January 19, 2011

• Grace, Like Rain

  written 01.16.2011

  I don't know what it is about the grace of God, but whenever I come across it in its pure state, it leaves me a wreck, and I am not ashamed to say it. Any other time, you will hear me say emphatically that "tears are weakness." Days like today, however, will find me weeping through the story of the slave-ship-owner-turned-clergyman-hymnwriter John Newton, who wrote the words of the ageless song, Amazing Grace. 

  Incidentally, I don't really believe my own statement, but it helps me not to look like a baby in chapel when watching youtube videos of that Ironman guy who carried his disabled kid through a 2.5 mile swim, a 112 mile cycling course, and a full length marathon. Because he asked. Or of that guy who was favored to win the gold in the Olympics and ended up tearing his hamstring partway through. He was writhing on the ground. His father ran out from the stands to help him. Instead of giving up, he finished the race, limping in pain the whole way.  Josh Groban was singing "You Lift Me Up" in the background. I'm pretty sure there were subliminal pictures of puppies drowning in a lake. Tears. Are. Weakness. 

  It's difficult for me to articulate what it is about Newton's story that strikes me. It may be that this hymn, the song that is recognized by millions, the song that has united battling foes for a precious 5 minutes, the song that is hummed over both the cradle and the grave, was written by a man who had the blood of thousands on his conscience. 

  

  He called himself a wretch. In today's society, that's not such a glamorous thought. In the Western, Postmodern, humanistic, egotistical world, we scoff at such denigrations.

  But I understand. I see who I am. I see who I could have been. I see how God has altered the course of my life from one destined to collision to one of hope and love and peace and joy. I see that even though I may not have sold and trafficked the lives of other human beings, that I am made of the same stuff as he. That I too am a liar and a thief, taking from God what was not mine and claiming to be His while taking back my allegiance again and again and again. 

  This is the grace that brought a wretch to glory. That elevated a man who might have died alone, remembering his demons, to one whose song of praise echoed for hundreds of years from thousands of lips and will be written about countless more times and will be remembered forever. The grace that was his is mine, and the grace that pours down like rain are the tears that will fall from those who see the Long Expected coming down from glory to bring us back up to it.  

  • 9:13 pm
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