After we've blown it

In a Pennsylvania prison a young man I was visiting with his 9-year-old daughter N. spent a good amount of time hatching a surprise birthday with her for her mother. (This mother has since moved on in life with another man.) The two were thick as thieves as they excitedly brainstormed possibilities. He had a friend on the outside who would do the leg work; money was no object; she should have fun with it.

On the day of the party, the balloons were delivered, the cake was bought, the presents were displayed—and the mom rejected the whole shebang, calling it manipulative and disrespectful of her current mate.

She was in error. I was there. I had been a witness to the plotters’ childlike glee and can attest it was no power play. This was a father bonding with his little girl, for her own delight as much as for Mom’s. No dark interpretation had occurred to him.

There is doing things right the first time. And then there is doing things right after you have done things wrong, which is still pretty good.

When news came to the inmate’s ears that plans had blown up in his face like an exploding birthday party horn in a Popeye cartoon, he was taken aback and felt the sting of the charge of “manipulation,” but he did not react out of his feelings. He decided he had no need to defend himself because he knew the truth (1 Corinthians 4:3). Though not a catechized man, he sensed that there is nothing hidden that will not be revealed (Luke 8:17). Though not a churchman, he intuited that “we can do nothing against the truth” (2 Corinthians 13:8).

Amazingly to me, he understood the wisdom of not pressing his innocence overmuch, reckoning that a person sitting in jail has a well-deserved image problem to overcome and cannot expect people to assume the best of motives. Without realizing it, he paraphrased a verse of Paul’s: “… though if I should wish to boast I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth; but I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than he sees in me or hears from me” (2 Corinthians 12:6).

He chose to view the fiasco as a learning experience. He put himself in the other man’s shoes and saw the view from there. He realized, too, that this man was now a permanent factor in the situation, which called for wisdom. He explained to N.’s mom that he had acted in good faith, but that he was sorry nonetheless. He even wrote a letter to her man, understanding somehow that a soft answer turns away wrath (Proverbs 15:1).

There are two kinds of innocent actions in life, according to the Bible—primary and secondary. That is, there is doing things right the first time. And then there is doing things right after you have done things wrong, which is still pretty good (and which some people never do). In other words, there is not sinning to begin with, which is better (1 John 2:1), and then there is repentance if you do sin (1 John 1:9). It is the response to rebuke after blowing it that is all-important.

In Corinth, the church had done something wrong and Paul had sternly rebuked them. At this point it could have gone either way. They could have been defensive and stiff-necked, or repented and made things right to the best of their ability. They chose the latter, and took steps to extricate themselves from their self-made mess in a thoughtful and godly way. The apostle commends them: “At every point you have proved yourself innocent in the matter” (2 Corinthians 7:11).

One thinks of the offender in Luke 16, who soberly grasps the seriousness of his guilty situation and shrewdly digs out of the hole he has dug, managing to impress even the Lord, who exclaims: “For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light” (Luke 16:8).

Surely Wisdom cries aloud, “on the heights beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town”—and in the prison too. “To you, O men, I call, and my cry is to the children of man” (Proverbs 8:1-4).

She speaks of grace for sinners, and of innocence before the Lord. And who does not need that?

Email aseupeterson@wng.org