Hard Lesson “The Law Has No Ears”
I was laying face down on the parking lot pavement of the bank where I had been a customer for the past 30 years. A couple blocks from my home, the bank rested in the shadow of the church where I served as pastor for most of my adult life. I could see the puzzled look on the tellers faces as they quickly locked the doors and declared to one another, “It’s Charlie!”
Three police cars had converged on mine. Guns were pointed as the leader of the team loudly directed from behind his open squad car door. “Get on your belly and place your hands behind your back!” “Now!”
Psychologists’ refer to the phenomenon I was experiencing as Flooding; like a slot machine, thoughts were speeding through my mind too quickly to identify and process. Finally, enough clarity settled in and I assumed that this moment may have something to do with the car I was driving.
I have what is called a 501c3 non-profit certification for my ministry organization which allows me to take donations and give tax deductible receipts. Ten days prior, Peter called and said, his friend Andy, Campus pastor at Calvin College, had come to San Diego to get his sister and bring her back to Grand Rapids, Michigan. Her Alzheimer’s had deteriorated to the point that she needed a higher level of care. Peter said that Andy wanted to donate her car to the ministry, but they needed to get to the airport in short order. I threw on a sweater and quickly drove the mile that separates our
houses.
When I arrived at Peter’s, Andy handed me the title, keys, and a note with the address where I could pick up the car. We blessed each other and they were off to the airport. I called my son, Eric, to drive me to North Park where we found the parking complex that fit Andy’s description. I saw the 1989 Nissan. Eric waited while I took the keys, unlocked the door, and started the car. He followed me home where I left the car for the next 10 days, until this morning where I stopped by the bank to withdraw some money for detailing.
As the handcuffs were being clamped on my wrists I said, “Officer, can you please take my cell phone and call Peter. He’s on my contact list. Whatever the problem is, he can clear it up.” I was stunned to find that there was no response… I was beginning to understand that The Law Has No Ears
It was 10am and I was placed in the back of the sheriff’s car and driven to the Lemon Grove substation where I was given 3 minutes to answer questions for the only officer I saw for the next 3 hours. He never once made eye contact and said nothing in response to my answers. My inquiries for additional information went unacknowledged.
At 1:00 pm I was transported downtown to county jail with a young man who was also handcuffed and placed next to me in the back of the police car. His sweater was full of stickers and his clothes were dirty. He told me that he didn’t know the girl was underage, but when her father called the police he took off running and hid in the bushes. I am not sure if what he said about being a navy seal was true, but I do know that he was coming on to a very powerful drug.
I became frightened when he exhibited uncanny flexibility in the back seat where we were sitting, by lifting his legs up to his chest and moving his handcuffed wrists underneath his feet and out to the front of his stomach. “Don’t say anything,” he suggested… “For sure, no, no, won’t say a thing.”
When we got to county jail, the police officer told him to get those things behind his back. He amazingly reversed the procedure,
putting his cuffs behind his back, just before they placed the two of us in a small holding cell.
At this point things became even more surreal. As this young Caucasian man was coming onto the drugs, he began to yell out racist words to Hispanics and African America inmates who were passing by our cell. Immediately there were a number of guys who wanted into our small confines. Before long my cellmate was not only challenging everyone who passed by, but he was seeing Moses, Napoleon and Jesus… (I wasn’t much interested in Moses and
Napoleon, but I had been praying for awhile that Jesus would show up)
It doesn’t take a master clinician to know that the young man was in serious psychological trouble. I told an officer passing by that “I am a therapist and this man is having a psychotic break. He is in need of clinical help,” The officer glanced at me as if I were the delusional inmate, but didn’t say a thing… The Law Has No Ears
I called my friend Buddy, who has a line of credit on his house. After several poignant questions, he determined me to be a low flight risk and he graciously posted the $25,000 bail. For the next 15 hours, I tried to find someone who would hear my story, but no one was listening and finally, at 3:00 am I was released from county jail.
In the morning I went to the complex where 10 days before, I had picked up the car. After knocking on several doors, I encountered a young man who seemed interested in my story. Midway through my explanation, he said, “No, you did not pick up the woman’s car; you took my car and I reported it stolen.” I said, “How could that be, I unlocked and started the car with the keys my friend gave me?” He replied, “Well, I put the locks in myself a year ago and I didn’t do a very good job. Almost any Nissan key will open it and start it… The car you were given was 3 spaces down from mine.”
