| October 11, 2009
From the First Baptist Church in America - Providence, Rhode Island You are welcome to reflect on this message – October 11, 2009
Grace is something most people never think about ... till they need it. Our options are limited when it comes to grace: there's only 2 things you can do: take it or leave it. Instead of God coming among us in self-promotion and deceit, John connects the incarnation with “grace and truth.” There’s something about that phrase “full of grace and truth.” Even more so because ours is a graceless era, where truth is a scarce commodity. The order is significant: grace precedes truth. But they go together or they don’t go at all. Grace leads to an understanding of truth. Truth without grace is cold and empty. And grace without truth is shapeless goo.
I came across a touching story from World War II about some soldiers who brought one of their fallen comrades to a cemetery in France for burial. The priest gently inquired whether he was “a baptized Catholic.” They didn’t know. When he sadly informed them that he couldn’t permit his burial in the church yard, they were a little bit miffed, but had no time for reprisal. They buried him just outside the cemetery fence. The next day they returned to leave some flowers before moving on, only to discover that they couldn’t find the grave. They were about to leave when the priest showed up. He allowed as how he was so upset about the cemetery rules, that he moved the fence, in order to include an American GI, who gave his life trying to liberate France. It’s a paradox: truth demands that we build some fences. But grace demands that they be flexible.
Just so, Jesus tied truth with freedom: “You shall know the truth and the truth will make you free.” Somebody said the truth will make you mad! Maybe that’s one reason some folks don’t like to have their picture taken. When Jesus spoke, it was compassionate truth-telling. With the woman caught in adultery he put grace and truth together. “Neither do I condemn you,” (grace), and “go and sin no more,” (truth). That's what Jesus invites us to, not a condemning telling of the truth.
One can only lament how integrity in our society is in short supply these days. Every day a new outlandish revelation occurs, as salvo after salvo assaults us with corruption, more unbelievable than the one before. Consequently, our society has put grace on the bottom rung of the ladder. Because we're too busy seeking shortcuts to wealth, too intrigued by the lure of success at any cost, too threatened by failure and intolerant of mistakes, too busy looking for somebody else to blame whenever we get caught doing something we wish we hadn’t done; when a guilty conscience takes up more space than the rest of our insides.
Stuff like that makes it hard to traffic in grace. Which may explain the biblical reticence to describe grace more than it names it. The word never appears with Abraham or Moses. But the reality is there. Luke missed a good opportunity to mention it in his story of “the prodigal son.” Matthew and Mark never bring it up at all. For all the healing, feeding, and liberating in the first two gospels, neither of them says "grace" once! Only in the first Chapter of John is it cited a paltry three times, plus once in Luke, for a grand total of four times in all the gospels.
However the Apostle Paul more than makes up for it, 89 times. But that only confirms the silence of the gospels. You can wear yourself out naming it or just inhale, because you know your life depends on God's most mysterious gift. Naming grace isn't easy, because we keep getting it mixed up with good fortune. And those who have plenty of it seem to prefer that it falls only on those who deserve it. Saying silly things like, "You must be doing something right," which betrays how we're loathe to believe God's grace might be unrelated to human doing. And then this awful but popular one: "There but for the grace of God go I." It’s one of the cruelest things we've ever done with the grace of God. I hope you won't ever say that, because it assumes the absence of God's grace in somebody else's life. “I have it, but they don’t.” It just turns grace into a pair of antiseptic rubber gloves that separates the “clean from the unclean.” And assumes God sees things the way we do; or likes us better than others. And we know better. Practicing grace isn’t selling out to “accepting the way things are.” It's recognizing God “in the midst of all that is,” including the good and the bad. We think grace ought to be fair. But if it was fair, it wouldn't be grace. That would only lower grace to the common level of just one more thing we deserve.
In the Book of Acts, the church began with broken‑hearted failures. Peter was a very successful preacher. But he also had a checkered history, having denied the Lord in his most vulnerable moment, after boasting he'd never do it. In spite of that, Jesus looks him up and says "I've got a job for you to do, Peter!" That's grace. "Feed my sheep.” “Take care of your sisters and brothers. They need you and you can help them.” Jesus didn’t draft Simon Peter because of his accomplishments, but because of his brokenness. Only somebody who’s plumbed the depths of failure has a story that means something to those who feel like quitting. That’s the only way they can know God's grace can heal us at our worst. Nothing is a more powerful motivator for good, than the God of second chances for those who don’t always get it right.
So on Pentecost, Peter's preaching the greatest failure of all, the cross of Christ and the grace of God ‑‑ the central themes of all faithful Christian preaching ever since. There’s a lot of “success” evangelism today that talks a good game of morality. But it’s mostly just that, a game! Good religion isn’t just about us being good. It’s being good for something. Even Jesus, when somebody called him “good Master,” said, “Why do you call me good?” As if he was embarrassed about it. The primary hope for humanity is not in our keeping the rules or being moral. But that we'll recognize God loves us in spite of ourselves. Jesus never said "If at first you don't succeed, try, try again." Rather, "When you fail, remember God loves you anyway." Not because of what we do, but because of who God.is. That's grace.
