A Christmas Reflection on Divine Justice and Mercy
Silence fills the courtroom. Every seat is occupied. The Judge has taken His seat. Righteous, Holy, and Eternal. The books are already opened. The air is heavy with righteousness, steady and unyielding.
In the dock of this cosmic courtroom stands the man on trial. Not a single man, but man. Humanity gathered into one trembling figure. The charge is clear: wilful disobedience. The prosecutor, that ancient serpent, the accuser of the brethren, has presented his case with devastating effectiveness. The evidence is overwhelming. Every sin, every rebellion, every moment of pride and selfishness has been documented. The law has been broken and justice demands payment.
The verdict is not in doubt. Guilty.
The man does not argue. He cannot. He awaits sentencing. Justice is about to speak.
Suddenly a voice rises. Not from the dock. Not from the prosecution. But from elsewhere in the court. “May it please the Court…”
All movement stills. The speaker is not listed among the parties. Yet he speaks with authority. He does not challenge the law. He does not deny the guilt. Instead, he declares his interest. “I rise as amicus curiae.” A friend of the court. A friend of justice.
He asks permission to be heard, not because the law is wrong, but because he has a keen interest in the case. He speaks as one who possesses perfect knowledge of the law and who participated in the creation of man. He understands the Judge’s nature completely, for he shares that nature. Yet he also understands the defendants intimately, for he has taken on their nature, been born as one of them, and entered into their condition. The prosecution has never seen an advocate like this.
He identifies himself as Jesus, the Son of David.
In the spring of 2013, Ghana witnessed something extraordinary. An election was contested. The nation waited. For five months, the nation’s Supreme Court heard an unprecedented challenge to a presidential election result. The proceedings were broadcast live across radio and television, captivating millions and transforming the courtroom into the country’s most watched drama. Legal jargons, once to the preserve of lawyers and judges became part of the lingua of lay men. Passengers on public buses debated the submissions and testimonies of the parties, the evidence adduced and rendered their judgment as they deemed fit. Market vendors also followed the case closely, whilst Children mimicked the phrase, ‘I put it to you’ in their playground games.
Then, an interesting event occurred. A senior lawyer, Benoni Tony Amekudzi, who was not a party to the case rose to speak. He was not the plaintiff. He was not the defendant. He announced himself as an amicus curiae. A friend of the court whose sole purpose was to provide insight to assist the court in deciding the matter. He rose, not to challenge the court, but to serve truth. His role was simple yet profound. He sought to draw the court’s attention to relevant legal provisions he believed were being overlooked. His was to protect the integrity of the judgment and to ensure that justice, when rendered, would be sound and well founded in law. Overnight, the word ‘amicus curiae’ had gained its place in the local parlance of Ghanaians.
Lawyer Amekudzi had plucked a leaf from the pages of history. Long before it was practiced in modern courts, Jesus the Son of David had become amicus curiae in the greatest trial ever conducted in the cosmic courts.
He Pleads His Case
In his submission to the court, Jesus speaks of a time before the charges were ever possible. A time before time. Before the foundation of the world. He boldly approaches the bench, addressing the One True God who sat as Judge, Lawgiver, and King. The Eternal, Holy, and Just One.
With gracious humility he makes his case.
“Your Majesty, I AM. Your intention for man was clear. This condemned man was formed in Your image, crowned with glory, placed in dominion, made for fellowship. The law was simple, the boundaries clear, the consequences explained. But man, exercising his freedom, chose to step outside the law. Then he fell and he does not look like you anymore.
The relationship is broken and you miss him dearly.
The ground was cursed. The ground that was meant to yield abundance now produces thorns and thistles. Pain entered the womb. Sweat soaked the brow. Violence filled the earth. Brother killed brother. Nations warred against nations. Disease ravaged bodies. Death became a constant witness. Generations have lived and died under a sentence they did not fully choose, yet cannot escape. Man is already suffering the devastating effects of his condemnation.
The degeneration of man makes your heart bleed. You cannot bear to see the man you are so mindful of, the man you care so deeply about, condemned to obscurity. Where is his crown of glory? What will become of your kingdom of heaven on earth?
I recall, Your Majesty, on that fateful day in Eden when you visited man and saw that he had fled from your presence. Your heart broke. Yet even in your heartache, you gave man a promise: ‘Your seed shall strike the head of his enemy.’
In man’s condemnation he has clung to this promise. The hope planted deep within his heart. Your promise to Abraham. The sceptre of Judah. The prophecies of the suffering servant. The child to be born. The son to be given. Century after century, man has waited. And now, the wait is over.”
The court is silent with bated breath. Every eye is firmly fixed on this amicus curiae. Even the man on trial in the dock wonders what is unfolding. The only two people who seem to understand what is unravelling are the Judge and this son of David. The prosecution is stunned. Speechless. This was not scripted.
Christmas Enters the Court
Then the announcement breaks forth like a thunderclap.
“I am the Promise. The seed of the woman. The offspring of Abraham. The Son of David. Emmanuel. I have been born. I stand before you not as God but as Your begotten in skin and with blood in my veins. As a brother among many brethren. I take man’s place in the dock.”
Gasps ripple through the courtroom.
He ascends the dock. Man descends the dock. An exchange has taken place. Stunned, every eye swings back and forth between the old man and the new man.
Then he spoke again, this time from the dock, condemned.
“I request time. Time to walk among my brethren. Time to gather my evidence. Time to experience their grief. Their hunger. Their pain. Their tears. Their obedience where they have none. I will live their life. I will bear their weaknesses. I will keep the law they could not keep. For thirty-three years, grant me time. Then let the court sit again. Put me in the dock and I will present my defence.”
The request is extraordinary. Who takes the place of a condemned man?
The Adjournment
The Judge considers. The court understands what is being asked. The cost is not hidden. The implications are eternal.
Then the gavel falls mercifully. The case is adjourned. Not dismissed. Not forgotten. Adjourned. Until the appointed time.
Outside the court, in the outskirts of Bethlehem in Judea, history records it dramatically. Shepherds hear angelic songs instead of the sound of the gavel. Wise men follow a star to bring gifts to a child born to a teenage mother and a bewildered carpenter, unaware they are attending the opening statement of the greatest case ever argued. For in the lowliest of places in Bethlehem, the greatest Amicus Curiae in history entered the cosmic courtroom, not merely to observe or advise, but to unusually take the place of the condemned man.
This is Christmas, the moment our friend arrived. The entrance of an Amicus Curiae who chooses not merely to help the court, but to exchange his dignity for the certain fate of a condemned man.
In Ghana’s 2012 election petition, Lawyer Benoni Tony Amekudzi’s application to serve as amicus curiae was rejected. The court decided it did not need his assistance.
But when Jesus declared his interest in humanity’s case, to ensure that the full depth of God’s love, the true nature of divine justice, and the richness of God’s mercy should not be overlooked, the Judge welcomed his intervention. Indeed, the Judge had planned for it from eternity past. This was not an unexpected disruption of the proceedings but the fulfilment of a predetermined plan.
As we gather around Christmas trees and exchange gifts, as we sing carols and light candles, we are celebrating the beginning of the greatest legal defence in history. We are marking the moment when hope entered a courtroom that had known only despair.
You are that condemned man. He is Jesus. He took your place. He exchanged His abundant life for your shame, your pain, your evil inheritances, your sicknesses, your death. This is why He was born a man. This is Christmas.
The Court waits. Easter is coming.
The End, until Part 2. Keep watch
