Topic : Grace

I was walking down life's pathway
Not so very long ago
When I looked up and saw a sign,
Heaven's Grocery Store.

I got a little closer
And the door swung open wide.
The next thing I knew
I was standing there inside.

I saw a host of angels.
They were standing everywhere.
One handed me a basket and said,
"My child, now shop with care.'

Everything a Christian needed
Was in that Grocery Store,
And what you couldn't carry out
You could come back next day for more.

Well, first I got some patience,
Love is in the same row.
Further down was understanding.
You need those everywhere you go.

I got a box or two of wisdom
And a bar or two of faith.
You couldn't miss the Holy Ghost
He was all over the place.

I didn't forget salvation
For salvation'that was free.
I wanted to get enough of that
To save both you and me.

There was meekness, longsuffering and gentleness
I saw these at a glance.
I knew I'd better get some.
I would never have a better chance.

I stopped to get some courage
To help me run life's race.
Then my basket was getting full
And I remembered I needed grace.

Then I started for the counter
To pay my grocery bill
I thought I had most everything
To do the Father's will.

And I saw prayer,
I just had to put that in.
I knew when I stepped outside the door,
I'd run right into sin.

Source unknown

Though humble and obscure below
My name is there in heaven, I know.”
Tis written by the hand of God—
‘Tis written with the Saviour’s blood.

‘Twas there before the day and night,
In beams of God’s unerring light.
By Jesus’ blood ‘twas crimson dyed
When He for me was crucified.

Who would erase it from that page,
Unspoiled by sin, undimmed by age,
Must Calvary’s marks from Him efface,
And change eternal truth and grace.

‘Tis there by Jesus’ worth alone,
For worth or credit have I none;
And nothing less than sin in Him
Can ever that inscription dim.

‘Tis ever there—O sweet the thought!
The space it fills by blood was bought.
‘Tis there by Grace, ‘tis there by right,
Unsullied in the Father’s sight.

Though I such love so feebly serve,
And daily worse than death deserve,
By oath, by blood, by priestly care,
My worthless name He keepeth there.

Let such as know no second birth
Labor to write their name on earth.
My joy is this, that Love Divine
On heaven’s scroll hath written mine.

- William Blane

Law of Life and Hope, quoted in The Berean Call, November, 1997

God’s unmerited favor. The Greek words for joy and grace are related; grace causes joy. In the Christian understanding, nothing brings joy like the good news of what God has done in Christ to bring us salvation. Salvation by grace is “through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works...” (Eph. 2:8-9). God’s grace also brings about qualities of conduct in the believer (2 Cor. 9:8; 12:9; Eph. 4:7). The word grace came to be used as a kind of prayer (“grace to you”) in Christian greetings at the beginning and end of some of the New Testament letters (2 Cor. 1:2; 13:14).

The Shaw Pocket Bible Handbook, Walter A. Elwell, Editor, (Harold Shaw Publ., Wheaton , IL; 1984), pp. 250-251.

What makes Christianity different from all the other religions of the world? Years ago that very question was discussed at a conference. Some of the participants argued that Christianity is unique in teaching that God became man. But someone objected, saying that other religions teach similar doctrines. What about the resurrection? No, it was argued, other faiths believe that the dead rise again. The discussion grew heated.

C. S. Lewis, a strong defender of Christianity, came in late, sat down, and asked, “What’s the rumpus about?” When he learned that it was a debate about the uniqueness of Christianity, he immediately commented, “:Oh, that’s easy. It’s grace.”

How right he was! The very heart of the gospel is the supreme truth that God accepts us with no conditions whatever when we put our trust in the atoning sacrifice of His incarnate Son. Although we are helplessly sinful, God in grace forgives us completely. It’s by His infinite grace that we are saved, not by moral character, works of righteousness, commandment-keeping, or churchgoing. When we do nothing else but accept God’s total pardon, we receive the guarantee of eternal life (Tim3:4-7).

Good news indeed. What a gospel! What a Savior! - VCG

Source unknown

Marvelous, infinite, matchless grace,
Freely bestowed on all who believe!
You who are longing to see His face,
Will you this moment His grace receive'

—Julia H. Johnston

From the hymn, Grace Greater Than Our Sin, by Julia H. Johnston and Daniel B. Towner, 1910, 1938.

