An ancient castle sits in an even more ancient forest. Down deep underneath there’s a dungeon. It’s dark down there; no sunlight has ever shined in. A heavy musty dampness saturates the blackness. A woman sits on the bare floor in the dungeon. Cold, heavy iron shackles clasp her neck and wrists. She’s captive, chained to the stone wall. The woman is a traitor, guilty of all kinds of mutiny and crime. It seems she has been in chains all her life. She tries to think back but can’t recall any moment outside the dark dungeon. She wishes she could undo whatever she did to deserve this captivity, but she can’t clearly understand what it is and doesn’t have the ability to change anything anyway. The woman does have vague memories of other people being in the dungeon also, and it feels like those people should have helped her avoid this prison or at least helped her find the way out. But they were as confused as she is. Many just didn’t care about her anyway. Gradually everyone became separated from her. Now the woman is lonely and afraid, for she knows she is dying. There’s no way to avoid it. Death encloses her, wraps its tentacles around her and hugs her close. She feels life being drained from her soul. But the woman does not die. She sits chained in the dark with death her constant companion.
In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us. (Ephesians 1:7-8)
In a faith relationship with Jesus Christ, we are freed and forgiven.
“We have redemption…” That’s a deep word. It’s a captivity word. In Old Testament times, when a slave was set free for a ransom price, he was redeemed. And when a woman was freed from her widowhood by one who married her, she was redeemed. The Old Testament people called God their Redeemer when he delivered them from their enemies or from any kind of trouble. Redemption happened when the Lord brought Israel out of captivity, first from Egypt and later from Babylon.
Redemption means a person is freed from some kind of captivity. Someone or something has an iron-fisted hold on you that you can’t break. There is no way out until someone else makes the ransom, pays the price, for your release. You’re brought out of that captivity and you’re free.
In Christ, we have redemption. In Christ our freedom has been bought. Because of Jesus we get released from captivity.
What is the captivity? What holds us? What chains us in the dark? Paul spelled it out in another letter he wrote, Titus 2:14: “Christ Jesus…gave Himself for us to redeem us from every lawless deed, and to purify for Himself a people for His own possession, zealous for good deeds.” By our lawless deeds, our disobedience of God’s ways, we committed treason against our Creator and became not his own people. Instead of living out the good life that God put in us, we rebelled and followed our self-centeredness. That became our nature, that became who we are – self-centered, lawless, disobedient, impure, corrupted, sinful. We became captives of that kind of life, shackled by our self-centeredness, chained by our sin, existing with spiritual death – unable to do anything about it and sharing it with everyone else. And we faced the inevitable consequence of treason against God: capital punishment, death, absolute separation from our Creator.
In Christ we have redemption. He frees us from our self-centeredness and rebellion. He delivers us from the darkness. He unchains us from our sinful nature. He raises us from death. Jesus brings us out of our treason and makes us his own. And we don’t have to pay the consequence of rebellion against God.
Jesus paid the ransom for us. He bought our freedom. “We have redemption through his blood…” He died for us. The ransom he paid was his own life given up on the cross. We couldn’t do it. No one else could do it. Only the perfect life of Jesus could pay the ransom for our freedom. He gave it and released us from the dungeon, set us free from captivity to our rebellion and sinful self-centeredness.
We’re in the dungeon by our own doing. We got ourselves into captivity facing the consequence. We rebelled. We trespassed, crossed the boundary that God set. We’re guilty. We’re not innocent bystanders who got kidnapped. We’re traitors against the Kingdom of God who have become captive to our own choices. We are responsible for all the ways we have disobeyed.
But, aren’t we supposed to blame someone else?
I went to my psychiatrist to be psychoanalyzed,
To find out why I killed the cat and blacked my husband’s eyes.
He laid me on a downy couch to see what he could find,
And here’s what he dredged up from my subconscious mind.
When I was one, my mommie hid my dolly in the trunk,
And so it follows naturally that I am always drunk.
When I was two, I saw my father kiss the maid lady,
And that is why I suffer from kleptomania.
At three I had the feeling of ambivalence for my brothers,
And so it follows naturally I poison all my lovers.
