Isn't Grace Risky?
even mean that the believing sinner is made righteous in the sense of suddenly becoming perpetually perfect. The sinner is declared righteous. God sovereignly bestows the gift of eternal life on the sinner at the moment he believes and thereby declares him righteous while the sinner still lives a life marked by periodic sinfulness. He hasn't joined a church. He hasn't started paying tithes. He hasn't given up all to follow Christ. He hasn't been baptized. He hasn't promised to live a sacrificial, spotlessly pure life. He has simply taken the gift of eternal life. He has changed his mind toward Christ (repentance) and accepted the free gift of God apart from works. Period. Transaction completed. By grace, through faith alone, God declares the sinner righteous (justification), and from that moment on the justified sinner begins a process of growth toward maturity (sanctification). Day by day, bit by bit, he learns what it means to live a life that honors Christ. But immediately? No way.
Please understand, to be justified does not mean "just as if I'd never sinned." I hear that often and it always troubles me. In fact, it weakens the full impact of justification. Justification really means this: Even though I still sin periodically and have found myself unable to stop sinning on a permanent basis, God declared me righteous when I believed. And because I will continue to sin from time to time, I find all the more reason to be grateful for grace. As a sinner I deserve vengeance. As a sinner I'm afraid of justice. And so, as a sinner, my only hope for survival is grace. In its purest form, it makes no earthly sense!
Let's imagine you have a six-year-old son whom you love dearly. Tragically, one day you discover that your son was horribly murdered. After a lengthy search the investigators of the crime find the killer. You have a choice. If you used every means in your power to kill the murderer for his crime, that would be vengeance. If, however, you're content to sit back and let the legal authorities take over and execute on him what is proper—a fair trial, a plea of guilty, capital punishment— that is justice. But if you should plead for the pardon of the
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murderer, forgive him completely, invite him into your home, and adopt him as your own son, that is grace.
Now do you see why grace is so hard to grasp and to accept? Very few people (if any) who are reading this page right now would happily and readily do that. But God does it every day. He takes the guilty, believing sinner who says, "I am lost, unworthy, guilty as charged, and undeserving of forgiveness," and extends the gift of eternal life because Christ's death on the cross satisfied His demands against sin, namely, death. And God sees the guilty sinner (who comes by faith alone) as righteous as His own Son. In fact, He even invites us to come home with Him as He adopts us into His forever family. Instead of treating us with vengeance or executing justice, God extends grace.
Allow me to repeat my earlier statement: To believe grace to that extreme and to live grace at that extreme means some will take advantage of it. Count on it. Some of you have had wonderful experiences in your homes with your children as they were growing up. You've dealt with them graciously and maturely. You have given them room to learn, to grow, even room to fail, as you've loved them, taught them Scripture, and encouraged them. You have raised the kids by grace, as, hopefully, we have in the Swindoll home. And yet some of you are going through desperate times right now, though you did many things right. You gave your child proper freedom and let out the reins when it seemed right to do so. And yet, when your youngster reached an age of independence, he or she turned on you and, surprisingly, still remains in that state of mind. The enormous battle you have is the guilt that goes with it. My prayer is that God might help every one of you going through such a time. I have observed that most parents have no reason whatsoever to live with such guilt. You may struggle with some shame and embarrassment as well, though it is undeserved and inappropriate. In reality, your grown child has made a decision and is living in the wake of the consequences, but unfortunately it impacts you. It grieves you. You fear you may have been too gracious.
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It's that same fear that causes many a minister to stay away from grace lest the congregation misinterpret his message and think of it as "cheap grace," a term we learned from Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Frankly, I'm glad he introduced those words to us. But we need to understand exactly what he meant by them. "Cheap grace" justifies the sin rather than the sinner. True grace, on the other hand, justifies the sinner, not the sin. Let me encourage you not to be afraid of true grace because some have misrepresented it as cheap grace. In spite of the very real risks, grace is worth it all.
Alternatives to Grace
If I choose not to risk, if I go the "safe" route and determine not to promote either salvation by grace or a lifestyle of grace, what are the alternatives? Four come to my mind, all of which are popular these days.
1. / can emphasize works over grace. I can tell you that as a sinner you need to have a stronger commitment to Christ, demonstrated by the work you do in His behalf, before you can say that you truly believe. My problem in doing so is this: A sinner cannot commit to anything. He or she is spiritually dead, remember? There is no capacity for commitment in an unre-generate heart. Becoming an obedient, submissive disciple of Christ follows believing in Christ. Works follow faith. Behavior follows belief. Fruit comes after the tree is well-rooted. Martin Luther's words come to mind:
No one can be good and do good unless God's grace first makes him good; and no one becomes good by works, but good works are done only by him who is good. Just so the fruits do not make the tree, but the tree bears the fruit. . . . Therefore all works, no matter how good they are and how pretty they look, are in vain if they do not flow from grace. . . ." 2
2. / can opt for giving you a list of do's and don'ts. The list comes from my personal and/or traditional preferences. It
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becomes my responsibility to tell you what to do or not to do and why. I then set up the conditions by which you begin to earn God's acceptance through me. You do what I tell you to do . . . you don't do what I tell you not to do, and you're "in." You fail to keep the list, you're "out." This legalistic style of strong-arm teaching is one of the most prevalent methods employed in evangelical circles. Grace is strangled in such a context. To make matters worse, those in authority are so intimidating, their authority is unquestioned. Rare are those with sufficient strength to confront the list-makers. I have much more to say about this alternative later in the book.
