“I need God’s grace. Grace is all I have.”
The man’s eyes swelled lightly with moisture as his sincere words trickled out. It was obvious that his words were not some sort of self-righteous, religious pontificating from a man who was full of himself. We have enough of that in society, don’t we? This man was as opposite from that as you can possibly get.
You see, this man held a secret. It was a sin from the past so personally abhorrent that it continued to haunt the man’s thoughts in the middle of the night years and years later.
The man had killed a dear old woman, but it was not what you might think. It was not done out of hatred or malice; nor was it done to gain an inheritance or any personal gain. Still, she was dead, and the law of God, “Thou shall not kill” taunted him daily.
That is what the law does, of course. It taunts us and tries to convince us to do different and be different, which is precisely what is good about God’s law.
When we see the lights flashing behind us, because we were driving too fast, too wrapped up in our own agenda for the day, and too intent on getting to our destination, we are reminded by the law that we are to drive safe not only for the sake of ourselves, but also for the sake of others. The hope is that the law will change our ways. The hope of the law is that, in the future, we will care enough to drive safe so that we can save ourselves and others.
The problem for the man was that there is no law he could look to, no recipe that he could follow, no deed that he could commit that would save that gentle, old soul from dying. She was gone. For the man, the law was not a road ahead to a better future, but a daily taunt of his sin and unworthiness.
When the Apostle Paul first penned the words, “through the law comes the knowledge of sin,” his intent was to convince people who thought they were great and righteous, that if you look too closely at any of our lives you will find that, in Paul’s own words, “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” Jews have sinned. Gentiles have sinned. We are all in the same boat.
But, the man needed no convincing. As Psalm 51:3 cries out, “I know my transgressions and my sin is ever before me.” He knew where he belonged. When he attempted to located himself somewhere in the biblical story, he constantly found himself right there in Golgotha, the place outside of Jerusalem where the trash was thrown and burned, and where convicts were hung to be derided. I saw himself there, before the crosses, and before the redemption of that one particular cross.
His family and friends knew him as a loving man and perfect father. But, his family and friends did not know the truth. He was the only one alive who knew the truth.
Only he knew that all those years ago he was feeling guilty for not visiting his elderly Aunt. She would call him up while he was on his way to work and ask if he could stop by. She lived along the way. His nieces, who lived out of town, would call and ask if he had a chance to drop in and see if she was being cared for well.
He had not, of course. Life was busy. He had to get to work, and the children needed to get to school. We all know that. Plus, on this particular day, he was coming down with something. His throat was scratchy.
Despite all that, on his way home from work, the traffic was not as bad as usual, so as he passed the highway exit that led to his Aunt’s house, he jolted the car toward the exit at the last minute. He found himself safely arriving in front of her house just minutes later.
It was a short visit, but his Aunt seemed to appreciate it. He felt better much about himself as he was leaving, and he prayed that everyone would now be off of his back.
He found out a few days later as he blew his congested nose and picked up the ringing telephone that his Aunt was in the hospital. Somehow, though her caretakers were extremely careful, his Aunt had caught the flu. In just days she was gone, and his inability to forgive himself had begun.
The family considered it bad luck. “It was probably the mailman,” they concluded, but he knew the truth. He had been so worried about himself and what others thought of him. How could he be so thoughtless as to make her so sick…to the point of death? He belonged in that trash heap outside of Jerusalem, where the refuse is thrown and the criminals left to rot.
Little did he know that the voices in his head, which condemned him and reminded him regularly of his failures and selfish tendencies, are not voices from God. Little did he know that there are other voices, competing with God’s voice, trying to convince us that we are not good enough, or smart enough, or selfless enough, or thin enough, or put together enough. These voices point to the law…to God’s expectations…and tell us that we are losers. But, they are not words that come from God’s lips. These evil voices use God’s holy words, twisting them and contorting them so that we might be convinced that we are not worthy of love.
In the ancient Jewish world, there was this celebration called the day of atonement for people just like him. It was the one day out of the year that the priest would walk into the center of the Jewish temple, the holy of holies, and sprinkle some blood as a sacrifice for everyone’s sin. On this day, forgiveness came.
The Apostle Paul makes a surprising move in the book of Romans and shifts the place of this sacrificial sprinkling from the center of the temple and drops it right on top of the man, right on top of Golgotha, the trash heap. Jesus’ blood rains down on the trash, on the man, and brings forgiveness.
Perhaps, the man cannot ever forgive himself, but the book of Romans wants him to know and trust that Jesus forgives him. “Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to show his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed.”
In others words, we are saved by God’s grace. We are not defined by our past, rather we are defined by the one who forgives us, Jesus Christ.
As Delaney, one of this year’s confirmation students puts it, “God’s grace saves us no matter what we do or do not do.”
Another student, Kynlee adds, “God gave his son so that we could be forgiven and blessed with his grace even if we do make mistakes.”
Abby reminds us that “no matter what we do, no matter how much we sin, and no matter how bad we are God will save us,” and that “it doesn't matter how we dress, what we look like, what we are going through, or who we hang out with God will always answer our prayers.”
Jennifer, yet another student assures us that “God sees us as fit for His love,” and reminds us that Jesus forgives “our sins before we even commit them.”
Kate would likely want the man to remember that “when we are going through a hard time,” that God can use that hard time “as a tool to strengthen us in the end.”
And, the man is stronger now, years later. He is stronger with a faith that does not place trust in himself, but rather, trusts in the one who is genuinely good, forgiving, and full of grace.
“I need God’s grace. Grace is all I have.” The man’s eyes swelled lightly with moisture as his sincere words trickled out. It was obvious that his words were not some sort of self-righteous, religious pontificating from a man who was full of himself. Rather, he was a man who trusted in a loving God who could save a wretch, even like him.
Did he believe it every day? No. But, when the voices would start to condemn him in the middle of the night, he would go into the bathroom, wash his face, and remember to whom he belonged. In the waters of baptism he was made a child of the God of grace. And, that reminder is able to put him back to sleep.
You too have been saved by the one whose heart is full of grace, who puts his own faith into you, Jesus Christ our Lord. He is the Lord of love to whom we belong.
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