A man came to see the great German theologian, Martin Luther. The young adult was afraid that he might be committing a sin and end up being punished and sent to eternal fire for something he didn’t even realize he was doing wrong. He was overwhelmed with worry. Luther could hardly contain himself. He looked right at him and said, “SIN BOLDLY MY SON, SIN BOLDLY!”

Luther’s point is this: A life lived in fear is no life at all. Luther, like the Apostle Paul, wants us to see that God is not some heavenly bookkeeper with pencil sharpened, keeping track of every little slip up. Luther’s command to sin boldly was not a direction to live immorally but rather an invitation to live life to its fullest.

Back in my youth ministry days I told that story in the pulpit. A mom, whose wild and crazy little 9-year-old was a member of our Christian Kids Fellowship, did not like the story. She complained and said, “You’ve given Johnny permission to sin.” I said, “Up to this point in his life Johnny has not needed my permission to be a sinner!” I softened a bit and said to her, “The good news of the Bible is the fact that God loves little Johnny, and you and me, too, no matter what.”

Kathleen Norris, author of the book, Amazing Grace, isn’t so sure that we want a God like this, a God who comes after us, a God who assaults us in the middle of the night, a God who gives us grace whether we want it or not. She writes:

“One so often hears people say, ‘I just can’t handle it,’ when they reject a biblical image of God as Father, as Mother, as Lord or Judge; God as Lover, as angry or jealous, God on a cross. I find this choice of words revealing, however real the pain they reflect: if we seek a God we can ‘handle,’ that will be exactly what we get. A God we can manipulate, suspiciously like ourselves, the wideness of whose mercy we’ve cut down to size.”

We don’t need a safe God, we need one who is larger and holier and maybe even down-right more dangerous than ourselves. Maybe, when we are ready to wrestle with that One, we will discover the blessing that is waiting.

Too often we live in fear when in reality God simply wants us to be the person we were created to become. Soren Kierkegaard prays, “Now with God’s help, I shall become myself.”

Grace and peace to you,

Glen