News reporters and analysts surrounded the courthouse. As they conjectured and speculated, they did not observe the kindly older gentleman, with a weathered briefcase, making his way through the maze of cables and cameras, and passing through the courthouse security without arousing suspicion. The hair remaining on this curious man’s head was white. Though it had been combed, the briskness of his step freed several strands, which danced to match the mischief behind his eyes.

The few news commentators, who were given access to the interior of the building, were interviewing the senator, who stood in the front of the courtroom, next to his lawyer.

“No, I do not expect that the defendant will make a personal appearance.” he said with a chuckle. “Regardless, this case exemplifies the frivolous suits which waste court time and tax dollars.”

He paused before he spoke his prepared sound bite, with all the reverence of an actor stating the serious moral of an otherwise farcical charade. The senator allowed his brow to complete its furrow, and his voice to take on the proper indignant tone, which tested well among voters.

“Our system of law is inadequate; therefore, I intend to introduce legislation to make several long overdue changes.”

Aides to the senator surreptitiously applauded and supporters in the courtroom joined in to give the impression of voter approval. The journalists now had what they needed to complete the sound bite expected to air that evening at the news hour across the country.

The camera lights finally dimmed, and the kindly older man, who had walked silently down the center aisle, took the only available seat to get out of the way of the news crews as they exited the courtroom, It was the seat at defendant’s table.

Across the aisle, the senator took his seat, signaling to his wife, children and grandchild, to file into the ones reserved for them behind him. His grandson, Billy, barely seven, had been given an art pad and crayons to use during the proceedings. Therefore, he eagerly looked about him to find a subject he could draw, and his eyes grew wide as he watched the kindly older gentleman place his briefcase on the table in front of him. There was no doubt in the little boy’s mind. He had found his subject and set about creating a portrait.

At first, no one noticed the man at the defendant’s table. Then, a few people in the front row of the observation section began to titter, and an alert bailiff tried to make his way over to confront him, but at that moment, the judge entered the court and he was obligated to stand at attention and call the courtroom to order.

“Now senator,” the judge said as he motioned for everyone to take their seats. “You have announced your new legislation. In the interest of saving time and tax payer money spent in this court, would you please drop this suit?”

“Well your honor,” said the senator as he cleared his throat and stood as if to make yet another speech. “In light of the fact that the accused did not see fit to grace your honor’s court with his presence, I move -”

“Excuse me your honor.” interrupted the person at the defendants table. “Excuse me your honor, but I am here at the bequest of the accused.”

“What was that?” asked the judge. He rose slightly in his seat and peered over the edge of his bench to get a better look. “Are you the legal representative for the accused?”

“Oh no sir.” replied the stranger. “The devil may need an advocate but God needs no legal counsel.”

Stifled snicker, heard throughout the observation section momentarily drew the judge’s attention. Once he stared down any outbreak of laughter, the judge asked, “Sir, if you are not the accused, nor his lawyer, in what capacity to do address this court?”

“Well your honor. I have come to act as God’s messenger, or translator, so to speak. It is His hope that those ears which are closed to His voice may in fact hear mine.”

The translator opened his briefcase, pulled out an official looking document, and presented it to the court.

“I do not see a defendant’s signature,” stammered the judge, “so I do not see why I should allow it.”

“Please your honor,” the translator responded with a soft chuckle, “the last time God wrote something with His own hand, an entire kingdom was overthrown in one night. Besides, who here would be able to authenticate His handwriting?”

Even though he had cited lawyers with contempt for making even less disrespectful comments, the judge saw in this, an opportunity to teach the senator a lesson in law.

“I’ll allow it.,” he said.

Almost every person in the courtroom exhaled at once. Billy smiled as his eye caught that of the translator who seemed to know that the boy was drawing his portrait, and his grandfather, the senator, elbowed his attorney, cuing him to do something.

“Your honor, I object!” the lawyer said, more out of practice than reason.

He knew he should object, but he was so taken aback by the unprecedented course this case just took, that he needed a moment think about why. Finally, he spoke.

“I object, on the grounds that a translator can only be present in court if the accused is also present.”

With a sigh of relief, the lawyer sat down, hoping the judge would sustain his argument. The senator patted him on the shoulder and chided his opponent.

“Yes, how can you translate when God is not here?”

“But he is here!” stated the older gentleman.

He spoke with such confidence that people began to look around in an attempt to identify Him. The translator walked up to the bailiff and asked him for the Bible that at one time had been used to swear in witnesses, and read aloud.

