Mike Browning

Tag: Forgiveness

  • Same (Unfair) Deal

    Same (Unfair) Deal

    It was unfair when we were on the receiving end too.

    Last week I wrote about how we tend to read ourselves into Bible stories as the good guy. Job, not the friends. The son who stayed, not the one who left. It’s a habit, and mostly it’s a wrong one. We’re usually standing closer to the other side than we’d like to admit.

    There’s a parable that puts this on full display, and it’s an uncomfortable one if you think about it.

    A landowner goes out at dawn and hires workers for his vineyard, agreeing on a day’s wage. He goes back out at nine, noon, three, even five, an hour before quitting time, and hires more, telling them he’ll pay what’s right. End of the day, he pays the five o’clock crew a full day’s wage. Then the nine o’clock crew. Then the ones who’d been out there since sunrise, sweating through the whole thing. Same amount. Every one of them.

    The all-day workers are furious. Not because they got paid less than promised, they got exactly what they agreed to. They’re furious because somebody else got the same deal for less work. The landowner’s answer is basically, it’s my money, I can be generous with it if I want, and what’s that to you?

    If you’ve already accepted Christ’s offer of forgiveness, it’s easy to look at someone who hasn’t yet and feel a little something when they finally do. Some version of, must be nice, they get everything after they were out there living however they wanted until an hour ago.

    But not too long ago, that was you. Doesn’t feel that way now, but it was.

    It’s not wrong to notice they didn’t earn what they got. Because they didn’t.

    But neither did you. You still don’t deserve it.

    That was the whole point of the deal in the first place. Christ is free to hand out grace to whoever He wants, on whatever timeline He wants, and none of us are in a position to file a complaint about the terms.

    If you’ve already accepted, congratulations. Now maybe quit keeping score on who got a better deal than you, and spend the energy instead trying, and mostly failing, to live like someone who’s actually been given what you now have.

    And if you haven’t accepted yet? It’s free for the asking. You don’t have to clean anything up first. Nothing you’ve done disqualifies you. And once you have it, nobody can take it back.

    And if you get the side eye treatment from some of us, don’t worry about it. You’ll probably be doing the same soon.

    It’s never too late.

    Until it is.

    P.S.- If you’d like to read through the Bible this year, you can join us at His Word Together.

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  • Furious That It Worked

    Furious That It Worked

    I guess Jonah at least deserves credit for doing what God said, even if he didn’t like the result.

    Jonah gets remembered for the fish. That’s the part everybody knows. Swallowed, three days, spit out on a beach.

    But the fish isn’t really the story. It’s barely the warm-up.

    God tells Jonah to go preach to Nineveh, a city full of Israel’s enemies, and tell them to repent or be destroyed. Jonah immediately heads the opposite direction. Books a ship going the other way across the sea.

    Not because he doubted God would do it. Because he knew God actually would forgive them if they listened. And these were his enemies, so he didn’t want that.

    Most of the time we picture the reluctant prophet as scared of failing, scared of being laughed at, scared the mission won’t work. Jonah ran because he knew it would work exactly as advertised.

    Storm, sailors throw him overboard, fish, three days, thrown back up on shore. He goes to Nineveh. Preaches the one line God gave him. The city repents immediately and completely, all the way up to the king.

    God relents. Doesn’t destroy the city.

    Jonah is furious.

    Sits down outside town and tells God flat out he’d rather die than watch this. Says he knew this would happen, that’s exactly why he ran in the first place. God is gracious and compassionate, and Jonah resents Him for it.

    God grows a plant to give Jonah some shade. Jonah likes the plant. Next day a worm kills it, the shade is gone, and Jonah is back to wanting to die, this time over a plant.

    God asks him a simple question. You’re upset about a plant you didn’t plant and didn’t grow. Shouldn’t I care about a city of more than a hundred thousand people?

    The book ends there. No resolution. No Jonah repenting and learning his lesson. Just God’s question hanging in the air.

    We understand Jonah better than we’d like to admit. We’re perfectly fine with mercy for ourselves. Less fine with it landing on the specific people we think don’t deserve it.

    You can want the right outcome and still be furious when you get it, if it benefits someone you’d rather see lose.

    Jonah did his job. Eventually. Preached the message. People who deserved judgment got mercy instead.

    He couldn’t stand it.

    What is your Nineveh?

    P.S.

    If you’d like to read through the Bible this year, you can join us at His Word Together.

    No commentary. No telling you what to think. Nothing to buy. Nothing fancy.

    Just steady time in the Word.

    Check it out here.

  • Thank God We Aren’t Like Those People

    Thank God We Aren’t Like Those People

    Except, we kind of are.

    There’s a parable in Luke where two guys go to the temple to pray.

    One is a Pharisee. Religious. Respected. Knows the rules and keeps most of them. Especially the ones where it’s visible.

    The other is a tax collector, which in that culture meant something closer to a known crook than an annoying IRS agent today. Tax collectors squeezed their own people for money and kept a cut. Nobody invited them to dinner.

    The Pharisee stands up front where people can see him and prays out loud. Thanks God that he isn’t like thieves, adulterers, or especially that he isn’t like the tax collector standing in the back. Mentions his fasting and tithing for good measure.

    The tax collector won’t even lift his eyes. Stands in the back, beats his chest, and says one line. God, have mercy on me. I’m a sinner.

    Jesus says the second guy went home justified. The first guy didn’t.

    That’s the whole story, but people manage to misread it in two different directions.

    One direction is feeling superior to the Pharisee. Easy to do. He’s an obvious villain, bragging about himself in church like that. We’d never.

