When I was a little girl, I was told a story about grace.
It went something like this...
God made a perfect world, but we humans are sorry,
ungrateful creatures. We disobeyed God. In fact, we made such a
mess of things that we can't even be near Him. Then Jesus, His Son, said
"Look, how about I go down there and live a perfect life, then die for
their sins? That way, when you look at them you'll see me instead."
To which God huffed a resentful "Fine". So Jesus did just that, and if
we believe in Him, He'll save us from God’s wrath. The End.
Amazing Grace, how ... sweet? the sound...
Granted, over the years - as I was introduced to various
theological interpretations - my understanding of grace grew more
sophisticated, but one core truth always remained: God didn't like me
very much. He had no choice but to
love me, but if it weren't for that deal He made with Jesus, nothing would make
him happier than to drop me into a pit of burning flame (courtesy of Jonathan
Edwards).
There's a problem with this story. Well, there
are a lot of problems with this story, but the biggest one is this - it doesn't
work. When you really need saving, this grace is too small.
In 2002 we moved a 3 year old, 2 year old, and 2 week old
from my home state of Virginia, to Charlotte. Just months before, our oldest
had been diagnosed with autism, so before I’d even had a chance figure out how
to get to the grocery store, I jumped into specialists' appointments and IEP
meetings. What we didn't know at the time was that I was also physically
sick. All I knew was that I felt completely inadequate. Overwhelmed.
Exhausted. And eventually, Hopeless ... Ashamed ... Depressed.
I needed saving - not from hell after I die, or from some
theological abstraction we call "sin". I needed grace to get out of
the bed in the morning, to put food into my mouth and swallow it, to smile at
my husband, to not scream at my children ... to keep breathing.
I needed saving in the worst way.
What saved me wasn't the grace of a cosmic legal
transaction or a magic prayer of conversion. I was saved - I am
being saved - by a simple but profound truth. I am dearly loved.
Extravagantly, immensely loved. Freedom came in renouncing lies I'd agreed to
and rejecting ugly pictures of God painted for me by others, and instead daring
to embrace what I'd longed to believe all along: God is Love. And
God loves us. All.
This is what is saving me today: recognizing that
Grace is Light, Love, Power from an ultimate source of Good that never runs
dry, available to me at every moment. Grace is the sun on my face, the
wind in the trees – grace is the air I’m breathing in right now, then back out again as I speak these
very words. Grace is a force that literally changes the world. Jesus LIVED grace, and invites me to do
the same.
This is often harder to believe than the story I'd been
told as a child. As far-fetched as that one sometimes sounds, it’s neat - wrapped up
and clean. THIS grace? It's scandalous! And the more I grow
in it, the more confused I become about what I know for sure and what I don't. So
I try to stick to what I DO know:
Breathe. Walk. Love. Pass what has been given me on to others.
As I do, I continue to be awed by the sweet sound ... of amazing grace.
