Somehow I cannot relate to a filthy rag until I had to change a toddler’s diaper. Smelly, yucky and nasty.
Ironically, that’s exactly how my righteousness look like.
Maybe even worse.
But what I cannot come to grasp with is God. Why in His High, Almighty, All-Powerful state would send His son –equally preeminent as He –would stoop down so low to clean me up. Take all my slime and grime and muck. And dress me in brand spanking new clothes called, His Righteousness.
What I done to deserve it?
Nothing.
Who am I to get such kind of royal treatment?
To my eyes, I’m nothing.
Yet to God, I am everything.
I don’t get it.
Maybe I should ask Rahab and Mary. Ooooh, and that woman at the well who had five husbands. Filthy women — as history would recall their story. But. But. But. Their careers took a major pivot when they came into the presence of God’s undiluted love. Their lives never the same when they came in contact with Jesus.
I still don’t get it.
How about I inquire from the nameless guy who goes to the temple day in and day out to offer a sin offering. Who looks forward to that one day in the year when all his sins are all brought to the second apartment of the sanctuary. Who anticipates the coming of the real Lamb that will make him….
Clean. Forgiven. Shameless.
Or in the words of Zinzendorf’s hymn:
I may never fully comprehend it, but here is what I know,
“For He hath made Him to be sin for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the righteousness of God in Him.” 2 Cor 5:21
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