For those keeping score, you can now add, “Car thief” to my list of “O Wretched man that I am” qualifiers.
However, I looked forward to going to court in 60 days and telling my bizarre story of coincidence and mistaken car identity. A little chuckle, and an affirming nod of the head from a presiding judge, would allow me to exchange the night of pain for my lost dignity and bring a sense of closure to the whole matter.
But when I arrived at court and checked in with the clerk, the paperwork I received, stated, “Case Dismissed!” No reason, no explanation, just, “Case Dismissed!” I was angry. I didn’t want my case dismissed without the opportunity to give an explanation. I wanted someone, somewhere, to look me in the eye and to listen to me… At that moment, I wanted someone to hear my story, even more than I wanted Buddy’s $25,000.
I walked quickly back to the clerk and asked, “Who came to this conclusion?” “How did they come to this conclusion?” and “Who determined this to be a mistake?” The young woman stated directly and firmly, “Case Dismissed!
What could I say? The Law Has No Ears.
Scripture states that the law is Holy, and the Law is spiritual. (Romans 7:12-14) There is nothing flawed in the Law. Jesus said, he “did not come to destroy it, but to fulfill.” He did so, on our behalf.
But while the law is holy, just, good, and true, the commandments were written on tables of stone that had to be hidden from the people of Israel behind an impenetrable veil. Only one man (High Priest) one time a year (Day of Atonement) could enter into the Holy of Holies and view the commandments which lay in the Ark of the Covenant. It was not the law that was flawed, but the people. And when broken people stand before a Holy Law the sound is deafening. Because even though the Law does not have ears, it always SPEAKS until it just demands are silenced.
It was mercy which allowed the High Priest to carry blood from the sacrificial animal into the Holy of Holies. When he stood face to face with the Holy Law he was cut to the core by the reality of his own sins and the sins of the people. The sound of unadulterated truth, unaccompanied by empathy, understanding, compassion or love made it unbearable to stand before the tablets inscribed by God Himself.
In quick order the High Priest would take from his vial and spread the blood over the commandments to silence them. In mercy and pardon, when Almighty God looked down from heaven, he would not see the Holy Law, but rather the blood covering the tables of stone. The ritual quieted the voice of the commandments, until it could be performed again the following year.
What does this mean for us?
There are voices around us each day that position their chair on top of the Holy Tables of Stone. They use the voice of the holy commandments to empower themselves and intimidate or control the weak. When they SPEAK, they speak nothing of their own weakness, because no weakness is permitted on the perch they have chosen. This is the reason that it is not in our best interest to listen to the voice of anyone who cannot acknowledge and embrace their own weakness. The voice of the one who has set their seat upon the commandments of stone, has no other stream to follow, but futility, condemnation, and death. For this reason, when we hear the voice fueled by Law, we most naturally, wither, recoil and distance.
But we have an Advocate; the Lamb who was slain from the foundation of the world… The Lamb, who silenced the Holy Writ once and for all, by His own blood… The Lamb of God, who did not speak, but always heard… He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth: he is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he openeth not
his mouth. Isaiah 53:7
When He gave His all for us, He did so to silence the demands of justice required by the Tables of Stone.
He demonstrated it personally, when the woman taken in adultery was thrown before Him half-naked in the Temple… He again said not a word. He would not, because the Law was still SPEAKING and the healing voice of grace could not be heard.
“The Law declared…Adultery” “Death to her…” “Would you defy Moses?”
He stooped down, shielding His eyes from the woman buried in her shame. He wrote on the ground.
When the crowd read what he wrote those who sat on the Tables of Stone began to leave; one by one. Perhaps he had written dates and times of their own sin, or perhaps He wrote the commandments in big enough print for them to finally “Get it” for themselves.
But regardless of what He wrote the voice of the Law was silenced, making room for the voice of mercy and grace. It was only after the voice of the Law had been silenced that He gave her first His eyes, and then His voice…
“Woman, where are thine accusers?” “There are none Lord” …….
“Neither do I condemn you…. Go, sin no more.”
At our Table Talk gatherings, we present ourselves to the Lord in the presence of others. We bring our Gifts, (Gratitude) and our sacrifices. (Struggles, challenges, weaknesses) The intentional silence that follows is meant to quiet the voice of condemnation and awaken our longing to hear His coming grace.
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