
During a recent Sunday morning sermon, the speaker for the day was working hard to convince listeners that we are not alone in difficult times. As her momentum worked toward a crescendo, she reached for a little more Scriptural support for her position. “As it says in II Corinthians 12:9, God’s grace is significant for you.” Like a football extra point that nearly cleared the uprights but veered off course at the last moment, something was slightly askew in her reference. The verse says, “God’s grace is sufficient for you.” It distracted me from her point, but triggered a deeper exploration of the topic of grace.
For as long as I have been paying attention in church, grace has been a central theme in sermons and educational lessons. Charis is the Greek word translated as grace. Generally, it is described as divine favor or goodwill. The range of meaning expands with further study. Particularly in the Old Testament, beyond divine favor, the Hebrew frequently connotes a sense of protection and rescue. When used specifically to interpret and describe God’s grace for humans in the New Testament, words like “unmerited” or “undeserved” are added to the mix. Those are words that nuance the meaning and affect the tone like food coloring added to a recipe. They simultaneously demote the quality of the recipient and elevate the sense that mercy is present in the gift of grace. They underscore God’s goodness and generosity, without which, grace would not exist. But in long-winded sermons and good intentioned curricula the emphasis on an unfavorable, depraved, human condition is inescapable.
Romans 3:23-24 is probably the most often quoted verse to drive this point home: “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption in Christ Jesus.”
We could add a cluster of other statements to strengthen the sentiment. Quickly, grace begins to sound a bit like American Express’s advice in its campaign from the 1970’s: “Don’t leave home without it.” Or like that quarter parents advised children to keep handy before cell phones were common in case they were stranded and needed to phone home. It is there for emergencies and to help keep you from all harm.
It is not that I disagree with the reality of sin or the necessity of grace. I have no qualms with the claim that it is not something I can earn. But why the insistence that humans are so unworthy? Why not simply accept the gift and respond with gratitude? Is it because religious leaders are concerned we won’t be appropriately humble? As though shame is the most effective motivator?
I don’t know how it is with you, but this leads me to ponder two questions underlying this scenario: First, how do we think about the Divine? And second, what do we think about humanity? The answers to those questions influence how we describe grace.
If not forever, at least for quite some time, God has been depicted as a bit on the moody side. In the Genesis creation account God sounds majestic and in control, like an artist on top of their craft. On other occasions, anger leads to destruction, sometimes cast as justice. God fights on the Israelites’ behalf (think the Exodus story), or gets fed up with people’s lack of commitment and walks off the set, abandoning the Temple (think Ezekiel). By God’s own admission, God could be jealous. In the midst of actions, reactions, and perceptions such as these, people sought divine favor. Blessings in life were viewed as signs it had been granted to them. Abraham was favored because of his righteousness (yet another term worth exploring). David was favored, well, because God liked what he saw and chose him over others.
As that emerging religious system developed, expectations and requirements became more demanding. God was portrayed more sternly. With that, grace became more than favor from a loving God; it becomes the bridge that reconnects that which was broken between us because humans apparently can’t meet expectations on their own. Grace is a genuinely kind thing to do, particularly if you designed a system that seems rigged against humanity. It is like an inventor problem solving bugs in the system with a patch to repair the matter.
As the story continues, the importance of grace becomes more central and the emphasis on merit grows stronger. With it develops an incessant mantra that God is doing it for us, but we don’t really deserve it. Even if that is true (and it is), doesn’t it devalue the gift if the giver constantly reminds you of how good they are for doing it and how lucky you are to receive it (even if it is true).
I suspect that the harping on unworthiness is generated more by humans about humans than by God as a means to shame us. Perhaps God said it once somewhere within a lesson and that is the only part the students latched onto. Or, it is the tradition’s way of taking us down a peg or two, like a meat mallet tenderizes tough cuts in preparation for becoming something tastier. Now, many ministers can’t get past that point when trying to shepherd their congregations. It is not a pleasant experience, and frankly, it makes for lazy preaching. Personally, I don’t think God needs to resort to bullying tactics to move our hearts.
