Orphans, Assurance, and the doorstep of the Father's house

Sometimes saints cant shake their Orphaned heart. Little lies telling us we are not really safe and found. Such weighted hearts need to meet two friends that always usher us back into God goodness. These friends are grace and mercy.

When orphans enter a house they often enter with deep suspicions. I have seen many enter the father’s house leery of their adoption. They worry that at any moment the father will tell them to leave. But this is not true of our father. His kindness and compassion have his doors open for all to come in and at the doorstep there are mercy and grace. An unlikely pair, one always given stuff away one always keeping the way clean for all to come. Mercy and grace, they stand vigilant to adopt any that come to the father and remind all as they go that home awaits them when they come back. It is at the father’s doorstep that we find the mercy and grace waiting to welcome us home. Grace and mercy are at the doorstep, looking, waiting, always ready.

Let me take a moment and tell you about these two. Mercy is strong. He holds back the father wrath so you do not get what you deserve. Grace is so Good. He gives what he knows you don't deserve.

In the book, Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, which was also made into a great movie, we find an illustration of this. The grace and mercy of entering the father’s house is displayed in an experience of Jean Valjean. Jean Valjean is the main character in Hugo’s book. He is a man that stole some bread and found himself 19 years in prison. The book begins at the point of his release. He has been hardened by fear and made bitter by hate. He has an orphaned heart, orphaned for 19 years. Nineteen years left him to stew in a pot of bitter resentment and deep hate, a private prison of his own making. No inn would allow a convict to spend the night. No family would open their doors to a galley convict. Poor and homeless, he finds help in the house of a kind bishop who gives him a hot meal and rest for the night.

At the dinner table, the bishop said, “You have left a place of suffering. But listen; there will be more joy in heaven over the tears of a repentant sinner than over the white robes of a hundred good men. If you are leaving that sorrowful place with hate and anger against men, you are worthy of compassion; if you leave it with goodwill, gentleness, and peace, you are better than any of us.”

In the movie Jean Valjean states, “Thank you, a meal and a bed to sleep in, and in the morning I will be a new man.” In the night, Jean Valjean creeps from his bed and steals the bishop’s silver forks and spoons making a dash for the countryside. By morning he finds himself in the custody of the police, standing at the door of the bishop’s house. As they enter, the bishop welcomes them. I will let Hugo tell it from here.

"Ah! Here you are!" he exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. "I am glad to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too, which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and spoons?"

Jean Valjean opened his eyes wide, and stared at the venerable Bishop with an expression which no human tongue can render any account of.

"Monsignor," said the brigadier of gendarmes, "so what this man said is true, then? We came across him. He was walking like a man who is running away. We stopped him to look into the matter. He had this silver--"

"And he told you," interposed the Bishop with a smile, "that it had been given to him by a kind old fellow of a priest with whom he had passed the night? I see how the matter stands. And you have brought him back here? It is a mistake."

"In that case," replied the brigadier, "we can let him go?" "Certainly," replied the Bishop.

The gendarmes released Jean Valjean, who recoiled.
"Is it true that I am to be released?" he said, in an almost inarticulate voice, and as though he were talking in his sleep.

"Yes, thou art released; dost thou not understand?" said one of the gendarmes.
"My friend," resumed the Bishop, "before you go, here are your candlesticks. Take them."
He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and brought them to Jean Valjean. The two women looked on without uttering a word, without a gesture, without a look which could disconcert the Bishop.

Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks mechanically, and with a bewildered air.

This act is overwhelming to Jean Valjean. He has never experienced mercy and grace at the hands of another man. In the movie, as the police were leaving, the bishop whispers to Jean Valjean. “And don’t forget, don’t ever forget! You have promised to become a new man!” Jean Valjean states, “Promised? Why are you doing this?” The bishop replies, “Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil. With this silver I’ve bought your soul. I have ransomed you from fear and hate, and now I give you back to God.”

Yes, at the doorstep to the father’s house Christ gives mercy and grace. Christ has ransomed us all and in his blood given us back to God. Like Jean Valjean we all have experienced the mercy and grace of Jesus. The mercy of not getting what we deserve and the grace of getting what we do not deserve. Jean Valjean was shown mercy by not getting punished and was given grace in a sack full of silver. In response to this Jean Valjean became a man of mercy and grace, one that shows mercy when mercy is needed and gives grace in abundance. He lives as a man that lives mercy for he has experienced mercy and gives grace for he knows the great power grace can bring. He learned to live as a child of the father’s house.

This is the power of living in the Father’s house. At his doorstep we are transformed and in his presence we are made new day by day. We relate towards others the way God relates to us. We are all unfortunate orphaned hearts but we can enter His house and live as one in his family. Like Jean Valjean we have all told God, “You are good; you do not despise me. You receive me into your house. You light your candles for me. Yet I have not concealed from you whence I come and that I am an unfortunate man."

We see the echoes of the father’s heart in a statement made by the bishop as they sat at the dinner table. Now hear the Father’s heart in the bishop’s words, words spoken from one family member to another.

The Bishop, who was sitting close to him, gently touched his hand. "You could not help telling me who you were. This is not my house; it is the house of Jesus Christ. This door does not demand of him who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has a grief. You suffer, you are hungry and thirsty; you are welcome. And do not thank me; do not say that I receive you in my house. No one is at home here, except the man who needs a refuge. I say to you, who are passing by, that you are much more at home here than I am myself. Everything here is yours. What need have I to know your name? Besides, before you told me you had one which I knew."
Jean Valjean opened his eyes in astonishment.

"Really? You knew what I was called?"
"Yes," replied the Bishop, "you are called my brother."

Always remember, Grace is accepting that we are accepted, receiving that we are received, adopting that we are adopted, believing that someone believes in us, and loving the fact that we are loved.