Transcription
Very possibly you don't even believe in God, or maybe you believe in a vague way, but you have hundreds of problems like debts and addictions, and today you have come to see if that cosmic grandpa up there can lend you a hand. Or perhaps you are a person who detests coming here; you fall asleep during sermons, the worship bores you, and the only reason is because you haven't understood what the gospel is about. Many of the people who are here think that the gospel is reduced to a lot of rules that you must follow to get to heaven. That's all, you think. That your works or your good deeds will be like a kind of pass when Saint Peter and his keys let you in through the great eternal doors. But today we are going to clear up all doubts by talking about one of the messages that represent the backbone of Christianity, and for that, we are going to Ephesians chapter 2 and verse 8. Thank you. And as the Apostle Paul writes, "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God." You have no merit in that; it is a gift from God. Surely on many occasions, colleagues from work or your class have told you something like, "All religions are the same, aren't they?" And in reality, that is only half true, because not all religions are the same, but it is true that all religions are superficially similar. All religions have one or several gods, a sacred book, a temple in which to pray, a multitude of faithful, isn't that so? But deep down, all religions are characterized by being made of a similar fabric: performing good deeds to achieve God's favor. That's all. But could you tell me a single trait, just one, of Christianity that makes it a unique religion? What is it?
The truth is that in other pagan religions of history, there are different versions of the resurrection, the incarnation, God becoming man. The truth is that in other religions or mythologies, there are similar versions of the incarnation. Do you know what the trait is that makes Christianity a religion distinct from all others? Grace. Grace. Salvation as a free gift is only present in Christianity. The 4,200 religions we find in the world try to earn heaven through human effort. If we go to Buddhism, we will find that there are eight steps to fulfill to free ourselves from our selfish desires. We go to Hinduism, we will see that one must suffer to purify karma. If we go to Judaism, we will see that one must do hundreds of commandments to be accepted by the Lord. And if we go to Islam, we see how one must fulfill the five pillars of the Quran without having the certainty of whether Allah will let you into paradise. But the truth, brothers, is that none of us here this morning, upon entering heaven, will say to God, "Give me what is mine, pay me what you owe me." Can you imagine a heaven entered through your merits? Firstly, the standard to achieve it would have to be adjusted to a minimum moral level. That is, God would make it very easy for you, because otherwise, heaven would be emptier than a beach bar at Christmas. Secondly, heaven would be full of proud people who would look with superiority at those who passed with a lower grade. "You barely made it in here, but clearly, I was better than you on planet Earth." And thirdly, if heaven were a reward, there would be no atmosphere of gratitude, but of presumption, and it wouldn't take us a minute to turn heaven into hell. That is Christianity, because Martin Luther said, "Grace is the hinge on which everything else turns." But what is grace? The word grace means "charis," and this word means favor. And Abraham Kuyper has an impressive definition of what it means. He says that the grace of God is God's free favor manifested in spiritual and eternal blessings to guilty and unworthy creatures. Do you know what Abraham Kuyper is telling us here? He is telling us that God's grace not only consists of undeserved favors but of favors that God gives us despite deserving the opposite. In other words, grace is the opposite of merit. Where there is merit, there is no grace. Where there are works, there is no grace. Where there are recognitions, there is no grace. Where there is pride, there is no grace. The great theologian Lewis Chafer said, "Grace is equivalent to merciful treatment of those who do not deserve it." And this is the great difference between the meaning of the word mercy and the word grace. Do you know the difference between them? Mercy is that God does not punish you despite your sins. However, grace is that God blesses you despite them.
