This past week I heard a quote that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about. Despite my best efforts to track it down, I haven’t been able to figure out who said it or even where I heard it. I only know the gist of it, which essentially says that the cause of all our sin comes down to the universal belief that we each deserve something better than what we have.
I know this concept isn’t new to us as Christ followers, but it was that word deserve that has haunted me this week.
Less than two weeks ago, Jim and I got a text from our oldest son that someone tried to break into his car at college. Not only did they break in by throwing a brick through the window, but they tried to steal the car by ripping off the steering column, pulling out the ignition, and hotwiring it. When they didn’t succeed, they bailed, leaving behind shattered glass, a non-operational car, and thousands of dollars in damage.
Our son has been saving for this car – his first car – for two years. He has owned it for less than four months. I have a photo of him proudly holding the keys at the dealership this past August, and I can’t stop imagining him handing those same keys to the tow truck driver last week, as he desperately tried to keep his mind on final exams and projects.
The injustice has been on my mind a lot. It isn’t right! Our son worked hard for that car. It has been a pain for our family to figure out glass repairs in snow and sub-freezing temps and the logistics of getting him home for Christmas. Someone who thought this was fun or funny or an easy target will likely not get caught or held accountable, but our lives have been deeply impacted every day since it happened.
I am an Enneagram 1 (if you’re into that sort of thing!), and have a strong moral compass fueled by a sense of right and wrong. This comes with an inherent need for justice and a desire for everyone to do the “right thing.” As I’ve thought this week about injustice and violation, I’ve discovered that my desire for things to be “right” has caused a blip in my theology. In my head, I know that I am a sinner and deserve hell. I know that the grace of Jesus is my only hope and source of anything good. I also know that my sin runs deep. But if I am painfully honest, I believe in my heart that I “deserve” good things because I try to do the right thing. Of course, I'd never go so far as to say that God “owes me” something, but I do believe that outcomes in this world should match our actions and intentions. And that is not how the Gospel works at all because God knows that we can never do enough to earn His favor.
When Jesus came to earth as a human, he did it humbly in a manger. He was scorned, ridiculed, and killed on a cross. God Himself was punished. Talk about unfair! In fact, Jesus’s whole life was unfair in that He took on the pain of this world as God. He took my sin upon Himself, and I am going to live one day with Him in eternity. It is unequivocally unjust... Praise the Lord!
It isn’t just that I want something bad to happen to the person who did this (I have actually been convicted to pray for him to come to relationship with Jesus), it is that I don’t want unfair, bad things to happen to those who don’t deserve them. But this week I am being challenged to examine that and let it go. God has reminded me of three key truths: I don’t deserve any of the good gifts God gives, God decides what is just and will one day execute perfect justice, and He works all things for good for those who love Him (Romans 8:28).
As I practice Advent this year, I see the baby in the manger with fresh eyes. God With Us is the picture of injustice in the most loving and awe-inspiring way. We don’t deserve Him. I don’t deserve what He did for me, and when unfair things happen, they are just an unsurprising result of living in a sin-wrecked world. I can celebrate that this isn’t my forever home and that God gives me what I don’t deserve. Come, thou long-expected Jesus!