I have been doing more and more study on what grace and real love looks like. The book Ragamuffin Gospel has been recommended more than once to me, so I picked up the other day and started reading. Needless to day, I was astounded by what I was reading.
It seemed the book had been authored for me alone. The message is simple, clear, yet astoundingly deep and functional in it's application. Without presupposition, he states it clearly: "The sweet sound of amazing grace saves us from the necessity of self-deception. It keeps us from denying that though Christ was victorious, the battle with lust, greed and pride still rages within us."
Being saved does not mean I am exempt from the ability to reek absolute destruction in the world around me. No one wants to admit it, but we are all capable of kicking the puppy.
Even after having "said the sinners prayer" and accepting Jesus into my heart, still I can rage, lie, be unrepentantly selfish, act with disregard and disdain for those I love. I still have carnality coursing within me. We all do.
No matter what dressing we put on it, no matter how we try to cover it, we try to deceive ourselves and fool those around us, it can't be denied. Ironically, its the denying that allows it to survive so easily. Out of sight, out of mind does not cure. It sweeps it under the rug and makes me feel like I am living exactly what I am living, a giant play act.
Thankfully, the Savior is not surprised by these facts. He is not stunned by bad behavior and evil intentions. He is not daunted by ugly acts and my ability to absolutely ruin something beautiful He entrusts to me. He still looks at me and says "Ready for dinner? The guests are arriving. Go wash up."
"But however much sin increased, grace was always greater; so that as sin's reign brought death, so grace was to rule through saving justice that leads to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." (Romans 5:20-21)
I know the temptation to immediately counter with "Hey though, remember, we can't stay there. We don't test grace with sin." Of course not. But jumping the gun, moving so fast past the awesome grace, moves me straight into the denial of that very grace by putting boundaries on it. All of the sudden in becomes a tight-rope walk of which becomes greater: God's grace, or my ability to bear down and prove that grace by acting right? I shouldn't have to even say which one is stronger.
It's risky isn't it, trusting nothing but the grace of God? Admitting that I am nothing without the grace of God, that I can only play act so long, that I can only be good enough for so long without completely screwing something up, that seems so defeating. It feels so hopeless, knowing I can fix nothing. There are no guarantees when the control is out of my hands.
By the grace of God, I am brought low. I am reminded of my inability and my need. I am brought to my knees at seeing my own destructive behaviors. As I watch the puppy whimpering on the ground from my crushing blow, my soul and heart are crushed by the weight. Then, on top of that, I have only a mustard seed of faith, dirty rags of barely enough belief in Him to get me through a day to offer Him in sacrifice for my actions. Haltingly, I cry out "Save me! I believe, help my unbelief!"
All I have to offer Him is my desire to believe, I desire to know, my desire to be broken by His unimaginable grace. Let me fail so I will see, if that is need be. Grace must wound, as great St. Augustine once stated.
In the story of Jonah, the town of Ninevah comes to believe when they hear Jonah proclaim the news of their near devastation. Word reaches the king and he rips off his robe, putting on sack-cloth, sitting in ashes prostrating himself before a God his people have not know. He excepts their impending doom, simply stating: maybe this God, if we prostrate ourselves, will turn His heart and decide to not destroy us. There is pleading in his words, but acceptance in His actions. Hope in knowledge, but sorrow in sin. The Lord is moved and does not bring their destruction.
It's one of the most beautiful pictures of the encounter between sin, humility and grace. In between the sin and the grace came the moment of prostration. The word leaves Jonah, "Your actions deserve death." The option comes from the Lord. Here's your moment of choice: how will you handle this? The city of Ninevah broke. They allowed themselves to be broken. They saw themselves for what they were, didn't make any excuses and purely and unabashedly cried out for rescue... and He did.
Grace came and rescued.
Jonah on the other hand was embittered by this. The grace shown them was an affront to him and his sacrifice to bring the word. "What?! Are you kidding me? You brought me here for THIS?! I KNEW this was going to happen! This is so like You! I want the city destroyed! Come on!!!" So he went and sat outside the city waiting for just that.
I love the Lord's response. He raises a tree over Jonah's head. It grows and shades him. He basks in the beauty and loves the tree. Still though, he seethes, waiting for the destruction of a city, since he deserves that. Then God destroys the tree. Take away the last thing that kept Jonah feeling justified, refusing to acknowledge that the entitlement of His people did not excuse them from the need for humility and grace.
The Savior does not let Jonah sit comfortably in his own arrogance, his own desire to be right, to have what he wants more than what is good and right. God is too good to keep letting Jonah from being humbled and brought low. It's a reckless love, ferocious and unyielding He offers, but it is also complete and perfect.
So here I sit, wondering how many times I have been Jonah and how many times I have been Ninevah. As I read, I look back down at the puppy, take off my robes, put on sack-cloth and prostrate on the ashes saying "Hosanna, this is the destruction I bring. Save me. I have destroyed what You have given. Oh Lord, oh Savior, oh Beautiful One, please, have Your way. I'm so sorry."
I know the only safe place I exist, the only place that will heal the wounds I have caused, that will rebuild the walls I have torn down, that will forgive me for the destruction I can cause, is in the presence of the only One who not only sees it all, but accepts me anyways. He's also the only one that can save me from it.
Oh Grace, abound. Abound in me. Transform me in humility, thankfulness and need. Bring me Your will Lord. Oh Hosanna, God of Second chances, scar and mark me for good. Change my heart and let me see Your grace and depend on it for my very breath. Make me slow to speak, abounding in grace for others, love for You and acceptance of my own humanity. Let me see life through untainted eyes and never, ever let me deceive myself again. Remind me everyday of the destruction I can bring and Your ability to save me from it. Oh Savior, save.....
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