Grace Makes Room

A sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Pentecost: Proper 8
June 28, 2026, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Jeremiah 28:5-9; Psalm 89:1-4,15-18; Romans 6:12-23; Matthew 10:40-42

I got myself into trouble during Sunday school. The pastor’s wife had come to teach the youth group. I do not really remember what we were talking about, but I do remember that, at some point in the conversation, I got frustrated. I was frustrated because everyone seemed to be blaming the devil for everything. They were saying, “It’s hard to follow Jesus because the devil is always on my back.” And they were saying, “I try really hard, but then the devil comes along and makes me do what I don’t want to do.” I have to confess: I’ve never liked the time-tested the-devil-made-me-do-it excuse. And I said so. “I think we give the devil too much credit,” I said. “I’m not sure he’s ever tempted me one way or another. I can get myself in trouble all by myself, and I don’t need his help.” As I remember it, the pastor’s wife and the rest of the class didn’t really know what to say about that, other than to assure me that it was, in fact, all the devil’s fault. Sunday school ended early that day. 

For what it’s worth, I still believe that. I believe that I get myself into trouble far more than demons hiding in the corner. If the devil comes sniffing around, he doesn’t have to try too hard. I can be prideful and arrogant all by myself. I can hold a grudge and refuse to forgive as I’ve been forgiven all by myself. I can give into despair and stop trusting God all by myself. I can hurt my neighbor and forget to love the Lord my God all by myself. I’m pretty proficient in all of that. St. Paul will say it this way in Romans 7: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.” All by myself.

St. Paul is wrestling with this in our reading from Romans today. Romans starts out with a pretty simple declaration: All are sinners. We all fall short. We all fail to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. We all fail to love our neighbors as ourselves. Truthfully, we get ourselves into trouble all by ourselves. But St. Paul doesn’t leave us there. He goes on to say that through Jesus Christ, we have been given grace–the favor of God. We cannot earn this grace (remember, we have all fallen short), but Jesus Christ has accomplished it for us. Through Jesus Christ and his perfect life, death, and resurrection, we have been made children of God, heirs of heaven. We have been brought into the life of grace and set on the path of sanctification, of growing in holiness and virtue through the Holy Spirit. 

But if you’ve been a Christian for five minutes, you know, just like I know, that we will still fall short. We are under grace, but sin is still there. We are under grace, but we still go our own way. We are under grace, but we are far from perfect. We get ourselves into trouble–all by ourselves. The devil didn’t make us do it; we just fell short because of our own choices. That’s me; that’s you; that’s every child of earth. 

But grace means that God doesn’t give up on us. Even when we fall short, even when we get ourselves into trouble, even when we become our own worst enemies, the grace of God is there to catch us. Forgiveness is abundant. Love is never-ceasing. What good news this is. 

But St. Paul also wants us to know: That does not mean that we just throw our hands up in the air and say it’s no use trying. We should not use grace as an excuse for laziness, for not trying to grow in virtue. He exhorts us today to keep fighting the good fight. Keep the faith. When we fall down, get back up. Don’t give up on God, because God won’t give up on you. He tells us, “present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and present your members to God as instruments of righteousness.” In other words, even when we fall, keep coming back to grace. Even when we get ourselves into trouble, run to Jesus. Even when we can’t get ourselves out of the hole we have dug, Christ is there calling us to himself, and through his grace and the power of the Holy Spirit, we can get up and keep walking in newness of life. And if we keep striving to live in this grace, surrendering daily to the Holy Spirit who sanctifies us and helps us grow in virtue, we will know eternal life. And eternal life is not just something that happens when we die. It happens right now, too. Because we learn what it’s like to live in grace, to live in love, to live in Jesus. 

Martin Luther said it this way. He said we are simul justus et peccator. We are, at the same time, sinners and justified. We are far from perfect; we must depend on God’s grace because we have a tendency to get ourselves into trouble; we never outgrow that need for grace; and God gives us grace in abundance. But not only that, God grants us power to walk differently in the world. 

I once heard a story about a man who ran up to a bishop walking down the street in New York City. The man ran up and accosted the bishop. He said, “I can’t believe you lead a church with so many hypocrites. What do you have to say for yourself?” The bishop smiled and said, “My friend, there’s always room for one more.”  

And thank goodness for that. Thank goodness that grace made room for this hypocrite. And thank goodness that grace made room for you. And thank goodness that grace keeps calling us back to mercy, even when we get ourselves into trouble. And thank goodness that grace keeps working on us, making us more like Jesus.