The Grace Awakening

by Charles R Swindoll

After a long afternoon of folding about two hundred papers, throwing my route, and returning toward home on my bike, I remember coming to the backyard of a large lawn at the corner across the street from our house. I thought to myself, I'm tired . . . no need to go all the way down to the end of the street and around this big yard. I'll just cut across and be home in a jiffy. It was a quick-and-easy shortcut. The first time I did that I entertained a little twinge of guilt as I rode my bike across that nice, plush grass. You need to understand, this was a beautiful yard. To make matters worse, our neighbor was very particular about it. I had watched him manicure it week after week. Still, I figured it wouldn't hurt just this once. Late the next afternoon I came tooling down the same street, thinking, / wonder if I ought to use that same shortcut? I did . . . with less guilt than the first time. Theoretically, something told me I shouldn't; but practically, I rationalized around the wrong.

  The Free Gift

  In less than two weeks my bicycle tires had begun to wear a narrow path across the yard. By then, I knew in my heart I really should be going down and around the corner, but I didn't. I just shoved all those guilt feelings down out of sight.

  By the end of the third week, a small but very obvious sign appeared near the sidewalk, blocking the path I had made. It read: "Keep Off the Grass—No Bikes." Everything but my name was on the sign! I confess, I ignored it; I went around the sign and rode right on over my path, glancing at the sign as I rode by. Admittedly, I felt worse! Why? The sign identified my sin which, in turn, intensified my guilt. But what is most interesting, the sign didn't stop me from going across the yard. As a matter of fact, it held a strange fascination. It somehow prodded me on into further wrong.

  It's like a "Wet Paint" sign. I have touched more wet paint just because somebody put a sign there, haven't you? I've thought that if they just wouldn't identify it as wet, I wouldn't touch it. But when it says "Do Not Touch," I have to touch it. Something inside me forces my fingers onto wet paint. It's called sinful depravity. Signs don't help a bit.

  One of my close friends told me about a trip he took to San Francisco, during which time he saw a most unusual sign. It read "Try to Keep Off the Grass." My point? When you see a sign, the sign has no power whatsoever to make you obey. It certainly identifies the sin in us, and it intensifies the guilt when we ignore it, but it offers no power to restrain us.

  And so it is with the Law. The Law came and in bold letters etched by the finger of God it read, "This is holiness! Honor My Name by keeping My Law!" But the fact is, nobody could keep it, which explains the statement in Romans 5:20 that says "sin increased." The Law arouses sin but never arrests it. So how can the tailspin stop? What hope is there? The answer is found in the same verse: "... but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more." Isn't that great! Grace overshadowed sin, it outranked it and thereby brought hope.

  Let me amplify the scriptural statement even more. Where

  The Free Gift

  sin overflowed, grace flooded in. Where sin measurably increased, grace immeasurably increased. Where sin was finite, grace was infinite. Where sin was colossal, grace was super-colossal. Where sin abounds, grace superabounds. The sin identified by the Law in no way stopped the flow of the grace of God. Jesus' death on the cross was the sufficient payment for sin, putting grace into action that was not simply adequate but abundant.

  Augustus Toplady wrote it this way:

  The terrors of Law and of God

  with me can have nothing to do; My Savior's obedience in blood

  hide all my transgressions from view. 4

  EXPLAINING: GRACE FOR THE SINFUL

  For the next few moments, graze slowly over this paragraph of truth recorded by Paul in the letter to the Ephesians. Take your time. Don't hurry.

  And you were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, of the spirit that is now working in the sons of disobedience. Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest. But God, being rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our transgressions, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), and raised us up with Him, and seated us with Him in the heavenly places, in Christ Jesus, in order that in the ages to come He might show the surpassing riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, that no one should boast. (Eph. 2:1-9)

  The Free Gift

  Pay close attention to ten single-syllable words, "by grace . . . through faith . . . it is the gift of God."

  One of my greatest anticipations is some glorious day being in a place where there will be no boasting, no name-dropping, no selfishness. Guess where it will be? Heaven. There will be no spiritual-sounding testimonies that call attention to somebody's supercolossal achievements. None of that! Everybody will have written across his or her life the word "Grace."

  "How did you get up here?"

  "Grace!"

  "What made it possible?"

  "Grace."

  "What's your name?"

  "Grace." There will be more graces up there than any other name. Everywhere, Grace, Grace, Gracel

  When I was in seminary, one fellow who struggled with academics—I mean really struggled—was grateful just to get through school. I can still remember going to the mail room where everybody got their tests back. Invariably, there would be a handful of guys in the corner, asking, "What did you get on Number 4?"

  "Well, I got so and so."

  "Really? I wrote the same thing and he counted me wrong on 4."

  But one dear guy never did any of that nonsensical comparison stuff. He would quietly open his box, pull out his test booklet, and before he ever looked at his grade, he wrote in big bold letters across the front of the test "G-R-A-C-E." If he did poorly: "Grace." If he did well: "Grace!" If he passed, that was sufficient: "Grace!" I learned a valuable lesson from my friend. That's all any of us have to claim.

