To speak of the riches of God’s great grace is to look into the gospel. If you read this, if you experience this song, then you too enter into the amazing riches of his great grace: not just what he has done, but the wonder that this grace extends to you.
I mean, what he’s done can’t be exhausted by words. God’s everlasting mighty love, poured out on us in the person of Jesus. His life. His sacrifice. His suffering. His conquering of sin and death. His blood that purchased our salvation.
All of these truths are framed by one that this song highlights: first, that we get to even know it; second, that we get to experience it.
We, that’s you and me. We, lost and without hope. We, strangers and far away from the promises of God. We, weak not strong, broken not whole, rebels not humble, ugly and wicked and dead. Dead because we were dead-set on our own striving to earn heaven, our own effort to obtain what can never be obtained by us.
To sing this song is to enter into the wonder that God went outside the camp. Jesus touched lepers and the blind and the weak and the lost. And in that group were you and me. Plagued, unseeing, debilitated, bewildered, entirely unworthy, even dead without him.
So let the gospel be the song we sing. The good news that the work is finished, the victory accomplished, totally outside of us—and yet including us.
Thus we call ourselves children, his holy church, victorious, righteous, with God as our portion and our strength.
May we never forget our humble state in ourselves, or the great grace by which we, together, stand. As we praise the one who freely gave, that we might live in him.
“And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, ‘let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord’” (1 Corinthians 1:30-31).