— 1 John 1:9

A pastor I know tells of a three-year-old boy who snuck into his older sister’s room while she was at school and devoured a chocolate teddy bear she had gotten in a gift exchange. The boy’s mother caught him red-handed, and he began to sob, knowing he would have to tell his sister what he had done. The afternoon was torture as he waited for her to get home. As she walked in, the boy ran to meet her, a torrent of tears bursting from the dam of his guilt. “Sally, I’m so sorry,” he confessed. “I ate your teddy bear!” Seeing his sincere repentance and shame, his big sister took him in her arms, kissed him, and said, “It’s okay, Johnny. I will love you anyway and always.” Though still crying, the boy began to laugh for joy, and he hugged his sister with all his strength.

This is a wonderful picture of every Christian who rightly perceives the nature of God’s grace. When we face the reality and seriousness of our sin, we are rightly broken to the point of tears. This degree of desperation only makes our joy more deep when we recognize that God is willing to say, “Do not despair, child; I will still love you anyway and always.”

The love and gratitude that such a gracious pardon generates become the motives for embracing our Lord and his purposes with all our strength. Our thanksgiving for spiritual deliverance powerfully moves us to honor Christ with our lives. The joy that beacons through our tears of repentance moves us to new and more empowered obedience. In such renewed service we discover the truth of the biblical principle that “the joy of the Lord is our strength” (Neh. 8:10).

Too many Christians do not understand this and get mired in an unrelenting slavery to fear of God’s disapproval. Because God accepts us on the basis of his unmerited pardon rather than on the basis of our earning his affection or compensating for our guilt, we are enabled to serve him with an unrestrained childlike love that is a joyful response to his care.

When we truly perceive the greatness of the heart that pardons us, then our hearts begin to beat in harmony with that heart. Honoring our Lord becomes the joy of our lives, and love for him becomes the power that fuels that joy.

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

— Luke 17:11–19

As we have seen, our good deeds do not move God to love us and should not be pursued primarily for our own gain. But if God’s love for us depends on grace alone, why should we bother to do good works at all? The historic Heidelberg Catechism answers this question beautifully: “So that in all our living we may show that we are thankful to God for what he has done for us, and so that he may be praised through us.”

This is precisely the motivation of the thankful leper. He turns from the self-absorption of his group because of his compelling desire to express his gratitude to Jesus, and Jesus commends his action. What should move us to serve God, therefore, is delight in expressing thanksgiving to him for his grace.

If we honor God primarily for our own profit, we will turn from him when obedience offers no apparent benefit to us. What keeps our motives holy before God is the profound conviction that obeying God will merit us nothing. This is why Jesus says that when we have done all that we should we are still unprofitable servants (see Luke 17:7–10). When we understand this, we see that the only reason to do anything for God is out of love for him.

There is no more powerful motivator for the human heart than love. It is love that compels a parent to run back into a burning building to save his or her child. And it is love inspired by the mercy of God in Christ that most powerfully and persistently compels us to obey God when there is no apparent earthly gain.

When we grasp how great is God’s love for us, most fully revealed at the cross, then our hearts long to please him with works that fulfill his loving purposes—even when those purposes may be obscure to human eyes. We do not expect that our efforts will earn our Savior’s love or repay his sacrifice, but rather, in thankful devotion we desire to do whatever brings him delight in heaven and glory throughout the earth.

I pray that the Lord would so fill our hearts with love for him that we cannot help but cry out in joyful thanksgiving for his grace. May he use us to draw many others into joyful service as well.

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

— Luke 17:11–19

We may not realize it, but the grateful leper in this passage risks much by returning to thank Jesus. His miraculous cure has not yet been certified by the priests, and, unlike the other lepers in the group, he is a Samaritan, a race despised by the Jews. The danger is that Jesus, the Jewish holy man who had just healed him, will realize this and undo the cure. That the leper would risk such a fate to pause and thank his benefactor speaks volumes about his motivation.

Implicit here is the message that what we do for God cannot make him our debtor and should never be done primarily for our own gain. If that is our motive we are really serving ourselves not God. Too many Christians serve the Lord only to get favors from him or to keep the “ogre in the sky” off their backs. This is nothing more than sanctified selfishness. It is actually dishonoring to God, who considers the motives of our hearts as well as our deeds of service.

Suppose, for example, that I give flowers to my wife to honor her and she says, “Thank you, Sweetheart! Why did you give me these flowers?” If I answer, “Mostly because I want favors or forgiveness from you in return,” then I would not be surprised if her smile vanished quickly. While there may be wonderful benefits for me and our marriage in honoring my wife, my primary motive for doing so should not be my own gain. She would certainly recognize the selfishness of my actions even if I do not.

