David: Our fundamental goal in recent weeks has been to understand the grand concept of Grace. Last week I affirmed that Grace was both synonymous with and a part of agape Love, and I asked whether, when we dissect agape Love into its constituent parts—as grace, mercy, forgiveness, etc.—there a danger that we fail to see the forest for the trees, that we miss the fullness of the meaning and implication of agape Love. 

I said there is an alternative to taking things apart—to what science calls the reductionist approach—to understanding the concept of agape Love, an approach that aims to capture the forest but ignores the trees. 

This alternative approach is called holism, sometimes spelled with a w. A holistic approach would aim to understand love and grace in their broader, more inclusive contexts, recognizing how they interrelate and inform one another. 

So today, first I am going to discuss holism. And second, I am going to apologize for wasting your time, and I am going to try to get back on the track this class follows—exploring issues (in this case, Grace) through Bible study.

First, then, holism.

A holistic approach to understanding the concepts of grace and love would treat them not as standalone concepts but as parts of a larger, interconnected system of beliefs and experiences. It would seek to show how grace and love function within the broader framework of human relationships, spirituality, and the divine. 

Here’s how we might seek an understanding of Grace and Love holistically:

The first step would be to integrate the disciplines of Theology, Philosophy, and Psychology.

• With regard to Theology, we wouldneed to conduct a thorough examination of scriptural and theological sources and historical contexts to understand historical and doctrinal perspectives on grace and love. We would have to examine the Big Picture, the forest, and while this precludes examining every tree it does include exploring different interpretations within various religious traditions.
• With regard to Philosophy, we would need to integrate the philosophical perspective on love and grace—which means integrating the ethical, existential, and metaphysical dimensions of love and grace. This would be expected to lead us to insights into human free will, morality, and the nature of the divine.
• With regard to Psychology, we would consider psychological theories on attachment, compassion, forgiveness, and altruism in order to shed light on how these concepts manifest in human behavior and relationships.

Having dusted our hands of those trivia, we can proceed to step 2: A Comparative Religious Study

• The study would be about how different religious traditions understand and practice love and grace. We would study Abrahamic religions (Christianity, Judaism, Islam), Eastern religions (Buddhism, Hinduism, Sikhism), indigenous spiritualities, and modern spiritual movements, because substantial proportions of the human race adhere to one or other of these traditions and because each tradition may reasonably be hypothesized to offer unique insights into the divine–human relationship and the role of love and grace in that relationship.

So having surveyed the globe, the third step takes into account personal and social Experiential and Contextual Considerations

• With regard to Personal Experiences, we would study personal and communal experiences of love and grace. This could involve qualitative research methods like interviews and ethnography to gather diverse narratives about these experiences.
• With regard to Cultural and Societal Contexts, our holistic approach would analyze how cultural, historical, and societal contexts influence the understanding and expression of love and grace. This could be done by studying how these concepts are portrayed in art, literature, and media.

The fourth holistic step would be to explore the Ethical and Social Implicationsof love and grace. Understanding how these concepts inform personal and social actions and attitudes towards justice, mercy, forgiveness, and social cohesion, and how they motivate individuals and communities towards acts of kindness, charity, and social justice, would be our outcome.

The fifth step, if ever we could reach it, would be the fun part, the part that generates new insights. It is the Synthesis of the preceding parts, recognizing the interplay between individual, communal, and divine aspects of Love and Grace. It involves Theological Reflection of the implications of our new holistic understanding for faith and practice. How would the insights gained inform theological concepts of the divine, human nature, and the moral life?

But wait, there’s more. 

Once we have done all the above, then we can move on to the Practical Application of our new insights, in our Spiritual Practices and Community Engagement. The insights gained will generate new ideas for how love and grace can be embodied in spiritual practices, rituals, and community life. This might involve developing practices that cultivate an awareness of grace in everyday life and encourage loving actions towards oneself and others. Churches, other religious communities, and individuals will have an opportunity to apply their new holistic understanding in their outreach, social justice initiatives, and interfaith dialogue.

BS in Grace?

I must apologize. The politest review of all that I have just said would be that it is BS, and I do not mean Bachelor of Science. What I’ve said is not necessarily untrue and complete nonsense (the non-academic definition of BS). I have simply made the mistake of trying to apply a scientific approach to a spiritual issue. It just doesn’t work. It cannot possibly work. 

I had this epiphany just two days ago, on Thursday evening, on reading an article CJ brought to may attention. God bless Connie for teaching me a lesson in humility and for introducing me not only to a Bible chapter and prophet known to me only by name, but also to Martin Luther King, someone I have revered without quite knowing why. I knew him only by his “I have a dream” speech, and while that alone was enough for me to recognize his greatness, this essay he wrote when he was a young man adds to it. 

The prophet is Jeremiah. I haven’t read the Book of Jeremiah (but I will), but I feel I have learned a great deal about him through MLK’s essay. It was written in 1948, when he was a college student. It was a paper he had to write for class. It earned him a B+. (Why only B+? I have no idea.) 

The thing is, through MLK, Jeremiah showed me—or rather he reminded me of—something I already knew and have myself proposed in this class, namely that we know perfectly well what love and grace are. We don’t need to devote precious time and resources to understanding them holistically or otherwise.

How do I know we all know what love and grace are? I know because I have just learned that Jeremiah knew what I already knew before I had any clue of what Jeremiah wrote (or had his scribe Baruch write). 

