The Following Week

One week ago, we sang as though we never could forget: “Christ the Lord is risen today!”

But Tuesday turned out rainy, in the skies and in our eyes. By Wednesday, all the grievances—both small and great—began their dread, familiar march: the pushy colleague who thinks only of himself; the rising price for food and gas; the memories of broken things that fill our thoughts when sleep won’t come. Whatever Easter meant has drifted to the margins of our days. The flowers fade. The bright, white light has dimmed.

And so we must remind each other of the power of good news:  “You were once dead because of your failures and sins” (Eph 2:1). “But God forgave your sins and gave you new life through Christ” (Col 2:13). “By grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Eph 2:8). “This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun!” (2 Cor 5:17).

Headlines rage and prices soar. Worries come and thunder roars. But one clear fact remains: Christ is alive, and walks a road near you.

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Considering the Lillies

He breathes again.
The lungs collapsed by suffocating sorrow
Fill again with fragrant air.
The eyes still shut by Friday’s tears
Now flicker as the retinas
Anticipate the brilliant light that once was His.
And somewhere deep within,
This Man of Sorrows fully smiles
With hope delayed, now irrepressible.
All things are finished.
All things have just begun.
For one delicious moment,
Creation’s sovereign pauses, lingers,
Savoring the joy now rising in His mind.
Uncounted millions will awake
Some warm, spring resurrection morn—
Convinced of love, inhaling light—
And stepping out to life unbound.
He who prophesied
That we will rise
Now gathers lilies of His labor.
And He is satisfied.
 
Christ breathes again.
And so do we.
And so will we.

—Bill Knott

Growing Wealth

In every life, a moment breaks when we confront our poverty. We’ve spent our last ideas: we’ve used up all goodwill. We found that hope was stolen by the accidents of time and chance.

 And so we turn to self-help books, to watermelon diets, to exercise extremes that promise to renew our bodies and our minds. We chase the grand illusion that we can mend what’s broken in us by learning business confidence, or losing 30 pounds in 30 days, or watching soothing videos before we sleep at night. Somewhere—out there—must be a fix for all that’s draining us.

 And we are then both wrong and right. There is no secret skill in us that will revive our hope—not wealth, or sleek physique, or social capital. But there is Someone who has pledged to give us His abundant life—where shame and doubting are no more. Jesus says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor 12:9).

 “You know the generous grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, so that by His poverty He could make you rich” (2 Cor 8:9).

 Receive the grace that gifts you Christ’s abundant joy.

 And stay in it.

—Bill Knott

Hero to the Rescue

Above the brightest stars of sport; beyond the galaxy of those whose notoriety is redder than their carpets; through all the rags-to-riches tales of newly-minted billionaires, we honor those who give themselves for others.

They run toward fires, not away. They reach the helpless, sometimes at the cost of their own lives. They risk the worst diseases to care for those most ill.

Jesus said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13).

And He did more than run through fire or speak inspiring words. The Hero of all ages laid down His life for each of us—became the sacrifice we couldn’t make—to save anyone who might become His friend. “For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ” (2 Corinthians 5:21).

Grace is the love that rescues us. It was intentional: it still is free. Now let the greatest hero carry you to joy.

And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Audacious Grace

We cringe for things that happened long ago—for memories so sharp and clear we blush whenever we recall them. Perhaps it was a foolish comment in a crowd, an insult that we slung and never dared retrieve. Perhaps the mind clings to an old relationship, where friendship, faithfulness, or trust corroded into bitter rust.

It is our shame, and just behind our bright bravado is the guilt that always trails after. A hundred times we beat ourselves, but neither tears nor lectures to the mirror can lighten what we carry.

Hear what the gospel offers: “God, in His grace, freely makes us right in His sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty for our sins. For God presented Jesus as the sacrifice for sin” (Rom 3:24-25). He who had no cause for shame, who never knew regret for something He had done, took on Himself the guilt of generations. “For the joy set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb 12:2). Only grand, audacious grace could lift the burden from our backs and free us from the tyranny of shame.

Grace is God’s answer for regret. The shame can end: the blame can cease.

Embrace His grace. And stay in it.

—Bill Knott

The Joy to Journey On

“Help us to have a good time going to heaven.”

