There Is No "If" -- Part 1

Jesus did not say, "If you go and sin no more, then neither will I condemn you."

Jesus said, "Neither do I condemn you.  Go and sin no more."

This is a huge point.

"The command is not a condition.  'Neither do I condemn you' is categorical and unconditional; it comes with no strings attached.  'Neither do I condemn you' creates an unconditional context within which 'go and sin no more' is not an if.

"The only if the gospel knows is this:  'If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous.'"

Oh wow.  There is no if.  What a huge relief.  Freedom.  This is grace.

One of the problems, though, is that we (I) like the "if."  This is totally counterintuitive -- we shouldn't like it, but we do.  We like the certainty the "if" provides us even though it is conditional.  We like being in control.  No, on second thought, we love being in control.  With an "if" in place, we have some control.

"'Give me five principles for raising exemplary children, and I can guarantee myself a happy family if I just obey those five principles.'  If we can do certain things, meet certain standards (whether God's, our own, our parents', our spouse's, society's, whomever's), and become a certain way, then we'll make it.  It feels like it works -- at least that's what we've been told.  Conditionality lets us feel safe, because it breeds a sense of manageability.  The equation 'If I do this, then you are obligated to do that' keeps life formulaic and predictable, and more important, it keeps the earning power in our camp."

But there is no "if."  And when we live according to the "if" mentality, we are living like Javert in Les Miserables.

"For Javert, as with all of us, the logic of law makes sense.  He lived his entire life according to the if-then conditionality:  if you do wrong, then you must be punished.  [It is ironic to consider that the opposite was true in Acts of the Apostles:  e.g., in Acts 14, when Paul and Barnabas did right, they were punished -- even worse, stoned.]  The if-then conditionality of law made Javert and makes us feel safe.  It's easy to comprehend.  It promotes a sense of manageability.  And best of all, it kept him, and us, in control.  We get to keep ledgers and scorecards.  Javert would rather die than deal with the disorienting reality of the one-way love he receives from Valjean -- so he jumps into the river, ending his life.  He chose death over grace, control over chaos [or better put perhaps, adventure]."

In 40: Reflections for Lent, I recorded a poem I had written regarding this odd dinner in Mark 14.  I don't know if it's the same story as Luke 7, but both have a man named Simon and a woman anointing Jesus with oil from an alabaster flask.  (It really doesn't matter if they're the same story or not, but I wanted to relate it back for my own curiosity.)  At the end of the episode, Jesus tells the woman, "Your sins are forgiven.  Your faith has saved you; go in peace."

"Note that we don't have any record of her saying anything like, 'I'm really sorry.  I promise to live a reformed life from now on.'  We don't have a record of her saying anything at all!  All we have a record of her doing is kissing his feet, washing them with her tears, and drying them with her hair.  No promises to do better.  No declarations of her own fidelity and determination to live a changed life.  No Sinner's Prayer prayed; no resolutions signed.  Just tears and kisses and audacious love."

Contrast that with our reaction to someone who has wronged us:

"'Forgive him?  He would never ask for forgiveness!  And unless he asks for it, I would never grant it.  And even then, I'd have to believe it, you know?  I'd have to see some real change.  We are only called to forgive those who have repented.  That's how God works.'"

Oh, really?

Jesus forgave his torturers with these words, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?"

"The gospel doesn't just free you from what other people think about you, it frees you from what you think about yourself.  In other words, you are not who others see you to be, and you are not who you see yourself to be; you are who God sees you to be -- His beloved child, with whom He is well pleased."

"The Gospel breaks the chains of reciprocity and the circular exchange.  Since there is nothing we ultimately need from one another, we are free to do everything for one another.  Spend our lives giving instead of taking; going to the back instead of getting to the front; sacrificing ourselves for others instead of sacrificing others for ourselves.  The Gospel alone liberates us to live a life of scandalous generosity, unrestrained sacrifice, uncommon valor, and unbounded courage." 

Isn't this how I really want to live?  Freedom?  This is it.

-- my reflections from Tullian Tchividjian, One Way Love