An Unnecessary Weight

          Condemnation is pointless. It does nothing but produce a trail that encircles a drain into hopelessness.

Think about it. Condemnation is harsh. You notice something wrong about yourself. Perhaps you lied or cheated. You wronged a loved one. You mistreated those around you. Your addiction continues to overcome your life. Your obsessive habits control you and you are but a slave to the need for comfort and change.

In those realizations, lies shame. The sick heavy feeling that we all know.
So the next step is obvious: do something.
Isolate the problem, find a solution, act upon it and move on. A simple and easy three step cure?

           Unfortunately it doesn’t work. It might take a few days, or a few months or even a year, but eventually whatever you ran from has returned with a vengeance and you fall quickly into the sin once again. I believe this to be true in both the spheres of believers and non-believers. The cycle of sin - guilt - self condemnation - action – failure. An exhausting cycle that leaves hopeless.

          There is however, another option. I have recently been processing that not many people make the clear distinction between conviction and condemnation (myself included of course). My favorite example of this comes from Genesis 3:

So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food,
and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to
be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit
and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her,
and he ate. Then the eyes of both were opened,
and they knew that they were naked. And they sewed fig leaves
together and made themselves loincloths.

And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden
in the cool of the day, and the man and his
wife hid themselves from the presence of the
Lord God among the trees of the garden.
But the Lord God called to the man and said to him, “Where are you?”

          Adam and Eve have just committed sin – knowingly as most of us do – and quickly hide. As God enters the garden, He does so with purpose. Not to condemn, demand better actions, and leave. But He asks questions. Instead of being angry – as He should be – He has opened His arms to them. In the midst of their broken, rebellious heart, He invites them to be honest in love.

          Upon making any mistake, we get a feeling. A nudge, a quiet voice, something telling us “uh-oh.” For believers, listen. It’s not condemning. It quickly turns into that all familiar shame. But I want to make the point that conviction is nothing of the sort. It is not harsh or rude. It will not produce more guilt. Conviction, in God's grace, is again the invitation to freedom. Sin leads us to death, a separation from God. And thus, when we are convicted, it is a kind opportunity to be forgiven of a specific sin. It is not God's displeasure but is diligent love. While condemnation is a pounding reminder of failure and missing the bar; conviction is a reminder of Christ's righteousness, over stepping the bar. Perfectly living for us when we cannot do anything but stumble and fall without Him.

          We are beggars, sinners, and wanderers. But we never wander too far from home, from God. I wish many of you could read this and see. Read and understand how wrong I am in my vision of God, and in your own perception of how He responds to our sin. He is not condemning. There is no amount of guilt or shame that we are supposed to feel to come home. God’s words are not harsh and angry. He has not abandoned us. Condemnation is from the enemy and from our heart turning us away from the gospel. Conviction on the other hand, that is straight from God. And what I have experienced for the past few months, is much more freeing than my vicious cycle.

          Conviction illuminates our sin, brightly shone in the light of the Cross. But on the Cross it is demolished. Christ’s death removes all shame, guilt, and self-condemnation. God’s voice is gentle, soft and inviting. It is beautiful and full of honesty, love, devotion, and trust. Conviction brings us into His arms. It reminds us of the many promises that we already have in Christ. We come exactly as we are – broken, twisted, rebellious, and full of sin. But God sees past all of that, directly to Jesus. We are invited to look past our sin too, healed, covered in grace, we are invited to follow Him again.

I leave you with a beautiful song chorus:

So lay down your burdens
Lay down your shame
All who are broken
Lift up your face
Oh wanderer come home
You’re not too far
So lay down your hurt
Lay down your heart
Come as you are

Not I, but You

          Today I started a new book. One Way Love by Tullian Tchividjian. No idea how to pronounce that last part. I’ve never heard of the author. I just went to Books-A-Million looking for an encouraging book for my break and bought it. 

          I know it’s encouraging because it’s truthful. And the truth hurts. I write these words in a state of that painful truth. 

          I’m offended by the Gospel.

Which isn’t “uncommon”. In this Christian generation with language that is overused and lacking meaning, that phrase is common. We hear a lot that the Gospel is offensive and threatening to society. That it has the ability to hurt people. But that this powerful message is freeing and brings joy. That it brings hope to the broken and rest to the weary.

And it does. I believe that I’ve had a decent concept of what grace means for me for about a year and a half. I’ve claimed to know Jesus for a while, but I haven’ fully grasped grace. Nor do I now. So this book, the following statements I’ve circled and commented on whilst journaling:

“Grace is one-way love.”

“Jesus came to…free us from the obligation to fix, find, and free ourselves…the need to be right, rewarded, regarded, and respected…and to free us from the tireless effort to establish, justify, and validate ourselves…”

          To which I agree with. Those are encouraging words. Ones that remind me of the Truth of God. That I am saved by His works and not mine. That I am freed by Him through his love and my salvation rests in Him.
Then there were some more:

“Grace is love that has nothing to do with you, the beloved.”

“They [the Christians in the book of Acts] believed in grace a lot. They just didn’t believe in grace alone”

“The Gospel of Jesus Christ announces that because Jesus was strong for you, you’re free to be weak. Because Jesus won for you, you’re fee to lose. Because Jesus was Someone, you’re free to be no one. Because Jesus was extraordinary, you’re free to be ordinary. Because Jesus succeeded for you, you’re free to fail.”

          And did my heart scream panic. I am not ordinary. I work hard in school and my jobs. I did not lose, but won! And I have only failed in some areas of my life. So my successes outweigh those failures. The path went on as my pride continued to self-justify my greatness as Jesus demanded to take away my works and give me rest. Again, in the Christian culture we hear how freeing grace is. How the work of Christ, the Gospel allows us to be the honest broken mess that we truly are.

          I am the first one to admit that I am a mess. And thankful that God allows me to be free from my constant pursuit of perfection and accepts me as the broken sinner I am. However, in that imperfection I am still picking up the shards of glass with some gorilla glue with a blue print of my self-salvation project. I do not believe in grace alone. I believe in grace from God and fill in the blank with my own works. So yeah, I was deeply offended. And this was only chapter one. 

          As my prideful heart screamed, I read on. I wish that I could fill this post with a few more paragraphs of how the book filled my mind with encouraging words. But it didn’t. The chapter ended rather quickly. I wish I could say that I came to my senses and felt a washing of God’s love. But I didn’t. As a Christian, I am still broken. I am still the sinner. I am still the offender. So my prideful heart didn’t simply go away when I believed in Christ. This journey is a fight against my flesh. And in the passing moments, the Spirit is reminding me of who He is and what He has done. So I am thankful to be offended. To have my flesh torn and the Truth come in to save me. Because I am ordinary, I am the failure. I am the daughter who has rebelled and has her own idea of what God is going to do for me in my life. But He is who He is. And His story is different and so much more than what I could ever write. So my heart succumbs to the human nature of death in sin, but Christ saves me out of the pits and calls me righteous. Grace has nothing to do with me, but everything to do with Him.