Face of Justice
Buenas Tardes my friends! I am currently in Granada, Nicaragua debriefing after my first month of ministry and preparing for month two. For November I will get to live and work with my whole squad (43 people), yay! I can’t wait to get to our ministry site this Wednesday.
During our last week in Costa Rica my team and I had the opportunity to experience a couple different ministries, one of which was called Face of Justice. This group does ministry on the streets of San Jose serving coffee and cookies to prostitutes. They simply act as a bridge between Christ and hurting people. They don’t come in with any ulterior motives; they have conversations with the prostitutes and then ask what they need prayer for. This experience is completely new for most of the people. They are used to being objectified, to being asked for something in return.
We showed up at the Justice house around 6:30 p.m. for a time of worship and prayer. Then we all piled into a 15 passenger van with two large coolers. For the next four hours we drove around the city having casual conversations and offering coffee. We chose to see these shunned people as more than the sum of their actions. It was surprisingly easy to just talk to them like normal, however I was definitely challenged. One of our last stops was a small dingy bar where some women wait for clients to find them. We walked in and began going around with the coffee and cookies like usual. In the back corner of the bar a disturbing scene caught my eye. There was a young girl, no more than 25, sensually touching a man on the leg, a man who happened to be about 65 years old. He was obviously American and would not make eye contact with any one of my team members. The only thing that kept me from walking out of that bar was the fact that we were there to love the women. I was filled with anger against all the men using these vulnerable women. As we walked out God said to me
I love that man.
God, I responded. Look at what he is doing!
Look what I have done. He said, pointing me back to the Cross.
I was forced to look at what I believed about grace and love. If grace is an ocean then surely there is enough grace to cover the sins of the men in those bars and waiting in lines outside the brothels. I realized that I was bringing my small “righteous” works to the Lord believing that I was earning favor, believing that my sins were less than those around me. But the Cross offers grace to everyone, to every single person and every single sin. I have no righteousness of my own to bring, it was all given to me through the sacrifice of Jesus, just as He offers righteousness to the men who travel to Costa Rica to buy sex. We simply have to choose in, we have to accept it, receive it with open arms. We have to look upon our Savior clothed in our filthy rags and recognize our complete lack. When we recognize our complete lack, He fills us to the brim. He clothes us in His righteousness. He clothes me, the men seeking love in all the wrong places, and anyone else who looks upon Him with awe. Friends, fall at the feet of the Cross, see your Savior there in your rags, and walk forward into the righteousness that is freely offered to YOU.