I am going to read some portions of MLK’s essay, and here is a link to the whole essay. I believe it tells us everything we need to know about grace, as well as several other issues we often discuss. So here goes:

Jeremiah realized that the covenant made at Mount Sinai had failed to accomplish its purpose. He saw that Israel had become apostate; “they obeyed not, nor inclined their ear, but walked every one in the stubbornness of their evil heart” (11:8; 31:32). This was due to a serious defect inherent in the Old Covenant. Instead of being a spiritual asset it was a snare and a delusion. Instead of leading men to their knees it filled them with foolish presumption, until he strikes out at the priest and scribe and law. (8:8). This rebellion against the Old Covenant came to its climax and crown, when in his later activities the prophet brought forth that noblest of all spiritual conceptions, the New Covenant. The shortcomings of the Old Covenant would be removed in the new. “I will put my law in their inner parts and in their heart will I write it; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. And they shall teach no more every man his neighbor, and every man his brother, saying, know Jehovah; for they shall all know me, from the least of them unto the greatest of them, saith Jehovah: for I will forgive their iniquity and their sin will I remember no more.” [ME: If that is not a definition of grace, I will eat my hat.] (31:31ff). In every {respect} the New Covenant will differ from the Old. The law written upon stone is to be replaced by the law written in the heart. As stated by Dr. Matthews, “this law written in the heart required no Torah, canonized by an emotionally conditioned populace and then easily subverted by legalism. Nor were manuals of worship, altars, and a Temple, that so often become ends in themselves, required to aid the spirit of man in communing with his Maker. Nor was residence in the Holy Land essential to the highest religious life. True religion was not rooted in the soil of Palestine, but in the hearts of men and women.” [ME: Phew! How many instances of God’s grace are described here!] The law written in the heart will become an inseparable part of man’s moral being. Principles would take the place of external ordinances. Such principles as truth, and justice, and purity, love to God and love to man, would be enshrined in the hearts of men. This, said Jeremiah, would lead to an ideal state, in which the sins of the people would be forgiven. The children of the New Covenant would be the sons of God, no longer subject to external laws of the state, but ruled by impulses to good, acting upon the heart as a principle which grows from within.

Such was the New Covenant which Jeremiah was the first to conceive. Let us briefly list the positive features of the religious relationship established by the New Covenant. [ME: Note that these quotes are all directly from God himself, in the Bible.] (1) Inwardness: “I will put my law in their inner parts;” (2) Individualism: “all shall know Me;” (3) Forgiveness of sins: “their sins I will remember no more.” All of this states one central truth, the inwardness of true religion. It is this inwardness of true religion which causes men to do the will of God spontaneously from inward inclination rather than from commands of an external law. No one can deny the fact that this prophecy, although rather idealistic, is one of the profoundest anticipations in all the Old Testament. “Liberating religion from all externals, at the same time the New Covenant strengthened and democratized it by placing responsibilities squarely on the shoulder of the individual, and purified and deepened it by making it a matter of conscience.

Jeremiah declares that public religion is an organized hypocrisy. [ME: Here he cites the Book of Jeremiah, Chapter 7 verses 8–10:]

Behold, ye trust in lying words that cannot profit
Will ye steal, murder, and commit adultery and swear falsely,
And burn incense unto Baal, and walk after other gods whom ye know not;
And come and stand before me in my house, which is called by my name, and say,
We are delivered to do all these abominations.

[ME: I am not sure what version of the Bible MLK was using, but here’s the same passage in the NASB version, which I find easier to understand:]

“Behold, you are trusting in deceptive words to no avail. Will you steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, offer sacrifices to Baal, and follow other gods that you have not known, then come and stand before Me in this house which is called by My name, and say, ‘We are saved!’—so that you may do all these abominations?

…[R]itual is never to be used as an end within itself, but only as a means to an end. It would be unfair to say to say that the functionaries of the Temple deliberately meant to inculcate evil or immorality, but they drifted into the belief that the Temple was more important than the distinction of good and evil, the sacrifices more vital than sin. It therefore took the fortitude and mind of Jeremiah to expose these pressing faults.

… [R]eligion is not something which can be organized, rather it is a spontaneous outflow from men’s contact with a divine spirit. As soon as an external compulsion is attempted it leads inevitably to hypocrisy.

Don has taught us a lot about the four great mysteries: Where does Goodness come from? What about Evil? Whose God is God? And: Is there life after death? Jeremiah confirms at least one of Don’s conclusions: that God is the God of all people. It also makes it pretty clear, to my mind anyway, that Goodness comes from the God within—from the Holy Spirit. In that sense, it supports Michael’s contention that the Trinity is Grace, since the Holy Spirit is the Trinity.

But one more word about holism and reductionism: I said that these scientific approaches are entirely inappropriate for understanding spiritual issues, therefore I have wasted your time by thinking I could apply them to our study of Grace. But now I would add that they may not be inappropriate for understanding and guiding how religious institutions approach the issues. That’s a different matter, and maybe something Don might want us to take up at some point.

So back to MLK and Jeremiah: Isn’t what Jeremiah said enough for us already? Do we really need more understanding than he provides? Did he miss something? 

And why have I only just discovered him? Why wasn’t I taught about Jeremiah when I was eight? Does it matter that I discovered him late, or even that I discovered him at all? Jeremiah himself seems to be saying No, it doesn’t matter, because you know it all anyway. It’s in the Holy Spirit that is already inside you.

But if it doesn’t matter, what’s the value of religion, if it has nothing to teach us about Grace and other spiritual issues and indeed risks corrupting what God has put inside us? 

I think the church does have a role, and so does the scientific approach, and that role was suggested by MLK at the beginning of his essay. After describing the tumultuous times in which Jeremiah lived, he wrote:

[P]rophecies spring out of immediate occasions. The situations they deal with, the personal moods, attitudes and temptations they are meant to meet, are always contemporary.

We face occasions so immediate they are both mundanely existential and spiritually beguiling, from climate change to AI. I think Jeremiah has the answer to the spiritual issue of what happens when everyone lives alone in a virtual reality—and that answer is Nothing happens. God is still there inside us. But what happens to the church is another matter entirely, and if I were a church, I’d be desperately promoting the holistic study with which I began this talk. 

And maybe that’s the place to end it. and turn the discussion over to you. Through MLK, Jeremiah has pretty much answered all my questions, but what about you?

C-J: Jeremiah is one of my favorite prophets, perhaps my favorite. I wanted to add, and was waiting for you to get there, that Jeremiah’s book discusses the transition from the church— the temporal, the ritual— to a very personal religion. In that paper, I hope people will delve deeply, although it was a lot of ground to cover. 

Martin Luther King summarized that Jeremiah’s religion is an immediate, personal relationship between Jehovah and the individual soul, entailing obedience and devotion from the individual to his God. “I will give them a heart to know me. I am Jehovah, and they shall be my people.” You did quote that, and it’s a very common scripture passage that all young Christians learn as they study the book of Deuteronomy. Jeremiah died as a martyr and was called the weeping prophet because he felt so intensely, I believe, similar to Christ. Please don’t interpret that as blasphemy, but it’s about the sensitivity to the state of the people of God, those who profess to know God, and this sense of ache in his spirit for not having that full relationship with the divine. So, the whole point of Martin Luther King’s statement was that Jeremiah understood our relationship with God to be very personal and intimate.

