Most people, if you ask them, will tell you they’re a good person.
I would have said the same thing. For a long time, I did say the same thing. I wasn’t perfect, obviously. Nobody is. But compared to most people? I was doing alright. I hadn’t murdered anyone. I paid my taxes. I was kind to my friends. Good person. Tick.
It took me a while to realise that I was measuring myself against the wrong standard.
This article is about that standard. It’s about what the gospel actually is, in plain language, without the churchy words that put people off before they’ve even heard the message. It’s about a problem every human being on earth has, a solution most people have never properly understood, and a decision that is the most important one you will ever make.
I’ll try to be honest and direct. I won’t talk down to you. And I won’t pretend the message is smaller than it is, because it isn’t.
Let’s Start With You
Here’s a question I want you to actually think about rather than just skim past.
Do you consider yourself to be a good person?
Most people say yes. And I think most people mean it. We’re not talking about murderers and war criminals here. We’re talking about ordinary people, living ordinary lives, trying to do the right thing most of the time. People like you. People like me.
But here’s the follow up question, and this is the one that matters.
Good by whose standard?
If the standard is “better than Hitler,” most of us pass easily. If the standard is “better than the average person on your street,” most of us feel pretty comfortable. We tend to measure ourselves against people we’re doing better than, and feel good about the comparison.
But what if the standard isn’t other people? What if the standard is something higher than that?
The Ten Commandments Aren’t What You Think They Are
Most people think of the Ten Commandments as a list of religious rules for religious people. Something that applies to people who go to church, not to everyone else.
But that’s not what they are. They are a description of what a genuinely good person looks like. And if you’re claiming to be a good person, they’re worth looking at honestly.
Let’s just take a few of them. Not all ten. Just a few.
Have you ever told a lie?
Not a massive lie necessarily. Just a lie. Any lie. Told someone you were fine when you weren’t. Called in sick when you weren’t. Stretched the truth on a form. Told a friend their haircut looked good.
Most of us have told hundreds of lies. Thousands, probably. What does that make us? It makes us liars. Not monsters. Just liars. That’s the honest word for someone who lies.
Have you ever stolen anything?
Again, not necessarily something big. Something small from work. A chocolate bar as a kid. Something you downloaded without paying for it. Anything, regardless of size or value.
Most of us have. What does that make us? Thieves. Not career criminals. Just thieves. That’s the honest word.
Have you ever used God’s name as a swear word?
“Oh my God.” “Jesus Christ.” Used not as a prayer but as an expression of frustration or surprise. Taking a name that Christians believe is the most sacred name in existence and using it as a filler word. That’s what the Bible calls blasphemy.
Jesus said this: “Anyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Most men, if they’re honest, have done this. Most women too, directed at men. The standard isn’t just what you do. It’s what happens in your mind.
So let’s add it up. Honestly. Not compared to other people. Just honestly.
Liar. Thief. Blasphemer. Adulterer at heart.
That’s not an accusation. That’s just what the words mean when applied to the things most of us have actually done. And we haven’t even covered the other six commandments.
Now. Do you still consider yourself to be a good person?
The Courtroom
I want you to picture something.
Imagine you’re standing in a courtroom. Not a TV courtroom. A real one. The kind where the atmosphere is serious and the outcome matters.
You’re standing before a judge. And this judge is not like human judges. This judge is perfectly good. Perfectly just. Incorruptible. The kind of judge who cannot be bribed, cannot be charmed, cannot be talked around. He has seen everything. He knows everything. There are no technicalities in his court. No clever lawyers. No procedural loopholes.
And your entire life is the evidence.
Every lie you ever told. Every thing you ever stole. Every person you ever hurt. Every thought you’re not proud of. Every time you knew the right thing and chose the wrong thing anyway. All of it, laid out clearly, with no possibility of denial.
The judge looks at the record. And the record shows that you are guilty. Not because you’re a terrible person by human standards. But because the standard in this court is perfection. And none of us have met it.
The verdict is guilty.
Now here’s the part that people don’t always think through. A good judge doesn’t let guilty people off. That’s not goodness. That’s corruption. If a judge had a criminal standing before him who had done real harm, and the judge said “ah, you seem like a decent sort, off you go,” we would be outraged. We would say that judge has no integrity.
God’s goodness means he cannot simply overlook what we’ve done. The record stands. The verdict stands. And the consequence is separation from God, not just in this life, but permanently.
That is the problem every human being on earth is facing, whether they know it or not.
But Then Something Extraordinary Happened
This is where the story changes completely.
Picture the same courtroom. Same judge. Same guilty verdict. Same consequences.
