Shortly after seeing the movie War Room, I began a women’s Bible study at my church by Priscilla
Shirer, The Armor of God. The study
ties in well to the movie’s theme of strategic prayer, but capitalizes on
spiritual power found by employing the armor Paul writes about in Ephesians 6.
We’re well into the study now, and in describing what the
breastplate does, Priscilla uses the term “imputed righteousness.”
Now there’s a word for you―imputed.
I don’t usually venture too far into theological waters at One Ringing Bell, but if you’re still
with me, I’ll try to explain.
I’ll never forget the first time I remember understanding
what imputed means. It was decades ago, when as a single woman, I transferred
to this town with my job. I had only one acquaintance here. Little could I have
foreseen that this would be the place where I would meet my husband and raise
my children, because at the time I felt alone.
Yet, not alone.
I spent my evenings sitting on my bed with a Bible in one
hand and a commentary in the other. I studied. I prepared for what I didn’t
exactly know. But I knew God was teaching me. It wasn’t in my wildest imagination
that my future husband would be a pastor. Or that my dream of becoming a writer
would actually come true one day.
I can’t remember exactly the verse that brought imputed into
my frame of reference. But at the time, I struggled with a tremendous sense of
unworthiness. Then I read a definition similar to what we find in a Google
search, “ascribe to someone by virtue of a similar quality in another.” The
light began to dawn in my mind that because of what Christ had done on the
cross in dying for my sins, his righteousness was mine. I was worthy not in my
own right, but because of his worthiness. When God looked at me, he saw me
through the work his Son had done on the cross on my behalf.
It felt like a locked door had swung open. Now, I’m not
saying that no one had explained that to me in the past, I’d just never
understood it before―like cobwebs had been in my mind.
But I understood it then, and it was quite liberating. I
could swap my feelings of unworthiness for the righteousness of Christ.
So, a week or so ago, I’m wheeling around town with the
radio on in my car and this song comes on. I listen to the words and start
crying, “Imputed righteousness.” What I’d just been studying.
It was Mercy Me and “Flawless.”
“Flawless” and imputed righteousness. It’s the same thing.
All because of the cross.
So, if you think you’re anything but flawless, your word for
today and the rest of your life is―imputed.
And if you’re like me, you’re going to have this Mercy Me
song on repeat for quite awhile. Take a moment to read the words here.
“Yet he (Abraham) did not waver through
unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and
gave glory to God, being
fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This
is why 'it was credited to him as righteousness.' The words 'it was credited to him' were
written not for him alone, but also for us, to whom God will credit righteousness—for us who
believe in him who raised Jesus our Lord from the dead. He was delivered over to death for our sins
and was raised to life for our justification” (Romans 4:20-25).