The child’s nervous prayer in church left all the worshippers amused. The urgent business of “going to heaven” is almost never paired with having “a good time.” We’re more accustomed to images of struggle, dark and painful pilgrimage, or battle with our vices—or ourselves.

But Jesus announced a different—better—way of going to heaven. “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly,” He said (John 10:10). “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed“ (John 8:36).

The grace made possible by Jesus will energize your here and your hereafter. If joys are never sweeter, if love is never deeper, if no laughter rises from your heart as you walk toward God’s new city, it’s a potent sign that you aren’t living in His grace. He who played with children and healed the broken and threw His arms around each prodigal intends your journey to His kingdom to be the best, most satisfying time of your whole life.

Grace makes the journey anything but grim. Re-learn Christ’s joy as you go walking with Him.

And stay in it.

 —Bill Knott

Good and Gracious

We call a cottage “gracious” if it boasts verandahs, sweeping lawns, and well-trimmed shrubbery. And what we mean is “easy on the eyes.”

We call a hostess “gracious” if her dinner party brims with well-dressed, laughing guests—if music is well-chosen; hors d'oeuvres are tasty, and waitstaff all attentive. And what we mean is “effortlessly elegant.”

But what when “gracious” equals “hard,” or “agonizing,”—even “deadly”?  The Lord who lived His graciousness suffered pain and mocking, nails and death—to win for us a freedom neither elegant nor easy.  “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly” (Rom 5:6).  Jesus drank the bitter cup till it was dry; endured the shame, the thirst, the cross; and earned the right to thus define what humans mean by “grace.”

Grace isn’t easy. It’s embracing. Accept the grip of hard-won grace. And stay in it.

—Bill Knott

Better Than Winning

The boss rolls out incentive plans for all whose sales climb 8 percent. And so we dig into the numbers, the sales calls, the lonely hours when others sleep.

The piano competition’s crowning moment offers hours or days of shiny fame. And so we hide ourselves in practice rooms until Bach or Brahms is memorized, or nearly so.

A vision of ourselves atop the podium, hoisting silver-plated trophies to the sky, will make us sweat and strain till muscles scream. Nothing comes without effort.

And so we learn the wrong theology, believing in our core that heaven is a prize for those who pray or fast or do good works beyond the measure of their peers. “Faster, Higher, Stronger” pushes out the grace that saves through faith.

“I am the way, the truth, and the life” Jesus said. “No one can come to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6). “By grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Eph 2:8).

All that’s done will never earn what grace has won. So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Going Overboard

If all the guilt of all who ever lived was gathered together and thrown into the sea—it would be a wonderful thing. And that’s just what a gracious God still offers us: “Once again you will have compassion on us,” an ancient prophet rejoiced. “You will trample our sins under Your feet and throw them into the depths of the ocean!” (Micah 7:19)

What gives a gracious Father the right to bury the record of our mistakes where no one can find them? Just this: our willingness to let Jesus carry on Himself the weight that has been crushing us. “This is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

By grace, our shame will sink like lead beyond the reach of light. Our foolish sins can all be buried in the Mariana Trench. The pain we’ve carried far too long will decompose among the bottom dwellers. 

A new and joyful life awaits us—unworried by our past; unburdened from our sins. We’re moved by grace to think differently, feel passionately, and live abundantly.

Grace pushes all your guilty cargo overboard. So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

The News We Need

Rising oceans levels will inundate many coastal cities within 50 years. . . . Inflation is galloping at rates not seen since 1982. . . . Thousands of experienced teachers are leaving their profession. . . .

The drumbeat of the daily news is ominous and urgent. Millions find the rhythm of distress and looming disaster both bewitching and exhausting. We dare not miss the hot headline, the “world alert” from media that have addicted us to constant threat and danger. Stay worried, anxious, always vigilant. When all the world’s on fire, how dare we sleep in innocence?

Yet Jesus says, “I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid” (John 14:27). The news that we can’t live without is good—indescribably good. The gospel is the promise that our broken, bungled lives can be repaired and healed by God’s unfailing love. “I have swept away your sins like a cloud,” God says. “I have scattered your offenses like the morning mist. Oh, return to me, for I have paid the price to set you free” (Isaiah 44:22).

Grace is the best news ever—and for always. So stay in it.