• GRACE IS EVERYTHING FOR NOTHING
  TO THOSE WHO DON’T DESERVE ANYTHING

Our Daily Bread, Sept.-Nov. 1997, page for October 31

What is mercy? Just ask David McAllister, a blind, 77-year-old ex-convict.

Twenty-two years ago McAllister kidnapped 10-year-old Chris Carrier, shot him and left him for dead in the Florida Everglades. Although blinded in his left eye by the bullet, the boy survived. David McAllister escaped, and for more than two decades the case went unsolved. That is until last fall when a distraught McAllister, his frail body bedridden in a Miami nursing home, confessed to the crime.

After learning of the confession, Carrier, now 32, visited McAllister at his nursing home. But Chris did not go in anger or bitterness. Rather, he went to pray with his would-be murderer and share the good news of Jesus that had transformed his own life. You see, Chris Carrier lives on the side of mercy.

Wellington Boone, quoted in New Man, January/February 1997, p. 90

Grace is a difficult , perhaps impossible, concept to understand.

In seminary days I had a job working with underprivileged junior-high and high-school kids at the downtown YMCA. On what was then the outskirts of the city was a camp we used every Friday night when weather permitted. We would load a bus with forty to fifty kids, head for the camp, and enjoy an evening cookout and games. On special occasions we would sleep there overnight and return Saturday afternoon. Overnight camping trips were usually rewards given to those who had successfully passed certain requirements in our weekly Bible clubs. So the kids who stayed overnight after the others went home were rather special.

One Friday night—or, more accurately, early one Saturday morning—I awoke, startled by some unexplained noise. Soon I discovered that a few of my leaders had sneaked out of the dorm, gone down to the lake, launched one of the boats, and were having a great time far out from the shore. Not only was this against every rule in the book, but it was dangerous. When the kids knew I knew where they were, they came immediately into shore. Like dogs with tails between their legs, they meekly went back to bed, wondering what punishment awaited them in the morning.

For me, sleep was now impossible. Then night before I had talked to these Christian young people about forgiving one another. So as I paced the grounds in those early-morning hours deliberating their fate, my own words from the night before kept coming back to me . . . and back to me . . .and back to me.

If I don’t give them some punishment, I argued with myself, they will never be impressed with the seriousness of what they did. I have a responsibility to the YMCA to enforce their rules and punish the violators.

But the more I debated with myself, talked to the Lord, thought about a number of relevant Bible verses (I discovered again that night that you can prove almost anything with a Bible verse), the more Ephesians 4:32 grew larger and larger in my thinking: “And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.” But Lord, I can’t forgive them; they don’t deserve it. Neither did I. But Lord, I have to enforce the rules. I’m glad, Lord, You didn’t. But Lord, if I’m too kind, the kids will think I’m weak. I never thought You were weak, only loving. But Lord, first I’ll make them promise never to do something like this again, and then I’ll forgive them. It’s a good thing You didn’t require that of me, or I never would have been forgiven....just as God forgave me. How was that? No conditions or promises ahead of time. No works at the time. No remembrance afterward. But Lord, You’re God—You can do anything. “You’re My child,” He said. “Imitate Me.”

So with great reluctance and with very little faith, I told the Lord I would. And then, in the morning, I told the kids. “You did a terrible thing. It could have had disastrous consequences for yourselves, your families, for the YMCA, and for me. But I forgive you unconditionally and completely.” “You’re kidding,” they said. “There’s got to be a catch somewhere.” “No,” I insisted, “you are fully forgiven.” And then I told them what the Lord had been saying to me that night about His grace, and how I wanted them to have another taste of that grace.

I didn’t even make them do the cleaning up that day. I did it myself because I didn’t want them to think they could earn even a little bit of that forgiveness.The sequel? As long as those particular kids were in my clubs they were the epitome (as much as kids that age can be) of goodness, helpfulness, and usefulness. They never presumed on that grace.Grace is indeed a difficult, perhaps impossible, concept to understand.

