Bowling Green Covenant Church

I am at this moment still basking in the radiant warmth of a
hunter’s satisfaction with a successful campaign. I have rid
my home of a mouse.

Said mouse was discovered-dead-at approximately 5:18 a.m. on
Wednesday morning February 8, 2006. The time of death is
estimated to have been between midnight and 5 a.m. The cause
of death was the result of the primitive ingenuity of the
Victor mousetrap company (69 N. Locust St., Lititz,
PA/www.victorpest.com).

I shall not mourn said mouse, nor shall I regret my action,
which hastened its demise. A man must defend his home
against vermin after all. My Jill can now sleep peacefully
at night. Her man got his man, or mouse as in this case.

Would that my tendency to sin were so easily trapped and
killed. This business of the mortification of the flesh
often finds me caught in traps a more prudent man (or mouse)
might otherwise avoid. But then the bait is so enticing-the
Sirens’ song an alluring one be it lust, greed, gluttony,
anger, pride, envy, or sloth. For the mouse it was peanut
butter.

It is the nature of bait to blind the tempted to the
seriousness of the trap. The trap is not unseen merely
ignored. It may well spring but it won’t catch me. I am too
clever. I am too fast to be caught. I am invincible. The
truth is otherwise. I am stupid. I am slow. I am mortal. I
am caught in the trap not because I cannot avoid it. I sin
because my desire for the bait is greater than the fear that
I might get caught.

The mouse must have sensed the danger. Did the mouse treat
it as a game? If so, the game ended most unfavorably for the
mouse. The creature’s position on the trap indicated that
the bar almost missed-almost. The mouse is (after all) dead.
The force of the bar’s swift snapping jaw caught enough of
it’s snout to kill it. The same trap that painfully pinched
my fumbling fingers when I set it killed the reckless
vermin.

The bait used by sin to tempt creates the same sense of
danger/adventure. The game is on. How close may I approach?
How near the edge? How far may I go? I am aware of the trap,
but the longer I eye the bait, the more I inhale its
seductive aroma, the longer I listen to its siren song, the
less I care about the sudden snap at the end. And when it
snaps I am hurt. I am remorseful. I mourn my stupidity. I
moan a prayer for mercy. I plead contritely for grace. I cry
for help.

And God is gracious. He opens the trap with hands that bear
the marks of another trap. He forgives. “I, too, once felt
the snap of sin’s deadly trap,” He says. “My death is the
reason I can rescue you now. I was sinless, but I became sin
for your sake so you might become My righteousness. I died
so you may live.”

We would think a man insane were he to die for a mouse.
Moreover, we would consider him beyond recovery in his
madness were he to insist on becoming a mouse. And yet Jesus
was in His right mind when He died for us stupid, slow,
fumbling mortals down here. Jesus is not insane. He is
infinitely gracious; endlessly merciful; eternally loving.
Jesus, the Eternal Son of God stepped into our flesh for the
very purpose of stepping into sin’s trap. He gave Himself
the cross. Each clang of hammer on nail, pealed like a bell
tolling the good news of His conquest and our liberation.
Sin is paid for. Death is beaten. Christ has died and in
dying He triumphs over His foes. In rising His glory is
displayed as the Lord of Life.

So while I will not mourn mouse’s demise I will be thank for
its having entered my life. Through its death God opened a
window into His character and my soul to remind me that when
I am weak He is strong. When I am afraid He is courage. When
I am tempted He is able to deliver. When I am trapped He is
willing to forgive.

And set me free.

You think about that.

MM