How is it that I arrived here? Have you ever driven somewhere only to think back on the journey and realize, in a Clinton moment, that you can’t quite recall how you got there? I think this is why grace is so important. When we arrive at a masterful accomplishment we often outwardly take credit but inwardly we wonder how in the world we got there. On the converse side of things, I believe there are those unfortunate among us who tonight sit on a cot in a cell bunking down with a large reprobate whose name happens to be the same as a popular brand of power tool, who are also wondering the same thing. How in the world did I arrive here? In both cases grace is glaring in it’s intensity to both pardon the criminal and purify the proud. Truth is we arrive at those locations one small step at a time and your guide determines the destination. From familiar accounts of the saints of old, we find that often those on the wrong side of the law, along with ‘Mr. Blackndecker’, were many times in the midst of the wild will of God. Paul and Silas, for example. At the same time those who were often getting a lap dance from luxury were a blasphemous breath away from a divine spanking. Herod the Great, for example. In either case, the party whose guide was grace found favor with God. I believe that when we reach heaven’s throne room and stand before God we’ll all gaze upward in bewilderment wondering, “How is it that I arrived here?” I think of the words of an old hymn. “There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Emanuel’s veins. And sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains. The dying thief rejoiced to see that fountain in his day. And there may I, though vile as he, wash all my sins away.” Amen and amen.