—Bill Knott

Love Beyond Our Limits

It’s easy to be gracious to the gracious—to those who recognize their fault and seek to make amends. It tasks our virtue less than third grade math might task a physicist.

But let the one who wounded us be hostile or impenitent—and we will struggle like an eight-year-old confronted with a theorem. Our greater “virtue” goes unrecognized by unrepentant sinners. We bite our lips to keep from saying what we know—that all the fault is theirs; that we were always right.

So Jesus challenges us with God’s much higher standard: “If you love only those who love you, why should you get credit for that? Even sinners love those who love them! . . . Love your enemies! Do good to them. Lend to them without expecting to be repaid” (Luke 6:32, 35).

And so we glimpse the heart of God, who in the chaos of our stubbornness still offers us forgiveness—wholeheartedly and kindly: “Yet God, in His grace, freely makes us right in His sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty for our sins” (Rom 3:24).

Grace is God’s strange gift to us, and not a virtue we acquire by practice or devotion. His kindness brings about our kindness, and we forgive as we have been forgiven.

Receive His gift. And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Seeing a New Constellation

So what is love, but a way of knowing that the universe is not the random, unconfigured emptiness that made us feel lonely?  And what is grace, but a way of seeing all of it—the little joys, the grand exhilarations, the trusting friendships we form—as part of one great plan unfolding for our good?

Grace didn’t start when we discovered it—when we were suddenly aware we needed hope and freedom, when the crushing weight of our mistakes was taken off our backs.  God’s deep and saving care for each of us was just as true when we were blind to it, and when our arrogance declared we were the masters of our fate.  In all those long and desperate nights we fought with life and tried to force the future to our will, God still was “compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love” (Psa 103:8).

The arc of all we know is toward the love that will not let us go.  Behind each moment, in each day, through all the setbacks and successes, grace has been preparing us for joy, for peace, for trusting love. 

Why wait another hour to let your life align—again—with all that Christ is doing?  “I am the one who is, who always was, and who is still to come,” He says (Rev 1:8).

Receive the grace that always has been there for you. And stay in it.

—Bill Knott

Getting Past Regret

GETTING PAST REGRET

We stare at photos of our classmates from yesteryear, remembering the giftedness, the ring of laughter, the endless optimism.  We were—in no particular order—going to change the world; work for peace; be millionaires by 30; vault to the corporate ladder’s top; marry wise and beautiful people; take wonderful vacations.   Life seemed an endless banquet.

But now we’ve learned how tough the world is.  We’ve tasted bitterness and sorrow.  We’ve watched great loves grow cold and vanish like the smoke.  The competition still exhausts us—to get ahead, or just catch up. A thousand times we ask ourselves, “What might have been?”

Regret is still our lowest common denominator.  By someone’s scale, we should have achieved more, experienced more, acquired more by now.  And when we think of all we’ve promised God, remorse grows even deeper.

Which is why we must listen to the gospel—often.  No one else is saying what the Father always says:  “Though your sins are like scarlet, I will make them as white as snow” (Isa 1:18).  “He does not treat us as our sins deserve or repay us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is His love for those who fear Him” (Psa 103:10-11).

Only grace can overcome regret.   With Paul, we practice that abundant life that Jesus came to give us:  “I do this one thing: I forget about the things behind me and reach out for the things ahead of me” (Phil 2:13).

Now stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Answering the Question

The accolades descend like tickertape. The headlines trumpet “talent,” “breakthrough innovation,” even “genius.” The penthouse suite no longer holds his new-found friends, who wait for selfie moments with the star. But in his heart of hearts he asks, “Am I really loved for me?”

Her performance brings the critics to their knees. “A soaring voice,” “a perfect portrayal of opera’s most tragic heroine,” “a triumph,” “a revelation.” But when the final curtain call is done and all the great reviews are folded, she wonders, “Am I really loved for me?”

It’s the question that never goes away—a deep uncertainty lingering beyond the money, power, skill or fame. And even well-meant promises from lovers, colleagues, friends and crowds don’t fill the emptiness within.

Jesus says, “I have loved you just as My Father has loved Me” (Jn 15:9). “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them” (2 Cor 5:19). “God proves His love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8).

We never tire of learning that we’re loved—at our best, at our worst; in our doing—and undoing. We may be brilliant, broken, blessed or bruised, but “with Him there is no alteration or shadow caused by change” (James 1:17).

