An Old Dog In Malibu - Grace Is Amazing (Because We Aren't)

“Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” (Romans 5:20, ESV)

“And the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.” (1 Timothy 1:14, ESV)

“In him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, which he lavished upon us, in all wisdom and insight.” (Ephesians 1:7-8, ESV)

Paul writes to the church at Ephesus that God has “lavished” his grace upon us (1:8). The word is used of something given abundantly, even to excess, to the point of overflowing. Every time I read that word in the Bible, I think of an old dog named “Mercedes.”

It’s an unlikely name, given the way he looked and where he was found. But I suppose that the name itself reflects the nature of the gift given. True mercy often runs contrary to the expected, and the greatest acts of grace always smell of scandal.

My cousin Leslie – an adventurous, thoughtful, smart, and talented woman – holds a soft spot for animals. One afternoon, while driving along a stretch of road called Highway 19, she spotted a dog in the dried grass of the highway median and launched an instant crusade to save him. This was no curried and pedigreed show dog. No, this was a homeless and forsaken mongrel with skin stretched tight across his bones, fleas ravaging his lank frame, and patches of missing hair due to the mange.

Leslie pulled her car over and pursued the dog on foot. A law enforcement officer stopped to tell her that she could not park on the median; she promptly enlisted him to help her catch the dog and tossed her new pet onto the padded leather backseat of her car.

The next stop was the veterinarian’s office where instructions were given: “This is my dog. Clean him up, treat him for the ticks and mange, and give him his shots. I’ll be back to pick him up in a few days.” After collecting Mercedes from the vet, she put him on a plane and sent him to her parents’ home in Malibu, where he resides currently.

Not so long ago, I asked how the dog was doing. “He is doing well,” was the reply. “He loves to cross the fence into the yard next door and run around and play. I guess it is ok for him to do that, but it has not been discussed with the neighbor.”

“Oh, so who is your neighbor?” I asked.

“Bob Dylan.”

Can we all just take a moment and consider this narrative from a dog’s point of view? For if dogs had an oral history, told and retold to the aged and pups alike while bones were gnawed around the midnight fires of the hunting camps, Mercedes would be a canine legend…

A dog, clearly rejected and abandoned, forages for cast-off bits of food in the dusty grass along a highway. He is a survivor being consumed by hunger from within and parasites from without. Appearing suddenly, a woman pursues him and snatches him from the life he knows. A short time later, he finds himself surrounded by the bright lights and stark walls of the vet’s office. Needles are pressed into his muscles, medicines are sprayed on his skin, and a wire enclosure becomes home for a time. It seems that his freedom might have been taken, both with speed and finality. He is shuffled to another enclosure in the hold of an airliner for what we can safely assume is his first ever experience of flight. The dog is transported to another land, to another life. Touching down and emerging from the dark belly of the machine, he is welcomed into the arms of a family never before seen. Now he has the joy of playing on the palatial grounds belonging to a Nobel Prize recipient who is one of the most influential creative artists in modern history. The dog is not concerned with the pristine coastline surrounding him, the exclusive boutiques, or the celebrity status of the neighbor next door; all he knows is that he eats well, sleeps in peace, and moreover, is deeply loved.

Such a surreal turn of events altogether sounds like a Bob Dylan song.

We do not get what we deserve yet receive what we could never earn. That is grace.

This I know to be true: the distance between the median of Highway 19 to Bob Dylan’s lawn is far shorter than the distance between where I was before I knew Christ and where I am now due to the lavish grace of Jesus.

Reflection:

1. Peter urges his readers to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18). What are some practical ways you can grow in the grace of Jesus?
2. Do you ever find it difficult to grasp the magnitude of grace given to you? How do you usually respond to the lavish grace extended to you?