God's Truly Amazing Grace
This morning as I read the account of Jesus on the cross in Luke 23, I am amazed at God's amazing grace. So often I sing of his amazing grace or speak the phrase amazing grace without being actually conscious at that instant of what in his grace is so amazing. To almost the same degree that I am captivated by God's amazing grace demonstrated through Christ on the cross, I am humiliated by my own sinfulness - my pride, my hate toward God, my hypocrisy - and then my heart is lifted even higher in praise for God's truly amazing grace. The sum of my thoughts this morning as I seek to draw near the cross can be summed up in Luke 23, verse 34:
"And Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do." And they cast lots to divide his garments."
Jesus, on the cross, in agony, absorbing the furious wrath of His Father, the Trinity of perfect unity from eternity past being ripped in two as God in the form of man hung humiliated, suffering. As he hung, he paid the price for my sins. Each time I've sinned I've said to God through my actions that I wish I were God, I've said to God that I find more pleasure in myself than I do in Him, I've said that there is something more important in this universe than Him, namely me. A puritan wrote that if I were as powerful as I am sinful, God would cease to exist. I've taken my heart which God is jealous for and whored myself out to others and God's wrath justly burns against me and my sins. But there on that cross the payment for each and every one of my sins, and not just mine but for all those in the world who would turn to him in repentance and faith, were paid. So at the cross I find myself shuttering, seeing the hatred of God for my sins and the love of God in Christ to pay for those sins, and I praise Him; I thank Him. I recognize my inadequacy to even feel in my heart the weight of what I see was I read and the inadequacy to express even what i feel.
But then in the second half of verse 34 I see what I truly am apart from God's grace to give me a new heart: "And they cast lots to divide his garments." That's me. Above my head, the greatest moment in all of history is taking place. At the foot of the cross, I have my eyes not trained on God but on myself gambling for some scraps of clothes. Apart from God changing my heart, the death of Christ and God's love for the world mean nothing to me. I would rather gamble for his garments as I thrust one more spear into his side taking pleasure in his grief. Oh how sinful I am! Why would God not just leave me and the rest of my rebellious race to suffer as we deserve in Hell?
Then I hear, 'Father, forgive them." Jesus, looking at the crowd that called for his crucifixion, at the soldiers who pounded the nails that ripped through His flesh and pinned Him to the wood, and at me as I would choose sin time and time again says, "Father, forgive them." Jesus was looking out at worse sin than a husband cheating on a wife, worse sin than a parent abusing a child, worse sin than the holocaust and every genocide and attempted genocide together: Jesus was looking at attempted Deicide: Mankind, killing the Son of God. And he said, "Father forgive them."
I on the other hand get bitter and angry for the littlest things. I am unable to forgive from the heart for tiniest of offense somebody commits against me. I see now at the foot of the cross just how horrid my hypocrisy is. I see Jesus interceding at the Father's right hand, pointing to the holes in his hands, feet and side, saying in reference to my sin "Father! Forgive Him! I paid the price!" And I feel the love of God the Father, looking on me as a child, looking on me with the love that he has for his Son, seeing me not as the one that murdered his Son, but seeing me with the love a father has for a son. Because of what Jesus did on the cross I am His son; all those who have been saved are His children. And because of the change that he wrought in my heart I look to him and cry out as a child, "Abba, Daddy, Father." Knowing that Christ's love moved him to beg God for forgiveness in the face of the greatest sinfulness even frees me from guilt that constrains and motivates me to greater to devotion to this God of truly amazing grace.
Oh 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.
Behold the man upon the cross, my sin upon his shoulders. Ashamed I hear my mocking voice, call out among the scoffers. It was my sin that held him there until it was accomplished. His dying breath has brought me life. I know that it is finished.
I will not boast in anything: No gifts, no power, no wisdom. But I will boast in Jesus Christ; his death and resurrection. Why should I gain from his reward? I cannot give an answer. But this I know with all my heart: His wounds have paid my ransom.
