It’s interesting to think of just how much our past limits our future. Talking with a friend recently, I listened as he told me about a relationship in which he’d let a person down. This happened before his re-dedication of his life to Jesus, and now he wanted them to know he was sorry and that he’d changed since. What frustrated him was that his friend rejected his apology, opting not to forgive him for what he’d done in the past, and so now my friend was feeling stuck, desperately wanting a friend he’d badly hurt to understand his change of heart.
Listening to him explain the situation I empathized. I’d been there too, and what I said to him was that he couldn’t wait around here for too long, holding out for closure. I could tell how badly he wanted to be understood, to be forgiven, and I was worried he might exhaust himself trying to earn the forgiveness they hadn’t given him.
Once we recognize our need for forgiveness, our past stares us in the face and says, “Deal with me!”, our initial reaction is usually one of two things: 1) We try to forget our need for grace, growing more and more defensive over time, justifying every single thing we do. 2) Or we try to earn our salvation, committing ourselves to the impossible work of redeeming ourselves by our deeds, however long it takes.
The trouble is that neither way works. With the first solution we may be able to forget that we’re fallen beings on a good day, but over time we’ll either have to come to terms with our faults or build up a skin of denial and defense that is thick enough to keep everything, and everyone, away from the most tender part of our being. With the second solution we may begin to feel like we’re accomplishing something, paying off our debt, but eventually we’ll be overwhelmed. Every fresh mistake we make will add years to our indenture, and one day we’ll die with a weight of unfinished business.
The incredible thing, though, is the hope found in Christ Jesus.
As Christians we’re unique in the fact that we can know we’re sinners without being limited by that part of our identity. When Christ died on the cross he gave us the freedom to stand up and say, “I am a sinner, but I am also loved by the creator of the universe! I did have a debt to my name, one that I could never have paid off, but it has been paid and I am free to live now!”
As Christians we’re uniquely able to embrace this paradox of knowing we’re unworthy of God’s love and salvation, and at the same time experiencing God’s love and salvation without feeling guilty about it.