If it was difficult for those kids to understand an act of grace that forgave one sin on one night, how much more difficult for us to comprehend God’s grace that forgives all our sins of every day and night, without preconditions, without works, and without remembrance? We can learn some important matters about grace from this experience.

First, grace is unmerited favor. As a concise definition of grace, this serves well. More elaborate definitions have their place; but simply stated, grace is unmerited favor. It is undeserved on the part of the recipient. It is unearned and unearnable. Those kids had no claim on my grace. They were in a state of total demerit. Anything I might do could not be in response to any merit they had (for they had none at that point) nor as a reward for anything they had done (they only deserved to be punished). My grace that night was pure unmerited favor.

Second, grace is not cheap. Grace is expensive. It is free to the recipient but costly to the donor. The only way one may say that grace is not very costly is if the particular benefit costs the donor very little. My forgiveness that night cost those kids nothing. It cost me a lot of agonizing and soul-searching, which is nothing in comparison with what grace cost our Lord. But to use the word cheap in the same breath with the grace of God in salvation seems almost blasphemous. It cost our Lord Jesus His life. Some may insult grace, reject it, trample on it, or disgrace it, but that does not lower its infinite value.

Third, it is not easy to believe someone who offers grace. Those kids were dumbfounded when I announced the verdict of grace. They could not believe what they were hearing. And why should they? From day one they were reared (and so are we all) in a merit system, in which acceptance is based on performance. “Do this and you will be rewarded. Fail to do this and you will be punished.” This kind of merit system permeates all of life and most religion. It is not easy to believe someone who says that he or she will do something good for us that we do not deserve.

Human works are like termites in God’s structure of grace. They start small, but if unchecked, they can bring down the entire structure. And what are such works? Anything I can do to gain any amount of merit, little or much. Water baptism could be one such work if I view it not as an important or even necessary result of being saved, but as a requisite to be saved. It is a work even if I insist that it is God who gives me the desire to want to be baptized that I might be saved.

The same is true for surrender. If surrender is something I must do as a part of believing, then it is a work, and grace has been diluted to the extent to which I actually do surrender.

Fourth, grace that is received changes one’s life and behavior. Those kids, though really not bad before that night, showed a number of changes in their lives. Their bond to me personally was much stronger. They followed me around like puppy dogs anxious to do whatever they could to please me. And they had new insight into the love of their Savior for them.

The Gospel is the good news of the grace of God to give forgiveness and eternal life. Let’s keep that Gospel so full of grace that there is no room for anything else to be added to dilute or pollute the true grace of God.

Charles C. Ryrie, So Great Salvation, (USA: Victor Books, a Division of Scripture Press, 1989), pp. 15-18

Lord, with glowing heart I’ll praise Thee
For the bliss Thy love bestows.
For the pardoning grace that saves me,
And the peace that from it flows.

Help, O God, my weak endeavors,
This dull soul to rapture raise;
Thou must light the flame, or never
Can my love be warmed to praise.

Praise, my soul, the God that sought thee,
Wretched wand’rer far astray;
Found thee lost, and kindly brought thee,
From the paths of death away.

Praise, with love’s devoutest feeling,
Him who saw thy guilt-born fear,
And, the light of hope revealing,
Bade the blood-stained Cross appear.

- Francis Scott Key

Two influential preachers, Charles Spurgeon and Joseph Parker, occupied pulpits in London during the 19th century. On one occasion, Parker commented about the poor condition of children admitted to Spurgeon’s orphanage. It was reported to Spurgeon, however, that Parker had criticized the orphanage itself. Being a man of fiery temperament, Spurgeon blasted Parker from his pulpit. That attack, printed in the newspaper, became the talk of the town. Londoners flocked to Parker’s church the next Sunday to hear his rebuttal. “I understand Dr. Spurgeon is not in his pulpit today, and this is the Sunday they use to take an offering for the orphanage,” Parker said. “I suggest we take a love offering here for the orphanage.” The crowd was delighted; ushers had to empty the collection plates three times. Later that week, there was a knock at Parker’s study. It was Spurgeon. “You know, Parker, you have practiced grace on me,” he said. “You have given me not what I deserved; you have given me what I needed.”