3. / leave no room for any gray areas. Everything is either black or white, right or wrong. And as a result, the leader maintains strict control over the followers. Fellowship is based on whether there is full agreement. Herein lies the tragedy. This self-righteous, rigid standard becomes more important than relationships with individuals. We first check out where people stand on the issues, and then we determine whether we will spend much time with them. The bottom line is this: We want to be right (as we see it, of course) more than we want to love our neighbor as ourselves. At that point our personal preferences eclipse any evidence of love. I am of the firm conviction that where grace exists, so must various areas of gray.
4. / cultivate a judgmental attitude toward those who may not agree or cooperate with my plan. Grace killers are notorious for a judgmental attitude. It is perhaps the single most un-Christlike characteristic in evangelical circles today.
A quick glance back through the time tunnel will prove beneficial. Jesus found Himself standing before the brain trust of legalism, the Pharisees. Listening to Him were also many who believed in Him. He had been presenting His message to the crowd; it was a message of hope, of forgiveness, of freedom.
As He spoke these things, many came to believe in Him. Jesus therefore was saying to those Jews who had believed Him, "If you abide in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine;
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and you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." (John 8:30-32)
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sp; He spoke of the liberating power of the truth. Even though the official grace killers rejected His message, He assured them it could make them free. All who embrace grace become "free indeed."
Free from what? Free from oneself. Free from guilt and shame. Free from the damnable impulses I couldn't stop when I was in bondage to sin. Free from the tyranny of others' opinions, expectations, demands. And free to what? Free to obey. Free to love. Free to forgive others as well as myself. Free to allow others to be who they are—different from me! Free to live beyond the limitations of human effort. Free to serve and glorify Christ. In no uncertain terms, Jesus Christ assured His own that His truth was able to liberate them from every needless restriction: "If therefore the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed" (John 8:36). I love that. The possibilities are unlimited. Return with me to Romans 6, where we started this chapter:
Knowing this, that our old self was crucified with Him, that our body of sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin; for he who has died is freed from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, is never to die again; death no longer is master over Him. For the death that He died, He died to sin, once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God. Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body that you should obey its lusts, and do not go on presenting the members of your body to sin as instruments of unrighteousness; but present yourselves to God as those alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness to God. For sin shall not be master over you, for you are not under law, but under grace.
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What then? Shall we sin because we are not under law but under grace? May it never be! (Rom. 6:6-15)
When we were without Christ, we were like ancient slaves on the slave block, consumed by the hopelessness of our depravity, lost, chained to sin, joyless, empty, spiritually bankrupt. All we could do was say to God, "Have mercy. Guilty as charged. I am enslaved to my passions. I am not free to obey my Savior." But once Christ took charge, He overthrew our old master and freed us to obey. Before conversion, all of us were in bondage to sin. After conversion, we were set free . . free to obey. That is grace.
THE INESCAPABLE TENSION
All the above brings us back to that same issue of risk. Because of grace we have been freed from sin, from its slavery, its bondage in our attitude, in our urges, and in our actions. But having been freed and now living by grace, we can actually go too far, set aside all self-control, and take our liberty to such an extreme that we again serve sin. But that isn't liberty at all, that's license. And knowing of that possibility, many opt for legalism lest they be tempted to live irresponsibly. Bad choice. How much better to have such an awesome respect for the Lord we voluntarily hold back as we apply self-control.
I remember when I first earned my license to drive. I was about sixteen, as I recall. I'd been driving off and on for three years (scary thought, isn't it?). My father had been with me most of the time during my learning experiences, calmly sitting alongside me in the front seat, giving me tips, helping me know what to do. My mother usually wasn't in on those excursions because she spent more of her time biting her nails (and screaming) than she did advising. My father was a little more easygoing. Loud noises and screeching brakes didn't bother him nearly as much. My grandfather was the best of all. When
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I would drive his car, I would hit things . . . Boom! He'd say stuff like, "Just keep on going, Bud. I can buy more fenders, but I can't buy more grandsons. You're learning." What a great old gentleman. After three years of all that nonsense, I finally earned my license.