Michael, I often hear you express confusion over cognitive dissonance, particularly regarding the coexistence of judgment and grace. I’m curious about your perception of what David shared and whether it changes your understanding or feelings about what you heard.

Michael: I wasn’t specifically thinking about judgment, but the New Covenant is made very clear with Jesus’s coming. I also had never heard of this prophecy in Jeremiah, which is a surprise, and I love it. 

To Christians, it’s clear that Jesus introduced a New Covenant. What shocks me is that the church seems reluctant to let go of the Old Covenant, despite having a much better, improved, and entirely different New Covenant. We still cling to the old, which is shocking, even though Jeremiah in the Old Testament points to the New Covenant and says, “here it is!” 

It’s fascinating to me, including how it’s linked with grace and Jesus’s message, and how he accomplished this New Covenant. I’m not fully there yet.

Regarding judgment, my understanding of it from the church and from Dr. Weaver might be very different. Can we think of judgment as grace? That they are not very different things? And do these terms have different meanings in the two Covenants (Old and New)?

C-J: It goes back to what Dr. Weaver said last week, that the Tree of Life represented grace in the garden; it’s always been there. The Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil represents understanding through man’s perception, and we don’t always get it right. In fact, pride, which is the beginning of the fall, comes into play. There’s nothing wrong with knowledge itself; it’s about how we use it, often for selfish reasons. But grace has always been there. It’s in our DNA. We are meant to be embedded in our DNA as the children of God. Does that make sense, Michael?

Carolyn: Is the New Covenant involved at all in the spiritual life of Jews? Do they believe in Jeremiah? Have they incorporated it into their spirituality or religiosity? I’m just curious about the perspective of people of the Old Covenant on Jeremiah.

C-J: Jeremiah’s time was during the era of Deuteronomy. He clearly understood what Deuteronomy was saying. He observed when people became caught up in temple rituals, rules, power dynamics, and stubbornness—the wilderness experience. Jeremiah speaks a lot about the law and that period; it was very real to him. But he advocated moving beyond the rituals and traditions of the law. 

Jesus said, “I have not come to abolish it but to fulfill it.” Jeremiah talks about this transition, this realization, this epiphany, that our relationship with the divine is a personal one. As David mentioned, it’s not about doing away with the institution, the rituals of the church, or living a certain standard of life in a community. Jeremiah didn’t have a problem with those things. But his message was about not becoming trapped in piety and ritual. Instead, understand there’s a very personal relationship here, Carolyn. 

Carolyn: I believe some of the Jewish rituals were anticipatory, looking forward to what would happen in the time of Christ, the crucifixion, and his bearing of our sins.

Donald: Why do people seek spirituality? Why this search for something beyond themselves? Why the need to gather, organize, and construct religious structures worldwide? Why not simply declare it a personal journey and leave it at that? I understand the social aspect—people gather for various reasons, including shared experiences or backgrounds. We’re inherently social beings. But what drives the need for highly organized religion? There’s a clear distinction between “spirituality” and “religion.” What are your thoughts on this? Are these terms relevant to our discussion, or is this a deviation?

C-J: The issue isn’t just with the institution of religion but with all our institutions.

Don: It seems we’re inclined to define salvation’s parameters and metrics. Nobody wants to face death or the Hellfire presented so convincingly. If a group claims, “This is the way!” and offers guidance, it’s natural to follow, despite scriptures teaching a personal relationship with God and that salvation is from God, not ourselves. 

Michael’s right; we cling to the Old Covenant as though it were our salvation. When we emphasize grace and God’s work on our behalf, it leads to martyrdom or crucifixion, as Jesus discovered.

Donald: We have friends who view the traditional church as important, while acknowledging its flaws. Accepting Jesus Christ as your Savior and being baptized is a profound experience. But there’s an additional aspect related to doctrine, not just a simple two-step process but a singular step. The church, too, seems to desire this blending of structure and grace, of personal and organized religious relationships as a singular process. It’s fascinating how we organize our lives, often privately or in small groups, but choose to structure our religious lives with rules and organization.

Don: The issue lies not only in the structure but in the perspective, which is often flawed. Religion should focus on what God does for us, not what we do for God—a perspective not commonly held. How do our Church’s fundamental beliefs reflect on God, grace, and our efforts? This perspective aligns with the concept of holism, not eliminating ritual but reframing its significance.

Sharon: Perhaps the holistic view of religion offers sociological benefits, such as the sense of belonging to a denomination or group. Ultimately, though, it’s about the deeply personal relationship with God, which is spiritual, not sociological. The church and its guidelines often seem more focused on the social benefits than on the individual’s spiritual journey with Jesus, the grace He bestows, and how He lives out His life through us. There are broader implications for understanding the role of holistic religion.

Don: Is it even possible to have an organized church based on the concept of God’s grace? Or would that be fundamentally incompatible?

Donald: Alternatively, if such a church were possible, what might it look like? Would it differ significantly from the church we find valuable?

C-J: I believe the approach would differ significantly. The Assemblies of God, for instance, maintain their member churches at a population of around 500. This ensures communion and support among members, akin to an extended family. The principle of keeping congregations small to foster close relationships was evident even if the exact numbers weren’t specified. 

The problem arises when churches compete over size and wealth, equating their worth with their offerings or tithes. This mindset can lead to destruction. Our relationship with God is divine business; the church is human endeavor. God emphasizes that spirit and salvation are His domain, not the construction of larger churches. The focus should always be on our relationship with God. Mega churches often promote populism, prosperity doctrines, and political influence, which can be dangerous. Historical examples, like the power of the Popes and the wealth of the Templars, show how religious institutions can amass earthly power and riches, straying from the essence of God. 

Jeremiah emphasizes a personal relationship with God, one that no one can take from you. It’s in adversity that we truly seek God, asking not just for guidance but for understanding our role in His plan. Jeremiah’s sensitivity and focus on a spiritual relationship with God, desiring that his words and intentions align with the Holy Spirit, resonate with me. This is the essence of the book of Jeremiah: an evolving, correcting, and constantly examined relationship with God and others.