Source unknown

An interesting thing happened one day in a church where the great American businessman Samuel Colgate was a member. During an evangelistic campaign a prostitute came forward and confessed her sins. She was broken-hearted and wept openly. she asked God to save her soul and expressed a desire to join the church. "I'll gladly sit in some back corner,? she said. The preacher hesitated to call for a motion to accept her into membership, and for a few moments the silence was oppressive. Finally, a member stood up and suggested that action on her request be postponed. At that point Mr. Colgate arose and said with an undertone of sarcasm, "I guess we blundered when we prayed that the Lord would save sinners. We forgot to specify what kind. We'd better ask Him to forgive us for this oversight. The Holy Spirit has touched this woman and made her truly repentant, but apparently the Lord doesn't understand she isn't the type we want Him to rescue.? Many in the audience blushed with shame. They had been guilty of judging like the Pharisee in the temple who exclaimed self-righteously, "God, I thank You that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers? (Luke 18:11. Another motion was made and the woman was unanimously received into the fellowship. -H.G.G.

Our Daily Bread, September 14

John Newton said that when we get to heaven, there will be three wonders:

(1) who is there
(2) who is not there, and
(3) the fact that I’m there!

Source unknown

Charlie Hainline is a layman at Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. He is a man who radiates the love of Christ, and is serious about sharing his faith with others. One year, his goal was to lead 1650 people to faith in Christ (5 a day)!! Once, he was out witnessing with a couple of other folks, and though he didn’t share the gospel, he sat there and smiled broadly as a teammate did. When the teammate was finished and asked if the person would like to trust Christ and receive the gift of eternal life, the person replied, “If being a Christian would make me like him (point to Charlie), I want it!”

Charlie’s life wasn’t a bed of roses by any means. His daughter was kidnapped, killed, and her head was found floating in a canal. When the murderer of his daughter was caught and convicted, Charlie went to jail in order to witness to the man.

Source unknown

The conduct of God, who disposes all things kindly, is to put religion into the mind by reason, and into the heart by grace. But to will to put it into the mind and heart by force and threats is not to put religion there, but terror.

Pascal in Pensees, 185

Sin enslaved my many years,
And led me bound and blind;
Till at length a thousand fears
Came swarming o’er my mind.
“Where,” said I, in deep distress,
“Will these sinful pleasures end'
How shall I secure my peace,
And make the Lord my friend?”

Friends and ministers said much
The gospel to enforce;
But my blindness still was such,
I chose a legal course:
Much I fasted, watch’d and strove,
Scarce would shew my face abroad,
Fear’d almost to speak or move,
A stranger still to God.

Thus afraid to trust His grace,
Long time did I rebel;
Till despairing of my case,
Down at His feet I fell:
Then my stubborn heart He broke,
And subdued me to His sway;
By a simple word He spoke,
“Thy sins are done away.”

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York

Grace, triumphant in the throne,
Scorns a rival, reigns alone;
Come and bow beneath her sway!
Cast your idol works away!

Works of man, when made his plea,
Never shall accepted be;
Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm!)
Are the best he can perform.

Self, the god his soul adores,
Influences all his powers;
Jesus is a slighted name,
Self-advancement all his aim.

But when God the Judge shall come,
To pronounce the final doom,
Then for rocks and hills to hide
All his works and all his pride!

Still the boasting heart replies,
What the worthy and the wise,
Friends to temperance and peace,
Have not these a righteousness'

Banish every vain pretence
Built on human excellence;
Perish every thing in man
But the grace that never can.

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York

Paul’s teaching in Romans 11:6 is that grace and works are mutually exclusive. “If by grace, then is it no more of works: otherwise grace is not more grace. But if it be of works, then it is no more grace: otherwise work is no more work.” People may be trusting wholly in Christ, wholly in self, or partially in Christ and partially in self. Many unsaved who are related to the church fall into the latter category. However, that position is essentially the same as trusting fully in self. “Assuming that Christ has done his part sufficiently, if I am to be saved I must do my part acceptably. If on the other hand, I am lost, it must be because I did not do enough to win God’s favor.” Thus is the logic of partial trust in Christ and partial trust in self.

D James Kennedy, Evangelism Explosion, 3rd Edition, p. 65.