“Psalm 139 - Where can I go to get away from your Spirit? Where can I run from you?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there. If I lie down in the grave, you are there. If I rise with the sun in the east and settle in the west beyond the sea, even there you would guide me.”

“Surely your honor, if God is in all those places,-” the translator continued as he handed the Bible back to the bailiff, “- then He is here also. In a word, we call it -”

“omni-scented!” shouted out Billy, who forgot he was not in the Sunday School class, which his grandfather never wanted him to attend.

The judge laughed, which allowed the rest of the courtroom to laugh with him and break the tension.

“The word you are trying to say is omniscient, my boy,” said the translator as he stooped down to get on eye level with the youth. He rubbed the boy’s hair and stood up. “It means all-knowing. However, I was referring to the omnipresence of God, which the Senator refers to in his own complaint.”

The translator rushed over to his brief case, removed a document and read: “Defendant is present in all places at the same time (Omnipresent).”

“Objection overruled.” The judge said, for he liked the way the kindly older gentleman schooled the high priced lawyer and the senator with their own words. But then, as the judge began to pray silently for wisdom, as he always had done, he realized he could not ask the defendant for help in hearing this case. He had just agreed to place himself in a position of ruling over God.

The poor judge began to sweat as he addressed the plaintiff. “Senator, what evidence do you have to support your claim?”

The lawyer laid his briefcase on the table in front of him and opened it. There he discovered that apart from his lunch and a spare tie, the briefcase was empty. His firm had been so sure that this case would be dismissed, that he was not prepared to call any witnesses or provide any evidence in support of his client’s position. When the Senator saw the empty briefcase, his self assured smile disappeared as he whispered into his advocate’s ear. The lawyer shook his head in agreement, stood, and announced that the senator would be called as his first witness.

“Well senator, could you please tell the court, why you brought this suit?” The lawyer began after the senator was sworn in as a witness.

Clearing his throat, as if to make a political speech, the senator said, “I am already on record -”

“Objection; your honor.” interrupted the translator. “The defendant says the political motivations of the plaintiff have no bearing on this case.”

He paused, listened, and then continued. “The senator must limit his comments to why he feels his claim against God is just.”

The judge was grateful for the objection, for he too did not want to hear another speech. “Objection sustained.” he said, and then, turning to the Senator, he continued, “the witness will limit his remarks to explaining how the actions of the plaintiff justify a permanent injunction.”

The senator was silent for a moment. Never before did he have to limit his remarks, and he was not sure he knew how. Still, he would not allow himself to be belittled by this balding fellow who called himself God’s translator. Pride swelled within him. The entire country would see him take a stand against God on their behalf; they would therefore see what a great president he would make.

“Perhaps it was the defendant’s omni-scent-edness, which allowed him to object to what I was going to say before I said it, but that is not what I smell here. Perhaps this defendant is not omni-literate, and requires His translator to read the complaint I have made against Him.”

“Be careful Senator,” the translator warned, “God will not be mocked. Before he answers the complaints you have raised, He would like to know, on what basis are you able to make these accusations?”

“Objection!” cried the lawyer, “The senator is not on trial here!”

“It’s all right,” replied the senator calmly, picturing himself as the future occupant of the oval office, “I am not afraid to answer any question he has.”

“That may very well be true,” growled the judge, “However, let me remind the witness, that in this courtroom, I am the one who determines the validity of an objection, and anyone overstepping that boundary will be held in contempt.”

The judge paused for a moment to make sure the senator understood, and then said, “Objection overruled.”

Allowed to carry on, the translator asked, “Senator, were you when the earth was created?”

“Of course not.” responded the senator indignantly. “No one was.”

The translator continued to ask questions, pausing momentarily between each to see if the senator would venture a response.

“Can you please explain why only our planet was constructed to support life?”

“Can you explain where wind comes from?”

“Could you please tell us how some creatures can live in the ocean depths far deeper than any man has gone?”

The senator remained silent, pretending to ignore the questions, so the translator continued.

“In your complaint, senator, you are asking for God to be held back from engaging in acts of nature, which you have deemed deleterious acts of terrorism. You offer such examples as: fearsome floods, egregious earthquakes, horrendous hurricanes/terrifying tornados, and pestilential plagues.”

The senator nodded proudly.

“Well senator, since you cannot explain how this earth exists as it does, can you please clarify what effect not having these natural phenomenon will have on this planet?”

“It will make the world a better, safer place to live.” the senator responded, sure that he had answered correctly.

“You seemed to have misunderstood the question.” the translator said sadly, “You wish remove these natural occurrences from the earth’s closed ecological system. What assurance can you give us, that if God did as you requested that there would not be cataclysmic results?”

