Dear Steve: It is a remarkable fact the called out ones live by the faith of the Son of God, not any faith they are able to muster.
I am trying to wrap my empty head around the God who justifies the ungodly.
"If you’re a hard worker and do a good job, you deserve your pay; we don’t call your wages a gift. But if you see that the job is too big for you, that it’s something only God can do, and you trust him to do it—you could never do it for yourself no matter how hard and long you worked—well, that trusting-him-to-do-it is what gets you set right with God, by God. Sheer gift." -MSG-
"Whereas in the case of a man who pleads no actions of his own, but simply believes in Him who declares the ungodly free from guilt, his faith is placed to his credit as righteousness."
Do you remember this one? (name that tune)
[Verse 1]
See him wasted on the sidewalk in his jacket and his jeans
Wearin' yesterday's misfortunes like a smile
Once he had a future full of money, love, and dreams
Which he spent like they was goin' outta style
And he keeps right on a-changin' for the better or the worse
Searchin' for a shrine, he's never found
Never knowin' if believin' is a blessin' or a curse
Or if the goin' up was worth the comin' down
[Chorus]
He's a poet and he's a picker, he's a prophet and he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home
[Verse 2]
He has tasted good and evil in your bedrooms and your bars
And he's traded in tomorrow for today
Runnin' from his devils, Lord, and reachin' for the stars
And losin' all he's loved along the way
But if this world keeps right on turnin' for the better or the worse
And all he ever gets is older and around
From the rockin' of the cradle to the rollin' of the hearse
The goin' up was worth the comin' down
[Chorus]
He's a poet and he's a picker, he's a prophet and he's a pusher
He's a pilgrim and a preacher and a problem when he's stoned
He's a walkin' contradiction, partly truth and partly fiction
Takin' every wrong direction on his lonely way back home