In a survey conducted by the Barna Research Group in 1992, nearly 1/3 of all born-again Christians stated that all good people will go to heaven, whether they have embraced Jesus Christ or not.

While 88% in a recent Barna poll believe Jesus Christ was a real person, what they believe about him differs sharply from scriptural teaching. 42% (even 1/4th of the “born again” Christians) believe that while on earth Jesus sinned just like other people. 61% believe the devil is just a symbol of evil, not a living being. And 54% think that if people are good enough, they will earn a place in heaven regardless of their religious beliefs.

Barna Research Group, Nov. 2, 1994.

Someone said the Lord is coming
And the time is a surprise.
Now I wanted to be all prepared
To meet Him in the skies.

I heard we must be specially dressed
If to Him we would draw nigh.
But I had all sorts of garments
And my heart with pride beat high.

Now the garment of my morality
That would surely get me in.
But when I looked it over
It was soiled and stained with sin.

Now the garment of self sacrifice
That couldn’t help but do
But when I saw how short it fell
It went into discard too.

Now the garment of personal goodness
Would pay any heavenly cost
I couldn’t even find that
Somehow it had gotten lost.

In my bright and shining humility
I’d go to be His bride.
My gaze fell upon it
It was tarnished with my pride.

One by one each was discarded
And my heart filled with despair.
I could never go to meet Him
I had nothing fit to wear.

As I wallowed there in gloom
He sent the words and music of a song
And it swelled out through the room.

Amazing grace—How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now was found
Was blind but now I see.

Thank God my eyes were opened
I gazed up in His face
Why the garment He would have me wear
He’d provided by His grace.

Gone was black despair and heartache
Nevermore I’d walk alone.
Dressed only in His righteousness
I’m ready when He calls His own.

Source unknown

Joy and peace were plentiful
And they were on the same shelf
Songs and praises were hanging everywhere
So I just helped myself.

Then I said to the angel
How much do I really owe
He smiled and said just take them
Everywhere you go.

But I said no—I want to pay.
How much do I really owe'
He said Jesus paid it all on Calvary
A long time ago.

Source unknown

Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, communion without confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace...is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble, it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer in The Cost of Discipleship, Christianity Today, February 7, 1994, p. 39

The radical gospel of grace as it is found throughout Scripture, has always had its critics. Jimmy Swaggart told me a few years ago that by trusting in God’s justifying and preserving grace, I would end up living a life of sin before long—and hus, lose my salvation and be consigned to Hell. Paul anticipated that reaction from the religious community of his own day after he said, “Where sin abounded, grace abounded much more”(Romans 5:20, NKJV). So he asked the question he expected us to ask: “Shall we continue in sin that grace may abound?” (6:1) Should we sin so that we can receive more grace? In other words,“ If people believed what you just said in Romans 5, Paul, wouldn’t they take advantage of the situation and live like the dickens, knowing they were ‘safe and secure from all alarm’?” That’s a fair question. But it reveals a basic misunderstanding of the nature of God’s saving grace. Paul’s response is unmistakable: “Certainly not? How shall we who died to sin live any longer in it?” (Romans 6:2, NKJV).

Someone confronted Martin Luther, upon the Reformer’s rediscovery of the biblical doctrine of justification, with the remark, “If this is true, a person could simply live as he pleased!” “Indeed!” answered Luther. “Now, what pleases you?”

Source unknown

Augustine was the great preacher of grace during the fourth and fifth centuries. Although his understanding of the doctrineof justification did not have the fine-tuned precision of the Reformers, Augustine’s response on this point was similar to Luther’s. He said that the doctrine of justification led to themaxim, “Love God and do as you please.” Because we have misunderstood one of the gospel’s most basic themes, Augustine’ statement looks to many like a license to indulge one’s sinful nature, but in reality it touches upon the motivation the Christian has for his actions. The person who has been justified by God’s grace has a new, higher, and nobler motivation for holiness than the shallow, hypocritical self-righteousness or fear that seems to motivate so may religious people today.

