The other day, I had to go traffic court. Someone else had driven my car, gotten a
parking ticket and didn’t tell me. I was
tempted to be mad, but a trip down to the courthouse is always an adventure, so
I looked forward to pleading my case before the judge.
When I walked into the courtroom, the judge was already
taking care of a contester. I was so
surprised. He was talking about the case
and laughing with his bailiff—a merry, twinkling-eyed, jolly-bellied, Santa-type
black man. In general, the judge was putting contesters at ease with his laidback
manner.
This was going to be interesting. First there was a blond, middle-aged woman
whose husband kept borrowing her car, but getting speeding tickets under her
name. She admitted he loved to put that ‘pedal
to the medal’ especially when coming into a yellow light. The judge wanted to watch the footage. Yup, there he was hunching forward in the car
trying to make it through before it turned red. The judge and the bailiff laughed watching
her husband go through light after light right after it turned red.
After letting her know that her husband would have to drive
more carefully for safety reasons, the judge reduced her fines on all the
tickets.
Second up, stood a fashionable Russian lady whose friends had
gotten her something like 17 parking tickets when a grumpy neighbor called the
cops . (Her friends had parked around his house for her birthday party.) When she stated her case, she even showed the
judge on a hand-drawn map where the cars were parked and how they were in no
way blocking the neighbor’s driveway.
She said her friends were even sending her flowers because they felt so
bad for what had happened to her. Thankfully,
the judge dismissed most of the tickets and she left vindicated, even though it
was just her word against her neighbor’s at this point.
Now came a slightly heated Hispanic professional contesting
a registration tag failure. She had just gotten her tags but had them STOLEN
off her car the same week at her sketchy apartment complex.
There was leniency and understanding even for that contester as he
decided to take her word for it.
Next came a quiet, Cabela-jacket wearing young man. He got a
ticket from having expired tags on his trailer. Some late fees were also added to this for a
failure to appear in court. He (like me)
had tried to call the office to change the court date, but could never get
through in time. We, the audience, all
nodded in agreement as many of us had experienced the same thing.
He pleaded his case with the judge and
off-handedly mentioned the trailer with the expired tags had recently been
stolen so it being untagged wouldn’t be a problem anymore.” We in the audience chuckled and winced a
little at irony of his situation. Again,
the judge showed empathy and mercy when considering the man’s trouble.
You started to get the idea that everyone here was just ‘good
people’ trying to do their best when unusual circumstances, and many times
life’s injustices, came upon them—or kicked them in the hindquarters. All you needed was to be able to plead your
case to someone that had some authority to release you out of your sticky dilemma. That individual had to care though, or else
it was just you against the system.
Some more equally, semi-odd cases put themselves before the
judge and soon I was rocking in my seat trying not to laugh as each real-life
scenario became funnier than the next.
The judge treated each petitioner with respect and
care. There he was showing understanding
in the midst of with these people’s real-life trials, laughing with them at the
bazaar circumstances that had brought them to his courtroom and sympathizing
with inequalities they faced or a breakdown of government bureaucracy that they
were now immersed in. In general, he
restored humanity and dignity to each person that crossed his stand that day. He benefitted each person that sought his
help or justice.
The only time the judge remotely sounded upset at someone
was when the woman whose husband got all the speeding tickets, didn’t seem to
take it seriously. Her husband had to slow down at these yellow lights. He could hit an elderly pedestrian who couldn’t
cross the intersection fast enough. That
would be tragic.
We were all having a great time in the courtroom when this
little slip of a girl waltzed up to the stand.
She had short dark hair with an unnaturally yellow streak on one side. When the judge read out the details of her
case, we found out she had about 5 (moving violation) traffic tickets and would
have to pay an extraordinary amount of money (somewhere in the thousands?).
She was 17. A foster
child who ran away from home and quit school to work full-time while putting
herself through community college. That
quieted the room. She ran away from home
but was WORKING FULL-TIME while going to COLLEGE??? After the judge read the details, she
remained quiet. He asked if she would
like to explain what happened? She
hesitated. It finally came out that her boyfriend
had stolen her car and gotten all those tickets under her name.
What was truly beautiful, was this girl who was a foster
kid, working full-time and going to college, was prepared to have paid all of
her boyfriend’s tickets without saying a word in her defense. I looked around to see if anyone else was
impressed.
He asked her if she still was with that boy. She shook her head, “No.” He counseled her to stay away from people
like that and commended her for her other, good, life choices. He asked her if she had told the whole truth
and she affirmed. He had her raise her
right hand, repeat after him and soon you heard the pound of the gavel and, “Case
Dismissed!” Her fines were wiped
out. The tickets were taken off her
record. Her problems were solved!
I was so blown away by the total and complete justice of
this case that I could barely see through the haze of tears starting to fill my
eyes. It was suddenly my turn to stand
before the judge. He must have thought I
was crazy, first seeing me trying not to laugh in the back of the courtroom,
now, pretty much crying in front of it… “But that girl…,”I tried to say with
my eyes. Not being able to read my mind,
he crisply asked me why I was there. I
managed, “a parking ticket.”
I couldn’t even get the story out of how someone had parked
in a loading zone with my car because they had borrowed it when theirs broke down
and didn’t have the usual business signs on the doors like their usual work vehicle,
blah, blah, blah. That girl. I couldn’t compose myself to explain the
unfairness of my case, so he just looked at me confusedly and asked me what I
wanted? All I wanted was the ticket
reduced. Fine. Done.
“Next?”
I managed to get out of the courtroom seeing through the
glassy windows of my eyes. It was an
anti-climactic end to my case. However, the
circumstances of the girl’s case had brought up issues of judgement and mercy
long-buried in my heart. I had to run to
a restroom—anywhere quiet-- to catch the sobs before they escaped my mouth. Wailing, lip-biting sobs. The judge!
He forgave her everything!
He
didn’t have to be so kind, so understanding, so just. But he was.
If this good, earthly judge wanted to forgive her maybe our Heavenly Father,
the Judge of all the Earth, He who knows us best, would sympathize and want to forgive
us even more?
(I have a Scandinavian heritage. When you do wrong, especially to a fellowman or a friend, you do not get off until you have ‘paid the last penny,’ and made up for what you have done. The concept of free mercy—mercy, just because you asked for it--is lavish and unbelievable, subconsciously.)
Maybe He is waiting to clear us of all our debt and all we
have to do is ask? Maybe it’s just to come
before Him with our complaint or mistake and ask for his help
and He would forgive us.
In that quiet place, between two walls and cold, damp marble,
I poured out my soul to God. Knowing the
unworthiness I had been living with and the heavy debt I was carrying, I didn’t
know the need to feel forgiven was so great in me….and the answer to so many of
my problems. Guilt.
Even though I was a Christian, I wasn’t asking for the clemency
that was readily available to me. Because
Jesus died for my sins, I could go straight to the Heavenly Judge, ask for his exoneration
and all my offenses could be wiped out. Every
time I messed up, I could quickly come back and ask for forgiveness and receive
it.
There was no end to the mercy. It wouldn’t run out in a single day if I asked
for too much forgiveness. I wouldn’t
lose face with the judge either. He knew
my situation. He knew what I was up against. He knew I would need more than one—or fifty--
verdicts of ‘forgiven’ in a single day.
This day, through this undeserved ticket and a 17 year-old
foster child, I saw in real life the love and willing mercy of God, the Great
Judge in Heaven through the compassion and justice of a downtown Portland judge.
