Brennan Manning in his classic book on grace, The Ragamuffin Gospel, tells of a man named ‘Max’ (who was part of his AA group) and their counsellor, Sean Murphy-O’Connor. Sean, a senior staff member and skilled counsellor, put Max in ‘the hot seat’ and opened his quest for the truth by asking, ‘How long have you been drinking like a pig?’ Right from the start, Max did not appreciate Sean’s direct approach nor the probing questions he asked. All through the investigation Max proudly tried to maintain his reputation and dignity. He excused, down-played, rationalised and covered up every attempt by Sean and the rest of the AA group to uncover the ugly truth. Finally, Sean made a call on speaker phone to Max’s wife. He asked her for details of an incident last Christmas Eve that Max had alluded to, but refused to discuss, regarding their 9-year-old daughter Debbie.
In tears she retold the story. After picking Debbie up from Christmas shopping around 3 pm Max decided to stop by the local tavern for a few drinks. He left Debbie in his pickup truck and told her he would be right out. It was winter, so he left the motor running and locked the doors from the outside so no-one could get in. Inside the tavern Max ran into some old army buddies and decided to celebrate. Losing track of time, he finally stumbled out of the tavern at midnight to discover the pickup truck’s motor had stopped running and the windows were frozen shut. Debbie spent Christmas day in hospital. She lost her hearing and her frostbitten thumb and forefinger were amputated.
As Max’s wife emotionally finished the story he collapsed to the floor and started sobbing hysterically. Sean instructed everyone to leave. Manning describes what happened next: ‘No man will ever forget what he saw that day, the 24th of April at exactly high noon. Max was still in the doggie position. His sobs soared to shrieks. Murphy-O’Connor approached him, pressed his foot against Max’s rib cage and pushed. Max rolled over on his back. “You unspeakable slime,” Murphy-O’Connor roared. “There’s the door on your right and the window on your left. Take whichever is fastest. Get out of here before I throw up. I am not running a rehab for liars!”’
When I read that story to a group at the rehab centre where I live it sure stirred up some emotion. One guy called Sean, the skilled counsellor, an a—-hole and others made comments about how little grace he had. It was clear the group fully sympathised with Max and thought Sean was harsh and knew nothing about grace. I was disappointed, not so much that they sympathised with a liar, but because they had no idea what true grace was.
And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. – John 1:14 (ESV)
Grace has a powerful partner, truth. Grace and truth are inseparable. Grace without truth is passive, powerless and ineffective. True grace is confronting and will not tolerate lies. It was true grace that confronted Max and exposed him as a liar. Sean Murphy-O’Connor knew something I too have come to realise from years of rehab work: it is utterly impossible to help a liar. Those who do not make friends with truth and admit their sin cannot be set free or cured.
True grace looks past temporary discomfort or pain. It has its sight focused on the cure. Grace is committed to salvation and will do whatever it takes, including pain, suffering and exposure to achieve that goal.
A number of years ago my father stumbled into a hospital in desperate need of medical attention. After an examination the doctor told him he would die if he didn’t have an emergency heart-bypass operation. My dad signed the forms and was rushed into surgery. The skilled surgeon started the life-saving operation by harvesting veins from the arm and leg. After inflicting those wounds, he then cut dad’s chest wide open, which included splitting his sternum!
The surgeon was not being mean and cruel by cutting my father up so much; he was doing what it took to save his life. Dad’s wounds, in particular his broken sternum, were painful injuries to recover from but they were necessary in order for him to live. True grace functions the same way, it will do whatever it takes to save us. Grace is not about getting away with sin. Grace is about saving us from sin and if it has to cut us up and break our bones to do so it will not hesitate.
In Acts 9 we read how Saul was ‘breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord’. He was on his way to Damascus to make arrests when he was confronted by the grace of God. This was no soft encounter. Saul was knocked to the ground and blinded. Jesus then demanded Saul give answer as to why he was persecuting Him. This may not fit the popular ‘gentle Jesus meek and mild’ approach, but this was the grace of God, doing what it took to turn Saul’s life around.
In case you are wondering what happened to Max after grace mercilessly exposed him as an arrogant liar, Brennan Manning tells us: ‘Later that day Max pleaded for and obtained permission to continue treatment. He proceeded to undergo the most striking personality change I have ever witnessed. He got honest and became more open, sincere, vulnerable, and affectionate than any man in the group.’
The grace Max received was not the weak, sin-protecting, ‘hope I didn’t offend you’ fake type. Max encountered true grace. It was strong and confronting and it saved his life. True grace is what saves us from ourselves. It breaks the chains of hell and rips us from the grip of sin and death. Indeed, it is by grace we are saved! (Ephesians 2:8)