To Live Like it’s Your Birthday

Your birthday is perhaps the only day in your life when people celebrate you for your sheer existence.

You did nothing to bring yourself into the world; just about all the effort on that front was on the part of your mother. You had pretty much no part to play in your own birth. Your birthday, therefore, is a time of celebration and rejoicing simply because you are here; simply because you exist. 

It’s no accident, then that the language of God’s grace in the Bible is the language of birth, of new life, of new existence in the world. The apostle Paul puts the grace-wrought life of the believer like this: “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself…” (2 Corinthians 5:17-18a, ESV)

Our reception of God’s grace, then, might be likened to the celebration of our birthday. Just as, on our birthday, we are made the recipient of rejoicing and celebration and gifts not because of any effort of our own, but simply because we exist, so it is with God’s grace. The Father has lavished His grace upon us, has given us every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, has predestined to adopt us as His sons and daughters (Ephesians 1:3-14), not because of any merit or effort of our own, but simply because He loved us even in spite of anything we have or haven’t done. Even before we were born, He knew us, He called us and set us apart by this grace (Galatians 1:15).

This Gospel of Grace changes everything. We are truly accepted and celebrated just as we. Our Father in Heaven rejoices over us, His new creations, not because we have done anything to deserve it, but because He delighted to bestow His grace upon us and adopt us as His own.

We didn’t bring ourselves into this new life, nor did we cause ourselves to be born into His grace. But, like an eternally recurring birthday, we are constantly the recipients of spiritual blessing upon spiritual blessing, grace upon grace, life in abundance, simply because the Father’s nature is to give.

We are grace-born children. We could never earn the Father’s blessing, yet He simply pours His love upon us without measure. Our identity is secure. He delights in you simply because you are you, and you are His. 

Abundant life begins with this scandalous truth. Our identity is secured by the work of Another, and His work cannot be undone. To be great by this world’s standard is to be constantly striving, constantly seeking approval from others, constantly working and toiling for a sense of value before the watching world. It is a wearying work, and it will never satisfy, for, in the world’s economy, you can always be better, stronger, richer, more popular, more successful, more beautiful, have more friends, have a bigger house, and so on.

In the economy of heaven, however, our identity is secure in the Father’s love, by His grace that demands no merit or achievement on our part.  Like a new-born baby, we are celebrated and loved simply because the Father is Love, without qualification. And this makes us truly free, because, when we know our identity to be eternally secure, we can forget ourselves altogether.

So much worry and anxiety and trouble comes from building our identity upon the approval of another. True freedom comes from the self-forgetfulness of grace, because our identity is rooted in the Father’s grace bestowed upon us like a birthday present we didn’t do anything to earn.

It was for this life of freedom that the Father set us free. Receive the gift.

 

Gratitude

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” James 1:17, ESV

A central component of expressing gratitude is what we do with the gift.

Why do I say this?

Recently I was making the half-hour walk to university, mulling over my various commitments, impending deadlines, upcoming assessments, mounting workload, and the like. I found myself grumbling to God about how pressured I felt right now with all the work I had to do, how burdened and weary and burnt-out I was getting with it all.  This complaint is, perhaps, familiar to you.

As I continued to grumble and moan, I was struck with a conviction that stopped me in my tracks.

In my attitude to my degree,  I’d effectively spat on a gift from God. 

This sounds dramatic and demands some qualifying. You see, what had been absent from my heart was thanksgiving – thanksgiving  for the massive gift of being a student on a degree programme in a top-class university. It’s an opportunity many people in this world would give anything for. In my grumbling, I’d totally trampled on this gift of grace from the Father – the immense privilege of spending three years of my life studying theology under leading scholars in the academy.

I don’t say any of this to brag – what grounds do I have for boasting when I stand here by the Father’s goodness and grace alone? – but to highlight a sobering realisation: the disdainful and careless manner in which I’d received a gift of God.

To reject a gift of God, to trample on a blessing, is like throwing a precious necklace to the bottom of a dusty jewellery cabinet where it’ll never be used, but doing so in the sight of the giver. When we even begin to grapple with just what a cost with which we were bought, how unfathomably, impossibly blessed we are in the Father as he lavishes his abundant grace on us, how can we not turn from selfish complaint into joyful, constant gratitude?

Clearly, I have a lot to learn in the area of thanksgiving. It calls for a total paradigm-shift: seeing through the superficial, surface-level concerns that obscure the reality of our abundant blessed-ness in God. The reality  that every day is a gift, wrapped and prepared by our good, good Father in Heaven. A gift to embrace and worship in gladness knowing that from him we have everything and to him must everything return as we honour and steward the gift with thankful, joyful hearts. It’s for this reason that the Psalmist can say,

This is the day that the Lord has made;

    let us rejoice and be glad in it. (Psalm 118:24)

It means our employment is a gift. Our families. Our friends. Our degrees and our opportunities to learn. Our places of dwelling. This goes beyond mere comparison – because comparison leads us to say either, “What I have is far better than what she has!” on the one hand, and on the other, “Why don’t I have what he does?” Comparison leads us to pride or envy. Thankfulness for gifts leads us to humility, humility as of children who rely on the Father for every good gift from above.

With gratitude comes freedom – because we’re no longer slaves to fear of loss, knowing that every good thing comes from the Father, that we’re children both dependent on him and assured a place at his table where we can be abundantly filled (Psalm 23:5, 6). It means even on the darkest of days, we know ourselves to be children in whom the Father delights, manifest in even the smallest yet most profound gift of breath in our lungs and a beating heart.

By grace alone we stand, apprehending our giving Father as awe-filled children. How can we not but bow with grateful hearts in joy-filled worship to him?