So here's the thing. I grew up believing from an early age that there was right and wrong, black and white. There was only one way to live that was right (that was largely controlled by the rules I think church instilled in me, and being the person that I am, if you persuade me with a logical argument 9 times out of 10 I will believe what you say). So I heard, I understood guidelines for living, and applied them to my life.
However...life has happened. Years have passed. The zeal of youth has waned and I have become a questioner. Let me qualify that - there are some things I don't question – categorically – I don't question the existence of God. That's a no brainer to me – been there during university – the darkest period of my life, and the search was the most illuminating.
But the issues I now question aren't so much about the existence of God, or the nature of pain, or any of those great theological debates. It's more a growing awareness of the immensity of grace – of why what we believe is called the good news. Any of you ever wondered why it was called the good news? Dunno about you, but I certainly have never run down the streets crying out “Have you heard? I've heard good news!” at the top of my lungs.
No people. We've missed the boat. We phone each other about sports scores, shopping deals, people's birthdays, births, competitions that have been won. But we don't tell people about the good news. Why? Because fundamentally, deep down, we don't believe it is good news.
I'm not saying I've figured it out. Yes, I pay lip service to the fact that I am not going to hell (perhaps I need a fresh revelation), but I think the life Christ died to give us is so much more than just eternal life after the here and now. I believe he died to make this life full of 'good news'. And I think part of that is his extravagantly rich Grace.
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