I am a sinner.
I have fallen short so many times.
I’ve had a baby out-of-wedlock and sex outside of marriage? Yes.
I’ve done drugs and I drink alcohol and curse like a sailor.
I’ve lied and stolen and lied some more. Last time I lied? Just an hour ago.
I’ve been someone’s mistress and lookout person. I’ve been unfaithful. To God and man.
When life became too much and pills and alcohol were the only resolve, God rescued me before I could drown into a dark death.
And still, I sin again.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.
A sinner. Who, by biblical standards, should die a swift death. And spend eternity in hell.
But amazing grace. Grace that says, “you sin against me yet here I am, with open arms, waiting for you. Waiting for you with all your baggage and stuff. Come to me. I made you and accept you for just who you are.
And when who you are becomes destructive to self and others, I’ll gently tap your heart, awaken the spirit in you to draw closer to me. I will draw you nearer. Come closer so that you are not consumed by your humanness. There’s room for you here — yes, even with all your stuff.”
As we rest tonight after a weekend full of social, political, religious and theological banter, consider your own humanness. Consider the way our sacred texts or pulpits or beliefs should exclude us and our public or private sin from the table of grace.
God’s grace extends itself to us. It doesn’t pick or choose a sinner of a particular kind or genre; it gives no thought toward a sinner whose sin is weighted by the religious scales of rigid law. It’s just for a wretch like you and me.
And yet there’s always room at the table somehow. Even with all our sin and baggage and weighted hearts and ideals.
God and the heavenly host community squeeze in a little tighter to let us in at the table.
Room was made for us. Can we begin to make room at the table for others, too?
I think we can.
Peace + grace,