“And what is grace?” the preacher sings.
Then back five hundred voices drone: “Grace is undeserved favor. It does not stop; it does not waver.”
The choir sings a great “Amen.” And everyone goes home.
But has the gospel been delivered? More crucially, has it been heard? As commonly communicated, grace is an answer in a catechism, a distant theological abstraction, an idea we can safely leave alone.
Yet grace is needed in the parking lot—at church or at the grocery store—when someone darts into the space we’ve waited five long minutes for. And grace is vital in the boardroom—and the family room—where pride and jealousy are real. And grace is in a hundred unexpected moments when we are suddenly aware that we are loved—that broken, hurting folks like us—are precious to the God who made us and redeemed us. “He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins” (Eph 1:7).
If grace is only cognitive, and never gets below our ears, we miss its beauty and its power. The grace of God inhabits us, until are very selves are changed, and we become the love of Christ who saved us for no reason other than His love.
When we are loved, we live and breathe the grace of God. There is no greater joy than this. There is no better peace.
So stay in grace.