No Exceptions
Notes
Transcript
Hello & Greeting
Prayer Requests
Pastoral Prayer & The Lord’s Prayer
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power and the glory,
forever.
Amen.
Me
Me
So — my middle child, Haven. She’s pretty responsible and mature now. She gets good grades. She’s involved in sports and several extra curriculars. I don’t want her head to swell to big — but she’s a pretty good kid.
However — that has not always been the case.
From the time she was about two and a half until she was about four and a half — we couldn’t be in the same room together. …Because one of us might not have survived.
You know — I’m pretty strong-willed… but there were a few times where I realized I may have finally met my match. And she was three!
She was incredibly sweet — but she was also kind of a punk.
One time in preschool she pushed a little girl off the swing. Another time she punched some kid in the face for trying to take away her toy. But her favorite thing to do as a toddler was to just flat-out defy authority… simply because she could.
I can’t tell you how many times I’d get a call at work from the daycare — and I’d have to leave and go deal with this mess she’d created. Every day… it felt like the same story.
We’d get home.
I’d be mad.
She’d be in trouble.
It was this never-ending cycle.
But here’s the part I’ll never forget. Nearly every time she got in trouble — she’d run away screaming, “I wanna be good, Daddy! I wanna be good!”
You’d get on to her for biting somebody at daycare. — “I wanna be good, Daddy!”
“Haven, stop yelling at the teachers.” — “I wanna be good, Daddy!”
“Please, for the love of all that is holy, just eat your dinner!” — “I wanna be good!”
And despite this daily proclamation — she was, in fact, not good.
And before anybody sends me any hateful emails because I’m picking on her — she’s doing great now.
Although this is funny — here’s what was really so heartbreaking looking back on it: she wasn’t lying. She really did want to be good. She just couldn’t make herself.
Her desire was real.
Her effort was sincere.
Her intentions were genuine.
But simply wanting to be good didn’t give her the power to change.
The thing is — that instinct doesn’t disappear when we grow up. We just dress it up better. We trade “I wanna be good.” for a more “adult” version — a self-help book — a New Year’s Resolution — or a really sincere quiet time that lasts about four days.
We
We
Most of us are still running around with some version of that phrase in our hearts. “I wanna be good!”
We want to do the right things.
We want to be better people.
We want our lives to reflect something meaningful.
And when we mess up — we don’t usually deny it outright. We explain it. We soften it. We qualify it. We try to put it in context.
And so we’ll say things like,
“Well I know I’m not perfect, but…”
“At least I’m trying.”
“That’s not really who I am.”
“I’m better than I used to be.”
We’ve all said one of these. Some of us have said all four… in the same conversation.
We all have our versions. Because comparison is how we cope with conviction. As long as there’s somebody doing worse — we feel safer, right? As long as we can point to progress — we feel justified. As long as we can say, “I’m not that bad,” we assume we’re doing okay.
And before we realize it — we start ranking brokenness. We create categories:
Big sins
Small sins
Respectable sins
Private sins
“WE MEASURE OURSELVES” GRAPHIC
We measure ourselves horizontally instead of vertically. Not against God’s holiness — but against other people. And here’s the thing — that instinct isn’t evil. It’s human.
We want to believe that effort counts for something. That intention matters. That sincerity should earn us credit.
We assume that wanting to be good should eventually make us good. And that assumption is exactly what Scripture confronts. Today, it’s going to tell us something deeply uncomfortable — yet also deeply freeing. That wanting is not the same as being able. That effort is not the same as righteousness. And that desire does not equal transformation.
And this is where Romans Chapter 3 steps in and removes all the loopholes.
Not categories.
No comparisons.
No fine print.
Just the truth.
And there are no exceptions.
God
God
Romans 3:23 says:
23 For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God;
If you’ve spent much time in church — this verse is probably at least somewhat familiar. But familiarity has a way of dulling the weight of what’s actually being said. That sentence the Apostle Paul wrote — that we all have sinned and have fallen short of the glory of God — it’s doing a lot more work that we often realize. And it begins with one word that removes every loophole.
All.
Not some.
Not most.
Not the really obvious ones.
All. Paul is incredibly intentional here.
See — in the chapters leading up to this verse — he’s been building a case piece by piece.
In Romans Chapter 1 — he talks about people who have clearly turned away from God.
