The other day, as we were getting ready to take my son back to military school in South Carolina, our family found ourselves in a pretty lively conversation about rules. Now, if you know my son, you know this: he thrives in structure but still fights it whenever he can. He never wants to be wrong. Honestly? Same. I can’t stand being wrong either.
As we were talking, I made an offhand comment about a Christian group that seemed to have more rules than the Bible itself—and yet, they were constantly looking for loopholes. I laughed and said, “I just don’t get the point of rules you try to prove you’re not breaking when you actually are. If it’s important, follow it. If you’re just creating rules to prove you can bend them, it’s a dumb rule and shouldn’t exist.”
Without missing a beat, my son looked at me and said, “Dad, that might be the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”
Now, I knew what he meant—because in his mind, all rules are dumb. So I had to explain: it’s not about deciding which rules are good or bad, it’s about trusting the One who made them. My issue isn’t with rules themselves—it’s when religious leaders expand them for guilt, shame, or control, and then find clever workarounds when it comes to themselves.
But here’s what struck me: Jesus never made fewer rules. He actually made them more. He took the Law and said, “You’ve heard it said don’t murder—but I’m telling you, anger destroys people too.” “You’ve heard it said don’t commit adultery—but I’m telling you, even lust is betrayal.”
In other words, Jesus made the rules harder.
Not because He wanted to heap guilt on us, but because He wanted us to see the point—that the heart behind the rules actually matters. And when you see it clearly, you also see this: you’re going to miss it. You’re not going to squeak by on technicalities.
And that’s not about control. It’s about grace.
Jesus isn’t in the shame-and-control game. He’s in the grace-and-value game.
Because every rule we break? It doesn’t just hurt us. It hurts someone else. It devalues a person God loves. That’s why the rules matter—but that’s also why grace matters more.
Just recently, I was deep in my own spiral. Struggling with the weight of not being the leader, dad, husband, or man I thought I should be. Feeling like I just keep messing it up. And right in the middle of that, my phone rang.
It was another real estate agent, calling about a property I had shown to a buyer. But pretty quickly, the conversation shifted. He shared how he used to be in IT before real estate, and I mentioned how I was a pastor before this. He paused. And then he said, “I was supposed to talk to you today.”
He shared what his family was going through—not to ask for help, not to unload, but simply to say that God knew he needed that phone call. That he needed to be reminded the Father still saw him. Still loved him.
We hung up, and I cried. Because in his words, I heard God whisper to me: “I see you too. Even in your sin. Even in your struggle. I’ve still got you. You still matter.”
Friend, if I could encourage you with anything, it’s this: don’t waste time trying to prove you’re not breaking the rules. Don’t even start with trying to white-knuckle your way into keeping them. Start by being honest about your sin. More sin, not less.
Let God’s rules be a mirror—not to shame you, but to show you the truth about yourself. Because only then will you know just how much grace you need. And when you know that, you’ll also know this: His grace will always be more.
More grace than your sin.
More value than your shame.
More love than your failures.
So don’t be afraid of more. Because in Jesus, more sin always meets more grace.