This week we see how our Father makes the treasures of his house available to any and all. He places them in the last place we’d expect—the trash. In God’s family, the things the world prizes and pursues are counted as worthless. Conversely, what the world rejects and discards is considered priceless and worth pursuing.

The best example of this is Jesus Christ himself. The Father sent his greatest treasure—God the Son—to earth. And many considered Jesus to be a trash that needed to be taken out. . . a troublemaker that needed to be killed. In truth, Christ is the precious cornerstone that God used to build his house, the one with the open door.

We assume people get what they deserve. We assume that what goes around comes around. We assume God helps those who help themselves. Those assumptions are false. God does not operate on the principle of merit but of grace. No one is beyond the reach of God’s grace. God never turns it off. At the entrance of God’s open door is not a Father looking to condemn us, but a Father who has eagerly longed for our return. When we do, he takes us in his loving arms and assures us we are still his child. When the weight of our sin makes us fearful of God’s condemnation, he reveals his grace yet again.

The heavenly Father is always present in the lives of His children. He sees every sorrow we endure. He also sees every sin that we commit, even if it’s only in our thoughts. He is always present. Yet, He is also always patient. God does not snap at us the second we turn from Him. He gives us time to see the error of our ways. He assures us that the door back to Him remains always open. By giving us room to share our struggles and shortcomings, He works in us the very repentance He desires and saves us from the judgment that would otherwise be ours.

Whenever someone accuses us of doing wrong, it’s easy to get defensive. We make excuses. “I’m not that bad.” We try and balance the scales. “Okay, that was wrong. But look at all the good I do!” We play the comparison game. “At least I’m not like him!” When our defenses go up, repentance is impossible.

God, however, has a strategy for lowing our defenses. He assures us that his door is open, and that his home is the place where we don’t need to pretend to be something that we’re not—perfect. Our Father does not ask us to come to him and confess our sin so that he might know what we’ve done. He already knows. He asks us to repent so that we might fully know what we’ve done. Only when we grasp the true weight of our sin, will we call out to God for mercy. When we do, God is always quick to forgive.

Ash Wednesday marks the begging of Lent, reminding us of our mortality and calling us to repent. The ancient practice of imposing ashes on the foreheads of the faithful is what gives Ash Wednesday its name. The church father Tertullian (c. A.D. 160-215) writes of the practice as a public expression of repentance and of our human frailty that stands in need of Christ. Ashes can remind us forcefully of our need for redeeming grace as they recall words from the rite of Christian burial—“earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”—words that will someday be spoken over us all.

Green Berets. Rangers. SEALs. Delta Force. These special forces groups are part of the United States military. They are elite: highly trained with unique skill sets. Many of their important missions are carried out in total secrecy.

Two weeks ago, we acknowledged that we are in the middle of a massive spiritual war. Today, we thank God that we fight this war with the protection of special forces. Since the fifth century, Christians have observed the Festival of St. Michael and All Angels. We commemorate that God has sent Michael, one of the great archangels described in Scripture, and countless of his fellow angels to protect and serve mankind. Let us rejoice that followers of Christ have powerful allies!