Which leads to the second question about humanity. Are we, collectively and individually, as depraved as we are taught? It is amazing how deeply that point of view sinks into the collective psyche. It becomes the ultimate crutch that allows us to excuse ourselves from any responsibility or accountability.
If we are destined to “sin”, is there really a choice involved? And if there is no choice, is it fair to describe the situation in terms of merit, as though if we were better people to begin with it might have turned out differently? Enough of that talk and we may well adopt a sense of unworthiness and live into that description like self-defeating prophecy.
I would be a fan of dismissing the negativity and mud wallowing that accompanies discussions of the human condition. Having said that, I think it is absolutely correct that we do not deserve and merit grace, but it has never been about what we deserve. It is more about the goodness of a God who enjoys showing up and bridging the gap. It is about one whose impulse is to love and protect, even from ourselves.
Grace may be free, as the preachers tell us; but it is complicated to understand. At least three degrees of grace occur to me. First is grace as favor and goodwill, plain and simple. A perception of God that sees a kind, benevolent entity might well arrive at an answer compatible with “favor” received from a happily dispositioned deity. If not favor, at least the absence of threat and harm. Nothing is required. It is the result of the disposition or decision of the one from whom the favor comes. Whatever moodiness we might assume from the biblical narratives, it seems that goodness, mercy, and generosity is God’s overwhelming preference. We are warmed simply because the sun shines. That is something for which to be thankful!
Second, grace is favor shown in a time of need. Some days, I can use a little more help than others. A bit of goodness, some encouragement, a few dollars to help cover the bill. It makes for a friendlier universe. I may have no right to ask for your assistance, but in light of my need you are generous anyway. On days like this, it feels like a move from simple disposition to a kind of intervention.
In its third degree, grace prevents disaster and restores the receiver. This is the stage where much of the “unworthy” language appears in an effort to make a case for grace in the face of eternal consequences. Whether due to decisions made or situations inherited, the verdict was in before we entered the game. Without grace’s intervention, the outlook was bleak at best. Like the days my wife tended to me during my surgery a few years back. Or the day she and another stranger on a steep path grabbed me after a stumble was sending me down the mountain. With all the care of a nurse and all the strength of a warrior, this grace brings you through what you wouldn’t have survived on your own. It wasn’t about merit. It was about one part love and one part innate reaction to help. And despite the temptation to spin it this way, it really wasn’t about unworthiness. It was about need. I didn’t earn it or deserve it, true! But I have doubts that worthiness was at the root of that problem.
These days, I know grace primarily as a gift that has been received. I sense it within the heart. Occasionally I am aware of my need. At other times, I know when it has been given even if I don’t know why. Often, it shows up unannounced. Grace is more than an eraser that removes blemishes from the soul. That such a thing is even considered necessary rests on an assumption or two about human need or divine expectations. I can’t help but wonder if our thinking there isn’t another field goal attempt lacking the needed accuracy to clear the uprights.
This reflection doesn’t completely solve the question. Ours is a complicated world. Alongside the belief in Divine goodness, what about the persistence of evil? Or meanness. Or just plain stupidity? It is not everywhere but it is plentiful enough. I could choose to embrace the idea that it is all bad. But to think humanity is strong enough to override God’s pronouncement of goodness and blessing at creation is not a route I want to take because it potentially leaves me with a God incapable to succeeding at this project. To think that God could stop the insanity but let’s humanity’s freewill run rampant like 5th graders unleashed on a playground reduces God to an inattentive babysitter. That is not a satisfactory solution, either.

“God’s grace is sufficient for us,” the Good Book says. Let’s hope so, because some of life’s questions are beyond us. And for the record, “God’s grace is significant for you,” as the minister said. Even if it is an inaccurate quote, she’s not wrong.