The old song urged, “The gospel in a word is ‘love.’” Hear that melody again, and let yourself believe. 

And stay in grace.

Fixing What's Broken

If it were up to us, we’d save the world with money—lots of money—distributed to give each person food to eat and shelter from the storms.

If it were up to us, we’d save the world through education—teaching children how to read, filling schools and universities—for knowledge has advantages.

If it were up to us, we’d save the world by banning war—undoing arsenals, dissolving armies, teaching skills of compromise.

All these are good: we’ve tried them all. Yet still we wrestle—endlessly—with poverty, injustice, and the violence they breed. The vast inequities of life defy our grandest visions.

God says, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways” (Isa 55:8). He who knows us best and loves us most will save the world His way.

“For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). “God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners” (Rom 5:8).

Grace is God’s answer to our broken, messed-up world, for grace addresses all that causes hunger, homelessness and war. God heals the heart, and then, in turn, our minds, our bodies, and communities.

Begin with grace, and watch the world change. And stay in it.

—Bill Knott

Unresolved

The diet lasts a dozen days. The treadmill hasn’t spun 10 miles. The Bible sits where it was left, unopened and unsavored.  We grieve the effortless unraveling of all the goals we wanted to achieve—to lose the weight; increase the steps; find hope and quiet in God’s Word.  

 We are too close to dreams undone, to lofty visions gone awry.

 So how does God address our lack of grit and gratitude? 

 “I will be faithful to you and make you Mine, and you will finally know Me as the Lord,” God says (Hosea 2:20). “He knows our frame,” the psalmist says. “He remembers we are dust” (Psa 103:14).

 And so Christ came, to walk our dust, to know our pain, to understand how irresolute we are.  “This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for He faced all of the same testings we do, yet He did not sin” (Heb 4:15).

 Grace always moves toward us, redeems our goals, and tells us we are loved.  We fall in step with One who holds us when we stumble.  He is resolved when we are not, and faithful when we wander.

Receive His strength.  And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Come All, Come Now

O come, all ye faithful,
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem. 

But we are not all joyful;
And we are not all faithful.
“Triumphant” is a claim that stays
A year or two—or ten—away.
We’ve lost the cadence in our rhyme;
We’ve lost the ones we loved to time
Or dimming memory or disease—
Where is this house of bread and ease?
Yet still we tread with hope that clings;
We murmur faith and barely sing
On each hard day, through each dark night:
“There is a God who makes things right.” 

O come, ye worried and undone;
O come, ye who have often run.
O come, ye broken and confused;
O come, ye bullied and abused.
O come, when sin requires grace;
O come, when you have missed the race.
Yes, come, ye doubters, restless souls—
This Child will live to make you whole.

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

The Wisdom of Grace

A billion Christmas cards will picture them—these Magi, wise men from the East—with camels, sand, and one bright star.  They traveled once to find a Child: we travel now to share our gadgets, eat too well, and put the fading year behind us.

But theirs’ was not a trip: it was a quest—a deep displacement of their lives because they guessed the Child they sought would heal their wounds; relight their skies; upend what they had previously called “wise.” They staked their reputations, privileges and wealth on finding One whose value system overturns the world.  “He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Cor 1:30).

“And they bowed down and worshipped Him” (Matt 2:11). Praise was the real gift they brought, for no one ever outgives grace.

Be wise this Christmas, even if you never move a mile. And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Room at the Inn

The storybooks of Christmas brim with narratives of hidden visits and secret surveys of our kindness. In our extravagance and parties, Jesus visits those who bear His name disguised as a destitute old man, a homeless young woman, or a lonely child shut out from all the feasting and the revelry.

And we lower our heads, and promise to do better, and actually drop our extra change into the Salvation Army bucket when we leave the stores, laden with our gifts.

But the truest narrative of Christmas is about the gift of presence—God with us, for us—Immanuel who will not let us go. It is the gracious presence of our God we celebrate at Christmas: He walked our streets; He ate our food; He knew hard work and sweat and pain; He celebrated friendship.

Grace is the gift of presence, not of presents. Christ became a human to erase our loneliness, our fear, our dread. “His life brought light to everyone” (John 1:4).

Welcome Him—again—into the inn of your soul. And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott