But God . . .
But God . . .
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.
I could give you a million and one reasons why I’m not qualified to serve God. I could tell you about my past struggles—when an eating disorder almost took my life, when anxiety robbed me of peace, when at my lowest moment I wondered if death might be the only path to freedom from panic attacks, and when (on many occasions) I’ve doubted God’s goodness.
I could easily recite my shortcomings because I know them all too well—and often rehearse them to myself. There’s only one reason I don’t harp on all my failures and won’t stop using what God has given me for his glory. It’s found in two small words in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians: but God.
The gospel hinges on this conjunction. It is the door of hope swinging wide open, dispersing a burst of light that overcomes the darkness in our hearts. When put together, the phrase “but God” packs dynamite power capable of decimating the grip of past transgressions and stubborn strongholds, and silencing the deafening accusations of the enemy.
To summarize an earth-shattering, life-altering truth in the simplest way: the gospel of Jesus Christ changes everything about our past, our present, and our future. This truth is built on the foundation of the two words but God.
Theologian Timothy Keller writes, “The gospel is this: We are more sinful and flawed in ourselves than we ever dared believe, yet at the very same time we are more loved and accepted in Jesus Christ than we ever dared hope.”a I did absolutely nothing to earn the love of God, and there is nothing I can do to lessen the gravity of his grace in Jesus Christ.
Ephesians 2:1-3 exposes the plight of every human being apart from Christ’s redemptive work: “You were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.”
Dead. Sons of disobedience. Children of wrath. This is who we were before God opened the door of hope through Christ’s work on the cross. But this is no longer who we are—not because of anything we have done but because of what God has done through his Son, Jesus. “But God” changes everything.
But God, being rich in mercy . . .
But God, because of the great love with which he loved us . . .
But God, even when we were dead in our trespasses . . .
But God made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.
Salvation does not hinge on what we can or cannot accomplish. It does not hinge on our past sins or our present goodness. Salvation hinges on Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. He gave his life to raise us from the dead.
“But God” changes everything—this is the good news of the gospel.
Word before World Because of God’s saving grace and steadfast love, we are no longer defined by our past sins.
Grow in Grace When you start to rehearse your sins, instead remember these two words that are good news every single day: but God.
a [1] Timothy Keller, The Meaning of Marriage: Facing the Complexities of Commitment with the Wisdom of God (New York: Penguin Books, 2013), 44.