God is no less astute than my wife. He knows whether my obedience is motivated by his honor or my gain. This does not mean that I cannot desire to be blessed by my service to God—in fact, he promises to bless my obedience according to his purposes—but gaining his blessings cannot be the driving force behind my service.
God’s blessings are the oil that helps the machinery of obedience operate, and love for God, gratitude for his gifts, and a desire for his glory are the pistons and wheels.

May we, like the thankful leper, serve and honor our God not to gain favor for ourselves, but out of sincere gratitude for what he has done for us in Christ, who alone deserves all praise and glory!

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

— Luke 17:11–19

I have friends whose teenage son rebelled against them and against God. For years there were protests of innocence for unacceptable behavior and innumerable promises to “straighten up.” But each promise was eventually broken. The mother’s heart grew hard against her child. She did not know if she loved him anymore. After one particularly bad episode, unable to listen to his excuses, she turned her back on him. The boy’s eyes fell on a photo of himself and his mother during happier days. He wept as he pointed to the photo and said, “Mom, there is such hope in your eyes in this picture. I’m sorry I dashed all your hopes. Please forgive me.”

In that instant the mother’s hardness broke and she embraced her repentant son with renewed love. She did not delude herself that there would be no more troubles, but she was moved by her son’s statement of absolute desperation. The Bible tells us that this kind of desperation is what moves God also.

God’s heart is moved not when we protest our innocence by pointing to our (inadequate) good works, nor when we promise that we will do better in the future. Though there is no reason for God to love us, yet he does. This is the nature of grace that we must treasure to know the joy that God wants for our lives. Until we recognize this and acknowledge our spiritual need, we have no good news to tell others or ourselves. How could it be good news that God waits to love us until we reach an unattainable standard of righteousness, or that he makes “filthy rags” meritorious?

Those who cry out in desperation have more hope of moving God’s heart than any who would trophy their own righteousness before him. Those who face the hopelessness of their spiritual condition apart from God’s mercy are nearer to experiencing his grace than those who pride themselves on their goodness.

As with the mother whose heart melted at her son’s repentant cry, neither past failing nor future weakness will dissuade our Savior from showing mercy to us when we honestly acknowledge our need for his grace. And just as Jesus responded compassionately to the lepers’ desperate cry for help in Luke 17, so he responds compassionately to everyone who calls out to him with sincere repentance, “Jesus, have mercy on me!”

This material is adapted from chapter1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

Despite the teaching of Scripture, I am at times no less troubled than Christ’s disciples were with God’s determination to resist human efforts to purchase his love. I want to believe that my obedience obligates God to bless the organizations I serve, the family I love, and the career in which I strive. Yet such reasoning abandons me when I compare my righteousness to Christ’s standards and ask, “Have I really caused no sin, confronted others’ sin, and forgiven any sin?” When I face the inadequacy of my works to merit God’s favor, then I recognize that I must depend on his goodness and not on mine.

Yet this fact should not cause us to think that God never desires or blesses our goodness. Walking in God’s ways is itself a blessing (Ps. 1; Matt. 5:3–10). Being faithful to one’s spouse, for example, brings integrity to a marriage. Speaking honestly can enhance one’s reputation and help secure faltering relationships. Honoring one’s parents develops good character and protects from harm. Still, no degree of human goodness will lock God into a path of blessing according to our choosing.

God promises to bless our obedience by using it for his purposes—and his ultimate purpose, of course, is to make us more and more like Jesus in faith and character (Rom. 8:28–29). Our ultimate need to trust in things eternal and not earthly is served as we experience undeserved earthly blessing. But this need is also refined in the difficulties we face that lead us to greater dependence on, and satisfaction in, God alone (Ps. 73:26; 2 Cor. 4:17; 1 Peter 1:7).

Whether God responds to our goodness with observable blessing or with trials that strengthen our faith and character, his love is never lacking (Heb. 12:6–11). Were it not for his mercy, which receives our best works with a divine delight that they would not warrant on their own, such imperfect works would justly receive the treatment of “filthy rags” (Isa. 64:6). Divine blessing flows from God’s mercy rather than from our merit.

We can rejoice greatly that God does not respond to our works with what they deserve, but with an infinite and loving mercy that sees instead only the perfect works of his Son, Jesus Christ—and counts those works as ours for his name’s sake. Glory be to God for such a wondrous gift!