Michael: David, you suggest that this spiritual connection is individual and perpetual. While I might have misunderstood your use of ‘intuitive,’ it’s clear that recognizing and embracing this covenant is not instinctual for everyone. It requires repeated exposure and learning to become more familiar. This difficulty in understanding might be why it’s challenging for some.

David: I didn’t claim it was intuitive, but I do believe it’s inherent in everyone born, which is why God is the God of all mankind. God resides within us all. However, not everyone seeks to understand this divine presence. The fact that we’re here in class, attempting to grasp the concept of grace, reflects our personal journeys. Through this Bible study, we realize the inherent connection but question the need for further understanding of something that is already a part of us.

Don’s remarks on salvation bring to mind The Shawshank Redemption. In the film, a wrongly accused man hides his escape tool, a tiny rock hammer, inside a Bible. The warden, unaware of the Bible’s altered purpose, ironically remarks, “Salvation lies within!” Indeed, it did, but it was not the salvation he imagined!

Reinhard: I like to compare the covenants, old and new. In the Old Testament, grace is evident, but it’s received through obedience to God’s law, such as performing sacrificial offerings to gain favor from God. This favor, or grace, results in blessings like good health and prosperity, as we discussed last week. For instance, Job offered sacrifices to cover potential transgressions by his children, seeking God’s grace for their well-being. Cyrus, the king of Persia, encouraged sacrifices to God, leading to received blessings. This, I refer to as worldly grace, contrasted with the immediate consequences of God’s wrath for disobedience. 

However, the New Testament shifts from salvation by law to salvation by faith, emphasizing a life lived in closeness to God through faith. This contrast between the Old and New Testaments highlights a transition from obedience under the law to faith-driven grace, significantly improving our spiritual lives as Christians. We have access to this understanding through the teachings of the new covenant. Even in the story of Adam and Eve, God’s grace was present despite their disobedience, showcasing that obedience and faith are key to receiving God’s grace, which is why we worship Him out of love.

C-J: As a child, my father’s discipline involved reflection, asking me to consider my actions and their implications. This process wasn’t just about learning to listen but to gain understanding. Similarly, my relationship with God involves recognizing how He communicates with me in various ways, whether as a parent, friend, authority, or source of love and grace. It’s about discerning whether it’s my own thoughts processing or God speaking to me, often through the simple words of others that resonate deeply. God’s creativity in communication is His work, not mine. 

Even at my age, I’m still learning to recognize and understand God’s voice, reminding myself to listen and surrender to His will. This intimate, personal relationship, as referenced by Martin Luther King, is grounded not in rituals or texts but in understanding God’s voice and aligning with His will. It involves recognizing the appropriate voice for different audiences to ensure effective communication, understanding, and trust. This relationship with God can be nurtured through various means, including spiritual texts, praise, worship, or even encounters with strangers, emphasizing the importance of learning the many ways God speaks to us.

Don: Next week, we’ll hear from Michael.

* * *

David: “In the beginning, was the Word,” as we all well know. Last week, Michael proposed that the Word is God’s Grace. John’s opening passage of the New Testament makes clear that the Word is God and, argues Michael, since both Father and Son are part of the Trinity, the Word is also Jesus Christ. Thus, Michael pointed out, Jesus is the incarnation of Grace and of God on earth. Jesus=God=Grace.

Michael then went a step further by exchanging the word Grace with the word Love. So the equation becomes: Jesus=God=Grace=Love. In other words, Michael treated Love and Grace as synonymous terms, and he quoted a selection of passages from John and Paul to illustrate the point.   

I agree with Michael on all of this. After all, John himself also gave us the equation: God=love, in this passage:

… God is love, and whoever abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him. (1 John 4:16)

I wish, as Michael does, that religious doctrine would center itself more firmly on Love and/or Grace, as Jesus did when he said (Matthew 22:37-40) that the greatest commandment is to love God and one’s neighbor, and that all the law and prophecy of the Old Testament is premised on that one commandment. 

As I commented last week, to me this short declaration encapsulates the entire ethos of Christianity in the singular concept of love, whether we call it grace or God or Jesus or charity or whatever. Any distinctions between component part of love do not change the essence, the whole, any more than differences in hair or eyes or skin color changes the essence of any individual’s humanity.

If that is so, why do we have this urge to dissect or deconstruct grand concepts such as love and grace into smaller components like mercy, grace, kindness, compassion, and charity? Our human tendency is to break down complex concepts, to take them apart, in order to understand them. Science knows this process as reductionism., and it comes with many benefits. But it also comes with some terrible dangers. Phrenology, for instance is a (thank God) discredited  proposition that the shape and size of parts of the skull can be used to determine a person’s character traits and mental capabilities  

But are love and grace all that complex, really? Or are they so complex—do they have so many components—that we can’t hope to grasp them all? Are they amenable to dissection? Do love and grace have an anatomy we can operate on, as it were?

Michael and I are happy to treat the terms Love and Grace and even the Trinity as synonymous, but the very fact that we have distinct words for them implies that while they may be related, they are distinct concepts. Grace is commonly defined as a manifestation of divine love expressed as unearned favor, mercy, and compassion. Love is even broader than that, encompassing several forms and a range of feelings, actions, and states of being, including grace itself. 

The Greeks had distinct names for various forms of love. The best known are agape (meaning unconditional love), eros (meaning romantic love), and philia (meaning brotherly love), among others. 

In this discussion, I am focusing on agape love. (I’m hardly the first to so—it has been written about extensively. In fact, Sir John Templeton, the billionaire who bequeathed most of his fortune to funding religious understanding, wrote a book with that very title.)

Much of what follows is adapted from the dictionary embedded in my Apple MacBook. The dictionary of course cites references for its assertions, but I am going to skip most of the citations to save time. Trust me. 🙂  

There are a few instances of the word agape in polytheistic Greek literature, but it came into its own along with Christianity. According to Liddell and Scott’s Greek-English Lexicon, Christians take agape to be “the highest form of love, charity” and “the love of God for man and of man for God”. This is in contrast to philia, brotherly love, or philautia, self-love, as it embraces a profound sacrificial love that transcends and persists regardless of circumstance.

