Forsaken But Not Forgotten
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"Forsaken but not Forgotten" by Peter Andrew Smith
Forsaken but not Forgotten
by Peter Andrew Smith
Psalm 22
John stretched as far as he could until the chains locking him to the hard metal bench rattled. The guard standing across from him looked up.
“Just getting cramps from sitting for so long,” John said.
The guard nodded and talked softly into his radio for a moment. “It shouldn’t be too long. The truck is a block away. Figure it will be about five minutes before we get underway”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
John sat by himself on the bench inside a locked room in the justice centre with a guard watching over him. There was little chance that he could escape even if he had somewhere to go. He was mocked and derided by the crowds outside the courthouse which showed him that even if he could get away there was nowhere for him to go. His family had distanced themselves from him and the whole country hated him.
He closed his eyes. He had trusted the court system to sort out what was a mistake, an error. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. When the police arrested him, he protested his innocence and thought that would be the end of it. When he went to trial, he hoped that when he spoke in court that the jury would see it was all a mistake and that he hadn’t done the horrible things he was accused of doing.
He was stunned when the verdict had been guilty and the judge handed down the death penalty. He had trusted in his innocence. He had trusted in the system and when things were at their darkest he had trusted in God to save him from what was happening. Now he sat alone, convicted of something he had not done and terrified of what was happening to him.
How could God forsake him? He understood that the criminal justice system was broken but he had always been a man of faith, who tried to do what was right and who believed that Jesus had come to save the world.
John bowed his head. I need saving, Lord. Help me. Please. He waited but there was no answer. There hadn’t been anything during this whole dark period in his life. No sign that God was at work or aware of what he was going through.
John didn’t understand. The people oppressed by Pharaoh had been answered. So had those in Babylon during the exile. So why wasn’t John getting any sign from God or any glimmer of hope during this nightmare?
His mind wandered to the things that he might have done wrong, the reason that God might have abandoned him. He couldn’t think of anything. Not when he had been raised with the belief that nothing could separate him from the love of God. John opened his eyes and looked down at the orange jumpsuit that he wore. He wondered why he was suffering and where God was in all of this.
“Time to go.” The guard came over and unlocked his chains from the bench. “There will be a set of guards in the basement who will take you to the prison.”
“I won’t give any trouble.” John slowly got to his feet. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried.” The guard motioned him down the corridor. “You haven’t given me any cause for concern.”
“I won’t either.”
They got to the elevator and started down. The guard took out a small package of cigarettes.
“Smoke?”
“Never have.” John shook his head. “Thank you though for your kindness. I know I’m your prisoner but you have treated me like a human being rather than a monster.”
The guard put the pack back in his pocket. “I’m not the only one.”
John raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“You may not believe me but there are people who think you were railroaded. There have been protests.”
John’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know anyone believed me anymore. Especially when the governor refused to hear my case.”
“It’s an election year and the governor is trying appear tough on crime for the law and order crowd.” The guard shook his head. “I’ll be honest though even some of them don’t think you got a fair trial.”
“Really?”
The guard nodded. “You’ve not been forgotten.”
John gave him a smile. “Bless you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I think I do friend.” The guard motioned for John to leave the elevator and head toward the waiting truck. “When you think you have been forsaken there is no hope.”
John started to walk and said softly. “But when you know you have not been forgotten there is always hope.”
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 25, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Forsaken but not Forgotten" by Peter Andrew Smith
Forsaken but not Forgotten
by Peter Andrew Smith
Psalm 22
John stretched as far as he could until the chains locking him to the hard metal bench rattled. The guard standing across from him looked up.
“Just getting cramps from sitting for so long,” John said.
The guard nodded and talked softly into his radio for a moment. “It shouldn’t be too long. The truck is a block away. Figure it will be about five minutes before we get underway”
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
John sat by himself on the bench inside a locked room in the justice centre with a guard watching over him. There was little chance that he could escape even if he had somewhere to go. He was mocked and derided by the crowds outside the courthouse which showed him that even if he could get away there was nowhere for him to go. His family had distanced themselves from him and the whole country hated him.
He closed his eyes. He had trusted the court system to sort out what was a mistake, an error. He had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time. When the police arrested him, he protested his innocence and thought that would be the end of it. When he went to trial, he hoped that when he spoke in court that the jury would see it was all a mistake and that he hadn’t done the horrible things he was accused of doing.
He was stunned when the verdict had been guilty and the judge handed down the death penalty. He had trusted in his innocence. He had trusted in the system and when things were at their darkest he had trusted in God to save him from what was happening. Now he sat alone, convicted of something he had not done and terrified of what was happening to him.
How could God forsake him? He understood that the criminal justice system was broken but he had always been a man of faith, who tried to do what was right and who believed that Jesus had come to save the world.
John bowed his head. I need saving, Lord. Help me. Please. He waited but there was no answer. There hadn’t been anything during this whole dark period in his life. No sign that God was at work or aware of what he was going through.
John didn’t understand. The people oppressed by Pharaoh had been answered. So had those in Babylon during the exile. So why wasn’t John getting any sign from God or any glimmer of hope during this nightmare?
His mind wandered to the things that he might have done wrong, the reason that God might have abandoned him. He couldn’t think of anything. Not when he had been raised with the belief that nothing could separate him from the love of God. John opened his eyes and looked down at the orange jumpsuit that he wore. He wondered why he was suffering and where God was in all of this.
“Time to go.” The guard came over and unlocked his chains from the bench. “There will be a set of guards in the basement who will take you to the prison.”
“I won’t give any trouble.” John slowly got to his feet. “You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not worried.” The guard motioned him down the corridor. “You haven’t given me any cause for concern.”
“I won’t either.”
They got to the elevator and started down. The guard took out a small package of cigarettes.
“Smoke?”
“Never have.” John shook his head. “Thank you though for your kindness. I know I’m your prisoner but you have treated me like a human being rather than a monster.”
The guard put the pack back in his pocket. “I’m not the only one.”
John raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“You may not believe me but there are people who think you were railroaded. There have been protests.”
John’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know anyone believed me anymore. Especially when the governor refused to hear my case.”
“It’s an election year and the governor is trying appear tough on crime for the law and order crowd.” The guard shook his head. “I’ll be honest though even some of them don’t think you got a fair trial.”
“Really?”
The guard nodded. “You’ve not been forgotten.”
John gave him a smile. “Bless you. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I think I do friend.” The guard motioned for John to leave the elevator and head toward the waiting truck. “When you think you have been forsaken there is no hope.”
John started to walk and said softly. “But when you know you have not been forgotten there is always hope.”
Peter Andrew Smith is an ordained minister in the United Church of Canada currently serving St. James United Church in Antigonish, Nova Scotia. He is the author of All Things are Ready (CSS) a book of lectionary based communion prayers and a number of stories and articles, which can be found listed at www.peterandrewsmith.com.
*****************************************
StoryShare, March 25, 2016, issue.
Copyright 2016 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
