1 Timothy 1:12–14

 “I am grateful to Christ Jesus our Lord, who has given me strength, that he considered me trustworthy, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”

A young man reached out to me this week because he was worried that he was being too emotional about his faith in Jesus Christ. His question was simple, “Whenever I think about what Jesus has done for me I get emotional, sometimes I even tear up. Is it wrong for me to be overwhelmed with emotion when I consider God’s mercy and grace?”  He was worried that his emotion was a sign of weakness, or that he was leading with his emotion instead of his head. “Is this normal?” he asked me. I told him the truth: “Not only is it normal. I believe it is the only appropriate response when we deeply consider God’s unfathomable gift of grace.” Because what he was experiencing wasn’t emotion running wild. What he was experiencing was true worship. This young man was tasting what Paul tasted when he wrote those words to Timothy. Read those words carefully. Paul isn’t being eloquent. He’s not crafting a theological treatise. He’s being raw. He’s being honest about who he was and what he deserved. And yet, in Christ, he received God’s grace and mercy instead. Undeserved. Unearned. Poured out abundantly on someone who deserved the opposite. Here’s what creates that overwhelming gratitude: contrast. The gap between what you deserve and what you receive. Think about it. If someone gives you a simple gift, you say thank you politely. It’s pleasant. It’s appropriate. But it doesn’t break you. But if someone gives you something you absolutely don’t deserve—if they save your life when you were trying to destroy theirs, if they forgive you when you don’t even ask, if they give you mercy when they have every right to give you judgment—that breaks something open in you. That creates a gratitude that transcends explanation. Paul understood this. He knew exactly who he was. He knew exactly what he deserved. He had been a murderer. He had been an enemy of God. He had stood opposed to everything Jesus represented. And in that opposition, he had earned death. He had earned judgment. He had earned the wrath of God. But instead, he received grace poured out abundantly. That contrast—between what he deserved and what he received—that’s what created his overwhelming gratitude. That’s what moved him. 

But here’s something important: the world operates with a different kind of gratitude. The world says: “Be grateful for the good things that happen to you. Be thankful for your blessings. Appreciate what you have.” And that’s not bad. But it’s not gospel gratitude. A man gets a promotion at work and feels grateful. He worked hard. He earned it. He deserves it. So he’s grateful. But a man who deserved to be fired for his failures instead receives a raise and is kept on the team. A man who deserved to be cast out instead receives restoration. A man who deserved death instead receives life. That creates a different kind of gratitude. That creates a gratitude that breaks him. The world’s gratitude is polite. Gospel gratitude is overwhelming. The world’s gratitude is intellectual. Gospel gratitude is wordless. The world’s gratitude says, “Thank you for this nice thing.” Gospel gratitude says nothing at all. It just weeps. It just worships. It just stands speechless before the magnitude of undeserved mercy. This is what that young man was experiencing. He wasn’t having an emotional breakdown. He was worshipping. He was encountering the reality of grace so profoundly that his mind couldn’t process it. His words couldn’t contain it. His body was the only thing that could respond—with tears, with trembling. The sheer weight of God’s grace was too much to hold in. That’s not abnormal. That’s the most normal response a human being can have when they truly grasp what Jesus did. Think about what grace actually is. Grace is God looking at you—at your sin, your rebellion, your wickedness—and instead of giving you what you deserve, He gives you what you don’t deserve. He gives you forgiveness. He gives you restoration. He gives you a place in His family. He gives you eternal life. And not just gives it. Pours it out abundantly. Paul uses that phrase deliberately. Not “grace was given.” But “grace was poured out abundantly.” Like an overflowing cup. Like a river that can’t be contained. Like someone so determined to show you mercy that they’re not satisfied with just enough—they give you more than you could ever need or ask for. When you truly grasp that, when you really see the contrast between what you deserve and what you’ve received, gratitude doesn’t become a nice sentiment. Gratitude becomes worship. It becomes the fundamental posture of your soul before God. This is the pattern you see throughout Scripture. When people truly encounter grace—when they understand that they deserved judgment but received mercy instead—they don’t become eloquent. They become wordless. The woman who anoints Jesus’ feet with expensive perfume, weeping as she does it: she doesn’t explain herself. She can’t. The grace is too big. The mercy is too overwhelming. She just weeps and worships. Peter, when he experiences Jesus power and grace: “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” He’s not being eloquent. He’s being broken by the contrast between his wickedness and Jesus’ holiness, his unworthiness and Jesus’ grace. The Psalmist, over and over: “I will praise you, Lord, with all my heart… How great you are, Lord! There are no words to describe your greatness.” No words to describe. That’s gospel gratitude. That’s what happens when you truly grasp grace.

So I want to ask you something this week. Have you experienced that kind of gratitude? Have you allowed yourself to feel the overwhelming emotion that comes when you truly grasp what Jesus has done for you? Or have you become comfortable with grace? Have you begun to take it for granted? Have you moved grace from the center of your faith to the periphery, something you believe intellectually but don’t feel in your bones? Because if you have, I want to invite you to something. I want to invite you to stop and really consider what Paul considered. Really look at who you were. Really acknowledge what you deserved. Really understand that you merited judgment, that you earned death, that you had no claim on God’s mercy. And then—really grasp—that instead of judgment, you received mercy. Instead of death, you received life. Instead of rejection, you received adoption into God’s family. Instead of God’s wrath, you received God’s love poured out abundantly. Let that contrast break you. Let that reality overwhelm you. Let your gratitude move beyond politeness and into worship. Let yourself weep if you need to. Let yourself tremble. Let yourself stand speechless before the magnitude of what Jesus has done. Because that’s not weakness. That’s not emotionalism run amok. That’s worship. That’s gospel gratitude. That’s the beginning of understanding what it means to be saved by grace.

Father, open our eyes this week. Help us to see ourselves as we actually are—sinful, rebellious, deserving of judgment. And help us to see what we’ve received instead—mercy, forgiveness, grace poured out abundantly. Let the contrast break us. Let our gratitude become worship. And let us never become so comfortable with grace that we forget how incredible it is. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Yours in Christ, 

Pastor John