Big Red and Cigarettes

     I wanted to get a haircut this past weekend but made very little effort to do so.  I had meetings scheduled for later so I decided to go early this morning.  The young lady seated at the front seemed less than enthusiastic to see me even though the place was empty.  She chewed away at her gum while I said my last name three times; Graves, Grace? Graves, Trays?  No Graves, oh Gray.  After a few more clicks on the computer, she showed me to a chair, her chair.  “Just great,” I thought. 

     I offered very little conversation other than how I wanted my hair cut.  She was still smacking away at that gum.  Several times she was close enough with her exhale that I could tell she was chewing Big Red and then with the next breath I could smell what it was intended to cover up, cigarettes.  In the moment, it was a shot to my soul that took my breath.

     I am often triggered in memories by smells.  The smell of Black and Gold tobacco powder reminds me of sitting in my grandfather’s lap while he read the paper.  You even mention rutabaga and I may possible get an uneasy stomach remembering how bad my mom botched it one time.  The list goes on and on.  This young lady’s breath reminded me of a sin that entangled my dad for over 30 years.  I have many bad memories of taking a beating and smelling that stench.  That, however, was not the punch to my soul.

     I could sense the Lord showing me very painfully what my life often looks like.  I talk about grace and forgiveness but underneath the tones of what I say are my actions.  My decisions oftentimes are the stench of selfishness and pride rooted in a “me first” mentality.  Going back to what Dr. Bart Box said on Sunday,  “conviction is much more comfortable when it is in a group setting.”  Today, there was no group.  It was just me being washed over with the Word in a painful moment. 

     The young lady finished and I sheepishly smiled with a “thank you.”  I went to pay and then apologized for not saying much.  Lessons learned from Big Red and cigarettes.

We rob God

We actively rob God.

Every time we sanitize our stories and minimize our sins, we steal glory that is due God in exchange for a “more acceptable to others” version of our lives.  To hear people talk about coming to faith, one would think that most came to know Christ after a season where they by themselves had cleaned up their lives and really were living right and it just seemed like the next logical step to take.  NOT TRUE. We have lost the ability to be ashamed and ache of any sin.

We have exchanged a true snapshot of our stories for a public relation acceptable version.
We describe our rejection of the true gospel as “struggling.”
We say “bad choices” when we should say things like liar, thief, manipulator, adulterer, unrepentant, etc.

The great prayers of Nehemiah 9, Ezra 9, and Daniel 9 all have these components.  The people of God so feared Him in reverence that they tell of their own rejection with precise detail and recount the faithfulness of God throughout the generations.

I ache that we have lost our way in this.  I am praying for each of us.

Hear Paul describe His story of rejecting God and God choosing and calling Paul out.  This is what July 2009 felt and looked like in my life, painful and yet so so beautiful.

Acts 26:9-18 ESV
I too was convinced that I ought to do all that was possible to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth.  And that is just what I did in Jerusalem. On the authority of the chief priests I put many of the saints in prison, and when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them.  Many a time I went from one synagogue to another to have them punished, and I tried to force them to blaspheme. In my obsession against them, I even went to foreign cities to persecute them.

“On one of these journeys I was going to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests.  About noon, O king, as I was on the road, I saw a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, blazing around me and my companions.  We all fell to the ground, and I heard a voice saying to me in Aramaic, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’“Then I asked, ‘Who are you, Lord?’

“‘I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting,’ the Lord replied.  ‘Now get up and stand on your feet. I have appeared to you to appoint you as a servant and as a witness of what you have seen of me and what I will show you.  I will rescue you from your own people and from the Gentiles. I am sending you to them to open their eyes and turn them from darkness to light, and from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.’

Missing Grace

I consider this to be the saddest passage in all of Scripture.  Here was an opportunity to show grace and it was passed over.

Luke 2:7 ESV

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

 

I want to first acknowledge that I am the inn keeper every day.  Someone messes up an order, I make sure they know of the mistake.  Someone stalls in a promise, I remind them of what they originally said.  Someone hides behind the “God card,” I remind them about grace (the irony in that one is rich!) I stumble in showing grace to the older brother from the story of the prodigal.  When we refuse to show grace to others, we miss out on the blessing that took place in the manger.  New life broke through the world that night in the manger.  The inn keeper was busy worrying about customer service.  Hope invaded mankind.  The inn keeper was tallying up his profit.

The passage in Isaiah 61:3 that describes God giving us beauty for ashes is a beautiful picture of what takes place in the middle of our brokenness.  Jesus was born when animals had defecated.  Maybe the inn keeper had let a prostitute hide for a night there.  I doubt it was plush but the occupants that night would set our course for eternity.

I encourage you that the next time you are tempted to withhold grace, remember that grace is being poured out on you even in that moment.  Don’t miss out on the beauty of the stable that takes place in our lives everyday.  Become a person of the second chance.

PS.

Here is a great article by Mike Foster talking about the question that kills grace everyday.

http://www.potsc.com/gracenomics/the-most-deadly-question-for-grace/