God thinks each of us is the best thing since sliced bread. So all that's left for us is to accept God’s wonderful gift of acceptance. You won’t find much grace around in our society. We’re far better at judgment and exclusion – and think we know which sins are forgivable and which are acceptable. So we spend more time trying to decide what people deserve, or spin our wheels trying to make sure outsiders comply with our pet formulas for how things ought to be done, which only sidetracks our efforts to give them what they need. That's not grace. That’s being in control.
Unfortunately churches are made up of people, with our own brand of peculiarities, stubborn opinions, inflated egos, and control anxieties -- which guarantees there’ll always be moments of slogging through the mud. But also moments of soaring. Church is at its best when God's grace is dispensed and received. When it’s a place where we can be accepted -- breaking bread, sharing life, giving thanks, praying for one another, inhaling and exhaling the hope of God’s goodness and mercy.
In a grace place, there’s no need to hide behind a mask. A grace place is where we can be honest; admit our short‑comings openly and define our strengths collectively. That’s a sure-cure for our self‑imposed maladies as good as any medicine you can buy. Church at its best is not about how successful we are. It’s about how good God is. It’s not hard to tell the difference between a grace place and a judgment place. One hears the music, gets blessed and becomes a blesser. The other listens for mistakes and points and pounces.
What's the greatest strength of any church? The number of attendees? Having lots of money? A nice building? Or well‑oiled organizational structure? What would Jesus say? “If you did it to the least of these...” That’s what make the church great; when it exists for anyone hungry to live in light of God's grace and for everyone in need of it. What I like about our church is, it’s a place where acceptance doesn't have to be earned. Where weakness doesn't have to be hidden. Where love trumps the law. Most days. It’s a place help is offered when its needed, whether or not its deserved. Where forgiveness is granted even before confession. Where encouragement occurs more than criticism. Where joy characterizes our existence. After awhile it hits you -- grace is better when it’s shared than when its found. Which is what God reminded the Apostle Paul, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2 Cor. 9).
There's a rabbinic parable about a farmer with two sons. He taught them how to make a living at it, so that when he got too old to work, they could take over. After their father died, they worked so well together they stayed at it, each contributing to the common good. At harvest-time they divided equally what was corporately produced. The older brother never married. But the younger one did and had several kids. One year the bachelor thought, "My bother has ten mouths to feed and I only have one. He needs more of the harvest than I do, but he'd never let me give it, if he knew it. In the middle of the night, I'll take some of what's in my barn and put it into his." That way he’ll never know.
Unbeknownst to him, his brother was thinking the same thing. "God’s given me a wonderful family. But my brother’s not so fortunate. He needs more of this harvest in his old age than I do. But I know him. He's too fair‑minded and would never let me get away with it. So while he's asleep, I'll take some of what's in my barn and slip it over to his." That way he’ll never know. So one night under a full moon, sure enough the brothers met face‑to‑face, both on their mission of generosity. Though there wasn't a cloud in the sky, a gentle rain began to fall. You know what that was? God weeping for joy, because two of his children got it.
They had discovered grace is the deepest characteristic of the Holy. And because we're made “in His image,” sharing that grace is the secret to our joy too. It’s Just another example of enfolding grace into truth. Because all God's saints must know that success is never final. And failure is never fatal. But what makes the difference ... is grace.
Providence Prayers: (10/11/09)
But it also staggers us, because somebody's got to guard righteousness. But we keep forgetting that righteousness is to be practiced, not protected. Pardon us, singly and corporately. Neither time nor circumstance seems right for grace, because if so, something other than grace would have to suffice. Remind us in this hour that it’s by the grace of God that people are kind; that we show respect and compassion for one another; or take upon ourselves somebody else's pain, and like a golden cord, it is grace that binds our hearts together. As we just try to make it through another day of life.
We pray for all who are near the breaking point: the unemployed, those living on the edge, the grieving, the caregivers of the suffering, and those who have inched away from Thee, left only with the pain of a remembered gladness that they no longer enjoy.
Accept our thanks as beneficiaries of Thy grace. For such as we is Thy grace bestowed, without measure, without price. Humble us to receive it and make us glad that we can never go where Thou art not, nor sink beneath the level of Thy love. Work Thy will through us. And if not us, then Thy will be done through others. Accept our praise as we worship together, mindful of our indebtedness. With gratitude as the sounding note of our celebration: "'Tis grace hath brought us safe thus far, and grace will lead us home." Through Christ our Lord...Selah. |