The Agony of Deceit by Michael Horton, Editor, 1990, Moody Press, pp. 143-144

Ancient paganism thought of each god as bound to his worshippers by self-interest because he depended on their service and gifts for his welfare. Modern paganism has at the back of its mind a similar feeling that God is somehow obligated to love and help us, even though we don’t deserve it. This was the feeling voiced by the French freethinker who died muttering, “God will forgive—that’s his job.” But this feeling is not well founded. The God of the Bible does not depend on his human creatures for his well-being (see Ps. 50:8-13; Acts 17:25), nor, now that we have sinned, is he bound to show us favor. We can only claim from his justice—and justice, for us, means certain condemnation.

God does not owe it to anyone to stop justice from taking its course. He is not obligated to pity and pardon; if he does so it is an act done, as we say, “of his own free will,” and nobody forces his hand. “It depends not upon man’s will or exertion, but upon God’s mercy” (Rom. 9:16). Grace is free because it is self-originated and proceeds from the One who was free not to be gracious. Only when one realizes that what decides each man’s destiny is whether or not God resolves to save him from his sins, and that this is a decision which God need not make in any single case, can one begin to grasp the biblical view of grace.

Your Father Loves You by James Packer, (Harold Shaw Publishers, 1986), page for May 4

Some years ago, I had a little school for young Indian men and women, who came to my home in Oakland, California, from the various tribes in northern Arizona. One of these was a Navajo young man of unusually keen intelligence. One Sunday evening, he went with me to our young people’s meeting. They were talking about the epistle to the Galatians, and the special subject was law and grace. They were not very clear about it, and finally one turned to the Indian and said, “I wonder whether our Indian friend has anything to say about this.”

He rose to his feet and said, “Well, my friends, I have been listening very carefully, because I am here to learn all I can in order to take it back to my people. I do not understand all that you are talking about, and I do not think you do yourselves. But concerning this law and grace business, let me see if I can make it clear. I think it is like this. When Mr. Ironside brought me from my home we took the longest railroad journey I ever took. We got out at Barstow, and there I saw the most beautiful railroad station and hotel I have ever seen. I walked all around and saw at one end a sign, ‘Do not spit here.’ I looked at that sign and then looked down at the ground and saw many had spitted there, and before I think what I am doing I have spitted myself. Isn’t that strange when the sign say, ‘Do not spit here’'

“I come to Oakland and go to the home of the lady who invited me to dinner today and I am in the nicest home I have been in. Such beautiful furniture and carpets, I hate to step on them. I sank into a comfortable chair, and the lady said, ‘Now, John, you sit there while I go out and see whether the maid has dinner ready.’ I look around at the beautiful pictures, at the grand piano, and I walk all around those rooms. I am looking for a sign; and the sign I am looking for is, ‘Do not spit here,’ but I look around those two beautiful drawing rooms, and cannot find a sign like this. I think ‘What a pity when this is such a beautiful home to have people spitting all over it—too bad they don’t put up a sign!’ So I look all over that carpet, but cannot find that anybody have spitted there. What a queer thing! Where the sign says, ‘Do not spit,’ a lot of people spitted. Where there was no sign at all, in that beautiful home, nobody spitted. Now I understand! That sign is law, but inside the home it is grace. They love their beautiful home, and they want to keep it clean. They do not need a sign to tell them so. I think that explains the law and grace business.”

As he sat down, a murmur of approval went round the room and the leader exclaimed, “I think that is the best illustration of law and grace I have ever heard.”

Illustrations of Bible Truth by H.A. Ironside, Moody Press, 1945, pp. 40-42.

• “God’s mercy ... goes before the unwilling to make him willing;
  it follows the willing to make his will effectual.”

Augustine of Hippo, in his Handbook on Faith, Hope, and Love. Signs of the Times, March, 1993, p. 7.

When Billy Graham was driving through a small southern town, he was stopped by a policeman and charged with speeding. Graham admitted his quilt, but was told by the officer that he would have to appear in court.

The judge asked, “Guilty, or not guilty? ”When Graham pleaded guilty, the judge replied, “That’ll be ten dollars—a dollar for every mile you went over the limit.”

Suddenly the judge recognized the famous minister. “You have violated the law,” he said. “The fine must be paid—but I am going to pay it for you.” He took a ten dollar bill from his own wallet, attached it to the ticket, and then took Graham out and bought him a steak dinner!

