Cheap Grace

I entered the ward in clerical attire, my presence setting a young patient on fire with fury. “You preachers who teach us about forgiveness from God,” as she started to shout. “My step-dad tells me he's been born again, freed through the mercy of Jesus. That was when he'd confessed at his church just what he had done to me. The pastor told him that he had won forgiveness from Jesus and now he was free. Well just how do you think that feels like for me? I've not forgiven him, so bugger your God. No freedom for me from that dirty old sod.” She collapsed in sobs. Could medication save her, having been sectioned here for her behaviour. Others looked at me as she continued to weep. How would I respond when mercy seemed cheap? He might have felt ashamed at being caught out but the freedom he had found was worthless without forgiveness from her. I could only listen in sorrow and absorb without condition the hurt. On God's behalf I said, “I'm sorry.” The pain, the hurt continues in Christ's body.