How a grateful leper forgives

                                       A little food for weekend thought:

     "The gospel of justifying faith means that while Christians are, in themselves still sinful and sinning, yet in Christ, in God's sight, they are accepted and righteous.  So we can say that we are more wicked than we ever dared believe, but more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope--at the very same time.  This creates a radical new dynamic for personal growth.  It means that the more you see your own flaws and sins, the more precious, electrifying, and amazing God's grace appears to you.  But on the other hand, the more aware you are of God's grace and acceptance in Christ, the more able you are to drop your denials and self-defenses and admit the true dimensions and character of your sin."
     Someone asked a probing question about dealing with our very real emotions of fear or anger or even hatred when someone has hurt or disappointed us.  Do we suppress our emotions and essentially pretend everything is lovely?  Do we stuff our emotions?  Do we lash out and release our emotions?   And how do we glorify God in these hard, challenging places?
     I'm clearly no theologian (understatement of the year), but this is right where we all live, isn't it?   How do we forgive the unforgivable or love the unloveable?  When I'm feeling wronged, or, what's far more difficult--when someone I love has been wronged-or when I'm just feeling irritated or discouraged, I've found there's only one sure solution--
     Cling to the cross.  Gaze at His grace.
     I love this quote by Tim Keller, because he so clearly expresses our strange, remarkable, and miraculous position--"more wicked than we ever dared believe, but more loved and accepted in Christ than we ever dared hope--at the very same time."  We fail to truly grasp our real position--how truly awful our (or my) sins can be and are--our (or my) ugly thoughts, our hateful tendency towards competition and comparison, our refusal to extend true mercy and compassion, our greediness and clench-fisted hold on possessions or people, our failure to speak out and defend the powerless... and on and on.
     And then super-imposed upon the extremity of my sin--is the infinite enormity of Christ's grace.  The perfect, sinless, Creator and Sustainer of the universe, saw me in all my ugliness and said, "Her, I'll die for her.  Father, give her My righteousness and I'll take her hideousness. Make her beautiful in Your sight and give Me her guilt and shame."
     That's the divine exchange.  And that's why A.W. Tozier can write that at the moment of salvation, "God through Christ turns rebels into worshippers."  Because when we glimpse, even if just for a moment, even if it's just a tiny peak of a glimpse, the cosmic enormity of the divine exchange--of all how much we've been forgiven and how infinite is His grace--then how can we not worship?  How can we not be overflowing with gratitude... and then how can we dare not forgive those who have wronged us--or those we love.
     We've who've been forgiven so infinitely much--how can we then not forgive so relatively little?
     Of course it's not easy.  But the more I focus on myself and my circumstances, the bigger and greater that mountain of my anger... or fear... or worry... or even hatred becomes.
     But the more I stare at Christ and the cross, the more He gives me true perspective.  Only in focusing upon the forgiving Christ on the cross can we forgive.  Only in gazing at the grace of Christ can we extend grace.
     Sometimes it means coming back to the cross again and again and again.... not just daily, but perhaps moment by moment.  And telling Him--we can't forgive, but He can through us.  We can't love--but He can through us.  We can't stop worrying and fretting--but He can through us.
     I've always loved the song, Jesus, Friend of Sinners, by Casting Crowns.  The words are so powerful and express all this so beautifully--

 Jesus, friend of sinners, the One who's writing in the sand
Made the righteous turn away and the stones fall from their hands
Help us to remember we are all the least of these
Let the memory of Your mercy bring Your people to their knees
Nobody knows what we're for only what we're against when we judge the wounded
What if we put down our signs, crossed over the lines and loved like You did.

Oh, Jesus, friend of sinners
Open our eyes to the world at the end of our pointing fingers
Let our hearts be led by mercy
Help us reach with open hearts and open doors
Oh Jesus, friend of sinners, break our hearts for what breaks Yours

You love every lost cause; You reach for the outcast
For the leper and the lame; they're the reason that You came
Lord I was that lost cause and I was the outcast
But You died for sinners just like me, a grateful leper at Your feet

      That's me, that's us--we are the lost cause.  We are the outcast.   We are the grateful lepers at His feet for whom Christ died.  O that we might see the infinite, indescribable enormity of what He has done for us.  Might the memory of His mercy and grace cause us to fall upon our faces--in joyful wonder and overwhelming gratitude... and then ask Him--in light of His grace, His love, His cross--to empower us to love as He loved.  To forgive as He forgave.  And to trust as He trusted.
     We can't do it--but He can.  This grateful leper just has to keep coming back to Him again and again.  And He has never turned me away.  
     To God be the glory.