But surely right now you are full of questions and say, "Okay, that's fine. If there's nothing I can do to contribute to my salvation, then what role do effort and obedience play? For what reason would a God who gives away heaven demand a series of behaviors when salvation is supposed to be free?" Did you know that grace has a big problem? And the problem grace has is our misunderstanding of what it means. And because in many Christian circles grace is not understood, two fierce monsters arise that distort the true image of what holiness is, and these are libertinism and legalism. The two horrendous faces of this monster that only bring confusion within the church. Let's talk about libertinism. Look, because we don't understand God's grace, we immediately reduce it to the forgiveness of our sins, don't we? Sometimes they ask you, "Hey, what does God's grace mean in your life?" And well, we start listing hundreds of things related to how we have been forgiven, haven't we? We reduce grace to the forgiveness of our sins when grace has more to do with the power to overcome them. And that is the reason why so many Christians fall into a loop of hollow frivolity. "Ah, I've fallen into the same sin again. I try to get up, but I always return to the same starting point. I am not worthy to be part of this church. I have disappointed God because I have fallen back into my addictions. I have fallen back into pornography. I have fallen back into the old habits of my former life. I am truly a hypocrite who has a double life." And I know that this morning, many of the people sitting in your chairs have thoughts of this kind that are eating away at your soul. We reduce grace to hollow frivolity and, without realizing it, we use grace as a mattress to throw ourselves onto when it has more to do with a mattress in case we fall. And just as it happened to the church in Rome, we abuse grace. Of course, the church in Rome said, "Okay, it's fine. If God gives grace to sinners, then why not keep sinning more to receive more grace, right?" But we see in Romans chapter 6, "Now should we continue in sin that grace may abound? By no means!" We have died to sin; how then can we continue to live in it? Here the Apostle Paul is giving two key teachings to the Romans and to the Canary Islanders. Do you know the first? The first is that the freedom that grace offers us will never lead us to sin. And the second is that if we use grace to sin, it is a clear symptom that we have not known it. And that is the simple reason why the Apostle Paul, in this letter, reminds the Romans that the only way to live in freedom is under the umbrella of grace, under the umbrella of grace, not perceiving it as bars that imprison you, but as borders that protect you. Look, I have never been to jail, but I don't need to be to know that when you are behind bars, you want to escape, but you can't. But I live in a country full of borders, and I can escape, but I don't want to. And I give you this example: if you have to put handcuffs on your wrists so you don't sin, does that mean you would sin if you didn't have them on? But the freedom that grace offers us breaks those handcuffs to lead us to reject sin, even if we are tempted to commit it. Because friend, if your Christian life, or your life of holiness, or your spiritual life depends on the pastor being aware of you 24 hours a day, on constant pastoral supervision, or on a threat of divorce from your wife, or on maintaining a visible position in this church, I'm sorry, but that has nothing to do with holiness. That has more to do with hollow religiosity. Because you know what? God's grace has the power to do everything, but God's grace does everything that pertains to its function. And let's look at it in Titus chapter 2 and verse 11: "For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, pure lives in this present age." According to the text in Titus, God's grace has the power to do two things. The first is that God's grace saves us, and the second is that God's grace sanctifies us. Now, there is a big difference between these two things. Salvation is a synergism. Now, what does this strange word mean? It means only one person intervenes. None of you here will go to heaven and say to God, "Give me what is mine." All of us here have been saved by the grace of God. A rescue implies something you cannot do by your own strength; you have to be rescued. But, however, sanctification—for those of you who don't know what sanctification is, it is that process of internal transformation in which God gradually changes you into His image, okay?—well, sanctification is a monergism. What does this mean? It means that it is no longer one person intervening; now it is two: God and you. And here, brothers, it would be appropriate to quote Saint Augustine, who said the following: "Live as if everything depended on God, but work as if everything depended on you." Because grace, friend, opposes merit, but not effort. Grace opposes merit, but not effort. What did the Apostle Paul say to his son Timothy? "My son, be strong in the grace." But of course, often Christians think that effort and grace are two things that repel each other, two completely different things like water and oil, like the two opposite poles of a magnet. But you know, brother, what the Apostle Paul is telling his son Timothy here is that all we have to do is yield our will so that grace may lead us to obedience. Because what is the role that grace plays in that fine line that separates merits from effort? Do you know what God's power is? God's power. That is why, if we bring this text down to a clear and understandable idea, it means that grace leads us to make an effort, but not through our own strength, but through the power that God provides. And then there are no merits, because the glory belongs to the Lord, do you understand? And that is precisely one of the great differences that exist between grace and the law. In the case of grace, favor comes before obedience. But in the case of the law, it is obedience that comes before favor. But the clear difference and the solution that God offered us in Christ is that the commandments that grace gives us are not simply impossible rules to follow, but that the commandments that grace gives us come equipped with the power to fulfill them. What happens is that on many occasions, we use God's grace as a joker when we have failed in our efforts, don't we? Sometimes we think that grace is a sporadic force that appears in our spiritual lows, and when we are strong, it is we who work, who labor.
