I was at my 82-year-old mother's bedside. Hospitalized for a couple of weeks without a clear diagnosis, now facing probable open-heart valve-replacement surgery, she was discouraged. A missionary, a godly woman of prayer and preacher of grace, my mother was now questioning whether she had what she needed to hang on to God during whatever the next days would bring. She had preached grace to others, but found it hard to live by grace in what she thought might be her last days. It was my privilege to say to her, "Mom, it isn't a question of your hanging on to God for dear life. God will not let go of you."
Gifted with a firstborn's sense of responsibility, reared in the well-meaning but rather ungracious atmosphere of a British boarding school in South India, and educated in "perfectionist" theology, I had found that I could talk grace, but it was another thing to feel it, live it and show it to other people.
When I was years out of seminary, approaching midlife, I finally began coming to grips with grace. Grace now reminded me of the old advertisement for Rolaids. "How do you spell relief?" asked the commercial. Instead of "R-O-L-A-I-D-S" I spelled it "G-R-A-C-E." But decades of imprinting and habit are hard to break. A high standard, perhaps even a perfectionist standard for ministry performance, continues to make grace difficult to live. Along with my 50-something friend, these days I'm learning about living on the basis of grace, even though I'm not always there yet.
I continue to believe that the early church fathers, John Wesley, and exponents of the holiness movement were right in calling Christians to the highest God has for us. But that highest, that perfection, is one of love. "Perfect love" was Wesley's favorite and most realistic understanding of Christian holiness. Furthermore, what draws us to love God and love others is God's gracious love for us.
Now I find that God's grace as motivator, liberator and identity-giver is absolutely the central core of life and ministry. Without regular infusions of grace, I cannot be an effective lover to my wife of more than 30 years and parent to my grown children. Unless I live by grace and in grace, I am not vital as staff leader, pastoral friend, preacher, teacher, worship guide, organizational administrator.
When I don't live by grace, fear of failure leads me to back away from taking risks. When grace isn't a persistent lifestyle, the risk of failure looks daunting, especially for a cautious person like me.
When I don't live by grace, I'm either too hard on my co-workers and family or I swallow my concerns and do nothing for fear of being misunderstood or disliked. Neither alternative conveys the grace of God that comes through loving acceptance or gracious confrontation.
When I don't live by grace, assessing my value means listening to church-growth experts, other churches' statistics and my own insecurity rather than to God's tender voice affirming, "You are my well?beloved son."
Does your identity plummet when you are criticized at work or at church?
What happens when you fail to live up to your own or other people's standards?
Do you have the kind of grace-built confidence that empowers risk-taking and change?
These are not questions just for pastors and Christian leaders, but for any who want to talk grace and live it too.
The following are some things I'm learning to do, which are helping me keep the flow of grace strong and fresh in my life.
I come back to grace every day.
It's all too easy for me as a responsibility-oriented, perfectionist-inclined person to backslide into the pressure and stress of ungracious living. Day by day I find I must take my stand again, along with Martin Luther, on the platform of grace -- affirming, believing, resting in the conviction that I am accepted by God through Christ today. And when I fall off that platform, as I sometimes do, I have to climb back and take my stand again on grace for that day.
I read the Psalms a lot.
The worldview of the Psalms points me to God. Here are the emotional outpourings of people who, like me, seemed to fail, fret and fuss. But time and time again they turned their stressed eyes back to God, their Powerful Lover, Refuge and Savior. This great and gracious God was the One to whom they belonged and who could be trusted to meet their needs.
I read authors who affirm my pastoral role, which I believe is God-given.
For me, this role springs from a solid theology of church and spiritual leadership, rather than merely from sociology and opinion polls. I take refuge from the "how?to?do?it" people when I drink deeply from authors who remind me that pastoring is primarily being God's person in the midst of God's people, leading in worship and announcing God's good news of grace. If I weren't a pastor, I'd find authors who affirm my identity in Christ, build my spirit, help me pray, and assist toward being a gracious and Christlike person.
I make personal prayer and congregational worship central to my life.
Long morning walks alone help me refocus daily on God and grace through meditation and prayer. It's in prayer that contemplates who God is that I'm daily in touch with grace. It's in the worship of the community that my sense of grace is renewed week by week. During a recent sabbatical visit to Britain, I had the opportunity to worship several times in the Anglican liturgy. The music and words of ancient times washed over my spirit in deep, renewing waves of grace.
I work at forgiving myself for not getting everything done and for not being able to be all things to all people.
Yes, I work hard and I do extend myself to serve people. But I'm not always the right one to connect everyone with God. That used to trouble me terribly. But increasingly I'm glad for other staff members, women pastors and laypeople who sometimes minister in ways I cannot.
I try to assess my motivations for serving God.
Is it the love of a gracious God that draws me to extend myself in 60-70 hour weeks, or is it pressure to perform, succeed, look good? "Burnout" most often happens when work has lost its grace motivation and is being pushed around and pressured by something less than grace.
I avoid confusing grace with careless laxity.
God's love, which is grace to us, is holy love. This kind of love flourishes when there are boundaries, limits and standards. Carelessness and eventual moral collapse happen when these are lacking. Responding to God's grace means loving God in return. And we love God by obeying Him, says the Apostle John. In three years as chair of a conference board, I had to be involved in suspending five pastors for misconduct. It was extremely painful to have to draw the line of acceptable behavior for leaders. But I am convinced the line was drawn in grace and with the offer of restoration. When I repent and confess my sins, I am open to God's grace. When I call others to the same repentance and confession before God, we together experience the grace of forgiveness.
David Seamands, my pastor in seminary, used to say, "Grace is the face God wears when He meets our imperfection, sin, weakness and failure." That's the Face I need to focus on for my own salvation, but also in my day-by-day living. Now I am not only talking about grace more, but also learning better how to live grace day by day.