Rather than the man who stood against God and won, the senator began to see how the people of the earth would hold him personally responsible for unimaginable dangers, and so he replied. “I can give no assurances.”

“If you cannot take responsibility for the cessation of these actions, I cannot rule in your favor.” The judge offered. “I cannot uphold your injunction if the result would be a world worse off than it was before the injunction.”

“Fine.” snapped the senator. “What about those things that the defendant is accused of doing which are not directly related to nature. What about sickness, birth defects and genocides carried out in the defendant’s name? Why should he be allowed to continue with those terroristic acts?”

“Senator, if we lived in a world without sin, as it was first created, then we would not face the horrors you have mentioned. Sin is the result of man’s actions. Why are you blaming God for what your race has done?”

“Objection!” cried the lawyer. “This man is badgering the witness.”

The lawyer looked at the senator for approval and was surprised to the politician could no longer keep his well-tooled public demeanor. Indignation was rising within the senator and would soon spill out of his mouth, so before the judge could respond, the lawyer cowered.

“Objection withdrawn.”

“I have done nothing wrong!” cried the senator. “Why should I and my constituency be forced to suffer because an evil God wishes to repay evil with evil?”

“Blameless are you?” asked the translator in complete surprise of the arrogance of the witness.

The translator removed a pen and a small piece of paper from his briefcase; wrote down a few words, which he appeared to be hearing, and warned the senator as he gave it to him.

“You have heard it said, let him who is without sin, cast the first stone.”

The senator’s face turned from indignant pride to shock as he read the paper. With perhaps a twinge of humility, he relented.

“Alright, I see I am not free of blame and as such I cannot accuse the defendant any longer.”

The senator crumpled up the piece of paper and stuffed it in a pocket. He vowed to burn it later so that no one else would be able to see what was written there.

“Since the plaintiff has removed his complaint,” sighed the judged, “I hereby find in favor of the defendant.”

The judge rose and left for his chambers, relieved not only that he did not have to grant the injunction but also that the translator did not hand a slip of paper to him as well.

The courtroom exploded with emotion. Journalists pushed their way through the courtroom doors, eager to report on what had happened. The senator looked up at the translator with frustration and anger. Although he had been reminded of his sins, he felt no need for repentance. His thoughts were filled with revenge and containing the damage that would result if the secrets on the small piece of paper were revealed.

“Who paid you to do this?” the Senator demanded of the translator. “Where did you get this information?”

“You have said yourself that God is omniscient.” replied the translator, “perhaps now you understand what that means.”

The senator grabbed the translator’s arm and squeezed it in hopes to intimidate the older gentleman into giving him an answer more to his liking.

“Perhaps I can convince you to tell me who is behind this.”

To his surprise, a fire lit behind the eyes of the translator and the kindly old man removed the senator’s hand and crushed it into submission as he spoke in a quiet threatening tone.

“You are correct, there is someone else who wanted me here today, and I volunteered to deliver this message for his sake, not for yours. You complain about things you do not understand, and blame God for what men have brought upon themselves. Even when God speaks to you directly, you continue to deny His existence, His right to sovereignty. You speak in such disrespectful terms about the one I call Lord that I would have found this mission far more fulfilling if I were to have come with a sword.”

“What stopped you!” asked the senator, finally sensing the power of the person who stood before him.

“Even now you do not understand! You focus on the things God does that you do not like, but you do not give Him the credit and glory He deserves for the good gifts He gives you. He gives you life and breathe, and opportunity to seek Him, even though you do not deserve it. If it were not for the grace and mercy of the God you seek to defame, you would not be standing here.”

Just at that moment, the senator felt his grandson pull on his pant leg, hoping to get his attention. He turned for a moment, allowing the translator to pack his briefcase.

“Grandpa, look at the drawing I made!” Billy cried as he thrust a paper before the senator’s face. “That’s you, and that’s the judge.”

“And who is this?” the senator asked pointing to a figure of a man with wings on his back.

“Don’t be silly grandpa! You know who that is. He’s the angel I prayed would come today! See?”

The boy pointed to where the kindly old man was standing. The senator looked up in time to see the translator disappear. However, before he did, for the briefest of seconds he seemed to transform into a shape very similar to the one the young boy had drawn.

Craig and Carol Lynn Rucin are serving with Pioneers in Szczecinek, Poland to assist the local church with evangelism and to help facilitate a church planting movement, both in the Western Pomerania region and throughout Poland.

If you would like more information about their team or about the country of Poland,    
go to pioneerspl.org.