According to the Encyclopædia Britannica, agape refers to the covenant love of God for humans, as well as the human reciprocal love for God; the term necessarily extends to the love of one’s fellow human beings. It is the word used (in the Greek translation) by Paul in that most sublime of passages:

If I speak with the tongues of mankind and of angels, but do not have [agape] love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains, but do not have [agape] love, I am nothing. And if I give away all my possessions to charity, and if I surrender my body so that I may glory, but do not have [agape] love, it does me no good.

[Agape] Love is patient, [agape] love is kind, it is not jealous; [agape] love does not brag, it is not arrogant. It does not act disgracefully, it does not seek its own benefit; it is not provoked, does not keep an account of a wrong suffered, it does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; it keeps every confidence, it believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

[Agape] Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away with; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away with.  (1 Corinthians 13:1–8) 

Agape denotes even God himself—the expression “God is love” (ὁ θεὸς ἀγάπη ἐστίν—”ho theh-os ah-gah-pee eh-stin.”) occurs twice in the first book of John: 

He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is [agape] love…. (1 John 4:8)

God is [agape] love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him. (1 John 4:16)

Agape was used by the early Christians to refer to the self-sacrificing love of God for humanity, which they were committed to reciprocating and practicing towards God and among one another. (The notion that God’s love for us entails self-sacrifice reminds me of Don’s remark last week about God doing penance.) 

To the Jewish contemporaries of Jesus, this understanding of agape love would have been built upon the foundational Hebrew concept of chesed, or the lovingkindness of God, which is a word we see throughout the Old Testament.

Agape has been expounded by many Christian writers in a specifically Christian context. As I mentioned last week, C. S. Lewis used agape in his 1960 book The Four Loves to describe what he believes is the highest variety of love known to humanity: a selfless love that is passionately committed to the well-being of others.

The Christian use of the term comes directly from the canonical Gospels’ accounts of the teachings of Jesus. When a lawyer (or scribe or teacher, depending on whether you read Matthew, Mark, or Luke) asked what was the great commandment,… 

“Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” (Matthew 22:37–40)

In Judaism, the first part of that “Great Commandment”—“love the LORD thy God”—is part of the Shema Yisrael (“Hear, O Israel”) prayer that is recited morning and evening and is found in Deuteronomy 6:4-5: 

“Hear, O Israel: the LORD our God, the LORD is one. And thou shalt love the LORD thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.“ 

The second part of there Great Commandment, “love thy neighbour as thyself” is found in Leviticus 19:18: 

“Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people, but love your neighbor as yourself.”

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said:

You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love (agapēseis) your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love (agapāte) your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? ( Matthew 5:43–46, RSV)

The prolific early Christian writer Tertullian (c. 155 – c. 220 AD) wrote that even pagans were attracted to the Christian notion of love: 

“What marks us [Tertulian says, referring to Christians] in the eyes of our enemies is our lovingkindness. ‘Only look,’ they say, ‘look how they love one another'” (Apology 39).

Even so, the attainment of pure Christian [agape] love is “a very partial and rudimentary realization,” wrote the Anglican theologian O. C. Quick (d. 1944). ”In its pure form,” he wrote, “it is essentially divine.” He wrote: 

If we could imagine the love of one who loves men purely for their own sake, and not because of any need or desire of his own, purely desires their good, and yet loves them wholly, not for what at this moment they are, but for what he knows he can make of them because he made them, then we should have in our minds some true image of the love of the Father and Creator of mankind.

Karl Barth (d. 1968), a Swiss Reformed theologian best known for his commentary The Epistle to the Romans, who was featured on the cover of Time magazine on 20 April 1962, distinguished agape from eros (romantic love) on the basis of its origin and depth of devotion without want. With agape, humanity does not merely express its nature, but transcends it. Agape identifies with the interests of the neighbor “in utter independence of the question of his attractiveness” and with no expectation of reciprocity.

The word agape is also used in its plural form (agapai) in the New Testament to describe a meal or feast eaten by early Christians, as in Jude 1:12 “feasts of charity”) and 2 Peter 2:13 (“while they feast with you”). The agape love feast is still observed by some Christian denominations today, especially among Brethren and Anabaptist churches. For example, among the Old Order River Brethren and Old Brethren, a weekend is still set aside twice a year for special meetings, self examination, and a communal Love Feast as part of their three-part Communion observance.

According to 1 Timothy, agape love that “comes out of a pure heart, and of good conscience and of faith unfeigned” is the “end of the commandment”. By “the end” I take Paul to mean the fulfillment of the commandment, and not just of that one commandment but of the whole law, because he said exactly that in Romans: 

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. (Romans 13:8-10) 

The law applies only to those unable to reach that divine level of agape love. Paul also said in Timothy that “law is good, if a man use it lawfully” and noted that “Some having swerved have turned aside unto vain jangling. Desiring to be teachers of the law; understanding neither what they say, nor whereof they affirm”. This is because “the law is not made for a righteous man, but for the lawless and disobedient.” (1 Timothy 5-9)

So much, then, for Love. Given this Scriptural background, let’s return to the question of whether focusing primarily on aspects of love (Grace, for example) might we risk overlooking other essential aspects of divine love? For instance, in the parable of the Prodigal Son, the father’s agape love is manifested not only in grace (his forgiveness) but also in rejoicing, restoration, and relationship. These are all components of the love, the agape, which the father extended to his prodigal son. 

When we dissect Love into its constituent parts in this way is there a danger that we fail to see the forest for the trees, that we miss the fullness of the meaning and implication of agape Love? 

There is an alternative, or it might more productively be thought of as a complement, to the reductionist approach to understanding, one that captures the majesty of the forest but ignores the trees. It is called holism, sometimes spelled with a w. A holistic approach would aim to understand love and grace in their broader, more inclusive contexts, recognizing how they interrelate and inform one another. With Don’s permission, I will discuss this approach next week, along with a brief review of how the other major religions approach it.

Meantime, have we reduced love and grace enough, or do we need to dissect them even more? 

C-J: In all the parables and units of the Bible that were mentioned, there’s a principle of KISS—keep it simple. Through the Holy Spirit, and by community and relationship, we naturally grow and mature because the Holy Spirit is present in our consciousness and to which we surrender. So, I believe less is more, regardless of education level, age, or social status. A simple smile, an offer of help, a shared meal—these gestures mean a lot, especially in communities like mine where poverty is prevalent. 

