"Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into to the world to save sinners –– of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Jesus Christ might display His immense patience as an example for those who would believe in Him and receive eternal life.” (1 Timothy 1:15-16 NIV)
We recently visited the Vatican. I was surprised by several things.
First off, it’s more museum than sanctuary. We plodded our way through twenty-seven galleries to get to the Sistine Chapel. I would have preferred a fast-pass to the main event and fifteen minutes of silent reflection. By the time we stepped into the Sistine, my neck hurt from looking up. If I was in charge, I’d rent automotive creepers by the hour and let folks shuttle their way through each room in a way they could properly appreciate the ceilings!
Secondly, I was taken aback by the art and artifacts the Catholic church as acquired. Their possession of Egyptian funeral tokens and Greek busts was beyond my comprehension. Priceless works of art adorned every room. It was all safely tucked behind glass or carefully cordoned off; free of fingerprints and human interaction.
The whole Vatican experience made me think about my own faith. How approachable is it?
1 Timothy 1:15-16 reminds us that we are not instructed to live such set-off lives. We are more living history farm than velvet-roped museum. God asks us to live out His grace in tangible, honest and communal ways: where others can see and touch His tremendous patience with our sinful nature.
The longer I live, the more I see my life an interactive demonstration of God’s immense patience. Faith does not hide behind glass in a museum, it is approachable and evident through daily interactions. It’s the difference between a diorama and an immersive experience. Others can see and collaborate with God’s grace because it’s on display in my day to day life. He loves me; a sinner.
This dramatic display of God’s patience is invitational. If He has grace enough for even me, there’s grace available for those around me, also. If I can be honest and open about my struggles with sin, the door is open for others to admit their wrestle.
When we humble ourselves (a reoccurring theme for me in this season) something extraordinary happens. Our ordinary lives become receptacles of His glory. Tabernacles. The world around us gets a glimpse of who God really is because He intersects with earth through our laid-down ives. Others are able to experience God-in-action through our humility. And He gets the glory.
Isn’t this what Pentecost is all about? This vessel of ordinary flesh becoming a fountain of God’s grace? Living as tabernacles where presence of the Lord can burn through and shed light on a fallen world?
“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that He may lift you up in due time.” (1 Peter 5:5 NIV)
Lord, today we are grateful for grace that isn’t behind glass. You are good to show up in our lives, even as we wrestle with our sinful nature. The grace You offer us is accessible to others, as well. Let us interact as living invitations, extending the grace You so readily give. Amen.