Last night, I did something I don't do often.
I went up to the front at Church.
I went up because I've been wrestling with something. And I've had it.
Here's the sermon from last night.
But it wasn't the sermon (though it was very good) that brought me to the front.
It was His kindness through the Holy Spirit, and it lead me to repentance. Not the repentance of being a sinner, but repentace of the sin of trying to add to His grace.
If you listened to the message, you heard the analogy that being in the "sweet spot" of grace is to be in the middle of the "river". Not on the "bank of adding to" and not on the "bank of cheapening", but in the current between the two, where you trust His grace to be enough to take you where you are to be.
I can't even begin to understand, let alone describe how tightly I have let myself become bound to working to earn what Jesus has already given me freely - to "add to" His grace.
And although I'm sure I've been on the bank of cheapening grace, I am usually found on the bank of adding to. Neither bank is where we are purposed to be, but I have seen why the bank of adding to is not somewhere pleasant.
I mean, it seems pleasant when you first get there. Full of opportunity and the chance to prove yourself. You can gain however much value you can muster the strength to earn. You can be as good as what you can do (or keep yourself from doing). And it's awful hard to stay away from this bank. The thought that it's something I did that got me here, puffs up my pride like nothing else. It makes me feel temporarily good about myself . . until I fail.
Then, about the only thing I feel is broken and guilty. Everything good I thought I had earned seems to turn on me when I can't keep up with it. When I've failed at something I had once found my value in, it's like it has the opposite effect. Like the works I had been so proud of are now coming to rub salt in the wound of not being good enough. Then that bank is an awful place to be.
I've been on that bank so many times. And so many times I've been hurt by trying to earn grace.
Last night, there I was, in the front row. I was surrounded by people but it was like He and I were alone. When the pastor first invited people to come up for prayer if we've been banking on either side of the river, the Holy Spirit nudged my heart a little. The band started to sing and play. I closed my eyes and decided I would just work it out from where I was, just He and I, no reason to get too involved.
"You'll never know what difference it would have made if you never go up." And it was true. I looked around and people were streaming to the front. I knew this was me. I knew this wasn't an alter call, but a call to humble myself and just accept His grace.
So I put one foot in front of the other and walked over to a circle of where people had gathered at the front. And there we were. A bunch of humans. A bunch of ground zeros. A bunch of people, sick and tired of trying to define grace themselves - and instead wanting and asking Jesus for His grace to define them.
It wasn't some supernatural, mystical experience. I didn't fall on the floor, slain in the Spirit, and return with a whole new take on life. It was much more real than that. I was encouraged, my heart was softened. And I was blessed to receive, once again in my fragile human estate, the tremendous gift of a fresh start in grace.
I can't deserve or earn it and that's what's so perfect about it.
I went up to the front at Church.
I went up because I've been wrestling with something. And I've had it.
Here's the sermon from last night.
But it wasn't the sermon (though it was very good) that brought me to the front.
It was His kindness through the Holy Spirit, and it lead me to repentance. Not the repentance of being a sinner, but repentace of the sin of trying to add to His grace.
If you listened to the message, you heard the analogy that being in the "sweet spot" of grace is to be in the middle of the "river". Not on the "bank of adding to" and not on the "bank of cheapening", but in the current between the two, where you trust His grace to be enough to take you where you are to be. I can't even begin to understand, let alone describe how tightly I have let myself become bound to working to earn what Jesus has already given me freely - to "add to" His grace.
And although I'm sure I've been on the bank of cheapening grace, I am usually found on the bank of adding to. Neither bank is where we are purposed to be, but I have seen why the bank of adding to is not somewhere pleasant.
I mean, it seems pleasant when you first get there. Full of opportunity and the chance to prove yourself. You can gain however much value you can muster the strength to earn. You can be as good as what you can do (or keep yourself from doing). And it's awful hard to stay away from this bank. The thought that it's something I did that got me here, puffs up my pride like nothing else. It makes me feel temporarily good about myself . . until I fail.
Then, about the only thing I feel is broken and guilty. Everything good I thought I had earned seems to turn on me when I can't keep up with it. When I've failed at something I had once found my value in, it's like it has the opposite effect. Like the works I had been so proud of are now coming to rub salt in the wound of not being good enough. Then that bank is an awful place to be.
I've been on that bank so many times. And so many times I've been hurt by trying to earn grace.
Last night, there I was, in the front row. I was surrounded by people but it was like He and I were alone. When the pastor first invited people to come up for prayer if we've been banking on either side of the river, the Holy Spirit nudged my heart a little. The band started to sing and play. I closed my eyes and decided I would just work it out from where I was, just He and I, no reason to get too involved.
"You'll never know what difference it would have made if you never go up." And it was true. I looked around and people were streaming to the front. I knew this was me. I knew this wasn't an alter call, but a call to humble myself and just accept His grace.
So I put one foot in front of the other and walked over to a circle of where people had gathered at the front. And there we were. A bunch of humans. A bunch of ground zeros. A bunch of people, sick and tired of trying to define grace themselves - and instead wanting and asking Jesus for His grace to define them.
It wasn't some supernatural, mystical experience. I didn't fall on the floor, slain in the Spirit, and return with a whole new take on life. It was much more real than that. I was encouraged, my heart was softened. And I was blessed to receive, once again in my fragile human estate, the tremendous gift of a fresh start in grace.
I can't deserve or earn it and that's what's so perfect about it.
"But He said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
2 Corinthians 12:9