On Sunday mornings in a black church, or even just a small church, it’s difficult for people to tithe. There’s a small church up the street from me; it was a house, and I believe their membership doesn’t exceed 30 extended family members. Yet, they come faithfully. Part of their time together—studying the Word of God, praise, and worship—includes a communal meal on Sunday. This meal isn’t just for members; it’s about supporting those in the community who can’t afford to tithe or lack stable shelter. It’s never about whether you’ve paid your tithe or what you’re bringing to the table. 

The dignity of coming together, breaking bread, and rejoicing in what God has provided is paramount. Whenever I’m in that setting, the joy, despite all obstacles related to their station in life or their lack, is abundant. They may not be perfect beings—desperate people do desperate things—but their sense of community, love, support, and acceptance is overwhelming as soon as the church doors open. Their message is simple, profound, and welcoming.

Jay: Whether these concepts are completely synonymous is something I keep pondering. If they are the same, why do we have different words for them? This question has become a bit of a sticking point for me. As I reflect on this, I think about the idea of operationalizing these concepts. It’s relatively easy for me to talk about how I should love my neighbor, family, or spouse—I can come up with operational examples of how to express that love. 

However, when it comes to showing grace, it seems more challenging. The notion that seems available is that of giving someone a bit of grace, which implies giving them some leeway. This usage seems synonymous with offering a little grace. But if I were asked to make a list of how to give grace versus how to give love, I could easily fill pages with ways to express love but find it much harder to do the same for grace.

Michael: I think part of the challenge is how we understand grace compared to love. It might be easier to talk about love than grace because grace is counterintuitive. It’s not the same as loving God or God’s love. It’s about real forgiveness that occurs without any action on my part. When love is mentioned, I don’t grasp the concept in the same way. Grace has an aspect that love doesn’t seem to cover.

C-J: I find joy in language and its diverse expressions and applications. When we’re in relationships, it’s crucial to meet people where they are and hope they meet us too, choosing words that best convey our interactions. Agape is broad yet personal; grace is broad yet experiential. This diversity is the beauty of language, borrowing from other cultures to deeply communicate, to see and love someone beyond the general concept of agape—loving their laughter, how they love their children, or trust in God. Agape love from God is always ready and present, unlike our occasional reluctance due to hurt feelings. 

The Holy Spirit encourages self-reflection and accountability in our relationships and before God. If I harbor anger, how can I love? Keeping ourselves nourished by grace, studying the Word, and doing good works changes the paradigm entirely.

Carolyn: To me, love expressed as grace in action is a simple concept, yet I’m searching for the pathway. Since grace is freely given, love must be too. Achieving such grace and love, naturally acting for others as commanded, raises questions about whether this is instinctive or something a church embodies. I’m still curious about the path to attaining this combination of Agape love and grace.

Don: I’m pondering whether grace is love in action or vice versa. I’m struck by the command to love God with all our heart and our neighbor as ourselves. But does God require our grace?

David: Considering God’s self-sacrificing love for us, epitomized by Jesus sacrificing himself, there’s a profound aspect to explore, possibly related to Jesus’ cry of abandonment on the cross. Last week’s discussion about God paying some form of penance hints at a deep mystery worth exploring further, aiming to understand its essence.

C-J: I’m not convinced “penance” is the right term. Drawing a parallel to the lamb, its innocence is key—it lacks the knowledge of its fate and possesses only the instinct to survive. Unlike humans, the lamb is unblemished, nurtured, and set apart, symbolizing purity without guilt or shame. This purity contrasts with the concept of penance, which implies guilt. In the moment of forsaking, it’s believed that Jesus bore our sins, yet his questioning of his fate shows obedience and recognition of his purpose, unlike the lamb’s simple instinct for survival. Our daily surrender to God’s will, even without personal sin, reflects gratitude for divine protection from sin.

Don: I view the two trees in the Garden of Eden as symbols of grace and works or discrimination. Grace existed before sin, suggesting its role extends beyond merely covering sin. This view aligns with David’s caution against oversimplification. Revelation 22 mentions the tree of life, whose leaves heal nations—a representation of grace in action, addressing our spiritual ailments before we even sin. Michael’s insight from last week, viewing grace through the Trinity, opens up rich theological exploration.

Reinhard: I’ve always felt that love is a divine attribute within us, perhaps embedded in our DNA. Whether it’s practicing agape love or other forms of love, it’s about reciprocating God’s love. This reciprocity is evident in our capacity to love others—philia love—extending beyond divine love to encompass love for our neighbors and humanity. This understanding has evolved for me over time, recognizing that while God’s love is unique, our response to it, agape, involves a deep, personal commitment.

I see grace as a divine gift, distinct yet intertwined with love. Grace, emanating solely from God, is foundational to our spiritual existence. It’s a concept that spans both Testaments of the Bible, evolving from a focus on law and sacrifice in the Old Testament to a profound emphasis on salvation and forgiveness through Jesus Christ in the New Testament. This transition reflects a broader, more inclusive understanding of grace as not just a response to sin but as an integral aspect of God’s unconditional love for all creation.

In my journey through the scriptures, particularly the New International Version, I’ve noticed the nuanced portrayal of grace, from its sparse mentions in the Old Testament to its abundant presence in the New. Paul’s writings, for instance, highlight the transformative power of grace, linking it directly to salvation. This saving grace, though freely offered to all, demands a response—our faith and repentance. It’s a call to action, not just a passive reception of divine favor.

Moreover, the concept of grace in the Bible underscores a universal provision for well-being—blessings bestowed on believers and non-believers alike. However, the ultimate expression of grace is found in the New Testament, where the sacrificial love of Jesus embodies God’s plan for humanity’s redemption. This act of divine love sets the stage for a new covenant, where animal sacrifices are no longer needed, and the path to reconciliation with God is clear.

Grace and love are inseparable aspects of God’s character, calling us to a deeper relationship with the divine and with each other. As we navigate our spiritual journeys, the challenge lies in actively responding to this grace, embodying it in our lives, and extending it to others in a world in desperate need of both love and grace.

