The most important story you'll ever read!
Imagine this scenario:
You are the top CEO for a Fortune 500 corporation.
You make $499,000 per year, plus bonuses.
You have several vehicles, a ten-room mansion, and three beach houses.
You have the perfect family, including 2 ½ kids.
Then, the unimaginable happens...
It was a hellishly hot, humid, Southwestern evening. It was one of those evenings when the air conditioner can't keep up with the overwhelming temperature, as it snaps, crackles, and pops like a 90-year-old trying to do a set of push-ups. The sweltering summer heat was simply unbearable. You and your family do their best to rest snug in their beds. Visions of the latest ipods® and iphones® dance in your children's heads. When what to your wandering eyes should appear?
Your spouse nudges you out of a soft sleep and swears that someone is breaking in your home downstairs.
You rub your eyes and reach over to the nightstand to grab your loaded..._____(bleep...I can't write out the word!!**GUN**!! because that would be politically incorrect and offensive).
But it's too late. Your worst fears have become reality.
Inside your home, in the middle of the night, six burly, beastly, and sweaty men from the local tri-county S.W.A.T. team have invaded your home. They are brandishing military style, fully automatic, pimped-out weapons. They have you surrounded, and they are pointing the guns directly at your face. The guns are so close that you can smell the scent of fresh gunpowder that was scattered in the barrel from previous missions. Everything is blurry and you are having trouble focusing. You think you are in a dream. Then, one of the out-of-shape men, panting from running up the single flight of stairs to your room, yells out in a redneck overture, "Hey boss, can I shoot em'...huh, huh, can I? Can I?" That's when it hits you. This is for real. If ever there were time for a cuss word and grown-up's messing their pants, it would be now. Something has gone very wrong. You know you're not a criminal; you're a good person. Why are these officers in your home? This has to be a mistake.
After the over-zealous, trigger-happy, donut-dunkers, drag you out of bed in front of your crying spouse and kids, they hand cuff you with zip-ties and throw you in the back of their less-than-impressive, body-odor filled, transport van.
You are well on your way to the downtown jail when you have an epiphany. You will try to reason with your captors. But before you can get a full sentence out of your mouth, one of the S.W.A.T. members hands you a copy of the warrant and irately tells you to save your words for the judge. The warrant is signed by circuit court judge, Largeon Grace.
This is perfect. You know this judge. Well, not really. But you have worked for this judge for years. You have never met the man, but your office is sub-contacted through the court to perform certain tasks at the request of the judge. Surely, he will extend mercy to you and give you a fair shake-especially, for an innocent man. Or, so you say.
After arriving at the jail, they throw you in a dirty, cramped, rat-infested cell. It is beyond deplorable. A mixture of urine, feces, and human sweat permeates the air. If that wasn't putrid enough, there are sounds of people screaming every few moments, and the glaring lights never turn off. You tell yourself that there is no way you could live here, as you frantically try to persuade the guard to give you your phone call. But after a few hour struggle, you finally give up from exhaustion and fall asleep on the hard concrete.
But this sleep will not ease your current dilemma. It might even get a little worse from here.
You are about to enter a place you had only heard about. A place that was seemingly made-up, make believe, or maybe even fairy-tale like. A place you thought was conceived in the minds of some hyper-spiritual clerics in an attempt to proliferate their religious message based on a typical system of rewards and punishments. A place that is a parallel universe to your own.
Sometime during your sleep at the local county Holiday Inn-Jail Express, you have a dream-well, actually, it might be considered more of a nightmare.
Apparently, in your dream you have just had a massive heart attack and died in the middle of the night.
Do you have this picture in your mind? You are in jail; you're getting such good sleep, resting on a raised slab of concrete without a pillow or mattress in hundred degree heat-and now you have entered the dream world only to find out that you have died. I don't know what world I would rather be in... It seems as though whatever luck train you were riding on just ran out of track.
But this is more than a dream. It is so real. You can even smell and touch what is around you. You are watching all this happen in sort of a third person perspective. In your dream you are standing just over your own dead body. It's weird, to say the least. You can see yourself lying on your own bed, cold as stone.
As you are viewing your own dead corpse you realize that there are two large men dressed in all black looking directly over your shoulder. They are talking about you (the dead you) and pointing at your body, but they don't see the you that is very much alive watching from a distance.
These trench-coat-wearing, bounty hunters, or should I say body hunters, are eerily ominous. They are wearing everything a typical grim reaper would have on from your favorite scary movie. Their hoods are canopied over their face so you can't make out what they look like. You begin to wonder if these are some deranged demons poised to drag you into the horde that are in hell. But just as you are about to scream at the top of your lungs in sheer terror, you get a glimmer of hope. You see the white light-that infamous, bright, whiter-than-white, light that protrudes throughout some long tunnel. It's the stuff stories are made of. It's the stuff Charismatic authors write about to get top-dollar book deals. You think all is well.
