Unworthy but Chosen

Unworthy But Chosen: The Truth About Sin, Grace, and What God Really Thinks of You

Have you ever felt like you've done too much, gone too far, or fallen too short for God to really want anything to do with you? Or maybe you're on the other end — you've been living pretty well, doing good things, helping people, and you figure that's got to count for something. Either way, I want to talk to you today, because both of those positions miss something absolutely foundational about who God is and who we are.

What the Bible Actually Says About Sin

We've been in a series about getting back to the foundation — back to thus says the Lord. And one of the things our world has completely redefined is sin. So let me give you a clean definition.

Sin is anything that grieves the heart of the Father.

That's it. Anything that grieves the heart of the Father. We like to label sin, don't we? We make some sins out to be worse than others. "Oh, that was a bad one. That was just a white lie." And in our world today, we've started saying sin is in the eye of the beholder — that what's right for me may not be right for you, and as long as I'm not hurting anybody, I can do whatever I want.

But here's the thing: you can be hurting no one around you and still be grieving the heart of God.

I've dealt with an inferiority complex most of my life — this idea that I'm not good enough, not intelligent enough, not enough of anything. I worked longer than anybody else in my corporate world. Why? Because I had to prove myself. My identity was found in what other people said about me. Do you know that was a sin? I wasn't hurting anybody. I was getting promotions. But anytime I look at myself as less than what God has called me to be — that's a sin. When I think I'm unworthy, it's a sin. When I believe I can't be used by God, it's a sin.

As a dad, anytime I see my daughter living below her potential, it grieves my heart. That's exactly what we do to our Heavenly Father when we don't walk in who He's made us to be. He created us for good works — His works, not ours — works He prepared for us to do.

For All Have Sinned — And That's Actually Good News

In Romans 3:23, the Apostle Paul writes to the church in Rome, "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." Paul is establishing an equality here. You can look at your neighbor — they've sinned. You can look across the aisle — they've sinned. I've sinned. We've all sinned. We've all failed to be image bearers of God.

But here's where it gets good. Romans 3:24 continues, "and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus."

Justified. That means treated as if you've never sinned.

I could write a book on the sins I've committed. But to God, because of the blood of Jesus Christ, because of what He's done, I am now justified — as if I have never sinned. Not because I paid a price. Not because I did anything special. Not because of who I am, but because of who He is.

Grace Is Not Kohl's Cash

The world tells us that as long as we do enough good things, we can outweigh the bad. Give to charity, help people, do ministry — surely that balances the scales. But Romans 3:23 is clear: all have sinned and fall short, and there is nothing you can do about it on your own. Your good works are, as Scripture calls them, filthy rags.

But His grace — Romans 3:24 calls it a gift. A gift. And unlike Kohl's Cash, grace doesn't have an expiration date. There are no strings attached. You don't have to spend a hundred dollars to earn ten dollars of grace. You don't have to work so hard. You just have to go to Him.

Just as I am — broke, busted, and disgusted. Everything I am, God, here it is. I've got nothing but my hallelujah.

And He says, "I want to give you this free gift of grace so that you are justified — so I can treat you as if you've never sinned."

The Mercy Seat and What It Means for You

Romans 3:25 uses a word that Paul, writing in Greek, only uses once in the entire New Testament: propitiation (the Greek word hilastērion). When a Biblical writer uses a word only once, pay attention — it matters.

This same word appears in Hebrews 9:5 as "mercy seat" — the covering of the Ark of the Covenant in the Old Testament. In the ancient Israelite worship system, once a year the high priest would enter the most sacred room — the Holy of Holies — and sprinkle blood on the mercy seat. This was the place where God would meet His people. The blood made it holy, a place where God's presence could come.

Paul says in Romans 3:25 that Christ became the blood on the mercy seat — so that God could visit you. Jesus sprinkled His blood on us, for eternity, so that when God looks at you, He sees a place where His presence can reside. You were designed to be a place where God's presence dwells.

No longer just in a temple. No longer just at the Ark. God can actually visit you — speak to you, walk with you, be in and amongst you.

God Is Not Hiding — He's Already Parked in Your Path

Here's something I want you to understand: we've gotten to this place where we think we have to go find God somewhere, like He's hiding. But I'll tell you — He is the worst hide-and-seek player ever. He hides in plain sight.

Think about the stories of Jesus. Most of the time, it wasn't people looking for Jesus — He came to them. There's a story in the Gospel of John, chapter 4, where Jesus goes out of His way to pass through Samaria, sits down at a well, and waits for a woman who would be there. She wasn't seeking Him. He was seeking her. He just knew where she was going to be.

That's what He does for you. He's already parked Himself along your path. He's hiding in plain sight. But when we wallow in our sin, when we have tunnel vision on our misery, we'll never see Him — even though He's positioned Himself perfectly in our way, saying, "I've come here to redeem you. You are no longer a prisoner of war. I've come to take you out of that struggle, those heartaches, that darkness."

Unworthy — But Chosen

Here's something that might bother you, but I need to say it clearly: I have never become worthy. I have been declared worthy. I have been treated as worthy. But I am not worthy on my own.

A few years ago I heard someone on a Christian radio station say, "I want you to know today that you are worthy." And I had to call the station. Because at no point have you ever been worthy, and at no point will you ever be worthy on your own. Worthy says I've done something by myself. And I want to tell you — you cannot take a step without Jesus, because a step without God is an unworthy step.

The only difference between me and anyone else — the drug addict, the atheist, anyone — is this: one day I heard that Jesus Christ was walking by and He said, "I've called you. Will you hear me?"

That's it. I am unworthy and I am chosen. But He chose us all. The problem is not everyone has heard and responded.

As Paul writes in Philippians 3:8-11, "Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith — that I may know him and the power of his resurrection."

The power of the resurrection changed eternity forever. The crucifixion would have meant nothing without the resurrection. And that resurrection changed your eternity — your ability to know Him, to be with Him, was secured in that moment.

Putting It Into Practice

So what does all this mean for how we actually live? Here's what I want to leave you with:

1. Redefine sin in your own life. Stop measuring sin by whether anyone got hurt. Start asking: Am I grieving the heart of the Father? That includes how you think about yourself, how you treat others, and whether you're walking in who God has called you to be.

2. Stop beating yourself up. Jesus already paid the sacrifice. You don't have to keep dragging your sins back to the altar as if He didn't finish the job. He sprinkled you clean — for eternity. Stop letting your sin pull you out of the relationship God wants to have with you.

3. Walk like who you are. Head up, shoulders back, walk with a purpose. You are a child of the Most High King. When you accepted Jesus Christ as your Savior, you were no longer an enemy of God — you became His son, His daughter. Live like it.

4. Open your eyes to where God already is. He's not hiding. He's parked Himself in your path. In your struggles, in your anxiety, in your darkest nights — He's already there. Ask Him to give you eyes to see Him.

5. Never take grace for granted. Grace is a free gift with no expiration date and no strings attached — but the minute we start thinking we're worthy of it, we've missed the whole point. Wake up every morning and go to sleep every night saying, "God, I can't believe you saved a wretch like me. Help me never take that for granted."

The world desperately needs to hear this message. But I can't tell them about a loving Father if I'm not sure He's a loving Father. I can't tell them He's washed away all my sins if I'm still carrying mine around. So Church — let's get back to the foundation. Let's be the vessels He's called us to be. Because He's chosen us, He's redeemed us, and He desires to reside in us.

I was saved. I am saved. And I will be saved. Not because of anything I've done — but because of everything He is.