Judge and advocate…

The space was 8 paces by 10. Judging by my size 11 feet I assumed that was 8’ x 10’. Counting the ceiling tiles, which I had done several times, the footage seemed correct. The room itself was painted a colorless color, nothing to excite the senses, bathed in the harsh glow of fluorescent lights embedded in the ceiling. There was one door and it was heavy metal painted prison grey with an observation window about the size of my hand. Two basic bunkbeds against the far wall, each with one pillow, one blanket, and one sheet. This was my cell and had been my home for the last 3 weekends, as it would be for one more.

This was the modern county lockup. Gone were the bars reminiscent of movies or even TV shows like Andy Griffith. Now as you walked the single floor cell block you would see 14 cells, seven each side. The doors painted the same color and the hall washed in the same colorless paint. I was in 4L, which I supposed stood for number 4 left. I had plenty of time to think of such things during my 48 hour stays, seeing weekend ‘customers’ were not allowed books or anything except beltless pants and pocketless shirts. This was unlike the ‘timers’ who were serving extended weeks or months in lockup. They could have books and were allowed writing material, not in the cell, but at the central tables located in the community hallway. This is also where all in the block were fed. I could tell that these rules had not always been followed, the wall near the bed had graffiti and some morosely lyrical words written in several locations, at least in 4L.

I was doing time because of a DUI bust that had happened two months earlier on Memorial Day. I had driven my convertible over to the bar early, intending just to have a few then head out to a picnic planned by some friends. But good intentions do not always lead to good deeds and I was still in the bar 8 hours later. Driving out of the parking lot I was almost immediately stopped by a State Trooper. Being in one of my smart guy drunk moods, I refused to take a sobriety test, then refused a breathalyzer and to add insult to injury refused a blood test. This in Utah was an immediate loss of license for one-year, mandatory hefty fine, drunk school and county lockup time to be set by the judge. Drunk smart guys are not always as smart as they think, so I learned.

By the time I stood before the judge, I no longer had the privilege to drive. I had attended two weeks of two-hour drunk school sessions. And now I was ready for the final pay out. This was not my first DUI or even my first in the state of Utah, but I was hoping those earlier ones had been expunged, some had but some hadn’t. With my antics during my arrest and record of repeat drunkenness this judge seemed ready to throw the book at me. As I stood there, she did not look at me but reading what I assumed was my file she said in a gruff voice, “Sir, give me one good reason I should not fine you to the max and let you rot in a county cell.” With that she did look directly at me, it was my turn to bow my head. Then looking up I said, “Your honor, I am guilty of all the charges just read. I admit that I have had prior drunk driving charges. I can only ask for mercy and hope that you will give me the ability to continue to make a living. That is the best I can ask for.”

Maybe some of you have stood before a judge. I unfortunately have stood before many. I have stood defiant or I have begged for mercy. The one thing I know is human judges are fickle. I am not saying they are crooked or corrupt. I just mean they are fallible and not all sentences go by the book.

I started thinking about this DUI case this morning during my devotions containing this verse, “My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous; and he is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.” (1 John 2: 1-2) As I stood before the judge that day my fate was in the hands of a woman who could judge me by law and by whim, I stood there alone. I had no lawyer or advocate. One was offered but I knew my guilt and just wanted to get it over with. Today, my life is very different. But I still know my guilt. It may not be so blatant as back then, but I am a sinner just the same. But now there is a difference.

The difference is that today I know that I do have a lawyer, an advocate, who stands before the Father and says, “I have washed John’s sins in my own blood.” And not just mine but the whole worlds. By grace, undeserved merit, my sins are forgiven. I still need to confess but, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9) Nothing I do it is all because of Jesus and the cross.

And the really cool thing is that someday soon we will stand before Jesus, who will now not only be our advocate, but he will be the judge too. The one who died to save me will judge me sinless because I believe I am washed in his blood.

The human judge back in 1999 was not as gracious. She fined me to the max but because of a letter by my employer allowed me to serve my time on the weekends. It was during those times I came to know that cell intimately. I have never been in a physical cell since. But I lived in prison just the same for another 10 years until I experienced the judge and advocates grace that truly set me free. Today I remember those experiences and know I am blessed. May you be so blessed also. Confess your sins and throw yourself on the mercy of the one who died to save you and this sinner too!

Blessings John
3/13/19

Author: John

Christian blogger