George

We threw George a birthday party this weekend. He has just turned 19 years old. And when I think back over the last year of his life, and think forward to the one ahead, I am woefully reminded of the numerous trips to court, of running down the street to find him being handcuffed and hauled off, of the impending months or years he will most likely have to serve in prison. And he has warned us that any time will inevitably lead to more time to lifetime.

And in our practical, earthly, reasonable system of justice, this all makes perfect sense. But in the broader, global, irrational systems of injustice, it makes no sense at all. Honestly, I cannot see in this tall, skinny man-child, face smeared with ice cream cake, legs and arms contorted in an intense game of Twister, any solution to the brokenness and evil of our world, either dead or alive. I cannot imagine that Patrick will offer a much better answer early Friday morning.

But I know that God Almighty become Emmanuel—tall, skinny man-child, legs and arms contorted in the ultimate sacrifice, the final execution—to secure the perfect solution, alive and dead…and alive again. And Jesus’ blood is my only hope for George’s 19^th year, and my only hope for myself and for the world—for justice…and for mercy.

-Jesse