Jesus also used this illustration with some who were sure that God approved of them while they looked down on everyone else. [Luke 18:9 (GW)]
Look at it this way: At the right time, while we were still helpless, Christ died for ungodly people. Finding someone who would die for a godly person is rare. Maybe someone would have the courage to die for a good person. Christ died for us while we were still sinners. This demonstrates God’s love for us. [Romans 5:6-8 (GW)]
A pharisee is hard on others and easy on himself, but a spiritual man is easy on others and hard on himself. [A.W. Tozer]
Our Lady Cathedral, Antwerp
The bus was loaded with skiers returning from the slopes and I took the last seat before realizing who was beside me. The man was mumbling, dirty, smelly and obviously high. Known around town as “Druggie Donnie,” he manages to survive on a small monthly stipend from his family and whatever he can scrounge up by panhandling or odd jobs. I shrank away from him in disgust. As the bus gradually emptied out, I couldn’t help but hear the words of a disheveled twentyish young woman sitting across from me as she spoke loudly into her phone. She was talking (actually boasting) to her friend about having partied the night before and waking up in an unfamiliar condo with a man she’d just met. I was shocked and sickened by her words. What a contrast these two were with the cheerful families who’d piled on the bus after a fun day of skiing. “These are my kind of people—the happy, sober, sane and moral ones; the good folks,” was my thought. “Oops!” said the Holy Spirit, “Your inner Pharisee is showing!” The town bus is filled with a cross-section of society and the Holy Spirit reminded me that, even though I may have little in common with some of the riders, they all are my kind of people.
Christ died for the ungodly—that includes Donnie and the young woman as well as me and all of those apparently nice upstanding families. Jesus didn’t die because people are good; he died because we’re bad! He wasn’t crucified for the righteous and the devout; He was crucified for the repentant thief on the cross and the Samaritan woman at the well. If we were perfect, we wouldn’t have needed to be reconciled with God. The gospel message is that all sinners (not just the nice respectable ones) who believe in Him will be saved. The loving Father welcomes His wayward children home. The Good Shepherd doesn’t stay with the ninety-nine who have obediently remained in the fold; He goes out in search of the lost sheep who went astray.
I have more in common with Donnie and that young woman than I’d care to admit: we’re all sinners. The only difference between them and me is that I have been saved by Jesus Christ. I can’t be self-righteous because I had nothing to do with that salvation; it was His gift to me. I can only pray that some day, some way, they also will accept God’s saving grace.
Mercy seeks the guilty, grace has to do with the impious, the irreligious and the wicked. The physician has not come to heal the healthy, but to heal the sick. The great philanthropist has not come to bless the rich and the great, but the captive and the prisoner. He puts down the mighty from their seats, for he is a stern leveller, but he has come to lift the beggar from the dunghill, and to set him among princes, even the princes of his people. [Charles Spurgeon]
I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready to unplug the televisions until after the elections in November. It doesn’t matter which party or which candidate, the conduct and rhetoric has become nearly unbearable. Today’s Bible reading took me to Matthew 5 and the Beatitudes—those declarations of blessedness given by Jesus at the beginning of His Sermon on the Mount. I couldn’t help but contrast His words with the behavior of our politicians, their supporters and the news media. I then remembered A.W. Tozer’s observation that, if we were to take the Beatitudes and turn them inside out, we’d have the “very qualities which distinguish human life and conduct.”
Last week, I started a new gratitude journal and thought back to when I first started keeping such a record of daily blessings. More than fifteen years ago, we were spending the entire winter in our Colorado mountain home. Having had the misfortune of breaking my knee the first day skiing, my outdoor pursuits were over for the season. Watching family and friends hustle out the door each morning, seeing their happy faces upon their return, and listening to them recount the day’s exploits became an invitation to my pity party. During a lonely afternoon, while everyone else was out having fun in the snow, I watched an Oprah show about gratitude. I was clearly in the need of an attitude adjustment so keeping a gratitude journal seemed a good idea. Every night, I listed five things for which I was thankful; some days it wasn’t easy but I kept at it. Later that winter, Oprah and several audience members shared some journal entries. Their entries were long, introspective and weighty while mine, for the most part, were simply a list of ordinary everyday things. People wrote of finding sacred spaces, authentic selves, true paths, and deep spirituality while I’d been grateful for figuring out how to manage the stairs in a multi-level house, chocolate chip cookies, seeing a cardinal on the deck, cable TV, and that the library had the Stephen King novel I wanted to read! My gratitude for pizza delivery, ibuprofen, warm fleece blankets and home-made granola seemed shallow when compared to the philosophic reflections that were shared. Some people had even fashioned beautiful hand-made books while others used handsome leather-bound journals—I was writing in a little appointment book we’d received from our accountant!