C-J: In many cultures throughout history, the sacrifice of innocents has been practiced, but I view it as transitional and transformational. Surrendering to God’s will, whether at a specific moment, situation, or upon realizing our deficiencies, is where grace manifests. This revelation is crucial for acknowledging and receiving grace, as its reception signifies restoration. 

Growing up entails taking responsibility and making choices that yield positive outcomes, aligning with the narratives and contexts of our traditions. As adherents to Christian values, our lives should mirror those beliefs, making us ambassadors of our faith. People should see the Holy Spirit within us. Relationship, as Dr. Weaver highlighted with the Garden of Eden example, has always been central, underscoring the ever-present grace.

David: The theme of relationship keeps cropping up in our discussions. The prodigal son and his father had an inherent father-son bond, but the son’s disdain for his father in demanding his inheritance early and and running off to spend it in the fleshpots contrasts with the father’s unconditional love. This narrative illustrates that while striving for a relationship with God is laudable, every human inherently possesses a “de facto” relationship with God by virtue of being His children, whether we seek to nurture and develop that relationship or not.

Don: Our connection to God isn’t superficial; it’s intrinsic, akin to sharing God’s DNA, indicating a profound, molecular relationship.

David: Indeed, with the Holy Spirit, it’s as though we carry a part of God within us.

Don: We observe the fusion of divinity with humanity, transcending mere biological processes to embody a divine inheritance, signifying our shared DNA with God, not just in a physical sense but spiritually, which I find extraordinary.

David: The crux is our recognition and acceptance of this relationship and its implications. The challenge lies in people’s refusal to acknowledge the Holy Spirit within them, making it difficult to foster any relationship with it. Yet, from the Holy Spirit’s perspective, the connection remains intact, irrespective of our awareness or acceptance, underlining the indelible nature of our divine heritage.

Michael: I’m wrestling with the notion that God embodies both love and judgment. It seems paradoxical to me. If God is purely love, how does judgment fit into the picture? This raises fundamental questions about the nature of religion and our relationship with God. We often focus on what we must do to express love towards God, emphasizing agape, but this discussion seems to invert the perspective.

C-J: Judgment is a term that might feel outdated, especially when considering modern understandings of spirituality. Reframing this concept through the lens of discernment or guidance by the Holy Spirit offers a warmer, more constructive approach. This shift is crucial for personal transformation. It’s about recognizing and overcoming the lies we’ve believed about ourselves, which cloud our true identity. In this light, judgment in the Old Testament evolves into grace in the New Testament, highlighting a path to healing and realization of our intrinsic worth, facilitated by the Holy Spirit within us.

Don: Jason has suggested viewing judgment not solely as condemnation but as a means of vindication. This perspective aligns with the concept of grace, where judgment becomes a source of joy, liberating us from potential condemnation. Through God’s grace, judgment is transformed into an opportunity for affirmation and redemption, illustrating the depth of divine love and its capacity to restore and validate our inherent value.

Anonymous: I believe Grace, God, and Jesus are unified in love. Grace may carry a more profound spiritual significance akin to life itself; the grace of God guarantees our eternal life. Since God is love, it equates to grace, given that both God and grace are eternal, culminating in eternal life through God’s love and grace. Therefore, they are synonymous. 

Receiving God’s grace compels us to love Him in return. This is echoed in Deuteronomy and by Jesus, instructing us to love God with all our heart, mind, strength, and soul. Achieving the love of God in our hearts and loving Him with our entire being grants us eternal life. Nothing more is required than to cherish the love of God. 

We can discuss His love and grace and all His virtues, but without love for God, we lack everything. This love is not merely intellectual but must be experienced and felt, realizing our hearts are aflame with love. Once we reach this stage, we truly understand. It’s an experiential journey rather than a purely intellectual one. 

Despite much discussion, some fail to grasp or fully embrace this concept. Without such love for God—and by extension, for mankind, which God also commands—we remain distant, regardless of our knowledge of God. Despite the constant availability of His love and grace, without engagement, we miss out on all the benefits: meaningful relationships, justification, sanctification, eternal life, and adherence to the law, all motivated by love. 

Our sole response should be to love God with all our heart, soul, strength, and mind.

Don: Let’s conclude with that excellent summary.

* * *

I said last week that grace and judgment are fundamental religious concepts with deep theological significance and that they play a crucial role in shaping moral and ethical perspectives across the five major faiths—Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Judaism. Last week we discussed grace as a global concept. Today, it’s judgment day.

In religious contexts, judgment typically involves the assessment of an individual’s actions and character, both in this life and in the afterlife, usually resulting in reward or punishment. In one way or another, the concept is enshrined in the moral and ethical frameworks of all faiths, which then influence adherents’ behavior and practices.

While grace is generally held to offer forgiveness, compassion, and mercy, judgment underpins moral and ethical behaviors in all religious traditions. Both grace and judgment contribute to a universal framework for understanding human nature, divine nature, and the relationship between the two. Despite some differences, in essence all faiths view judgement and grace as moral, social, and spiritual guides: 

First, they are Moral guides to what is ethical behavior. The promise of divine judgment discourages acting badly, while the hope of divine grace offers forgiveness and redemption when we do act badly. In all faiths, judgment emphasizes that our actions have consequences, either in this life or an afterlife.

Second, grace and judgment are Social guides, with grace inspiring acts of charity and compassion while judgment seeks to impose justice and fairness in societies. 

And third, they are Spiritual guides that encourage a deeper reflection on one’s life, behavior, and spiritual journey.

In sum, then, grace and judgment are not just theological concepts but are deeply intertwined with the moral and ethical fabric of all religious communities, guiding beliefs, behaviors, and practices. They counterbalance one another. Grace is the carrot, punishment the stick; but while grace pre-empts the consequences of judgment it does not—as far as I can tell—pre-empt judgment itself, and neither does judgment does not pre-empt grace.

But all that refers primarily to divine judgment. What about human judgment? We’ve discussed this in depth in the past, and concluded that the Christian exhortation to “Judge not, let ye be judged” (Matthew 7:1) is about the last and best word on the subject. But the principle of refraining from judgment—at least, from harsh judgment—and the principle of exercising compassion after judgment—is that grace?—can be found in various forms across many religions:

Islam posits that an individual’s deeds determines his or her fate in the afterlife. But in this life, the Qur’an and Hadiths emphasize compassion, mercy, and not being harsh in judgments. For instance, a Hadith (in Sahih Muslim) says, “The merciful are shown mercy by the Most Merciful. Be merciful on the earth, and you will be shown mercy from Who is above the heavens.” While not a direct equivalent to “judge not, lest you be judged,” this does stress the importance of mercy and compassion, which can be extended to judgments.

