“One of my buddies oh so casually sidled up to the table and got a good look at the list—it had only one name on it, Nador, the urinal hugger”
Remember the story of the woman caught in adultery that John recounts in his gospel?
“We caught this woman in the act of adultery and by the law of Moses she ought to be stoned!”
Jesus didn’t argue that the woman had not done wrong, he simply argued that no one there had the right to accuse her, to testify against her, because they were all guilty of something as well.
What happened? They all dropped the stones they had been about to pummel her with and walked away leaving the woman standing before Jesus, forgiven and given another chance.
And this was before Jesus had died for our sins, before he had given us his Holy Spirit as a witness to our place in him. Yet no one could stand up to him and say, she deserves to die for her sin! Let alone cast the first stone.
Imagine the authority and the protection he gives us against those accusations today, even from the chief accuser himself.
The devil will try to mess with your head, but you must not let him, there are no witnesses against you.
I have witnesses
Reminds me of a time back when I was in the Anaconda Job Corps center. I was eighteen years old and stuck in a center with about two hundred other young men, many of whom were always looking for a way to party without getting kicked out.
One guy had the bright idea of hiking the ten miles into Anaconda at night, through the mountains, to buy a bunch of booze and hike back hopefully undetected and unmissed. So he went around in our dorm and solicited money from several guys that he trusted to keep quiet, with the promise that he would bring back alcohol for them.
I was among that group. I don’t remember for sure but I think I might have pitched in ten bucks, it just would not have been cool not too, and I was all about being cool back then.
Honestly, I thought he was nuts and I really didn’t think he could pull it off, and I would get my money back and we would all have a good laugh at his expense and move on.
But lo and behold he made it through the mountains to the Liquor store on a Friday night, filled his back pack with whiskey, and got back and into bed before the RA (Resident Advisor) realized he was missing as he made his rounds at night.
The next night the party was on. Several of us, maybe ten or so, were taking shots from the bottles, drinking it with coffee or putting it in half full soda cans, whatever, finding ways to consume mass quantities while staying out of the way of the RA and keeping a low profile.
Most of us did alright, except for one guy—Nador.
He did not handle his liquor so well and before the night was over he was hugging a urinal in the large communal rest room, throwing up and shouting his hatred and defiance for all authority and pretty much everyone. He might as well have had a bull horn because his rants were echoing in this large tiled bathroom like an amphitheater and right out the door-less entry, down the hall and into the RA’s office. . . . busted—at least he was.
By this point the rest of us had melted away into our various corners of the dormitory, suddenly we were all sound asleep in our beds, interspersed amongst the other 50 guys in our dorm.
Well, as you can imagine this opened up a big ‘ol can of worms. Drinking on this government run training center was strictly forbidden, as was leaving without permission—otherwise known as being AWOL. Those in charge of the center were determined to get to the bottom of all this; “Who brought in the booze? How did they do it? Who paid for it? Who all was drinking?”
The administrators made a big deal out of finding the answers to all of this. Problem is, no one was talking. They threatened, lectured, offered to go easy on anyone who would give them names—claimed they knew things they didn’t know.
After a few days they tried a different tact, they claimed they had acquired a list of names of all involved and if any of those whose names were on that list would confess, they would just give them a month of KP duty and restriction, instead of kicking them out.
But if anyone who was on that list did not confess, they would be discharged and it would go on your permanent record—the dreaded dishonorable discharge.
The dreaded list. The head administrator would make a big show out of sitting at a table in the mess hall during meals, holding his clip board with the dreaded list on it while giving everyone from our dorm the stink eye. Like he was plotting our demise.
After a few day of this, of compiling his big list of bootleggers, he made the mistake of leaving his list lying on the table as he got up to go to the restroom. One of my buddies oh so casually sidled up to the table and got a good look at the list—it had only one name on it, Nador, the urinal hugger who had drunk his bottle so hard and fast he couldn’t remember his own name that night, let alone who else had been drinking.
Shortly after this, by virtue of being a dorm leader I suppose, I got called into the administrators office for a personal interview. “Dan, we know you know what happened that night, we know your involvement. I like you Dan, you’re a good kid, you’re smart—seriously, you set a record score on your GED test—you don’t want to go down like this.”
The smooth talk was coming on heavy. I calmly replied, I don’t know anything about this.“ Okay, disclaimer here, I was not comfortable lying and I’m not proud that I did, but there was a lot at stake here and I was no saint back then. Knowing Jesus notwithstanding, I was pretty much living for the flesh at the time.
Then came the threats;
“I have witnesses and if you don’t confess to what they tell me about you, you are going to be in real trouble.”
I was not worried in the least. I knew there could be no witnesses to anything serious, I did not bring in the booze and I knew that no one who was drinking with me would say anything, but most reassuringly, I knew that my name was not on that list—there were no accusations against me that could be backed by any witnesses.
But you know what list my name was on? A few months later my name was on the list of people who had completed the program, I had finished my high school education in record time, completed the Heavy equipment operator and the welding programs. I graduated, received my papers, my money and got on with my new life.
My permanent record with the US government was spotless. Was I a perfect student? No, but those who would accuse me were silent and the only testimony on my behalf was positive.
Are you tracking with me here? There is no list of wrongdoing against us and the only list that we are on is in the Lambs book of life. Because we are perfect? No, but because the only one who has the authority to judge us has no charges against us that can be substantiated because the only witness whom the Judge will hear will only testify that we are spotless.
If you have trusted Jesus with your heart, if you are wanting to walk in the Spirit and not in the flesh, you name is written in that book of life and there are no charges against you. You are loved, you are his—you are okay.
We have to know that we are okay, don’t we?
In times like this, it is especially poignant that we know, that we have that witness in our hearts and that we do not let anyone steal it away.
We Have a blessed assurance, we have Jesus.
9 If we receive the witness of men, the witness of God is greater; for this is the witness of God which He has testified of His Son. 10 He who believes in the Son of God has the witness in himself; . . . that you may know that you have eternal life.
1 John 5:9—13