But this time, just as the sentence is about to be handed down, someone walks in and pays the fine.
Not someone random. The judge’s own son. He walks in, looks at the record, looks at you, and says: I’ll take it. Whatever the penalty is. I’ll carry it. Let them go.
And because the fine has been paid in full, the judge can, with complete integrity and complete justice, let you walk free. Not because you deserve it. Not because you’re a good person after all. But because the debt has been cleared by someone else.
That is what the cross is.
Jesus of Nazareth was not just a good teacher or a wise man or a religious figure. Christians believe he was God himself, entering his own creation in human form. He lived the perfect life none of us have managed. And then he went to the cross and took the full penalty for everything in that courtroom record. Every lie. Every stolen thing. Every act of cruelty. Every moment of selfishness. Every sin of every person who would ever turn to him.
Paid. In full.
The Bible puts it like this: “God demonstrates his own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:8)
Not after we cleaned ourselves up. Not after we proved we were worth it. While we were still guilty. That’s how much this cost, and that’s how freely it was given.
This Is Not Religion
I want to stop here for a moment and say something important.
What I’ve just described is not about becoming religious. It’s not about going to church every week, or following a set of rules, or becoming a different kind of person on the outside.
It’s about a relationship with the God who made you, restored through what Jesus did.
Religion says: do better, try harder, follow the rules, earn your way.
The gospel says: the debt is paid. Receive it. Turn from the life that put you in that courtroom in the first place. And walk in something completely new.
The difference matters enormously. Religion is exhausting and it doesn’t actually solve the problem. The gospel solves the problem and then changes the person from the inside out.
Repentance Is Not What You Think It Is Either
There’s a word that gets used in the Bible that puts people off: repentance.
It sounds severe. Old fashioned. Like something you have to do in a confessional booth.
But the word just means turning around. Changing direction. You were going one way. Now you go another.
It means taking the courtroom scene seriously. Not just feeling bad about specific things you’ve done, but recognising that you’ve been living as if God doesn’t exist or doesn’t matter, and deciding that’s going to change. Not because you’re forced to. But because when you actually understand what Jesus did, the only reasonable response is to turn toward him.
Ray Comfort, an evangelist I respect a lot, uses this picture. Knowing about a parachute and putting one on are two completely different things. You can know everything about how a parachute works. You can agree that parachutes exist. You can think parachutes are a great invention. But if you’re on a plane that’s going down and you don’t put it on, that knowledge does nothing for you.
Faith in Jesus is like putting the parachute on. Not just knowing he exists. Not just agreeing that he was a real historical person. But actually trusting him. Putting your full weight on what he did.
That’s it. That’s the whole thing.
What Happens Next
If this has landed for you, even a little, here’s what I’d suggest.
Talk to God. Not a formal prayer. Just an honest conversation. Tell him you understand now what the problem is. Tell him you’re sorry, genuinely sorry, not just for specific things you’ve done but for the way you’ve been living. Tell him you want to turn around. Tell him you’re trusting in what Jesus did to clear your record. Ask him to come into your life and change you from the inside.
He will hear you. Not because you’ve said the right words in the right order. But because he has been waiting for exactly this moment.
Read the Gospel of John. It’s the fourth book in the New Testament. It’s the clearest, most direct account of who Jesus is and what he came to do. Read it slowly. Read it like it might be true.
Find people who believe this too. A good church. People who take the Bible seriously and live it out genuinely. You were not made to do this alone.
One Last Thing
I want to be honest with you about something.
I’m not writing this because I have it all together. I’m not writing this from a position of having figured everything out and looking down at everyone who hasn’t. I’m writing this as someone who spent a long time measuring himself against the wrong standard, feeling pretty good about how he was doing, and then slowly realising the standard was something else entirely.
The courtroom scene I described is not something that happens to other people. It’s something every human being faces. Including me. Including whoever is reading this.
The only difference between someone who has made peace with God and someone who hasn’t is not that one of them is a better person. It’s that one of them has accepted the payment and one of them hasn’t yet.
Yet is the important word.
If you’re reading this and something in you is stirring, that is not an accident. Pay attention to it.
The door is open.
Want to Know More?
- Living Waters — Ray Comfort’s ministry. Honest, clear, direct gospel content. A great place to keep exploring.
- Bible Gateway — Read the Gospel of John online, free, in whatever translation is easiest for you to understand. Start with the New International Version if you’re not sure.
- Got Questions — Plain English answers to almost every question you might have about Christianity, God, and the Bible.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
John 3:16
“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.”
1 John 1:9
“Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.”
Romans 10:13
