Psalm 36:5-9
Your steadfast love, O Lord, extends to the heavens, your faithfulness to the clouds. Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your judgments are like the great deep; you save humans and animals alike, O Lord. How precious is your steadfast love, O God! All people may take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light we see light.
Titus 3:3-7
For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, despicable, hating one another. But when the goodness and loving-kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit. This Spirit he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.
My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness; no merit of my own I claim, but wholly lean on Jesus’ name. On Christ, the solid rock, I stand; all other ground is sinking sand. –My Hope Is Built on Nothing Less. Text: Edward Mote, 1797-1874.
Righteousness seems like one of those churchy words that doesn’t show up in daily living. Do I spend time pondering my righteousness or lack of righteousness? No. Do I worry about doing the right thing—especially when it comes to my most significant relationships? Yes.
N.T. Wright describes biblical righteousness as not so much the abstract idea of justice or virtue, as right standing and consequent right behavior, within a community.1
Within the community of my marriage, my family, my circle of friends, my congregations, is my behavior right? Am I in right standing?
Well, some days are better than others, right?
I love unconditionally and selflessly, but then I turn around and do the most selfish thing imaginable. I exhibit incredible patience for days on end, but then in a flurry of rage and resentment I lose my temper. I’m intentional about putting the best possible spin on others’ behavior (they really are doing the best they can), but then my insecurities get the best of me and I tear down others in order to feel better about myself.
This list could go on indefinitely, friends. Tell me I’m not alone.
Here’s the thing: my wrong behavior may put me in wrong standing with my community, but it will never put me in wrong standing with God. When the goodness and loving-kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy.
Right standing with God has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with God—God’s mercy, God’s steadfast love, God’s goodness, God’s righteousness.
Any righteousness I claim is God’s righteousness at work in me—loving me so that I can love others, forgiving me so that I can forgive myself, holding me and healing me and empowering me for life lived in community.
The psalmist describes God’s righteousness as being like the mighty mountains. I’m grateful for this imagery. Living in Iowa, mountains remain an awe-inspiring mystery to me. I don’t take them for granted. I catch my breath when they come into view, emerging from the landscape like sentinels, guardians of a world where all creation praises its creator. Trees reach their arms toward the heavens, flowing streams carry grace upon grace, hidden lakes reflect light and life.
Time in the mountains leaves me breathless, inspired, put in my place.
So, too, God’s righteousness stands solid and certain when I am small and insecure—inviting me to trust not in my own right living, but in God at work within me.
Come, Lord Jesus, come. Let your righteousness—not our own merit—be the rock to which we cling. Amen.