Thursday, May 14, 2020

We are Not Condemned



Victor Hugo, in his work, The Last Day of a Condemned Man, writes the story of a man sentenced to death, awaiting execution. It opens with the words of the prisoner, “Condemned to death! These five weeks have I dwelt with this idea: always alone with it, always frozen by its presence; always bent under its weight…I am a captive! Bodily in irons in a dungeon, and mentally imprisoned in one idea. One horrible, one hideous, one unconquerable idea! I have only one thought, one conviction, one certitude: Condemned to death! Whatever I do, that frightful thought is always here, like a specter, beside me, solitary and jealous, banishing all else, haunting me forever, and shaking me with its two icy hands whenever I wish to turn my head away, or to close my eyes.” 

“Condemned to death.” He was tried, convicted, and sentenced. The damnatory sentence has already been pronounced. No appeals. No future court dates. Condemned to death. It consumed him because he lived under the weight of that terrible sentence. How awful, condemned to die. Did you know there is already a sentenced passed on you? In Adam, we died. In Adam, we sinned. The damnatory sentence is already passed upon all humanity. Men do not wait to stand before God at the judgment to determine their eternal destiny. You may know John 3:16, but do you know John 3:18 where Jesus said, “that believeth not is condemned already.” The sentence is passed. You are guilty and already convicted. 

But did you know there is a pardon? “There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus,” Romans 8:1. There is pardon available. Now. Not to wait and see, not to labor to it. Not to perform community service for God by good works to make up for it. There is free and full pardon. How? In Christ. The first part of  John 3:18 tells the tale, “He that believeth on him is not condemned.” The blessed doctrine of justification by faith, that the Lord Jesus died in the place of sinners, to pay our debt to divine justice, that we may stand, pardoned, our sins paid for, and receive his righteousness as our own. Our sins gone, and we may leave the dungeons of our wickedness, free and clear. There is now, at this present time for the Christian, no condemnation in Christ.  

We are not condemned. Chastisements are not judgments, for we are not condemned. Afflictions are not judgments, for we are not condemned. Trials are not a foretaste of Hell, but mercy in our sanctification. We may be sick, but we are not condemned. We may be poor, but we are not condemned. We may be hungry, but we are not condemned. We may be lonely, but we are not condemned. We may be hated, but we are  not condemned. We may be betrayed by brothers and forgotten by friends, but we are not condemned. 

But doesn't that do harm to justice? It's wonderful news for the condemned man, but what about righteousness? In the book, as far as I can recall, you are never explicitly told what he did. You feel for him. You feel sorry that his young daughter didn’t recognize him the last time he saw her dad. You feel for him as the crowds are lustful for his decapitation. It’s hinted he killed a man in cold blood for no reason. But hey, that’s beside the point Hugo was trying to make. He was against the death penalty and he wants you to think twice about what is happening to the condemned man when he’s about to die. Whether he knew it or not, he was against more than capital punishment. He was also against justice and righteousness. When you fail to punish the guilty, you punish the innocent.

The condemned murder suffered because the weight of his execution was at hand, and that was dreadful —  it was also dreadful for the widow, also sitting home alone, suffering because of the weight of her grief over her murdered husband. It’s sad to think of the condemned man’s little girl — but what if the murdered man also had a little girl and what will that do to her for the rest of her life? What would it do to the little girl to know the man who murdered her daddy was set free to live his life because Victor Hugo was against justice? His book wants to do away with the consequences of sin. Yes, it’s sad a man has to die. But it’s also sad for the murdered man’s family. For society. For justice.

God pardons. God forgives. God sets free. But God also loves justice. God doesn’t let sin slide by. When God forgives, he doesn’t do harm to justice. He doesn’t fail to punish evil. Exodus 34:6-7  tells us the Lord is “merciful and gracious, longsuffering, and abundant in goodness and truth,  keeping mercy for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin.” Amen and hallelujah!  God is merciful. God forgives sin! And if you keep reading verse seven, it says the Lord “will by no means clear the guilty.” That’s not good news for sinners, because sinners break God’s law, and are guilty. So how does God forgive sin AND not clear the guilty? The cross.  Jesus died on the cross and took all the guilt and sin of his people. The Father then dealt with Jesus like he was a sinner. Instead of dealing with me like a sinner and punishing my sin, Jesus took my sin and took my place and the Father and punished my sin in Jesus. God didn’t do away with justice or let sin slide. The sinless Christ was my substitute. He bore my sin and sacrificed himself so I may live. On the cross, Jesus paid my debt to justice in full (Psalms 85:10).

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