Grace
I don’t know much about writing but I thought I would give it a try, so I’m sitting in the local pub writing my thoughts into this journal that is neater and cleaner than all my swirling thoughts.
Lately, I’ve been struggling to reconcile the image of Christ I see in the scripture with the image of Christ that seems to show up so often in the darkest rooms of my mind.
You see the problem is that I am not perfect. I realize that for some of you that comes as quite a huge shock: although most of you are shocked by the fact that I’ve only figured that out. What I’m trying to figure out is how Christ sees me in the middle of all my stumbling, failings and shortcomings. The Jesus I meet in the darkness of my mind is not pleased, to say the least. He is always quick to give me a sound tongue-lashing for falling once again, and he loves to force me to relive every one of my failures over and over, ad nauseam. This Jesus likes to sit me down and ask me, “Why did I do that?”, or “What was I thinking?” He loves to call me out for my sinful behavior and to berate me for all my bad choices. For years this was my relationship with Jesus. Needless to say, it wasn’t a very pleasant relationship. I really didn’t look forward to our encounters, and I dreaded what he would say about my latest screw ups.
Then I came across a verse I had read a million times before. Revelation 12:10 recalls this great trial taking place in heaven and Satan is given an interesting nickname: Satan is called the “accuser of the brethren”. Satan loves to accuse us of everything that we’ve done wrong. He loves to point out every screw up and every failing. What struck me was that this is what the Jesus I met in the darkness looks like This accuser that I’ve been wrestling with for so many years.
But this isn’t the Jesus I find in Scripture at all. Think about it! When he’s with the woman at the well he’s got someone here that he has some legitimate dirt against and he does nothing. He is gentle. He is loving. He is restoring. He is reconciling. He is full of grace.
There’s this great quote from Anne Lamott that I absolutely love. She says, “I don’t think much surprises him: this is how we make important changes — barely, poorly, slowly. And still, he raises his fist in triumph.” I don’t think that Jesus is shocked by our sinful behavior; he knew that’s what we were like when he came and died for our sin. I think that he is thrilled and excited on the odd times that we choose kingdom behavior over our usual rebellion.
Quite honestly, I think that the grace of God far exceeds anything that we will ever comprehend this side of eternity. I think that the accusing Jesus I met in the recesses of my mind was nothing but a counterfeit. He wasn’t Christ. He did look a lot like a lot of Christians that I know, but he didn’t look a lot like the real Jesus. I think what I need to do is go on a quest to understand the grace that so enthralled the early church, the apostles, the followers, and I think eventually, me.