But I am happy: now I’ve learned the lesson this has taught,
That everything I do that’s wrong is someone else’s fault. (Anne Russell)
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., after explaining how man (humanity) is a physical being and a spiritual being, said, “There is another principle… It is the recognition that man is a sinner… So often we try to deny this fact. We hate to face it. There are times even in our theological thinking when we have become all too sentimental about man. We have explained his shortcomings in terms of errors or lags of nature. We have sometimes felt that progress was inevitable, and that man was gradually evolving into a higher state of perfection. But if we are honest and realistic, we must admit that it isn’t like that, for man is a sinner… But when we look at ourselves hard enough we come to see that the conflict is between God and man… And so in a real sense the ‘isness’ of our present nature is out of harmony with the eternal ‘oughtness’ that forever confronts us… We are sinners in need of God’s divine grace.” (The Measure of a Man)
People are powerfully influenced by the family and community and culture in which they grow up and in which they live. The treasonous way of life is shared and passed on to us. Rebellion against God is taught and modeled and even glorified. But there comes a point when each one of us is responsible for our own attitudes, behaviors, and choices. It’s on us. We built the dungeon. We shut out the light. We forged the chains. We deserve the consequence. We are guilty.
So something has to be done about that guilt. We can’t get out of the dungeon if we’re guilty. Remember, this is treason against God. It’s the most serious crime there is. Doing some time in the prison then being released is not justice; it’s not enough. This is a capital offense. Only death, only total and complete separation from God forever fits this crime. Something has to be done about our guilt.
That something is “the forgiveness of our trespasses.” Forgiveness is not God saying, “Oh, that’s okay. Don’t worry about it. We’ll still be friends.” 
This forgiveness is in Christ. It’s Jesus taking away our guilt by taking it on himself. Redemption, getting free from captivity and consequence, happened because Jesus took our wrongs on himself and died with them.
So in Christ there is forgiveness. Guilt is taken away. Treason is removed. Disobedience is carried off. Nothing will be held against you. There’s nothing you have to do to pay for your crimes. There’s nothing you have to do to make up for your rebellion. There’s nothing you have to do to suffer for your sin. There’s nothing you have to do to get God to forgive you – you don’t have to convince him that you’re worth being forgiven, you don’t have to beg him to be merciful and forgive you, you don’t have to promise that you’ll do better if he’ll only forgive you. Forgiveness is in Christ. It’s not in you or anything you do.
Forgiveness is in Christ. All you need to do is follow Jesus Christ by faith. Trust him enough to turn your life over to him – to become “his own possession.”
Freed and forgiven “according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us.” We are given a new life based on all the resources of God’s grace, based on all of the wealth of God’s favor, goodness, and love. Grace lavished on us. “Lavished” is the same word Jesus used for the kind of life he came to give us: abundant (John 10:10). Grace abundantly flows all over us. God unconditionally and extravagantly favors us. Instead of living in a dark dungeon or being afraid you’re going to get sent back to the dungeon or always feeling like you deserve to be in the dungeon, God invites you to live in the freedom and blessing of his grace.
Sarah has chosen to live that way. Listen to her story.
I was nineteen years old and crazy in love with Jesus when that preacher told an auditorium I was “damaged goods” because of my sexual past. He was making every effort to encourage this crowd of young adults to “stay pure for marriage.” He was passionate, yes, well-intentioned, and he was a good speaker, very convincing indeed.
And he stood up there and shamed me, over and over and over again. Oh, he didn’t call me up to the front and name me. But he stood up there and talked about me with such disgust, like I couldn’t be in that real-life crowd of young people worshipping in that church. I felt spotlighted and singled out amongst the holy, surely my red face announced my guilt to everyone. He passed around a cup of water and asked us all to spit into it. Then he held up that cup of cloudy saliva from the crowd, “This is what you are like if you have sex before marriage,” he said seriously.
Over the years the messages melded together into the common refrain: “You threw away your virtue for a moment of pleasure… You are damaged goods, Sarah.”
And so here, now, I’ll stand up and say it, the way I wish someone had said it to me fifteen years ago when I was sitting in that packed auditorium with my heart racing, wrists aching, eyes stinging, drowning and silenced by the imposition of shame masquerading as ashes of repentance: “There is no shame in Christ’s love. It’s likely you would make different choices, if you knew then what you know now, but, darling, don’t make it more than it is, and don’t make it less than it is. Let it be true, and don’t let anyone silence the redeeming work of Christ in your life out of shame. Now, in Christ, you’re clear, like Canadian mountain water, rushing and alive, quenching and bracing, in your wholeness. For I am convinced, right along with the Apostle Paul, that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any other power, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. Not even “neither virginity nor promiscuity” and all points between can separate you from this love. You are loved – without condition – beyond your wildest dreams already. Darling, burning with shame and hiding in the silence, listen now: Don’t believe that lie. You never will be damaged goods.”
Abundant life is grace lavished on us. Live in God’s grace, in freedom and forgiveness. Don’t live in guilt. Don’t live in shame. Don’t live in fear. Don’t live in law. Don’t live in religion. Don’t live in judgment. Live in forgiveness. Live in freedom. Live abundantly in grace.
Image by pepperbunbun, deviantart.com