“That,” said Billy Graham, “is how God treats repentant sinners!”

Progress Magazine, December 14, 1992.

“Although out of pure grace God does not impute our sins to us, He nonetheless did not want to do this until complete and ample satisfaction of His law and His righteousness had been made. Since this was impossible for us, God ordained for us, in our place, One who took upon Himself all the punishment we deserve.

“He fulfilled the law for us. He averted the judgement of God from us and appeased God’s wrath. Grace, therefore, costs us nothing, but is cost Another much to get it for us. Grace was purchased with an incalculable, infinite treasure, the Son of God Himself.”

Martin Luther, Daily Walk, May 5, 1992

A story is told about Fiorello LaGuardia, who, when he was mayor of New York City during the worst days of the Great Depression and all of WWII, was called by adoring New Yorkers ‘the Little Flower’ because he was only five foot four and always wore a carnation in his lapel. He was a colorful character who used to ride the New York City fire trucks, raid speakeasies with the police department, take entire orphanages to baseball games, and whenever the New York newspapers were on strike, he would go on the radio and read the Sunday funnies to the kids.

One bitterly cold night in January of 1935, the mayor turned up at a night court that served the poorest ward of the city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge for the evening and took over the bench himself. Within a few minutes, a tattered old woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She told LaGuardia that her daughter’s husband had deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her two grandchildren were starving. But the shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused to drop the charges.

“It’s a real bad neighborhood, your Honor.” the man told the mayor. “She’s got to be punished to teach other people around here a lesson.” LaGuardia sighed. He turned to the woman and said “I’ve got to punish you. The law makes no exceptions—ten dollars or ten days in jail.” But even as he pronounced sentence, the mayor was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a bill and tossed it into his famous sombrero saying: “Here is the ten dollar fine which I now remit; and furthermore I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a town where a person has to steal bread so that her grandchildren can eat. Mr. Baliff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant.”

So the following day the New York City newspapers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered old lady who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren, fifty cents of that amount being contributed by the red-faced grocery store owner, while some seventy petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each of whom had just paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.

Brennan Manning, The Ragmuffin Gospel, Multnomah, 1990, pp. 91-2

• The Victorious Christ, The Sunday School Times Co, 1923, p. 40, “Grace” by W.H. Griffith Thomas

Longing to leave her poor Brazilian neighborhood, Christina wanted to see the world. Discontent with a home having only a pallet on the floor, a washbasin, and a wood-burning stove, she dreamed of a better life in the city. One morning she slipped away, breaking her mother’s heart. Knowing what life on the streets would be like for her young, attractive daughter, Maria hurriedly packed to go find her. On her way to the bus stop she entered a drugstore to get one last thing. Pictures. She sat in the photograph booth, closed the curtain, and spent all she could on pictures of herself. With her purse full of small black-and-white photos, she boarded the next bus to Rio de Janiero.

Maria knew Christina had no way of earning money. She also knew that her daughter was too stubborn to give up. When pride meets hunger, a human will do things that were before unthinkable. Knowing this, Maria began her search. Bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the reputation for street walkers or prostitutes. She went to them all. And at each place she left her picture—taped on a bathroom mirror, tacked to a hotel bulletin board, fastened to a corner phone booth. And on the back of each photo she wrote a note.

It wasn’t too long before both the money and the pictures ran out, and Maria had to go home. The weary mother wept as the bus began its long journey back to her small village. It was a few weeks later that young Christina descended the hotel stairs. Her young face was tired. Her brown eyes no longer danced with youth but spoke of pain and fear. Her laughter was broken. Her dream had become a nightmare. A thousand times over she had longed to trade these countless beds for her secure pallet. Yet the little village was, in too many ways, too far away. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes noticed a familiar face. She looked again, and there on the lobby mirror was a small picture of her mother. Christina’s eyes burned and her throat tightened as she walked across the room and removed the small photo. Written on the back was this compelling invitation. “Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn’t matter. Please come home.” She did.

Max Lucado, No Wonder They Call Him the Savior, Multnomah Press, 1986, pp. 158-9

Watching a trapeze show is breathtaking. We wonder at the dexterity and timing. We gasp at near-misses. In most cases, there is a net underneath. When they fall, they jump up and bounce back to the trapeze.

