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The Long Silence

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  • The Long Silence

    At the end of time, billions of people were scattered on a great plain before God's throne. Most shrank back from the brilliant light before them. But some groups near the front talked heatedly - not with cringing shame, but with belligerence.

    "Can God judge us? How can he know about suffering?" Snapped a pert young brunette. He ripped open a sleeve to reveal a tattooed number from a Nazi Concentration Camp. "We endured terror ... beatings ... torture ... death!"

    In another group a Negro boy lowered his collar. "What about this?" he demanded, showing an ugly rope burn. "Lynched for no crime but being black!"

    In another crowd, a pregnant schoolgirl with sullen eyes. "Why should I suffer?" She murmured. "It wasn't my fault."

    Far out across the plain were hundreds of such groups. Each had a complaint against God for the evil and suffering he had permitted in the world. How lucky God was to live in heaven where all was sweetness and light, where there was no weeping or fear, no hunger or hatred. What did God know of all that men had been forced to endure in this world? For God leads a pretty sheltered life, they said.

    So each of these groups sent forth their leader, chosen because they had suffered the most. A Jew, a person from Hiroshima, a horribly deformed arthritic, and a thalidomide child.

    In the centre of the plain they consulted with each other. At last they were ready to present their case. It was rather clever. Before God could be qualified to be their judge, he must endure what they had endured. Their decision was that God should be sentenced to live on earth - as a man!

    Let him be born a Jew. Let the legitimacy of the birth be doubted.
    Give him a work so difficult that even his family will think him out of his mind when he tries to do it.
    Let him be betrayed by his closest friends.
    Let him face false charges, be tried by a prejudiced jury and convicted by a cowardly judge.
    Let him be tortured.
    At the last, let him see what it means to be terribly alone.
    Then let him die, and so that there can be no doubt that he died, let there be a great host of witnesses to verify it.

    As each leader announced his portion of the sentence, loud murmurs of approval went up from the throng of people assembled. When the last had finished pronouncing sentence, there was a long silence. Nobody uttered another word. No one moved.

    For suddenly all knew that God had already served his sentence.

  • #2
    I do not know how I allowed your piece to slip by me William, except that I rarely step into this particular room, which is still no excuse.
    Oft times we are indeed confronted with the "why did God allow" or "God doesn't know how I feel" type of scenario and we both know that "just because" or a direct quote of Romans 8:28 will not help in any way.

    If you do not mind, I would like to place The Long Silence in my log under the "piggybank-able" section. Most of the stories and analytics I give are written by me but with inspiration while others, like your story, I place in a most valuable section called piggybank-ables for in it are my most cherished and often shared pieces of wisdom and wit.

    God Bless..........Bobby
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    • #3
      Glad you enjoyed that story Bobby, it was told in my old church to the congregation one day.

      I just wrote out another one from memory some decade and half ago. Can't believe how much I retain: The king's cross -Christforums

      I think the second one will be harder to accept. Because terrorism strikes at our hearts and soul. I added my own flavor to the story, but I'll see whether you have any thoughts on it in that thread if you will.

      God bless,
      William
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