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

Imagine taking your family to a restaurant and the waitress, who has been working hard all day, brings an extra plate and chair to your table and sits down to dine with you. Or imagine that you have just purchased a house and the realtor who helped you through the process shows up to move in with you. You would be shocked at such behavior and exclaim, “Just because you were doing your job doesn’t give you the right to eat at my table or become part of my household!”

In this parable, which troubles us in many ways, Jesus says something similar. The character representing the divine perspective seems so unsympathetic. Not only does the master not invite the hardworking servant to his table, but, we are told, he also does not owe the servant any thanks. Jesus’ point is that even when we have done all that we have been asked or commanded to do by God, we should not expect any special favors from him because, after all, “we are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.”

This message offends our sensibilities—which is exactly what Jesus intended. Remember that he is not speaking here to Pharisees or others who opposed him; he is speaking to his own disciples. No doubt they were sputtering at his words and whispering, “But, Lord, we left our homes, abandoned our livelihoods, and sacrificed acceptance in our communities to follow you. Surely you do not mean that God owes us nothing for all this!” Yet that is exactly what Jesus means.

We should never consider that our obedience, however great its measure or duration, qualifies us for heaven’s household or makes us worthy of divine acceptance. Our efforts before God—fine as they may be in themselves—will never earn us entry into his Kingdom or oblige him to love us. Yet love us he does—not because of our deeds, but in spite of them. He grants us the joys and benefits of membership in his family through our faith in his Son Jesus Christ, whose perfect deeds alone satisfy God’s requirements.

Let us, then, keep our hands and hearts empty of any claim that God must bless us on the basis of our goodness—and rejoice that he invites us to his table and into his family for Jesus’ sake.

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

When we cause people pain or fail to meet their expectations in some way, we typically resolve to make amends. Wayward children, spouses, employees, students, and politicians all vow to make atonement for their sins with the hope that their actions will compensate for their wrongdoing. This perfectly reasonable human response gets us into trouble, however, when we try to approach God in the same way.

When we know we have failed or frustrated God, we long to make amends. We search the Scriptures for some spiritual discipline or sacrifice that will make us right with him. But how can we possibly make amends to God when his standards for holiness are so high and our ability to meet them is so low?

In Luke 17, Jesus reiterates for his disciples just how high God’s standards are. He tells them that they must cause no sin (vv. 1–3a), they must confront the sin of others (v. 3b), and they must be willing to forgive any sin (vv. 3c–4). These are very high standards indeed. The disciples recognize this and plead, “Increase our faith!” (v. 5). What they really mean is, “Lord, if these are your expectations, then you’re going to have to help us out. We can’t do this!” Jesus confirms their need for his supernatural grace with his comments about having the faith of a mustard seed.

Trusting that God will bless us when we are good enough is not the solution to making things right with him. Nor is trying to achieve some sort of mental state in which we believe that if we have no doubt he will overlook our failures and do what we want. Both of these solutions depend on us reaching deep into ourselves for an extra measure of holiness—and we will come up empty every time. What moves God to act on our behalf is not the excellence of our actions or the purity of our thoughts, but our total reliance on a mercy that we do not deserve and cannot earn.

May we, like the disciples, learn to trust in the perfect goodness and mercy of God rather than in our own imperfect actions and motives, and may we, by his grace, be moved to love him more and serve him always in humility and gratitude for his great kindness to us.

This material is adapted from chapter 1 of Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

One important concern must be addressed as we seek to stimulate greater holiness by grace in ourselves and others: If all we do is keep assuring people that God loves them, what is to keep them from taking advantage of grace and doing whatever they want?

Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Grace should not make obedience optional. When God removes good works as a condition for his acceptance, he does not remove righteousness as a requirement for life. The standards of Scripture glorify God and protect his people from spiritual harm. We cannot undermine the legitimate standards of the Bible without grave consequences.

God does not love us because we obey him, but we cannot know the blessings of his love without obedience. Thus, a grace focus that undermines Christ’s own demand for obedience denies us knowledge of and intimacy with him. This is not grace. Grace that bears fruit is biblical. Grace that goes to seed uses God’s unconditional love as an excuse for selfish indulgence. Such egocentric living ultimately burdens us with the guilt and consequences of sin that God has designed his grace to remove.

Resting on God’s grace does not relieve us of our holy obligations; rather it should enable us to fulfill them (see Eph. 4:7–13). As the assurance of God’s love allows us to cease striving to please him for our own benefit, our good works will begin reflecting more of the selfless righteousness that is truly holy.