In Romans 2 — he addresses religious people — the people who know the rules — and know the Scripture — and assume they’re doing just fine.
And that’s where it gets uncomfortable. Because Paul says knowing the law doesn’t make you righteous. Hearing the truth doesn’t make you righteous. Even trying to follow the rules doesn’t make you righteous.
Why? Because the problem isn’t behavior first. It’s the heart.
The prophet Jeremiah puts it this way in Jeremiah 17:9
9 The heart is more deceitful than anything else, and incurable—who can understand it?
So by the time Paul writes Romans 3:23 — he’s removed every hiding place.
Moral people.
Religious people.
Non-religious people.
We all fall under the same diagnosis. All have sinned. And then Paul adds: “and all fall short of the glory of God.”
That phrase is incredibly important. Paul doesn’t say we fall short of our potential. He doesn’t say we fall short of our intentions. He doesn’t say we fall short of other people. He says we fall short of the glory of God.
That is the standard.
God’s holiness.
God’s perfection.
God’s righteousness.
And notice the tense. We fall short. Not we fell short.
This isn’t just about something that happened once upon a time. It’s about an ongoing condition apart from God’s intervention.
The prophet Isaiah captures this honestly. Look at Isaiah 64:6 with me:
All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away.
And if that’s not strong enough language for you — when you leave here today — go Google what Isaiah meant here when he said “filthy rags”. It’ll knock the pride right out of you. But listen — I’m not saying that to make you feel hopeless. I’m saying that because “hopeless” is exactly where grace starts to work.
When we understand this grace — our instinct toward self-improvement starts to break down.
Because we’re comfortable with progress language. We like to say, “Well, I’m growing. I’m better than I used to be.”
And growth matters — but Romans 3 isn’t a progress report. It’s a diagnosis. And this diagnosis is uncomfortable — but it’s also necessary. Because until we understand the depth of the problem — we’ll never understand the beauty of the solution.
Think about it this way — if you went to the doctor and he said, “Well I found something — but I didn’t want to make you feel bad so I’m not gonna tell you about it,” you wouldn’t call that kindness — you’d call it malpractice. So Paul isn’t being cruel here. He’s being a good doctor.
Here’s what Paul isn’t saying:
He’s not saying everybody is equally broken in the same ways.
He’s not saying sin looks identical in every life.
He is saying that everyone is equally incapable of saving themselves.
That’s why comparison collapses here.
Ecclesiastes 7:20 tells us very plainly:
20 There is certainly no one righteous on the earth who does good and never sins.
And then in the New Testament — James — the brother of Jesus says:
10 For whoever keeps the entire law, and yet stumbles at one point, is guilty of breaking it all.
That’s not meant to crush us — it’s meant to clarify something crucial:
“RIGHTEOUSNESS ISN’T ACHIEVED” GRAPHIC
Righteousness isn’t achieved through effort. It’s received through grace.
And this is where Paul’s hard warning becomes helpful. Because he doesn’t stop at verse 23. He goes on to say in the next verse:
24 they are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
In other words — what we can’t achieve — God provides. What we can’t earn — God gives. And what we can’t fix — God redeems. That’s why in John Chapter 15 — Jesus says:
5 I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remains in me and I in him produces much fruit, because you can do nothing without me.
This is the heart of the Gospel.
Change matters. Growth matters. Obedience matters. But none of those things can save us. We don’t change into righteousness. We change because we’ve been made righteous. And that only happens through a relationship with God.
This passage today removes the illusion of self-saving. No moral loopholes — no religious shortcuts — and no exceptions. And strangely enough — that’s what makes grace so beautiful. Because when no one qualifies — everybody is invited. When nobody can boast — everybody can rest. And when nobody can save themselves — we finally look to the Savior.
You
You
So here where’s this gets personal. This declaration — that we’ve all sinned and fallen short of God’s glory — it’s a mirror. And it forces us to look at ourselves and ask the question — how am I going to respond to this?
In other words:
Where have I been trying to change myself instead of trusting God to change me?
Where have I assumed that effort would eventually produce righteousness?
Where have I been relying on discipline — or intention — or consistency to fix something that only grace can heal?
These questions aren’t meant to put you on trial. They’re questions that, if you answer honestly, might be the beginning of the most restful season of your life.
For many of us — the real struggle isn’t outright rebellion. It’s self-reliance. And here’s what’s tricky. They’re actually the same thing.
