A doxology, if I could.

I wanted to try to blog some of what happened today but I feel it will be hard.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, who gave himself for our sins to rescue us from the present evil age, according to the will of God our Father, to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen. (Galatians 1:3-5)

During the sermon this morning, the pastor told us that out of his "astonishing wealth" he was going to give each one of us a cheque for five million dollars. I barely moved in response to this information because I know that along with being completely unfunny and uninteresting, our pastor is a fountain of falsities.

But he proceeded to make his point (and make it well). What I have been hearing in my head and heart since that time (about twelve hours ago) is that exciting news is news we instinctively share. If I had been given five million dollars this morning, if I had become engaged to be married, if I had gotten a great new job, I would tell people. I would tell people!

And yet... the greatest, greatest, greatest, greatest, greatest news of my life--greatest news of the universe--I mostly keep to myself. I tend to share my big moments and God-joy with other believers which I realise is good and right but there needs to be more. Today I was convicted that I need to strive to be the same person who exalts and boasts about God with believers as I do with non-believers. (After all, He is the same God.)

Twice already this afternoon I've found friends staring at me with that stillness, the focussed eyes, and the mouth hanging a little bit open as they watch me preach without a licence. The truth gets in my bones and sometimes it rolls off my tongue passionately and coherently. This morning and this week the Lord has been tying things together in a magnificent way in my God-given brain such that it is now scratching to get out.

Oh, and the music! The Lord gave us SUCH GOOD music today! Well... He always has but this morning He gave us the right songs to sing and I love Him for it. I'm going to scatter lyrics within this post but here is the list, each one worth a listen or a read: "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross", "How Deep the Father's Love for Us", "Lord, I Believe (Communion Hymn)", "Nothing But the Blood", "At Calvary".


This morning our pastor preached I Timothy 1:12-17 and, with a perfectly apt change of pace, the sermon was designed to be more mediative than expository. The text:

  I thank Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.
  Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners--of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his immense patience as an example for those who would believe in him and receive eternal life. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.

The pastor began by reminding us that, "because of its simplicity, [the gospel] is marvellously profound." We talked about the Apostle Paul's life and conversion and we hung out in verses 13-15 long enough to make a huge impact on me (and on others, it seemed). Our pastor pointed out that the Apostle Paul, who was once a murderous, violent persecutor of the church had been shown mercy, and had been given abundant grace. He had been forgiven and restored into relationship with the Living God. More than that, he had been equipped (or, as the pastor put it, he had "been given something to do") to serve the Church.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

that were an offering far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine

demands my soul, my life, my all.

The Apostle Paul identified himself as the worst of all sinners and therefore held that if he could be saved, anyone could be saved. The preacher asserted that we should all be able to say the same for ourselves. Further, he pointed out that the Apostle Paul was writing about his conversion and rescue near the end of his life so he clearly "hasn't gotten over it." [I love it when funny colloquialisms get transplanted and actually help cast important things profoundly.]

The gospel is just so good.

  It's better than you can imagine and it gets better and riper and deeper and lovelier and sweeter and more overwhelming, amazing, humbling, joy-inducing as the years roll on.


Paul's story is my story. No, I have neither been a persecutor nor a zealous Benjamite. But I am the am the worst of all sinners. I am. I am and I know it to my very core. (As the gospel deepens and ripens and sweetens, so does my awareness of my need for it--that is, my abject sinfulness.) So when someone tells me there's hope ... I have cause to be excited [elated, over the moon, etc.].

Here's the truth: Like Adam, I disobeyed God. I decided I was better without Him and so I cursed Him and turned away. I rejected His law, I rejected His standard, and most of all I rejected the mirror that the Truth never failed to hold up. I am the worst of all sinners. How else can I say it? I hated God and if I were around a few millennia ago, I would have tried to kill Him, too. And the appropriate punishment for mutiny? for high treason against the King? Well, it's death, obviously.

Pity a helpless sinner, Lord,

who would believe Thy gracious Word.

But, oh! my heart with shame and grief,

a sink of sin and unbelief.

I am not exaggerating.... Because I disobeyed, rejected, sinned against God I would die. It's the proper penalty.

And yet....
  and yet....

ugh. language fails.

And yet the offended party paid my debt instead.

You see, at just the right time,

when we were still powerless,

Christ died for the ungodly.

Very rarely will anyone die for

a righteous person, though for a good

person someone might possibly

dare to die. But God demonstrates

his own love for us in this:

While we were still sinners,

Christ died for us. (Romans 5:6-8)

UGH! I still can't get over it. I still can't get over it.
Instead of me dying, the King of all kings died. He beat me to the gallows. He took my place. He wanted so much for me to not be severed from Him, for me to not die, that He died instead. He bought me back into right relationship with the Father. More than physical loss of life, He took the the brunt of the anger of the Holy Father who does not tolerate wickedness. He took a toll I can't fathom.

How deep the Father's love for us,

how vast beyond all measure!

that He should give His only Son

to make a wretch His treasure.

How great the pain of searing loss:

the Father turns His face away

as wounds which mar the Chosen One

bring many sons to glory.

Someone would die for my sin ...but it ended up not being me. Most someones would stay dead when they died, but this perfect, spotless God-man conquered death itself. Yes, that second person of the Godhead, Jesus, He was barbarously nailed to a crucifix to be executed as a blasphemer (ever ironically) but after being dead and buried for a few days, He came back to life. And...imagine--so do we! Those who have died with Christ are raised with Christ! This is very good news. It's very good news.

Oh, the love that drew salvation's plan!

Oh, the grace that brought it down to man!

Oh, the mighty gulf that God did span at Calvary!

Mercy there was great and grace was free;

pardon there was multiplied to me.

There my burdened soul found liberty at Calvary.

It is very good news. I have been set free from my body of death. (Thanks be to God.) And He died to save many. He has not finished calling, rescuing, transforming, equipping, loving pitiful sinners in this world.

I don't know what else to say.