As the leaves turn and the air chills, we're in that sweet spot of the year—sandwiched between Veterans Day reflections and the warmth of Thanksgiving. Last Sunday, our hearts were stirred by stories of heroism, sacrifice, and yes, even miracles on the battlefield. But in the midst of honoring our veterans, God drew my attention to something profound: the "other side" of those stories. What if grace isn't just a word we whisper in church, but a radical act of welcome that changes everything?
If you were with us, you know the message hit home. If not, pull up a chair (or your phone)—this is one you won't want to miss. Titled "What Grace and Salvation Really Mean," it unpacked how God's unearned gift of salvation reshapes our striving hearts. And it all started with a tale from World War II that still gives me chills.
Picture this: It's September 1942. A lone Japanese pilot launches from a submarine off the Oregon coast, strapped into a tiny floatplane loaded with incendiary bombs. His mission? Ignite massive forest fires in the Pacific Northwest to sow chaos and draw American resources away from the war front. That pilot was Nobuo Fujita, and his target: the sleepy coastal town of Brookings, Oregon.
In a feat that's the only successful enemy bombing of the continental U.S. during the war, Fujita dropped his payload over the rugged forests nearby. The fires were contained by quick-thinking locals and a heavy downpour, but the threat was real. Fast-forward two decades: Fujita, haunted by regret like so many veterans, returns to Brookings—not as a conqueror, but as a guest. He confesses his role, expecting outrage from a town that still bore the scars of those attacks.
What happened next? The people of Brookings didn't just forgive him—they welcomed him with open arms. They threw a luncheon in his honor, made him an honorary citizen, and even entrusted him with burying a 400-year-old samurai sword as a symbol of peace (which they later returned to him). Fujita planted a peace tree at the bomb site and became a fixture in the community until his death in 1997. From enemy to embraced in one lifetime. That's grace in action.
As believers, we know God loves everyone—even those we've labeled "other." Too often, we pit ourselves against the world, forgetting the humanity on the other side of the conflict. This story, shared just days after Veterans Day, reminded us: God's heart beats for reconciliation, not retaliation.
We're in a series on thanksgiving—grateful for God's Word, the Holy Spirit, and now, grace and salvation. But why dive into this heavy truth amid turkey talk? Because deep down, we all wrestle with the lie that we must earn our way. We chase fixes for every problem, approval from everyone (including God), and fulfillment in fleeting desires. Sound familiar? As a pastor, I see it daily: good folks grinding to "stay in God's favor," fearing failure or wondering, "Have I done enough?"
The Bible cuts through the noise. Ephesians 2:8-9 declares: "For by grace are you saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast."
Grace isn't a reward for our hustle—it's God's lavish gift to sinners like us. We're born that way, as Romans 3:23 reminds: "For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God." (Ever try to illustrate sin to a kindergartener? Just imagine a dog trotting down the church aisle—barking all the way. We know our nature; no explanation needed.)
Contrast that with what we earn: Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Wages? Death—separation, emptiness, regret. Gift? Eternal life. No boasting allowed, because it's all Him.
And here's the game-changer: Grace doesn't stop at salvation. It works in us. Philippians 2:13 promises: "For it is God which worketh in you both to will and to do of his good pleasure." That desire to do good? The power to follow through? God's planting it. Our "good works" without Him? Just empty chases. With Him? A life reshaped, secured, and sustained.
Because we're prone to self-reliance, empty pursuits, and fearing lost favor, the Gospel roots us in grace:
Whether you've walked with Jesus for decades or are just peeking in the door, this truth transforms. It freed the people of Brookings to forgive a bomber. It frees us to forgive, rest, and live gratefully.
As we gear up for turkey and pie, pause: Where are you still earning what God freely gives? Release that regret, that chase, into His open arms. Extend grace to someone who's bombed your world—maybe it's time to plant your own "peace tree."
Watch the full message here or join us this Sunday for more on living thankful. Let's chat—drop a comment below or email me at jhester@calvarybaptistbedford.org. How has grace reshaped your story?