The truest gospel reality is being content with where you are and who you are, knowing that God does the changing, the transforming, and the reforming. That’s His specialty. You don’t have to change the world. You just have to lead your family and love your neighbors well. And by the power of the gospel and the presence of the Spirit, you’re given the ability to do that. Our extraordinary God has seen fit to reveal His matchless grace in ordinary ways. And as we recognize the beauty of our own insignificance, the glory of the gospel and the majesty of the Kingdom take center stage.

Dom Cobb explains that “an idea is like a virus. Resilient. Highly contagious. And even the smallest seed of an idea can grow. It can grow to define or destroy you.” So opens Christopher Nolan’s 2010 tour de force Inception. Those who know me well know that Inception is and remains my favorite film of all time. The intensity, the pacing, the score, the cinematography — I could wax eloquent for quite a while on all the elements of this cinematic masterpiece, but I won’t do that here. The fact of the matter is, I, too, have been incepted. An idea, a truth far more resilient than I’ve ever known or ever expected has come to consume me. My thoughts about life and reality, truth and grace, the present and the future have all been upended by this inescapable notion. And though I might try and avoid it, its pursuit of me is ineludible. Yes, I’ve been incepted by the gospel of ordinary grace.

Believe me, I never thought I would write something like that. After being awakened by God’s gospel of inexhaustible grace, a fire rose within me to share the same radical news that had radically changed me. I wanted people to know that I had found grace, that I had shaken off the chains of works-religion, and was now living by sola gratia. I had just finished Tullian Tchividjian’s eye-opening book One Way Love, and I quickly gobbled up everything else written by him and the authors and works he referenced. I didn’t know it then, but I was jumping into the deep end of Reformed thought. All I knew was that I was adamant about preaching grace and nothing but grace (and still am by the way). This newfound confidence enabled me to bark at anyone who thought otherwise. I was going to be darn sure that no perceived Pharisee would stop me.

I think, though, that this youthful passion for the gospel was driven more by ego than true evangelism. The scales of Fundamentalism had fallen off but the lust for platforms had taken its place. I had been introduced to the gospel of inexhaustible grace, the good news of no-strings-attached love, and I immediately set about making sure everyone knew it. But laced in this proclamation of gospel truth was layer upon layer of self-promotion. This is, perhaps, one of the deadliest and most dangerous fallacies in existence today. It’s also one of the most undetectable. It looks and sounds good when someone champions the name of Christ on social media. It appears very admirable to take on such a mission. But, as Tozer so eloquently and perceptively wrote, “Promoting self under the guise of promoting Christ is currently so common as to excite little notice.”[1] It’s hard to diagnose, but I fear there are scores “Christian bloggers” who are out for nothing except the exaltation of their own name.

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