  Nothing in my hands I bring, Simply to Thy Cross I cling. 5

  The Free Gift

  And when grace is our only claim, who gets the glory? The One who went to the Cross.

  Now for the big question: Can you understand why the grace killers would attack this great truth? Of course! It cuts the heart out of do-it-yourself-and-get-the-glory religion. As they did in Luther's day, they appear in every generation with convincing arguments, saying, "You know, you have to try real hard." Or, "You need to give up such and such." Or, "You need to start doing so and so." Or, "You must prove the sincerity of your faith." Or, "Before God can do this in your life, you must earn it by doing such and such." Forget it! God, in grace, offers you the free gift of forgiveness. All you can do is take it. Once you take it, you will be given the power to give up, to put on, to take off, to quit, to start—whatever. But don't confuse the issue of salvation. It is yours strictly on the basis of God's free gift. In spite of all the stuff you may hear to the contrary, the emphasis is not on what we do for God; instead, it is on what God has done for us.

  Some time ago, while digging deeply into this subject of God's amazing grace, I happened upon a piece by Dorothea Day, in which she answers Henley's "Invictus" with words that cut to the heart of his humanistic philosophy. She calls it "My Captain."

  MY CAPTAIN

  Out of the light that dazzles me, Bright as the sun from pole to pole,

  I thank the God I know to be For Christ the conqueror of my soul.

  Since His the sway of circumstance, I would not wince nor cry aloud.

  Under that rule which men call chance My head with joy is humbly bowed.

  The Free Gift

  Beyond this place of sin and tears That life with Him! And His the aid,

  Despite the menace of the y
ears, Keeps, and shall keep me, unafraid.

  I have no fear, though strait the gate, He cleared from punishment the scroll.

  Christ is the Master of my fate, Christ is the Captain of my soul. 6

  Can you honestly say that Christ is the Master of your fate, the Captain of your soul? Trust me, His name is the only name that will take you from earth to heaven when you die. And it won't be your achievements or your fame or your fortune that will get you there. You will be granted entrance because you accepted the free gift of eternal life—nothing more, nothing less, nothing else.

  There is one and only one password for entering heaven: Grace.

  3

  Isn't Grace Risky?

  *

  B

  y now some of you may be thinking, The reason you are emphasizing grace so much is because you're from California.

  That kind of comment always makes me smile inside. Being from California means you have to tolerate the looks and comments from those who think all Californians are like the stereotype image—sun-tanned surfers who sport a casual, carefree look, think shallow thoughts, and operate on a rather relaxed mentality. Which, when interpreted, means Californians live near the edge of extremes and conduct themselves in a questionable lifestyle. As my sister Luci and I were discussing this recently, she laughed and added, "Just living in California means we live on the fault line in more ways than one." Too bad, but I suppose it comes with the territory (pun intended).

  Not too long ago I received a strongly critical letter from one of my radio listeners. Among several things the lady unloaded on me, she had a bone to pick about my family's picture that appears on the back of the jacket of one of my books. We were all there—kids, grandkids, our dog Sah Sha—the whole tribe. She said that she didn't like it, that we all looked "so Californian. " And then she added, "Even your dog looks Californian!" What are we supposed to look like, Latvian! I mean, can Sah Sha help it if her thick coat of fur is snow white? It's pretty difficult to find a Samoyed puppy with black or red fur these days.

  Isn't Grace Risky?

  At the risk of sounding a lot like former President Richard Nixon, / want to make something perfectly clear: I believed in the grace of God before I ever stepped foot into the state of California. I was, in fact, reared in a family that believed in grace. I studied at a seminary that upheld grace. I have loved and taught the importance of living by grace in every place I have lived—Texas, the Orient, New England, and now on the West Coast. It is a message that is welcomed because it fits any geographical location: the Midwest, the Deep South, the great Northwest, the sun-drenched Southwest, the islands, the Third World, anywhere. Everywhere I have even visited I have observed one common denominator: Most people yearn to be free. They hate living under bondage. They want liberty, yet many have no idea where or how to find it. There is nothing like an accurate understanding of God's matchless grace to help make that happen. One of my joys in life is doing just that.

  But isn't it risky? Won't some people take it to an extreme? In California—or anywhere—doesn't a minister run the risk that some in his flock may take unfair liberties if he presents the message of grace with the same gusto that I'm emphasizing in this book? Couldn't an awakening of grace lead to an abusing of grace?

  Before I answer those questions, I invite you to travel with me across the Atlantic Ocean. Of all the countries in the world, England has to be considered among the most understated. In my travels I have observed that very little is flaunted in the British Isles. And when it comes to Christianity, evangelical Christianity that is, perhaps it is as conservative there as it is anywhere around the globe. And to go one step further, few evangelical British ministers would qualify as being more conservative than the late Martyn Lloyd-Jones, pastor of Westminster Chapel for decades. As a staunch Calvinist of the Puritan school of thought Dr. Lloyd-Jones was a biblicist of the first order. His expositions represent a conservative position to the ultimate degree. I mention all that so you will understand that this man I am about to quote was one who would be the

  Isn't Grace Risky?

  farthest removed from the popular (albeit erroneous) stereotype of a Californian mentality.

