By Grace We Are Saved

“You must help the weak and remember the words of the Lord Jesus, that he Himself said, ‘It is more blessed to give than to receive.’” ~ Acts 20:35

“Love… does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not remember a wrong suffered.” ~ I Corinthians 13:5

“Our problem is that we remember the things we should forget, and we forget the things we should remember.”

It will arrive in the mail, in magazine articles and news shows, from pulpits and politicians, from friends and family: advice on how to make this holiday season meaningful, joyful...gracious.

photo by Melissa Rose

I’m all for the big gestures and the small kindnesses, the traditional and the not being limited by tradition. The extravagant gifts, the donating and volunteering, the special church services, the cookies for neighbors, the extra tip for the paper boy – all good and worthy things. 

But bear with me for a minute, because I’ve been thinking about grace lately – the kind that God shows us – absolutely free and unwarranted mercy. It engenders in us an immense amount of gratitude, or it should. But God showed us grace while we were still his enemies with the full knowledge that we would never return the favor. We could never do for him what he did for us.

Jesus made this clear, though: God uses his children to continue his grace project here on earth. Like I said, I’m all for the big gestures, the traditional gifts. But God stuff tends to be paradoxical – the kind of thing that doesn’t immediately make intuitive sense to us.

His yoke is easy; his burden is light

He is the beginning and the end…at the same time

He is the God who wills, fully and completely, and he who lets our choices matter

The God who cannot abide sin and who took all my sin on himself to save me

The God who tells me that if I lose all for him, I will have everything I need; that in order to live, I must die

So far above me, I can’t even imagine where he is, and he is near, in my heart

So I’ve been thinking that grace – God grace – is paradoxical, too. I think grace is small and all encompassing, it’s simple and difficult and mercy in disguise.

The holidays are upon us. We will have guests and be guests. I’ve surveyed friends and relatives about past holiday experiences and thought about my own, and I’m thinking these are the perfect conditions for the creation of grace. So this year…

Smile and kiss your husband on the cheek in gratitude when he returns with the tub of margarine for your holiday baking instead of the organic butter you sent him out for.

Without missing a beat, and without one scowl or harsh word, hand your kids the broom and some everyday plates to replace the good china they just broke while setting the table.

Ignore the fact that your in-law, trying to help out with breakfast, is scraping a fork across your best non-stick skillet.

Surreptitiously push to the back of the cupboard that perfect wine or champagne you spent a bunch of money on, because of the guest you just found out is struggling with addiction.

Smile with joy and say a heart-felt, “Thank you!”…no matter the gift.

Welcome the bedraggled extra people that arrive with your nieces and nephews, unannounced, as if they are your old, dear friends.

Be fine with two gargantuan Golden Retrievers (“Is it okay if I bring a small pet?” he asked.)

Don’t complain about the rock hard, or abysmally saggy, mattress your host gave you to sleep on…even a little bit…even with the tiniest of groans in the morning…even to your spouse.

Concentrate on your hipster relative's conversation, suit coat, goatee, anything but the fedora that he insists on wearing during his entire visit, even at the dinner table.

Remember to remove your hat when you walk into your grandmother's house.

Relax and just go with the uncle who has to control everything: meal times, conversation, the remote, the Xbox.

Despite your gourmet leanings, make the same Thanksgiving meal your mother made, including the canned sweet potatoes with mini-marshmallows on top or that weird creamed pea thing—because that’s the meal that feels like home to everyone.

Even though you love that creamed pea thing, try the new dish your sister generously provided this year.

Smile fondly at the granddaughter who stares at her smart phone all through dinner.

Have a heart for your older relatives, and turn off your phone for the fifteen minutes it takes to eat the turkey or open the presents.

Now that your granddaughter has turned off her phone, ask her what she's been up to...and don't scoff or smirk...no matter WHAT she says.

Let your whiskery old Aunt, who sees you only rarely, hug you and kiss you and just laugh when she starts to talk about all the embarrassing things you did as a child.

Swallow your pride and go home for Christmas, or at least call. Just because your family doesn’t accept everything about you or love everything you’ve ever done, that doesn’t mean they don’t want to love you and it certainly doesn’t mean they are not worthy of your love and unconditional forgiveness.

Invite the child, relative, or friend who had a falling out with the family or the one that always cancels at the last minute and don’t be disillusioned when they cancel again. Based on past experience, they might have good reason. Determine to invite them next year, and the year after that, and every year until you finally get the chance to welcome and accept them with open arms, like God welcomed us.

Insert your own holiday experiences of control, irritation and offense here. Bunch up your hands like you have those experiences in your fists. Now let them go.

Be revolutionary – defy the lie that silently forgiving an offense or shrugging off an irritation is somehow wrong, or unhealthy, or not "keeping it real." Do all these things, not out of a fear of conflict, or a sense of martyrdom, or for some future reward in the hereafter, but because grace is what God gives us, so that’s what we give to each other.

Finally, realize that the odds are you will rarely, if ever, be given the same mercy, love, or benefit of the doubt that you are about to give others. Because grace is mercy freely given.

I can’t guarantee it will all go well or feel good. But you know all those barriers we tend to build, brick by small brick, between us? The barriers that interfere with our experience of God and our love of each other? They just might fade away in an atmosphere of peace, love and joy that will be like waking to a clear day. Your guests' relief and peace most likely won't be attributed to you and with good reason—are you starting to realize that if grace happens in your home this holiday season, it won’t be you that was responsible for it?

Just like real love, real mercy, real hospitality—real grace is beyond our human abilities. For us, Jesus would say, it’s impossible. But with God, all things are possible.

So here’s my holiday prayer and fervent wish for all of us: Have some love-filled, mercy-filled, grace-filled, GOD-FILLED, very merry days!

(P.S. If you’re reading this and thinking, “I can’t do this because God’s never been a part of my holiday tradition,” I have good news! He wants to be, just ask him. It’s as easy as this, “Creator God, please show me you this holiday season.”)