Crazy-Grateful

A story is told about Fiorello LaGuardia, who, when he was mayor of New York City during the worst days of the Great Depression and all of WWII, was called by adoring New Yorkers 'the Little Flower' because he was only five foot four and always wore a carnation in his lapel. He was a colorful character who used to ride the New York City fire trucks, raid speakeasies with the police department, take entire orphanages to baseball games, and whenever the New York newspapers were on strike, he would go on the radio and read the Sunday funnies to the kids. One bitterly cold night in January of 1935, the mayor turned up at a night court that served the poorest ward of the city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge for the evening and took over the bench himself.
Within a few minutes, a tattered old woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She told LaGuardia that her daughter's husband had deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her two grandchildren were starving. But the shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused to drop the charges. "It's a real bad neighborhood, your Honor." the man told the mayor. "She's got to be punished to teach other people around here a lesson." LaGuardia sighed. He turned to the woman and said "I've got to punish you. The law makes no exceptions--ten dollars or ten days in jail." But even as he pronounced sentence, the mayor was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a bill and tossed it into his famous sombrero saying: "Here is the ten dollar fine which I now remit; and furthermore I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a town where a person has to steal bread so that her grandchildren can eat. Mr. Baliff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant." So the following day the New York City newspapers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered old lady who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren, fifty cents of that amount being contributed by the red-faced grocery store owner, while some seventy petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each of whom had just paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.
Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel, Multnomah, 1990, pp 91-2.


What if you were sentenced to pay a fine that you had absolutely no way of paying? Millions of dollars, perhaps? What if the judge who sentenced you --as he read your sentence -- wrote a check covering the fine? Just handed the check over to the bailiff and said -- Sir, she is free to go. Wouldn't you feel crazy-grateful? What if the sentence handed down were death? And what if the judge still was willing to pay the fine... with the life of his very own son?

Would you still be crazy-grateful?

Well, friends, that has been done for you. A "get out of jail free" card has been presented to the Judge with your name on it. All you have to do is say, "Yes, I agree, Judge, I am imperfect. But, I am willing to accept Your Son's perfection in place of my own." That's it. Just believe that Jesus died FOR YOU and the condemnation that you deserve is written off scot-free. We all fall short of the glory of God and we all deserve death. However, in God's unfathomable mercy, He accepts Jesus' sacrifice in lieu of our own. Jesus did it once and for all. It is finished.

Are you crazy-grateful?