The two men who were overlooking your dead body have now carried the dead you through the tunnel of light. (The real you is watching all of this from a short distance). After carrying you through the tunnel they take you to a special holding chamber of some sort. There really aren't any words, scents, sounds, or feelings that you can use to describe this chamber. The only thing you can manage to think about this place is that it is neither a good nor a bad place. It's almost as if you are in some type of neutral zone-in limbo, if you will, between two worlds. But just as you are about to examine this strange place the same two men come and escort you through another tunnel. (It would seem as if these tunnels serve as portals to different worlds.) In a matter of seconds you are in a different area. And what you are about to experience next...you will never forget.
After what seems like a blink of time, you are standing in a grand imperial court of some sort. The pillars that line the walls are made of some strange glowing white substance. The floors look like a sea of crystallized glass. There is one massive throne made of gold directly in front of you. To the right side of this throne there are twelve smaller thrones made of a combination of gold and wood. Each throne is equally spaced apart and stretches the length of the court. In your mind, you have concluded that this is where God judges those who have just died. Oh, but then it hits you. You have just died; and now you are standing directly in front of the Throne of God. You are sweating profusely, and then you calm yourself. You encourage yourself in the fact that you have been a Christian nearly all your life. But just before the blissful peace that you are expecting to be saturated in comes to you...
Silence.
Everything is silent. You realize that there are no birds chirping. There is no wind blowing. No voices can be heard. No motors or engines are humming. Everything is silent, almost as if nothing is in the room. But it is more than just silence. Every moment that you spend in the court takes something away from you. Now you can't even think. Even your mind has gone silent.
The two men who have been transporting you through the portals have brought you to within just a few feet of God's throne. A royal, majestic, presence makes you feel as though you must kneel. When you do, the men in black disappear just as quickly as they first appeared. The twelve empty thrones are now full with whom you determine to be the twelve elders.
The silence is now more evident. Although there are people in the room, all is quiet. No one is speaking or moving. It's almost as if this is only a life-size model. You now have a deep desire to leave-that you really shouldn't be here. As you are thinking to yourself what will come next, two angelic-like creatures appear to the right of God's throne. They are dressed in the most awe-inspiring royal robes. These are robes that people on earth would kill for. They were decked out with precious jewels lining the hems, and pure gold lacing made up the threadwork. These creatures were absolutely huge, much taller than the men who had abducted you in the night shortly after you died. If I had to guess, these servants of God, if it is right to call them this, were probably fourteen feet tall. And something was very unusual about their eyes-for one, they had eyes encircling their heads. There would be no place you could hide from these creatures. The only object in their hands was a gold horn, polished to a mirrored reflection. And then...
The silence is broken! Finally, something is about to happen.
As soon as the angelic creatures pressed their horn to their lips everyone in the court bowed their faces to the ground and began to chant a phrase I could not understand. It was in some foreign language. But each person said whatever it was they were saying in a harmonic unison. The creatures simultaneously blew into their horns a most magnificent sound. It was a sound that you have never even heard on earth. It was splendidly unmatched to anything you had ever heard before. You determined that it had to be an announcement of royalty. As they played, the room filled with a soft, hazy, mist.
Then something you didn't quite expect. You were awaiting the culmination of all that is royal and righteous, God Himself, to walk through the entry to the court. But before you could see His imminent approach, the two royal angelic creatures stand in front of you and spread out the massive wings on their body. You can't see anything but feathers.
God is on His throne.
It is so blindingly white behind the creature's wings that it seems to be bleeding through their massively thick feathers. You can't even look at the wings because it is so bright. You fall to the ground and cover your face in a trembling fear.
Then you hear God speak. It must be Him because it is so...indescribably breathtaking.
You hear His voice-but it seems so very distant.
He is not speaking to you, but to His royal emissaries, seeking the charges against you and the evidentiary findings of your alleged guilt. There can be no denying it-you are on trial and God is the judge. Nothing but an erratic heart and ever widening sweat glands seem to be working on your body.
It would appear as though this trial is to determine how you have lived your life on earth.
Then, like some strange magic, etched wording appears in the crystal floor in common English. For the first time since you have been in this court there is something that you can identify with. But you don't like what you see. The words bear forth charges against you, and they are severe. Indisputable evidence confirms that you have broken every single one of God's laws. Furthermore, God, in His abundant royal mercy decided to pardon your crimes against Him and His laws. He sent His very Son to pay the penalty for your transgression against Him. Etched in the crystal floor are words that describe your insurrection to the throne. It is written that you actually had the audacity to commit treason against God by disrespectfully rejecting His Son when he tried to serve you with the signet signed, royal pardon, from God Himself.
The evidence is stacked against you. You have been weighed, measured, and been found wanting.
God declares your guilt.
One of the elders addresses you, speaking boldly in English.
"Do you desire to speak before sentencing?"
You dare not be so bold as to speak out against God. But just as you think that thought the elder speaks again.