In Christ, we live on the trapeze. The whole world should be able to watch and say, “Look how they live, how they love one another. Look how well the husbands treat their wives. And aren’t they the best workers in the factories and offices, the best neighbors, the best students?” That is to live on the trapeze, being a show to the world.

What happens when we slip? The net is surely there. The blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ, has provided forgiveness for ALL our trespasses. Both the net and the ability to stay on the trapeze are works of God’s grace. Of course, we cannot be continually sleeping on the net. If that is the case, I doubt whether that person is a trapezist. - Juan Carlos Ortiz

Source unknown

Years ago, my father coached a team of eight-year-olds. He had a few excellent players, and some who just couldn’t get the hang of the game. Dad’s team didn’t win once all season. But in the last inning of the last game, his team was only down by a run. There was one boy who had never been able to hit the ball—or catch it. With two outs, it was his turn to bat. He surprised the world and got a single!

The next batter was the team slugger. Finally, Dad’s players might win a game. The slugger connected, and as the boy who hit the single ran to second, he saw the ball coming toward him. Not so certain of baseball’s rules, he caught it. Final out! Dad’s team lost!

Quickly, my father told his team to cheer. The boy beamed. It never occurred to him that he lost the game. All he knew was he had hit the ball and caught it—both for the first time.His parents later thanked my dad. Their child had never even gotten in a game before that season. We never told the boy exactly what happened. We didn’t want to ruin it for him. And till this day, I’m proud of what my father did that afternoon.

Quoted by Jeffrey Zaslow in Tell Me All About It, 1990

English raconteur T. H. White recalls in the BOOK OF MERLYN a boyhood experience: “My father made me a wooden castle big enough to get into, and he fixed real pistol barrels beneath its battlements to fire a salute on my birthday, but made me sit in front the first night . . . to receive the salute, and I, believing I was to be shot, cried,” How many times have we, too, misinterpreted the ambiguity of life and though ourselves to be “shot” when delight was intended? One translation of Psalm 94:19 read, “In the middle of all my troubles, you roll me over with rollicking delight.” The psalmist is right; God’s festive gaiety is somehow to be discerned in the midst of our own troubled fears. God often plays rough before breaking into laughter, and only a bold and rowdy playfulness can draw the whole of what we are to such a God. Yet, we’re not always able to grasp that truth. Ever expecting to be shot, we are often dumbfounded by a grace we can’t conceive.

Source unknown

Charles Spurgeon and Joseph Parker both had churches in London in the 19th century. On one occasion, Parker commented on the poor condition of children admitted to Spurgeon’s orphanage. It was reported to Spurgeon however, that Parker had criticized the orphanage itself.

Spurgeon blasted Parker the next week from the pulpit. The attack was printed in the newspapers and became the talk of the town. People flocked to Parker’s church the next Sunday to hear his rebuttal.

“I understand Dr. Spurgeon is not in his pulpit today, and this is the Sunday they use to take an offering for the orphanage. I suggest we take a love offering here instead.” The crowd was delighted. The ushers had to empty the collection plates three times.

Later that week there was a knock at Parker’s study. It was Spurgeon. “You know Parker, you have practiced grace on me. You have given me not what I deserved, you have given me what I needed.

Moody Monthly, Dec., 1983, p. 81

A husband and wife didn’t really love each other. The man was very demanding, so much so that he prepared a list of rules and regulations for his wife to follow. He insisted that she read them over every day and obey them to the letter. Among other things, his “do’s and don’ts” indicated such details as what time she had to get up in the morning, when his breakfast should be served, and how the housework should be done.

After several long years, the husband died. As time passed, the woman fell in love with another man, one who dearly loved her. Soon they were married. This husband did everything he could to make his new wife happy, continually showering her with tokens of his appreciation. One day as she was cleaning house, she found tucked away in a drawer the list of commands her first husband had drawn up for her. As she looked it over, it dawned on her that even though her present husband hadn’t given her any kind of list, she was doing everything her first husband’s list required anyway. She realized she was so devoted to this man that her deepest desire was to please him out of love, not obligation.

Source unknown