Sermon in the Weight Room

The other day, I gave my first sermon in 3 years.

After 13 years of Sunday lessons, you can hold forth at the drop of a hat, or a barbell as the case may be.

I was in a weight room and my audience was the custodian.

I had seen him for several weeks. We exchanged pleasantries, but nothing else save one request about 3 weeks previously to pray for him.

I said I would, but didn’t tell him my background in the “praying business.”

He is about 25, a nice enough fellow, and reasonably happy with his job. Other than that, I don’t know anything about him.

The other day, I was weightlifting and he walked into the weight room.

Out of the proverbial blue, he said, “I never understood what “There, but for the Grace of God, go I’ means. What does that mean?”

I said, “Well, think about a guy in a wheelchair, a guy who gets killed in a head-on collision, or a guy in prison who ‘fell in with the wrong crowd.’ If not for the goodness of God, something like that could happen to you or I.

It’s an expression of being grateful for your current state of life, even if it is not perfect. It makes you count your blessings and be glad for the little things that you would otherwise take for granted.”

“What does “Grace” mean,” he asked.

I said, “It is the ever-available goodness of God, ‘the gift freely given,’ as Paul said, that we usually forget about.”

Grace is like being a bootlegger for 25 years only to discover the county you live in is wet anyway. Everything you needed was right there all along, you just didn’t know it.”

He laughed and seemed to understand. Then he went on his way.

But I realized how woefully out of practice I am.

I forgot to take an offering.