Only one person here knew me before I came to Christ, and
even then, not very well. It may surprise you, then, that I can count my
Christian time in months, not years. I don’t have very long now to tell of how
I came to where I am today, but it is important nonetheless that I testify as
to how God’s Gospel has worked in me.
The death of Jesus of Nazareth isn’t a trivial matter, but I
never heard about it. So what, I would ask, if a man died on a cross two
millennia ago? Many people did. Growing up in Spain, and as far as I was
concerned, Christianity was useful for two things; the free periods the
non-religious got at school and the frequent holidays in veneration of all the
saints. Church was the building down the road with a bell-tower to chime on the
hour and tell me what time it was. I was allegedly surrounded by 99.8%
Christians, but funnily enough I only ever met one, and he complained about
getting forced to go to mass on Sundays.
A few things happened, which I will later recount, that
completely changed my world-view. There have been many times these past few
months when the significance of grace has hit me – a power that reduced me to
gasps and wowing. The universe is a rather large place, and I am rather small. So
to have the same person who made all that existence has to offer care about me,
was a laughable proposition. That the almighty God who powers the stars,
upholds the world by His Word and keeps ever atom in place would care to know
me? How silly!
Unless it’s true. I have a very hard time grappling with what
it means to be forgiven by God sometimes. God actually knows me, and I thought that would be enough to put any sane person
off! But instead of removing me, instead of deleting me from existence, that He
would care so much for us that He would confine Himself to flesh, give us the
everlasting truth and humble Himself further to hang helplessly and painfully
on a cross? There are no words for that.
Well, that’s peachy. I think I’m great, and God thinks highly
of me, too, right? By no means! Until I grasped that grace was required I am not worthy, I was not God’s own. And it
has made all the difference. Grace sets the tone for everything I do. Grace properly
understood, lights my day with the Lord, frees me from my transgressions, uncovers
my wrongdoings and alleviates my worries. God’s gift in the death of Christ affects
my life like no other event in history, because the death of God’s Son is not trivial.
And that would be enough. That would be more than enough. But
it’s not all. Forgiveness bestowed upon me despite the blackness of my heart frees
me from resentment against others too, for how could I hold their sin
accountable if God does not consider mine? Brothers and sisters, if we would
punish for a penny, why should God not punish us for the whole pound? I am
forgiven, so I cannot help but forgive. I am loved, so I am to love. That is
the Gospel in me.
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