I'll never forget the day I came in, flashed my newly acquired permit, and said, "Dad, look!" He goes, "Whoa! Look at this. You got your license. Good for you!" Holding the keys to his car, he tossed them in my direction and smiled, "Tell you what, son . . . you can have the car for two hours, all on your own." Only four words, but how wonderful: "All on your own."
I thanked him, danced out to the garage, opened the car door, and shoved the key into the ignition. My pulse rate must have shot up to 180 as I backed out of the driveway and roared off. While cruising along "all on my own," I began to think wild stuff—like, This car can probably do 100 miles an hour. I could go to Galveston and back twice in two hours if I averaged 100 miles an hour. I can fly down the Gulf Freeway and even run a few lights. After all, nobody's here to say "Don V." We're talking dangerous, crazy thoughts! But you know what? I didn't do any of them. I don't believe I drove above the speed limit. In fact, I distinctly remember turning into the driveway early . . . didn't even stay away the full two hours. Amazing, huh? I had my dad's car all to myself with a full gas tank in a context of total privacy and freedom, but I didn't go crazy. Why? My relationship with my dad and my granddad was so strong that I couldn't, even though I had a license and nobody was in the car to restrain me. Over a period of time there had developed a sense of trust, a deep love relationship that held me in restraint.
After tossing me the keys, my dad didn't rush out and tape a sign on the dashboard of the car, "Don't you dare drive beyond the speed limit" or "Cops are all around the city, and they'll catch you, boy, so don't even think about taking a risk." He simply smiled and said, "Here are the keys, son, enjoy it." What a demonstration of grace. And did I ever enjoy it! Looking back, now that I'm a father who has relived the same scene
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on four different occasions with my own children, I realize what a risk my father had taken.
There are many joys of being liberated that some of you have never known because you haven't given yourself permission to operate under grace. I don't mean this to sound insulting, but I am convinced that some Christians would be terrified if they were completely on their own. Because they have been told what to do so many years, freedom is frightening. There are people who want to be told what to do and when . . . how to believe and why. And the result is tragic—perpetual adolescence. Without being trusted, without being freed, maturity never happens. You never learn to think on your own.
Someone on our staff at our Insight for Living office informed me several months ago that a woman had called the ministry office to find out what my "official position" was on a certain gray area. When she was told that it's not my policy to make "official" public statements on such issues, she was bewildered . . . actually, a little irritated. She asked, "How are we to know what to decide on this issue if Chuck doesn't tell us?" Some may find her question amusing. Frankly, I find it a little frightening. I thought, "Have we created that kind of Christian, where the minister must make statements in areas that are a matter of personal preference?" There is a fine line between responsible leadership and dogmatic control. All risks notwithstanding, people need to be informed, and then released to come to their own convictions. Why must a minister constantly issue public edicts and decrees? Seems awfully popelike to me. Have we wandered that far from grace?
You will never grow up so long as you must get your lists and form most of your opinions from me or some Christian leader. It is not my calling as a minister of the gospel to exploit a group of loyal listeners or dictate to everyone's conscience. It is my responsibility to teach the truths of Scripture as accurately as I am able and to model as best I can a lifestyle that pleases God (regardless of whether it pleases others) and allow others the freedom to respond as God leads them. That has worked well
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for me, and I plan to continue doing so. Seems to me that was the style Joshua modeled when he told the Hebrews they needed to decide where they stood when he said, "But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." Pretty risky, but it worked.
It still does.
I like the way some saint of old once put it: "Love God with all your heart . . . then do as you please." The heal
thy restraint is in the first phrase, the freedom is in the second. That's how to live a grace-oriented, liberated life. Some of the joyous benefits of such a life? I can think of several. You are:
• No longer helplessly bound by impulse and desires.
• Free to make your own choices.
• Able to think independently without the tyranny of comparison or the need to control.
• Able to grow more rapidly toward greater maturity and flexibility, becoming the person you were meant to be.
And while I mention growing up, perhaps this is a good time to say to all parents, I hope you aren't continuing to look for ways to control your adult children. Release them. Toss 'em the keys. Let them be. Most therapists I know spend too many hours of their day dealing with people's struggles with their parents' messages. It has them all bound up. Let's give our grown kids a lot of room, parents, and let's give them a break. In fact, I would suggest writing each one of them a letter stating their independence, saying, "Now that you're on your own, I want you to know that my trust is in you. My confidence is in God to guide you. And I respect you. You're an adult."
One of the best ways to handle the tension of letting go is to maintain a balance,, realizing that some will take their liberty to an unwise extreme. We all admit that grace is risky. Let's also admit that some will live irresponsibly. You can detect such irresponsibility rather quickly.
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1. There is a lack of love for others . . . little care about anybody else.
2. There is rationalization of out-and-out sin.
3. There is an unwillingness to be accountable.
4. There is a resistance to anyone's getting close enough to give them wise advice.
5. There is a disregard for one who is a new convert and therefore weak in the faith.
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