He Wants All of Us, Yet Asks for Nothing

“And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had.  They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need.  They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity—all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.”  — Acts 2:44–47 (NLT) 

Over the years, I have been told I am not a real Christian more times than I can count.  Usually, it comes after I have taken a stance that is unpopular in some corners of the Christian community.  I am not sharing that to walk through the list or to defend any of those positions.  I share it because those moments taught me something I still have to guard against, and it has less to do with my critics than with me.  When we are busy defending what we believe, it becomes surprisingly easy to forget who we serve. 

As a follower of Christ, I am called to hold myself to a higher standard.  That does not mean placing myself above anyone else, or believing the effort somehow makes me better than the people around me.  It is a relationship centered on One whose standard I will never fully meet, and yet I keep pursuing Him, trying to serve Him a little better each day.  In practice, that higher standard looks strangely backwards.  It means celebrating when someone else gets the job I applied for.  It means showing up for a friend who has not always shown up for me.  It means praying for someone who has caused me pain, because people who wound are often wounded themselves.  It even means choosing mercy in the very moment I could claim victory over someone I considered an enemy. 

When I think about it, that is exactly how Jesus has treated me, and I suspect each of us.  He does not keep score.  He does not rush to claim the glory in our moments of triumph.  He does not love us on the condition that we love Him back.  Paul put it simply: “God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners” (Romans 5:8).  While we were still sinners.  Before we had anything to offer.  When I sit with that long enough, it humbles me to the point of tears. 

But there is something more about this relationship.  He wants all of us, and yet He asks for nothing in return.  It is easy to get that wrong in one of two directions.  If we treat His grace as a free pass, we stop growing.  If we turn it into a checklist, it becomes a performance.  The better way is far simpler: to come as we are, with whatever we have, and say, “I know this isn’t what You deserve, and maybe not what I should give, but here it is.”  That is enough, because God sees the heart.  And a heart that is growing does not stay the same size.  What we once offered reluctantly, we eventually give freely, and then we find ourselves sharing it with others. 

That is the picture Luke paints of the early church in Acts 2.  Only weeks earlier, Peter had denied even knowing Jesus, and the disciples had argued over which of them was the greatest.  Many in that young community had believed for only a short time.  Yet Luke tells us they sold their property and possessions to meet one another’s needs, shared their meals “with great joy and generosity,” and spent their days praising God.  No one was keeping score.  No one was claiming the glory.  And notice who did the adding: “each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved.”  They brought what they had.  God did the growing. 

I must be honest that I do not always live there.  When I am criticized, my first instinct is to keep my own score, to remember who doubted me and to prove them wrong.  But those first believers did not change the world by winning arguments.  They changed it by giving themselves away, gladly, to God and to one another.  That is the life I want to grow into.  Not perfect, not polished, just open-handed. 

So perhaps the question is not whether we are giving enough.  Perhaps it is simply whether we are bringing what we have.  God did not wait for us to meet His standard before He loved us; He settled that at the cross.  He only asks us to come as we are and let Him grow the rest. 

Where have you been keeping score in a way Jesus never has with you?  What do you have today, however small, that you could simply bring to God and say, “Here it is?” 

A PRAYER 

My prayer is that we are thankful that the Lord loves us before we had anything to offer.  Forgive us for the times we keep score and the moments we forget whom we serve.  Today we bring You what we have, knowing it is not all You deserve.  Grow our hearts until we give freely and share gladly, the way Your people did from the beginning.  Amen.