But listen carefully: grace is not only present when you have committed a big sin. Grace is not only present to help you after going through a cold season. Grace is not only present when you notice that God uses you even when you are in spiritual reserve. What did God say to the Apostle Paul? "My grace is sufficient for you." Do you know what the word "sufficient" means? It means enough. What happens is that sometimes we see the cross as insufficient and think that we can complement it with our meritorious works. But there is a very big difference between the gospel and religion. There is, and it is that religions revolve around what must be done, but the gospel of grace revolves around something that has been done. From that day when Jesus said, "It is finished," the time is up, and trying to add works to grace, the only thing it means, or a way we can see it, is trying to put more things into a jar that is already full. Absolutely nothing else fits. But let's read the text thoroughly: Second Corinthians 12:9, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." From a natural logic, it makes no sense that human weakness serves for... or does it? That your power acts better in weakness would be more logical to think that your power, like, gives much, much more capacity to my virtues, no? But no. And now the Apostle Paul continues, "So now I will boast in my weaknesses." The Apostle Paul has gone crazy. So you rejoice because you have weaknesses? But you know why he rejoices? Because he knows that Christ's power works through him. On many occasions, we have not understood the meaning of this text. But do you know why? Because we have not understood what the weakness Paul is talking about is. Do you know what the weakness you have could be? The weakness I have are those weak points of our personality, that is, everything you hate when you look in the mirror, those limitations you are ashamed of. And the Apostle Paul says that he rejoices in all these things because, you know what? Religiosity is not interested in bringing our limitations to light, but in shining our merits. Religiosity is not interested in bringing our limitations to light, but in making our merits visible. "I have gained the anointing to cast out demons after my 30 days of fasting." But then we fall into a game where "I deserve it." Think about it. Do you know the reason why God's power flows through our... listen... our weak points and not our virtues? Do you know why? Because our weak points are what we are not proud of. And if we are not proud of that means that makes it possible for Christ to act in us, then for whom is the glory? Only for God. Because, brothers, notice that if each one of us here is prone to pride, God uses our limitations to glorify Himself. Why? Because He knows that we are already proud of our virtues ourselves. I sometimes boast about the videos I make on social media, or the likes, or giving a speech, or whatever. And you probably also boast about those things you are good at. Now, what is legalism? In my years as a Christian, which are not many, I have seen a lot of legalism, and I have even experienced it firsthand. I have found three definitions in which we can understand what legalism is. Look, the first: legalism could be something like this: when we obey, but we isolate God from our actions. The second is when the rules become the priority. And the third is when we turn our prejudices into commandments of the Lord. Does that sound familiar? Is morality bad? Is morality bad? Fear to answer. No, morality is not bad. Morality is good. No, what is bad is moralism. That is, when we add the suffix "-ism" to morality. This means that morality becomes the priority of all my motivations. And without realizing it, sometimes we think something similar to this: "Well, if I behave well, then I will be accepted, right?" We think this, but that is not what the gospel teaches. What the gospel teaches is that first, God accepts you as you are, and you are accepted through what Jesus did for you, and then your morality is affected accordingly. Because friend, you don't have to strive to impress God, because Jesus has already impressed Him for you. We see in Galatians 3:3, "Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" Engrave this phrase in your mind: Grace and something more is not more, but less. Grace and something more is not more, but less. We see in Colossians 2:20, "Listen carefully: If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why, as though you still belonged to the world, do you not submit to decrees, such as 'Do not handle, do not taste, do not touch'?" (These rules are concerned with things destined to perish by their very use.) Such regulations, indeed, have an appearance of wisdom, with their self-imposed piety, humility, and severe treatment of the body, but they lack any power to restrain sensual indulgence. All of us here are detoxing from the internal legalist. I sometimes fall into that. We are all detoxing from the internal legalist. And if you still don't quite agree with me, I would like to give you the legalist test. First question: Do you feel superior to those who do not meet your standards? Second question: Do you focus on your achievements to gain God's approval? Third question: Do you feel uncomfortable when facing other opinions? And fourth question: Is there room for compassion in your theology? Is there room for compassion in your theology? Look, it sounds the same.
