Proverbs 16:25

Over the years I’ve written here (almost three now), I’ve tried to approach the Gospel from a few different sides. I’ve tried to talk through it and bring anyone who’s reading along to, hopefully, a logical rather than emotional conclusion.

The thing is, I know I can’t do it on my own. Not at all. You generally either get it or you don’t. I mean, I know what it’s like, believe me. There was a time I was a “good” guy. I had it together, and if you gave me the Gospel as I know it today, I would have kind of smiled, waved a hand, and said, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it.” But I wouldn’t have. Not really. I was somewhat of an inoculated Christian (a term I heard from Tim Keller) — had just enough of the stuff in my system to not actually catch the real thing.

One of my favorite stories is about a conversation I had with my good friend, Denny. Denny knew the drill. He had a wife who was involved in the church, doing the real thing. He’d witnessed Christianity in action first-hand. So one day, out of the blue as far as I can remember, I said to him, “You know what Denny? I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ve decided that I’m a Christian.” His response still makes me smile. He looked sideways at me with a bit of a smirk and he said, “You’re not a Christian, Bob.” And that was that. Denny was (and still is) a wise man.

But I remember that conversation today, because here was my non-believing friend with at least enough sense to know that I was sitting right there in the same boat as he. I may have had some sense of being a Christian — that is, I was pretty convinced I was a good enough dude to qualify — but I may as well have been a pastafarian for all it mattered, I was so far off.

Because being a Christian isn’t a result of being a good guy. I had it all backwards. It isn’t about me racking up the points by helping little old ladies across the street. And even more shockingly, it isn’t about me being a good, church-going guy who reads the Bible and volunteers at the homeless shelter. These things may rise out of a true Christian faith. As a matter of fact they should rise out of a true Christian faith (James writes that the lack of such works actually demonstrates that your faith is dead and useless). But those good works are not the key to heaven at all — they’re simply the fruit of what’s already got you there: a faith in the finished work of Jesus Christ. Yeah. Not my work. His.

My work is messed up. It’s tainted with slightly twisted motivations. It’s never perfect. I love Ray Comfort because he’ll get to the heart of it for you pretty fast with just a few questions: “Have you ever told a lie?” “Have you ever stolen something (no matter how small or seemingly insignificant)?” “Have you ever lusted after someone?” A “yes” to those questions makes you a liar. A thief. An Adulterer. Take God’s name in vain? Add “Blasphemer” to the list. Hate someone? “Murderer.”

Yeah, but I’ve not actually killed anyone. And the lies I’ve told are only itty-bitty ones. I mean, I’m no Hitler, right?

You don’t have to be. You only have to be a sinner to need Jesus. As Ray might say, “How many lies do you need to tell before you’re a liar?” Only one. And the person who can only stop at one in a lifetime is just about perfect. Just about. But not.

And so what kind of God would we have if he’ll let some of those things slide, while on others, he brings the hammer? He would be a capricious and inconsistent judge. He would be imperfect. Fallible. Wrong on occasion. And what kind of God would that be? One in whom we could put our trust? Not at all. The accusations of the atheist crowd would actually be right in response to a god like that.

So where does that leave us? Well, if you can’t figure out a way a perfectly righteous and just God can also be perfectly loving toward us, you’re kind of stuck. I mean, how could such a God allow me, one who’s clearly violated the laws of nature (that is, the universal laws written upon our consciences — those that all men know and generally follow), into his perfect presence?

I’ve given the solution before by quoting one of the most amazing verses you’ll find in the Bible — 2 Corinthians 5:21: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” This is the exchange. God took it upon himself to pay for what we’ve done, so that in him — Jesus Christ — we can have the righteousness…the perfection necessary to stand in his presence. And to stand for eternity. You’ve gotta love the passage in John’s Revelation (21:3-4): “And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, ‘Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.'”

All the garbage of my life will be left behind…for eternity. And all for the price of simply accepting the free gift he offers in Jesus.

“…let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.”

Revelation 22:17

Let that be you.

The title of this piece is the first Bible verse I read after I was saved. It was a verse that suddenly made sense to me where it never would have before that day. I hope when you read it, you understand…