"Let the witnesses behold a righteous judgment: Your guilt shall rise up into the nostrils of God for all eternity from the place of the damned. You are sentenced to that place of torment prepared for those who willfully and maliciously rebel against His Majesty. Mercy has been exhausted."
The two men who came into your bedroom to steal you off into the night to this not-so-elegant world have now come back into the majestic court. They grab you, but you resist. You know you should not speak out, but you muster up the courage. You address God in one final plea:
"God! God! Why have you done this? Why are you sending me to hell? I did so many things for you. I worked long hours in ministry. I helped set up large crusades where people were saved. I even healed several people. God...why?"
And then it happens. Jesus appears. He steps into the court from seemingly out of nowhere.
He is more magnificent than anyone has ever painted. He is more brilliant than anyone has ever imagined in their mind.
He turns to address you:
"Let if be recorded in the annals of the perpetual generations that this man has done what he said he did. Let it be known that for his entire temporal earthly existence I presented him with the decree of pardon from My Father, the King. Let it be known that this man has rejected My offer of mercy. This Son of the World is a worker of the most grievous sin. This man never sought Me. I do not know who he is. As set forth, he must be removed from Our holy presence for endless ages."
Just before the two demonic-looking men reach out to grab you and drag you into an eternity in torturous flames, you wake up; water is profusely dripping off every inch of your body. You take a moment to compose yourself and thank all that is good that it was only a dream. But it still doesn't lessen the reality that you are still in jail.
A few moments later, two jailors come to escort you to the circuit court of Judge Largeon Grace.
You are seated on the bench awaiting your hearing and contemplating what you will say in your defense of innocence. You are representing yourself in this arraignment hearing. All you can think about is that even though you are in this earthly court, it is a much better alternative to where you were in your dream.
The judge calls you forward and asks the prosecutor for the evidence of your guilt. He reads off the manifold charges. You cannot believe your ears. The judge turns to you and asks what you have to say in your defense.
You cannot get the words out correctly. You can only belt out a few unconvincing words in a disrespectful tone.
You tell the judge that you have worked for him for several years and that you have always been a law abiding citizen.
Judge Grace turns to address you and he has a harsh look on his face.
"Sir, if you are good, you shouldn't be in my court. In all my years as judge I have never met anyone who shouldn't be standing in front of me for judgment."
The judge proceeds to question you.
"Have you ever committed one moral failure?"
"If you are good then you have never told a lie...never stolen anything...never thought a bad thought."
You see an opportunity to reason with the judge.
‘Judge, I may have told one lie in the past but that does not make me a bad person. I have made up for all that wrong by working a solid job, for you even, for almost three decades."
The judge sits somberly at his bench trying to examine your words, and then finally speaks to you:
"Sir, you are a murderer. If you were perfect and blemish free all your life, and you only broke one law-let's assume it was a little white lie-you would the most heinous of criminals. Do you not understand? You would have murdered perfection. It would not matter what you did after that. You could never again gain perfection. Once you have murdered something you cannot get it back. The only way for you to be made in right standing before the court, is if the court, prefect in its standing with the law, would extend a pardon your crimes."
Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. And you have never seen this glaring sign until just now. Hanging all around the prosecutor's table is a sign that reads:
"To all who willingly accept: a pardon for their crimes."
You leap out across the court and grab one of the rolled up pardons sitting on the table. The prosecutor looks at you, smiles, and then sheds a tear.
Then the judge does something unfathomable. He orders the jailors to arrest the prosecutor and pronounces a sentence of death over him. You can't believe your ears. The prison guards beat him and drag him off to prison where he will await his execution.
You blurt out in anger at the judge.
"Why are you doing this?"
The judge hesitates, trying to hold back the obvious tears.
"Oh, dear sir, I am not doing this. You did it the moment you accepted his offer of pardon. He must take the penalty of your sins upon himself. Justice must be served. Make sure that you do not take this pardon lightly. This prosecutor is My only Son. He is heir to the bench. He gave up his position in this court to suffer for your crimes. I gave Him up and He willingly went because We love you and want you to live with Us forever. You could not live in perfection if you are imperfect, because just one flaw would destroy perfection. Because My Son has taken your sin upon Himself, it is as if you have never sinned. You are prefect because He is perfect and has never sinned. He gave up His life in exchange for yours. Will you lay down your life and live for Him?"
Just when the judge says his final words, you wake up. You were having a double dream after all.
Wow, what a night. Then the dream really starts to sink in. You roll over and turn on the TV and a televangelist is speaking:
"Sir or madam, if you are listening to this it is not too late. But one day you will die-that much is certain. Where will you go after you die? Jesus Christ died on the cross so you could pass from this life to the next. He became the pardon for your sins..."
You kneel on the floor and give you r life to Jesus that very moment.
What will you do with your pardon from Judge Grace?
For it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith...Eph. 2:8 NKJV
Many will say to Me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?' And then I will declare to them, 'I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.' Matt. 7:22-23 NASB