What Really Matters

My dad was the dunker. He and I had practiced out of the water several times, he telling me what he would say and when to grab my nose. So, when the time came, we executed the task with superb precision. I had gotten a little emotional when he asked me if I believed that Jesus was the Son of God and that He had come and died to take away my sins. At the time, I was embarrassed by the tears. Now, I am embarrassed that I was embarrassed - there never being a more appropriate time to be emotional. I came up out of the waters of baptism on that fine Wednesday evening to a line of proud huggers, mostly my parents' friends, and the promise of a robe and a crown and a soul-to-soul reunion with Jesus someday

I spent the next fifteen years trying to be good - not cussing, not drinking, not smoking, not having sex, not worshiping using instruments, not accidentally swallowing the wrong kind of bread during communion. You know, being good. Not sinning. There were a hosts of things listed in the Bible that I knew I shouldn't do. And, there were a host of things preached from every pulpit of every church I ever attended that also equalled sin that I was expected to abstain from. And, for whatever reason, I understood that if I wanted to be loved, saved, and accepted into heaven, I was to follow these laws; the ones from the Bible and the ones from the pulpit.

I was terrible at it. I was always finding myself in the middle of some kind of sin. And, then, I would think of one of those lesser-known sins (gossip, lying, gluttony) and really sink. And, since I couldn't seem to keep myself out of sin, I knew that I couldn't really be saved, loved, and accepted into heaven. I was only "in" for as long as I could be good, and I wasn't very good at being good. I was pretty sure I had been placed on probationary status there in the Book of Life and that at any minute, my sins would show up, God would roll his eyes, and thump me out of line but always allowing me to try again to earn my spot back. He was a gracious God, after all.

I do not know where I got the jilted and twisted idea that my actions, good works, and faith got me from point A to point B, and then God's grace took over, getting me from point B to the pearly gates of heaven and that robe and crown I was promised. And, I cannot pinpoint the day when Christ's sacrifice for me became real I cannot remember when I stopped thinking God's grace was the grout between the tiles of my righteousness and understood His righteousness was all there was. But, by the grace of God, I did come to understand. He was all I had. He was all there was.

Luke's telling of the Parable of the Lost Son resonates with me; more so these days than ever before. I had always pictured that lost son demanding his inheritance and then hustling himself right down to the local bar to blow it all. Luke 15:13 says he "... squandered his wealth in wild living..." That phrase gave way to my imagining all sorts of terrible sins that the Lost Son threw his money away on.

But, in truth, all of us suffer in wild living and money squandering without the saving Grace that Jesus brought us. No matter how good I am or how little I sin, I am nothing without Jesus and God's grace and mercy. Even in my best days of strong faith, good works, and letter of the law following, it amounts to nothing without Jesus. it's all pig slop without Him; every bit of it.

"But the father said to his servants, 'Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him..." Luke 15:22a

I have been promised a robe and a crown. And some sweet day, I'll sing up there, wearing my robe and crown, the song of victory. Not because I have been so good. But, because He is.