Through such other-oriented obedience our lives become more Christlike. God’s glory and the good of others increasingly replace self-centered motivations. And, as our obedience becomes a gratitude response to God’s grace rather than an attempt to bribe God for his blessings, holiness more and more characterizes our actions (Titus 2:11–14). We increasingly and forever serve God in the holiness he grants by his grace, making the pursuit of his holiness our greatest delight (2 Tim. 2:1).

I pray that this understanding of God’s grace will overwhelm us with a sense of his love so that our hearts resonate with his desires and his purposes become our own. May our souls delight in serving and honoring him as his grace brings ever more joy and holiness to our lives.

This material is adapted from the Introduction to Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

 — Ephesians 2:8–9

Many years ago, the preacher Phillips Brooks explained grace as God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. This expresses beautifully how the blessings of God, which Jesus alone deserves, are passed mercifully to us when we trust that Christ’s work on the cross, rather than our own achievements, is the basis for our righteousness. God sees us as though we were as holy as his own Son, and treats us as lovingly despite our imperfections.

Most Christians cherish the beauty of this truth. Yet many, after initially trusting in Christ to make them right with God, embark on an endless struggle to retain God’s affection by doing good works they think will keep him loving them. This turns the Christian life—which should be a joyful walk with the Lord—into a perpetual race on a performance treadmill.

While the Christian life can rightly be characterized as a race (see Gal. 5:7; 2 Tim. 4:7; Heb. 12:1), we persevere on the course God marks out for us not by straining to gain his affection but by the assurance that he never stops viewing us from the perspective of his grace. God continually offers us unconditional love and encouragement; our status as his children does not vary even though our efforts do.

When I see my son’s energy flag in his cross-country meets, I shout encouragement to revive his resolve and keep him going. I know that threats or expressions of frustration would ultimately sap his strength even if they might spur him on momentarily. Our heavenly Father’s encouragement rings even more powerfully, wisely, lovingly, and continually in his children’s souls. We race in the confidence that his grace does not cease just because we have faltered. Grace becomes not only the means by which God once justifies us; it is also the means by which we are continually encouraged and enabled to serve him with undiminished delight.

If we view ourselves from an earthly perspective, we will so focus on our weaknesses and stumbles that the race to please God will be misery. But if we remember that God is the lifter of our heads (Ps. 3:3), then we will raise our eyes to see the affection in his own.

When we know that his regard for us does not waver, then his grace quickens our steps, strengthens our hearts, and delights our souls to carry on. Hallelujah!

This material is adapted from the Introduction to Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).

 — Leviticus 19:1–2

“God says, ‘Be holy for I am holy.’” The young preacher quoted these words with such fervor that I had little doubt he really expected us to live up to this command. Yet as I scanned those seated between the pulpit and my pew, I wondered if he recognized the challenge in his own words. My eyes and my heart testified that there was not a sinless person among us in that church, yet the preacher seemed oblivious to our obvious faults.

Does God really expect us to be holy as he is? He is infinitely pure. I am an imperfect person. So is everyone about me (see Ps. 14:1–3; Eccles. 7:20). God’s standard seems either to ignore human frailty or to impose certain failure. We must make sense of this command for perfect righteousness lest our hearts harden into a shrugged, “Get real,” or break into a sobbed, “I can’t do it.”

How does God enable us to meet his requirement of holiness? A helpful clue may be found in John Bunyan’s famous book The Pilgrim’s Progress. Late on their journey, Bunyan’s pilgrims discover a wonderful mirror. There is nothing unusual about the front of the glass, but on the back of it appears an image of the crucified Jesus. Everyone who looks into the mirror’s face sees an ordinary reflection that includes the blemishes and scars that always accompany our humanity. Yet anyone who observes these same persons from the reverse side of the mirror sees only the glory of the Son of God.

Our holiness is not so much a matter of what we achieve as it is the grace our God provides. Grace is God’s willingness to look at us from the perspective that sees his holy Son in our place. God can certainly see the faults and frailties reflected in the mirrors of our lives. Still, he chooses to look at those who trust in his mercy through the lens that features the holiness of his own Child in our place. As a consequence, he loves and treasures us as much as if we had never sinned.

Thanks be to the God who, by his grace, makes us his own in Christ, and who, by that same grace, sees not our many sins and failings but the glorious holiness of his own Son. May his name be ever praised!

This material is adapted from the Introduction to Bryan Chapell’s book Holiness By Grace: Delighting in the Joy That is Our Strength (Crossway, 2001).