    Except we do it constantly, just quieter. Comparing our parenting to the family down the street. Our marriage to the one that fell apart. Our finances to whoever’s worse off. It feels like gratitude. It’s actually scorekeeping, and the score only counts if you’re ahead.

    Reminds me of something I tell my wife. It’s not a contest, but if it was I’d be winning.

    The other direction is worse. Decide you’re basically the tax collector, beyond help, too far gone, might as well stop trying. That’s not humility either. That’s despair wearing humility’s clothes.

    The tax collector didn’t stay in the back forever feeling bad about himself. He said one true thing and asked for mercy. That was the whole prayer. No résumé. No bargaining. No project to clean himself up first.

    He didn’t even promise to change. He just asked for mercy. And he didn’t run through a litany of his faults either, he just said he was a sinner. God already knew the rest.

    That’s the part that’s actually hard to imitate. People are usually fine admitting they’re a mess in the abstract. The hard part is stopping there. Not following it with an excuse, a comparison, or a plan to fix yourself before you come back and ask again.

    Mercy doesn’t wait for the cleanup. It is the cleanup.

    Two guys walked into the temple. One left more impressed with himself than when he arrived. The other left forgiven.

    Worth noticing which one did less.

    P.S.

    If you’d like to read through the Bible this year, you can join us at His Word Together.

    No commentary. No telling you what to think. Nothing to buy. Nothing fancy.

    Just steady time in the Word.

    Check it out here.

  • God Forgives People You Don’t Want Him To

    God Forgives People You Don’t Want Him To

    Lucky for you.

    There’s a part of the gospel we don’t say out loud very often.

    Not because it’s unclear — it’s actually very clear — but because it makes us squirm a little.

    Here it is:

    God has (and will) forgive people you don’t want Him to.

    People you think deserve what’s coming to them.

    People you can’t stand.

    People who’ve made choices you would never make.

    People whose sins look worse to you than your own.

    We talk a lot about grace, but if we’re honest, what we really like is selective grace.

    Grace for people who sin in familiar ways. Grace for people who apologize the right way. Grace for people who fit our idea of “fixable.”

    But God doesn’t use our categories.

    He doesn’t sort humanity into “acceptable sinners” and “unacceptable sinners.”

    He doesn’t forgive based on how easy someone is to sympathize with. He doesn’t take polls or run background checks.

    If someone turns to Him, He forgives — cleanly, completely, without hesitation.

    Even tho they don’t immediately clean up 100% (like you).

    And sometimes, if we’re being honest, that irritates us.

    Because deep down, we think grace should be proportional. The bigger the sin, the bigger the penalty.

    The more damage someone caused, the longer they should sit in the penalty box before God lets them up.

    But that’s not how grace works.

    Grace isn’t earned. Grace isn’t calibrated. Grace isn’t a reward for good behavior.

    Grace is a gift — and it’s a gift God hands out more freely than we would.

    If that bothers us, there’s a reason:

    We’ve forgotten what we were forgiven of. Or we’ve minimized it. Or we’ve convinced ourselves that our sins were more understandable, more reasonable, more “human.”

    They weren’t.

    They just feel smaller because they’re ours.

    The truth is simple:

    The same grace that covers you will cover people you don’t like.

    And the same cross that saved you will save people you wouldn’t choose.

    That’s not a flaw in the gospel. That’s the whole point.

    And if God is that generous with them…
    He’s that generous with you, too.

    Lucky for all of us.

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  • There’s Always More Than Enough

    There’s Always More Than Enough

    No matter how much Jesus gives us, there’s more left over.

    On two separate occasions, Jesus fed a multitude of people with what seemed like a tiny amount of food.

    The first time, He fed a crowd of 5,000 at Bethsaida with five loaves of bread and two fish.

    Later on, He fed 4,000 in the Decapolis with seven loaves and a few small fish.

    I don’t see it pointed out often, but in both cases the Bible says the numbers only counted the men — not the women and children. We don’t know how many that added up to, but it could easily have been two or three times the size we usually picture.

    So twice, He fed thousands of people with basically nothing. And this wasn’t a symbolic snack — they ate until they were full.

    And afterward, there was more left over than they started with.

    Pretty neat trick(s), you have to admit.

    But I think that part — the more left over afterward — doesn’t get the attention it deserves.

    It’s not just a miracle about food. It’s a picture of how Jesus works, and how it’s different from how we work.

    The apostles looked at what they had and thought there was no way it could be enough. But it was. More than enough.

    When we look at our sin — or at the world’s — it’s easy to think there’s no way provision has been made to cover it all. The idea that one man’s death and resurrection thousands of years ago could be enough for everyone seems impossible.

    But it is.

    It’s more than enough. There’s more left over when He’s done than when He started.

    Thankfully.

    There’s enough for all of us. And if we ever need more, it’s still available.

    You may feel like you’ve done too much, for too long, and strayed too far to be forgiven. Not true.

    Or you may think you need to clean yourself up first before coming to Jesus. Also not true. (And it’s a good thing, because without Him, you can’t.)

    Jesus offers forgiveness and salvation to whoever asks for it.

    And after you get it, there’s still more left over for the next guy. Hard to beat that deal.

    If you’re reading this, it’s not too late.

    Ask Jesus Christ to be your personal Lord and Savior today.

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    PS – I’ve been saying recently it’s wise to keep a physical copy of the Bible.

    Reading the Bible won’t save you, only faith in Jesus does that. But it will help you understand God (and yourself), and can only lead you in the right direction.

    Reading or listening electronically is great—until the power or the connection goes out.

    Will that happen? Maybe not. Could it? Sure.

    It’s a risk you can remove easily and cheaply.

    You can buy one here on Amazon

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