We're All Assholes Sometimes

I'm not totally comfortable with some of the evangelical-speak here, but the underlying theological content really resonates with me. David Kuo reflects on being a bad father and a bad husband:

I know the theory of grace. I know that it is sufficient. I understand that, as Bono says, “Karma is the law of the universe; except for grace.” I get it — intellectually at least — that when I sin I do not need to go away and pretty myself up and then go to God. When I am at my worst, when I have done my worst, I run to my Daddy in Heaven because that is what he wants.

I get it that Jesus bought all of my sinfulness on the cross. I get it that he purchased my sins forward. 2,000 years ago he bought my sins of this day.

I get it all. But I don’t know how to de-skewer myself.

This morning, I relayed parts of the story to a friend. This is a good man. A godly man. A good and godly man. He dismissed me. “We’re all assholes sometimes. OK, I gotta run.” He hung up.  I stared at the phone.

There wasn’t nearly enough punitiveness in that response. I needed more condemnation. I needed to have no excuses. How could this man dismiss my ass-ness that cavalierly?

But as this day has drawn on, I have begun to realize that my friend’s voice was the embodiment of my theoretical knowledge about grace. Yup, I’d been an ass. Next.

Since I spend much of my day convinced that I'm the worst father on earth, it's nice to be reminded of these things. You fuck up. You acknowledge the fuckup, then move on and try not to fuck up again ... but you will.