A Less Obvious Sinner Confesses.
There are few things worse than the feeling you get in the pit of your stomach when a police officer steps out onto the road ahead and waves you into the kerb.
Worse still, though, is when it happens to a minister whose mind is on his Sunday morning sermon, when it should be on the speed limit.
It happened to me once, while driving my mother-in-law to her home. A few hours from then, I was to preach on the subject of Forgiveness, and was deep in thought about what I might say.
Forgiveness is so basic to everyday life that it would be easy, you might think, to come up with an example that would help Mr. And Mrs. Average Australian to receive it. Not so.
My thoughts were scattered by the driver of a rumbling gas-guzzler who suddenly roared past me on the highway. My immediate reaction was probably as noxious to the Lord as his exhaust fumes were to me.
Then it happened.
At the flash of a blue uniform up ahead, my eyes darted automatically at the speedometer. My heart sank when I saw that it showed 70km—in a 60km zone.
Barely had I braked to a halt, when a female police officer smiled at me through the window, and said, “Sorry to pull you over, Sir, but I had to do it to stop the driver in the big car.”
The big car? Turning my head, I saw another police officer, ticket-book in hand, approaching the gas-guzzling sedan that had roared past me only seconds before.
“Um, thank you, officer; that’s quite alright,” I mumbled sheepishly. I couldn’t believe it.
“Well, I never!” said my mother-in-law, as we drove off. I couldn’t wait to get out of the vicinity. I drove like a saint to my mother-in-law’s home, and on the way back couldn’t help but feel sorry for the drivers the police were pulling over on the other side of the highway. I knew exactly how they felt!
It’s not easy to prepare to tell others how to avoid sinning when you’ve just sinned yourself—and escaped by the skin of your teeth! So I decided to unburden myself and tell the church what had happened.
It was then that I again realised what Forgiveness is all about. None of us deserves it. We’re all as guilty as sin. It’s just that some—like the guy in the gas-guzzler—attract more attention.
What a relief it is to be let go free, when you know you don’t deserve it!
I wish I could say that since then I haven’t sinned against the speed limit. But that wouldn’t be true. I’ve experienced that sinking feeling that comes from being waved over to the kerb; and I’ve listened in vain for another apology from a police officer, “Sorry to pull you over, Sir…”
I’m glad that Jesus came to save sinners, and that He didn’t wear a blue uniform!