Then Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, "If you continue in my word, you are truly my disciples; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." They answered him, "We are descendants of Abraham and have never been slaves to anyone. What do you mean by saying, ‘You will be made free’?" Jesus answered them, "Very truly, I tell you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not have a permanent place in the household; the son has a place there forever. So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.

Last week I told you about the anguished faith life of a great 20^th Century saint, Mother Teresa. In the book, "Mother Teresa: Come Be My Light," she confesses that she has lived with serious doubts about her faith. At times she has even wondered whether she has any faith at all.

Today we tell the story of another anguished believer, Martin Luther. What they had in common was the struggle, not the content of the struggle. She fretted over the absence of God while Martin fretted the graciousness of God. "How," he asked himself, "could he love and please God?"

Luther first attempted to love God by being religious. He did every religious thing he could think of – he prayed, he confessed his sins, he read scripture and he kept the holy days. None of it worked. The more he tried, the more unhappy he became. Later he discovered that he had it all backward. We don’t pray to earn God’s grace, but rather to give thanks for God’s grace. We help our neighbor not to impress God, but to thank God.

Luther also learned that he was mistaken about the relationship between sin and punishment. He was taught that we are punished for our sins. What he learned was that we are punished by our sins. We are not punished because we over-indulge; we are punished by the act of over-indulging. We are not punished because we have been unfaithful in relationships. The very act of unfaithfulness brings about its own punishment — loss of friendship, and trust.

God is not out to get us; God is out to save us.

In The Hammer of God, written by Bo Giertz, a Swedish bishop, Pastor Fridfeld was a strong preacher. Over and over again he called on his people to live a pure life that would please God. "If we struggle against sin God will love and accept us," he declared. His people seemed weary, but he saw no relationship between their weariness and his message.

One day the pastor was called to the bedside of Frans, a dying man, known for being deeply religious. Frans was on the border of consciousness. His mind wandered and suddenly he began to recite a litany of past errors and evils. He told of jealousy, revenge, self-righteousness, and pride. He swore the entire time he was talking. The pastor was alarmed. This was a good and faithful man. Where did all this rot come from? He could see that beneath the veneer of faith evil still dwelt in the heart of Frans.

Pastor Fridfeld also realized that he was very much like Frans. All of his efforts at being good and religious merely hid the dark side of his heart. How could a man who had such a nasty mouth, a man like Frans, be saved? Would it be on the basis of faith? If so, it would be on the basis of past faith, because he had no current faith. Consciousness had left him.

Then the daughter of Frans came and bent over her father lovingly. "Daddy," she said tenderly, "you are thinking about Jesus, are you not?" The old man shook his head sadly and said, "Lena, I can no longer think about anything, not even Jesus. But I know that Jesus is thinking about me."

Frans died in the arms of God not because of his sincerity, not because of his confession, and not because he went to church. He was saved because Jesus was thinking of him even when he was not able to think of Jesus. That is called Grace. It is free and cannot be earned. It is a gift.

In a slightly different form, this was Luther’s discovery that lead to the protestant reformation. When asked, "What must I do to be saved," he answered, "Nothing. Just be still. Keep quiet and listen for once in your life to what God, the creator and redeemer is saying to his world and to you in the death and resurrection of his son! Listen and believe!"

We have been taught that all good offers are conditional. "If you fulfill the required conditions then the promise will be fulfilled. If you work hard you will be successful. If you eat right and exercise you will be healthy."

There is an ounce of truth in these statements, but they all come with no guarantee. You can work hard and never reach your dreams. You can eat right and still get sick. "If-then" doesn’t always work.

Our life with God is not "if-then," but "because-therefore." Because Jesus died and rose, your sins are forgiven. Paul put it this way: And its’s clear enough, isn’t it, that we’re sinners, every one of us, in the same sinking boat with everyone else? Our involvement with God’s revelation doesn’t put us right with God. What it does is force us to face our complicity in everyone else’s sin. ...Since we’ve complied this long and sorry record as sinners (both us and them) and proved that we are utterly incapable of living the glorious lives God wills for us, God did it for us. Out of sheer generosity he put us in right standing with himself. A pure gift. He got us out of the mess we’re in and restored us to where he always wanted us to be. And he did it by means of Jesus Christ. (Romans 6:19-31)

I frequently hear people say things like this at funerals, "Well, I’ll tell you this, if anyone goes to heaven she’ll go. She was a saint." "If-then."

What Martin Luther discovered was that God had a better offer. "Old Jess is headed for heaven."

"Because he was a wonderful man?"

"Well, he could be wonderful, but then, of course, he could be a sonofagun, too. He could be mean spirited, and downright vindictive."

"Then, how can you be so sure that he is headed for heaven?"

"He has a great God, who is bigger than his sin." Because/therefore. Because Christ died, therefore Jess will live.

God is bigger than our mean-spiritedness, bigger than our vindictiveness. Grace is the biggest and the best thing we will ever know.

A woman who graduated from college several years earlier was in town not long ago. Somehow the conversation was about what she would have done differently in school. She said something like this.

"I have learned that grades are small and knowledge is big. I wish I would have spent more time learning, and less time trying to get good grades. I spent a lot of time passing tests rather than learning. I believe there was a way to do both, but I didn’t get it. When I interviewed no one seemed interested in my grade point. They wanted to see samples of my writing. They wanted to be sure I knew how to research. She concluded, "I wish I could live my life backward. I wish I could go to school after I had my job. If so, it would be different."

Would you like to live your life backward? Well, in one way you can. We already know that our end is with God. We know this not because we are great, but because God is great and good. Since we will end up with God, we can live our lives with full knowledge of how things end. Paul wrote to the people at Colossae — So, you who are chosen by God for this new life of love, dress in the wardrobe God picked out for you: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline. Be even-tempered, content with second place, quick to forgive an offense. And regardless of what else you put on, wear love. It is your basic all-purpose garment. Never be without it. (Colossians 3:12-14 The Message)

Like a person who has peeked at the end of the story, you don’t have to sweat all the little things. You know how it comes out. You will end in God’s hands. Do those things that are consistent with your next life. And know this -- you are certain of your future not because you are the greatest person who ever lived, but because you have the greatest God. Because Christ died, you will live. That is so important your church started a reformation so you could hear it. Amen ©

© 2007