Sure, we believe in Jesus. We trust His forgiveness. But when it comes to transformation — we try to take the wheel. And God sits in the passenger seat — watching us drive in circles — wondering when we’re going to finally ask for directions.
But we never do. Because we’re convinced if we just drive long enough — we’ll figure it out. We think,
“Man, if I can just be more disciplined.”
“If I can just try harder.”
“If I can just get this thing under control.”
And without realizing it — faith turns into a project, right? Prayer just becomes performance. Scripture just becomes a strategy. And spiritual habits just become checklists. Not because we don’t love God — but because we still believe somewhere deep down that change depends on us.
Here’s the hard truth though— effort can modify the behavior… but it can’t heal the heart.
Think about it like this: an alcoholic can stop drinking without ever dealing with what made them drink. A parent can be more patient with their kids without addressing the exhaustion they’re feeling underneath. We can still show up to church every week and still be completely unchanged on the inside. Behavior modification isn’t transformation. Only God can truly make us change.
That’s why Lent invites us to turn. Not with shame… but with humility. Humility doesn’t mean we live a life that lacks joy — it simply means we place our primary focus on God — instead of our own abilities.
The Pastor Rick Warren has famously said:
“Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.”
Rick Warren
Humility is recognizing that real change doesn’t come from trying harder — it comes from trusting deeper. So maybe today the most honest prayer we can pray isn’t dramatic… it’s simple.
“God, I can’t fix this on my own.”
“God, I’ve been trying to save myself.”
“God, I need you.”
That kind of prayer isn’t failure. It’s the beginning of freedom.
We
We
So then — imagine what your life could look like if you stopped living from a place of exception. Imagine the freedom of no longer carrying the weight of proving yourself.
No more spiritual scorekeeping. No more measuring yourself against other people. No more wondering if you’ve done enough to earn God’s grace and His patience.
Think about what it would feel like to wake up with a sense of peace that doesn’t depend on how well you’re doing. Because your standing with God isn’t based on effort — it’s based on grace.
Picture finally understanding that change flows from our relationship with God — and now toward it. Imagine if we stopped approaching God as a project manager — and instead started approaching Him as our Father. Because that’s what grace invites us into. When there are no exceptions — we’re all level at the foot of the Cross.
There are no “spiritual elites”. There’s no competition. No pressure to pretend like we have it all together. Just honest people — standing on level ground — and receiving mercy.
That’s what makes Paul’s declaration possible — we’ve all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. But that shouldn’t lead us to despair. It should lead us to hope. Because if grace is needed by all — then grace is available to all. And if nobody can save themselves — then nobody is beyond saving.
Call to Repentance
Call to Repentance
All throughout Lent — we’ve been called to repentance… to turn toward God. But repentance isn’t supposed to look like beating yourself up. It looks like laying something down.
Some of come to God today with that same approach Haven had — “I wanna be good!” And it’s a cry a lot of us are still carrying.
We want to be good people.
We want to be faithful people.
We want to be loving people.
And that desire isn’t wrong. But the Gospel reminds us of something freeing and humbling at the same time — wanting to be good is not the same as being able to make ourselves good. That’s why grace exists.
So if Paul’s statement is true — that all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God — then repentance begins when we stop pretending that effort will eventually make us right.
It begins when we release the belief that if we just try harder — or discipline ourselves more — or clean up enough areas of our lives — we’ll finally be okay. Repentance today isn’t confessing that you’re worse than everybody else… it’s confessing that you’re not the exception. That you need grace just as much as everybody else. That you need a Savior — and not just a self-improvement plan.
And the Good News of the Gospel is that God doesn’t respond to our repentance with disappointment — He responds with mercy. Later in the Book of Romans — Paul says in Chapter 5:
20 …where sin multiplied, grace multiplied even more
We don’t repent so God will love us… we repent because He already does.
Maybe for you — repentance today looks like sitting right where you are and just letting go of something you’ve been white-knuckling for months. Maybe it’s finally saying out loud — even if it’s just to God “I’ve been trying to do this on my own and it’s not working.” That’s not dramatic — it’s just… honesty. And God meets honesty with mercy every single time.
So let’s stop trying to earn what God has already given. Let’s turn — not toward effort — but toward trust. And through that — we can receive the grace that changes us from the inside out.
Praise be to God.
Prayer
Communion
