, in token of my certain going in after it; all which things I doubt you want, and want them, because you came not in at the Gate.
— John Bunyan, The Pilgrim's Progress
Source: John Bunyan, The Pilgrim's Progress
Topics/Tags: Grace; Salvation; Justification
To live by the law of Christ and accept him in our hearts is to turn a giant floodlight of hope into our valleys of trouble.
- Charles R. Hembree
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A man can accept what Christ has done without knowing how it works; indeed, he certainly won't know how it works UNTIL he's accepted it.
- C. S. Lewis
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You are not accepted by God because you deserve to be, or because you have worked hard for Him; but because Jesus died for you.
- Colin Urquhart
Topics/Tags: Acceptance; Justification
Browse By Topic J Justification