Merit always called to me. I grew up in a Christian home with loving parents who had no expectations but that I would regularly attend church. Little did they anticipate that I would exceed these expectations. In high school, I quickly became the core leader of our church’s youth group. I led worship every other Sunday, either shredding electric guitar riffs or strumming my friend’s acoustic guitar while belting high notes. After sermons, I facilitated discussion groups; being the same age as my peers fostered a stronger connection between me and them than what the adult staff could establish. Finally, I led a small group that would meet outside of church, going over a Bible study plan that promoted genuine spiritual growth. The youth pastor would frequently entrust me with various relational and administrative responsibilities, envisioning me as a future pastor in the making. The kids admired me and regarded me as a competent older brother and mentor who could give both spiritual and academic advice. And as any loving Asian parent would, my mom bragged about me to the aunties and uncles in church, filling me with pride. I was convinced I had done enough to earn the acceptance of my Heavenly Father. Yet at the same time, serving in my church community was tiring and unsatisfying. I chased absolute perfection in how I led my ministries; how could a perfect God tolerate imperfection? An off note during guitar solos would cast doubt on my abilities as a worship leader. Skepticism and fear wormed into my faith and theology as peers rightfully disagreed with me in discussion groups. And when it became difficult to manage a stressful academic year alongside church responsibilities, I felt inept and worried I was falling short of God’s expectations. I lived a similar narrative to the story of the rich young ruler. This ruler was deemed sinless in the eyes of men. In the Jewish district of the Roman Empire, he was likely a synagogue leader or Pharisee---a figurehead in his community and well-loved. Unlike the other Pharisees who vehemently opposed Christ, this ruler demonstrated a rare humility. While most Jewish leaders were hardened to Christ and His message, this man displayed an openness to Christ, even addressing him as “Good Teacher.” The rich young ruler approaches Christ, asking Him how to enter heaven. With his wealth and merit, he is confident in what he has to offer for salvation. Out of everyone, he believes he is the most deserving among all. Christ responds that he must keep the commandments. “Easy for me!” the ruler thinks. He keeps and has kept all the commandments that Christ listed out. The man is delusional. Humans are chronically sinful and Christ knows this ruler breaks the Law daily. But Christ does not explicitly rebuke the man for his ridiculous claims. “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” The ruler, thinking of his possessions and status, walks away sorrowfully, rejecting the Savior of the world and his salvation. In poetic fashion, Christ exposes this man’s true condition. The man disobeys God, breaking his self-proclaimed perfect streak and committing his “first sin” by holding to his own strength and merit. So much for being “perfect.” His futile attempt to gain salvation through flawless obedience only highlights the impossibility of such a task. Throughout his life, the rich young ruler amassed good deeds to his name and adhered to the commandments well. His days were decorated with acts of charity, and nearly empty of sinful debt. Living in the luxuries of his virtue, he became more morally affluent than any other person. Yet as he sought to enter the kingdom of God, he came to a profound realization: his merit could not purchase eternal life. Despite the grandeur of his earthly accomplishments, the pathway to salvation demanded a surrender beyond material wealth - the relinquishment of his merit. In his hour of reckoning, he could not place his faith in Christ, for his own merit rendered him blind to the offer before him. He forfeits eternal riches and returns to his worn-out, tiring, and prideful life of self-sufficiency. In the depths of my servant’s heart lies a desire that insists that more effort is needed to satisfy the divine. It insinuates that God’s favor hinges on both quantity and quality of service, that my worth is determined by the magnitude of my own goodness and ability to purchase eternal life through works. Christ gave purpose to my life: to glorify Him through discipleship and congregational work. But that purpose was corrupted and morphed into a relentless pursuit of achievements. I subconsciously believed that by tirelessly serving others and radiating Christian virtue, I could secure my place in heaven and earn God's approval. Yet in the eyes of God, our most virtuous deeds are “filthy rags,” lacking the righteousness required to truly please Him. When we try to serve through our own efforts, God is not glorified; we end up rejecting the very redemptive work that God has already done. His victory seems incomplete and we feel the need to stack more merit on top of His. Amidst the busyness of my spiritual endeavors, I lost sight of the true essence of Godly obedience. Service became about earning God’s favor and salvation. But by His grace, I came to realize how wrong I was. He helped me trust in Him as my Savior and enjoy His grace daily. He opened my eyes to His overwhelming victory over my sins, and the sufficiency of His merit to purchase me from the shackles of sin. Christ’s perfect life, sacrificial death, and resurrection have wiped clean my sinful records, earning me a place with Him in heaven. In two weeks, I will graduate from Berkeley and conclude my four years of service at Crossroads Christian Fellowship. The life of empty toil and perfectionism my high school self endured is now a distant memory. Throughout my college journey, I gradually stopped seeking God's validation through my service. Instead, God renews my heart's desire daily to enjoy the riches of His merit, surrender my achievements, and embrace Him and Him alone as my Savior. No longer am I a rich young ruler who relies on his own insatiable works. Rather, I am an heir to Christ's glorious inheritance, serving and obeying Him out of gratitude. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. - 2 Corinthians 12:9 This blog post was written by Allen Cao, a fourth year from Crossroads Christian Fellowship.
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