It is counter-intuitive, but nevertheless, there it is. We all, from time to time, take offense when grace is offered to us. We all, even more of the time, take offense when grace is offered to others. Two different circumstances, one reason to rule them both.
It is not, strictly speaking, receiving grace that offends us. Rather we take offense at the notion that we are in need of it. When it is offered, either by the God whom we offend daily, or another person that we offend less frequently, we recognize that to accept it is to acknowledge we have done wrong, that we have failed.
We don’t want grace, pity, charity because such means we cannot do what needs to be done on our own. And that hits right in our most vulnerable spot, our pride. We prefer to live in the most dangerous delusion, that we got this. We are not just waving off the lifeguard in the midst of our second drop below the surface; we wave off the Live Giver while dead at the bottom of the sea.
Why though do we resent the offering of grace to others? Such says nothing whatsoever about our own need or lack of need. Yet we grumble, complain, even respond in bitterness when we see others receive grace. Jesus even gave us the parable of the vineyard workers to show us this (see Matthew 20:1- 16).
The root of this, despite the different circumstances, is the same as above- it hits us in the pride. Here the issue isn’t our need to be self-sufficient, but our felt need to be treated as special, inviolable. When others receive grace it leaves us open to be mistreated. If people aren’t punished for treating others poorly, I will end up being treated poorly. And surely I’m too important, valuable, precious to have anyone get away with harming me.
The solution in both instances should not surprise us. What we need is humility. We need, in the first instance, to give up the barking at the moon lunacy of thinking we don’t need God’s grace. The pride that says, “I got this” is the equivalent, and just as embarrassing at the emperor’s pride in his new set of clothes. I don’t need a little grace. I need all the grace there is. I’m not dependent on God to get me through the last twenty yards of the marathon. I need Him to carry me.
When the unbeliever accuses us of using God as a crutch denounce such nonsense with vigor. A crutch? A crutch? Of what use is a crutch to a dead man? I don’t need a crutch. I need life itself, given to me by the Lord of Life.
As for the second circumstance, humility acknowledges that we are not special. We are not true special treatment of special protections. We are not the priceless china in the shop but the bull. We are not God, but God is. Though we can be and have been wronged, no wrong we have ever received is worthy to be compared to the daily wrong we do to our Redeemer. We have been forgiven much. Surely we should rejoice in forgiving others little.
The church is not the fellowship of those fighting over a small serving of grace. We are those celebrating being invited to feast upon that grace that covers not only us, but every one of our brothers and sisters, and all who are afar off. Let us acknowledge our need and proclaim His provision, putting pride on the run.