I would like to address two types of people: those who are coming for the first time and have not yet understood what the Christian faith consists of, and I would also like to address those who feel guilty about themselves and carry a very heavy backpack with hundreds of sins they cannot leave behind. And I would like to tell you a story. A long time ago, there was a child named Dimas. He grew up in a smelly, disreputable suburb, within a very poor family. He was the son of a prostitute who accidentally became pregnant by a very wealthy man who fled without looking back. Dimas never went to school, never went to the synagogue, but rather sneaked into the markets of that town and stole what he could to bring home. Dimas grew up and specialized in the oldest art of all arts: theft. He became a master, a crack thief, stealing from others until one day he decided to pull off the heist of his life. He decided to rob a Roman centurion's house. He entered and saw that no one saw him. The house is empty. This is my moment. I'll take absolutely everything, and who knows, maybe I'll move to a different city and start a new life. With such bad luck, one of his servants caught him. He called the authorities, and they managed to catch him. They gave him a very quick trial, reviewed his record, and it was clear: he deserves death. Let's crucify him. At that moment, Dimas, locked in a dungeon, had the remorse typical of a person who knows they are going to die. "Why didn't I pay more attention to my mother's advice? Why didn't I go to the synagogue more often? Now that I'm here, about to be crucified, I remember God's law. With what face will I present myself before the God of Abraham?" Suddenly, kicking down that wooden door, a burly Roman entered and placed a heavy yoke on him that he had to carry through the cobbled streets of Jerusalem. And there was something that worried Dimas much more than the disdain of the religious people or the jeers of the children, and that was the guilt of a life immersed in sin. And there he arrived at the mount of death. Two Roman officers knocked him down with a kick, pierced his hands with two nails of cold steel, amidst screams, tears, sweat, and crying, they lifted him up, and he was exposed to the shame of those gazes that judged him without mercy. "How will I present myself before God? I stole my whole life. Probably in a few hours, I'll be on the other side of eternity." When Dimas lifted his head, he discovered that he was not the only one crucified there. Beside him was an executed man for the same cause, another thief. But on his other side was one with a title on the header that read: "Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews." Dimas thought he was hallucinating. "But wait, isn't this the popular rabbi who was famous for his controversial teachings and miracles? What is he doing nailed here next to me?" And now it sounded familiar. "Ah, but look who it is. I remember hearing some of his teachings from afar when I pretended to be just another listener to steal from some distracted person in the crowd." While the crowd listened, he was there stealing wallets. But Jesus had a special glow when He saw his behavior. People insulted Him, even the other crucified man challenged Him, saying that if He was truly who He claimed to be, He should bring them all down and take revenge on His enemies. But nevertheless, Jesus did not respond in the same way. Jesus returned good for evil. The hours continued to pass, the pain became much more intense, and the thirst much greater. Crows circled the three crosses, waiting for the first corpse. But suddenly, Dimas had a revelation. While the rest of the people on that mountain saw in Jesus a simple, bloodied Jew, he could see a King who had come from afar. He knew that no equal occasion would present itself. Who would have told that crucified man that it was a good day to be nailed to the cross? And he said, "Here I go. I'm going to throw myself into it. I'm going to dare. I will not be afraid of this man's rejection. Now, always remember me when you come into your kingdom." He closed his eyes, awaiting a list of accusations. "What a terrible job. So, you stole your whole life and did whatever you wanted, and now you expect me to save you?" But suddenly, to his surprise, he heard his sweet response, and Jesus said to him, "Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise." Dimas couldn't believe it. "So, that's it? That's all? From the cross to paradise? Or did Jesus tell me this to console me, or is heaven truly free, and this Jesus of Nazareth is the only way to reach Him?" If today you are a person who feels guilty about yourself and thinks that the gates of heaven are closed to you, or if you have not yet experienced the person of Jesus, if you mistreat your wife, if you drug yourself in secret, if you have a double morality and a double life, and you simply come here to please the pastor or your friend, or if you are a person who is desperate, with depression, with addictions, with anxiety, with meaninglessness, with bleeding wounds in your soul from past experiences, today I want you to contemplate the figure of the crucified one who tells you, just like the young Dimas, "Truly, I say to you, if you ask me today, you will be with me in paradise." If there is anyone, if there is anyone who today willingly wants to give their life to the person of Jesus, today is the moment. And I would like to ask you to have a few moments to pray. Stand up with me, and let's pray together.