I read this good analogy about God’s love for us and the forgiveness we have in Jesus who died to pay for our sin.
(From “How Good is Good Enough?” by Andy Stanley)
When my children were very young, I bought a used Infiniti. It was the nicest car I have ever owned. It was in mint condition, and I intended to keep it that way. Unfortunately, I was alone in my pursuit.
One Saturday morning, as I was taking out the trash, I noticed something on the hood of my car. I walked over for a closer look and to my utter dismay discovered that someone had scratched an A into the paint. Besides the A were attempts at several other letters.
I was furious. Within seconds my two sons were standing beside me as I demanded to know who scratched up my car. For moment there was silence. Then Garrett, who was five at the time, piped up: “Allie did it.”
Allie, my youngest child and only daughter, was a whopping 3 1/2 years old. I called her out to the garage, pointed to my hood, and said, “Allie, did you do that?”
She sheepishly looked up at me and said, “Yes, sir, daddy.”
What was I going to do? There is no way in the world for me to explain to Allie the significance of what she had done and what it was going to cost me in dollars, time, and hassle to get it fixed. There’s no point in telling her that now I was going to have to take the car to the shop, rent a car, and pay for the rental car as well as the repair. She had no context for understanding any of that.
It would have been equally absurd to demand that Allie pay for the damage. Fair, maybe, but unrealistic. What this two or three hundred dollars mean to a three-year-old? The numbers wouldn’t even register. And where would she get the money?
So what do you do in that kind of situation? Sever the relationship? Demand payment? Rant and rave? Of course not.
I did the only thing I could do for someone I love as much as I loved her. I knelt down and said, “Allie, please do not do that anymore.”
She said, “Yes, sir, daddy.” Then she hugged me and went back inside.
I continue to love her as much as ever. And I pay for the damage she caused. I wasn’t concerned about fairness. It wasn’t appropriate to figure out what was fair. What was most appropriate with grace and mercy. Even as it meant that I have to pay for what she had done.
God sees your sin as a debt you can’t pay. There’s no point in asking you to. To think that being good will somehow make you square with God would be like Allie promising to clean up her room after being confronted with the damage she had done on my car. Cleaning up her room doesn’t pay me back. It’s a nice gesture, but it doesn’t fix my car.