  Twelve years before his retirement and until the day he completed his ministry, the man taught the book of Romans from the historic Westminster Chapel pulpit. His expositions would be considered tedious by some, but no one could ever say they were casual or loose. And yet, in no uncertain terms Martyn Lloyd-Jones (of all people!) states that preaching grace is not only risky, but the fact that some take it to an unwise extreme is proof that a minister is indeed preaching the true grace of God.

  Hold on to your surfboards as you read his remarks concerning Paul's question at the beginning of Romans 6: ". . . Are we to continue in sin that grace may increase?"

  . . . If it is true that where sin abounded grace has much more abounded, well then, 'shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound yet further?'

  First of all let me make a comment, to me a very important and vital comment. The true preaching of the gospel of salvation by grace alone always leads to the possibility of this charge being brought against it. There is no better test as to whether a man is really preaching the New Testament gospel of salvation than this, that some people might misunderstand it and misinterpret it to mean that it really amounts to this, that because you are saved by grace alone it does not matter at all what you do; you can go on sinning as much as you like because it will redound all the more to the glory of grace. That is a very good test of gospel preaching. If my preaching and presentation of the gospel of salvation does not expose it to that misunderstanding, then it is not the gospel. Let me show you what I mean.

  If a man preaches justification by works, no one would ever raise this question. If a man's preaching is, 'If you want to be Christians, and if you want to go to heaven, you must stop committing sins, you must take up good works, and if you do so regularly and constantly, and do not fail to keep on at it, you will make yourselves Christians, you will reconcile yourselves to God, and you will go to heaven'. Obviously a man who

  Isn't Grace Risky?

  preaches in that strain would never be liable to this misunderstanding. Nobody would say to such a man, 'Shall we continue in sin, that grace may abound?', because the man's whole emphasis is just this, that if you go on sinning you are certain to be damned, and only if you stop sinning can you save yourselves. So that misunderstanding could never arise. . . .

  . . . Nobody has ever brought this charge against the Church of Rome, but it was brought frequently against Martin Luther; indeed that was precisely what the Church of Rome said about the preaching of Martin Luther. They said, 'This man who was a priest has changed the doctrine in order to justify his own marriage and his own lust', and so on. 'This man', they said, 'is an antinomian; and that is heresy.' That is the very charge they brought against him. It was also brought against George Whitefield two hundred years ago. It is the charge that formal dead Christianity—if there is such a thing—has always brought against this startling, staggering message, that God 'justifies the ungodly'. . . .

  That is my comment; and it is a very important comment for preachers. I would say to all preachers: If your preaching of salvation has not been misunderstood in that way, then you had better examine your sermons again, and you had better make sure that you really are preaching the salvation that is offered in the New Testament to the ungodly, to the sinner, to those who are dead in trespasses and sins, to those who are enemies of God. There is this kind of dangerous element about the true presentation of the doctrine of salvation. 1

  To Martyn Lloyd-Jones grace was not only risky, it was downright dangerous. He was clearly convinced it could be easily misunderstood. Meaning what? Well, some people will take advantage of it. They will misrepresent it. They will go to such an extreme that they will promote the erroneous idea that you can go on sinning as much as you like. To all fellow ministers I must add my voice to that of Martyn Lloyd-Jones
: If you claim to be a messenger of grace, if you think you are really preaching grace, yet no one is taking advantage of it, maybe you haven't preached it hard enough or strong enough. I can

  Isn't Grace Risky?

  assure you of this: Grace-killing ministers will never have that charge brought against them. They make sure of that!

  THE REALITY OF THE RISK

  All this brings me to the reality of the risk. I ask again, is grace risky? You bet your life it is. There is great risk in the book I am writing. I am well aware that this issue of grace is indeed controversial, especially when I am calling for a new awakening to the freedom Christians have in Christ. A few will take what I write and go crazy with it. Others will misread what I write, and misquote me, misunderstand me, and charge me with caring little about the holiness of God because (they will say) I give people the freedom to sin. On the other hand, some in the camp of carnality will thank me for relieving their guilt, because in their misunderstanding they now think it is okay for them to continue in their loose and carefree lifestyle. I wish these things would not occur, but that is the chance I'm willing to take by holding nothing back in order that the full message of grace be set forth. Yes, grace that is presented in all its charm and beauty is risky. It brings grace abusers as well as grace killers out from under the rocks!

  Statement of Clarification

  Let's return to a verse of Scripture we looked at in the previous chapter, Romans 5:1: "Therefore having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ."

  In order for anyone to stand securely and be at peace before a holy and just God, that person must be righteous. Hence, our need for justification. Remember the definition of justification? It is the sovereign act of God whereby He declares righteous the believing sinner while still in his sinning state. It doesn't mean that the believing sinner stops sinning. It doesn't