Buddhism teaches the concept of “Right Judgment” or “Right View” as part of the Noble Eightfold Path. It encourages seeing things with clarity and understanding the nature of things without prejudice. While it doesn’t explicitly say “judge not,” it promotes a kind of judgment that is free from ill will and delusion. Like Hinduism, as we shall see in a minute, Buddhism ties the concept of judgment to Karma, believing that ethical actions lead to favorable outcomes and unethical actions lead to suffering, but they see it more as a natural law of cause and effect rather than as a divine law.

Hinduism posits that judgment is integral or inherent to Karma, the force that determines an individual’s fate in the next, reincarnated, life based on his or her actions in this life. But it emphasizes understanding the self and practicing compassion and non-harming (ahimsa). The Hindu scriptures—the Bhagavad Gita and the Upanishads—apparently (ChatGPT tells me) don’t directly say “judge not,” but the underlying philosophy discourages harsh judgment and promotes the concept of the unity of all beings, which then naturally leads to softer judgmental attitudes.

Judaism considers God to be the ultimate judge but also posits that divinely inspired Rabbinic law and ethics reflect divine principles of justice and fairness in everyday life and that the community has a significant role to play in them. However, the Talmud and other rabbinic literature teaches the importance of “favorable” judgment. I’m not sure but I take that to mean we should always look for saving graces in a sinner when judging him or her. A scripture called the Pirkei Avot (Ethics of the Fathers), which is a part of the Mishnah, itself a part of the Talmud, says: “Judge every person favorably.” This aligns with the Hindu idea of being cautious in judgment and looking for the good in others, although it doesn’t directly parallel the Christian admonition to refrain from judgment.

Christians have a dualistic view of judgment: Divine vs. earthly judgment. In divine judgment, individuals will be judged by God or Christ in the afterlife in the Last Judgment. This divine judgment is a central eschatological event that determines the eternal fate of souls. John the Apostle described it in Revelation 20:11-15:

Then I saw a great white throne and him who was seated on it. The earth and the heavens fled from his presence, and there was no place for them. And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books. The sea gave up the dead that were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead that were in them, and each person was judged according to what they had done. Then death and Hades were thrown into the lake of fire. The lake of fire is the second death. Anyone whose name was not found written in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire.

On the other hand, earthly judgment in Christianity, guided by passages like Matthew 7:1-5, encourages discernment while cautioning against hypocrisy. Christians are advised to judge fairly and humbly, recognizing their own imperfections. 

While Aquinas discusses judgment, particularly in the context of the Last Judgment and moral judgment, the categories are less distinct than those of grace (which we discussed last week). However, he and Christian theology in general posits four different aspects of judgment:

Particular Judgment refers to the belief that each individual will be judged immediately upon death, as opposed to a future final judgment. (Hebrews 9:27.)

Judgment of Nations refers to the judgment of nations based on their treatment of the most vulnerable. (Matthew 25:31-46.)

Self-Judgment encourages believers to examine themselves and their actions in light of their faith and morals. Paul wrote: “But if we were more discerning with regard to ourselves, we would not come under such judgment.” (1 Corinthians 11:31.) 

The Last Judgment (or Final Judgment) is the belief in a final and eternal judgment by God of all humanity. (Revelation 20:11-15 and Matthew 25:31-46:)

But when the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the holy angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. Before him all the nations will be gathered, and he will separate them one from another, as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. He will set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then the King will tell those on his right hand, ‘Come, blessed of my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in. I was naked, and you clothed me. I was sick, and you visited me. I was in prison, and you came to me.’

Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry, and feed you; or thirsty, and give you a drink? When did we see you as a stranger, and take you in; or naked, and clothe you? When did we see you sick, or in prison, and come to you?’

The King will answer them, ‘Most certainly I tell you, because you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’ Then he will say also to those on the left hand, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire which is prepared for the devil and his angels; for I was hungry, and you didn’t give me food to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave me no drink; I was a stranger, and you didn’t take me in; naked, and you didn’t clothe me; sick, and in prison, and you didn’t visit me.’

Then they will also answer, saying, Lord, when did we see you hungry, or thirsty, or a stranger, or naked, or sick, or in prison, and didn’t help you?

Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Most certainly I tell you, because you did not do it to one of the least of these, you didn’t do it to me.’ These will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.

To sum up some of the salient features of judgment as viewed globally:

Islam also has a Day of Judgment, the Yawm al-Qiyamah, the day when all individuals will be resurrected and judged by Allah for their deeds. This judgment determines one’s eternal destiny in the afterlife. It emphasizes personal accountability and the ultimate justice of Allah. Every action, thought, and intention is taken into account, underscoring the importance of living a righteous and ethical life in accordance with Islamic teachings. It sounds very much like Christianity and Judaism, doesn’t it?

In contrast to these Abrahamic religions, Hinduism focuses on the law of Karma and reincarnation, where actions in this life directly affect one’s future lives. Divine judgment is less emphasized; instead, the focus is on the moral cause and effect governed by Karma. Good actions lead to positive outcomes in future lives, while negative actions result in hardships. This system of moral retribution encourages ethical living and personal responsibility, providing a self-regulating mechanism for moral behavior.

Similarly, in Buddhism, judgment is primarily self-imposed through the laws of Karma. It’s not a judgment by a divine being but a natural law where ethical living and personal responsibility are crucial. The aim is to avoid suffering and achieve enlightenment, with the understanding that one’s actions have direct consequences on their journey towards spiritual awakening.

Judaism sees God as the ultimate judge, but earthly judgment, too, holds significant importance to Jews, as reflected in Rabbinic law and ethics, which seek to apply divine principles to everyday life, with an emphasis on justice and fairness. Thus, the Jewish understanding of judgment intertwines divine commandments with ethical living, and it stresses the community’s role in upholding justice.

They all view judgment as having consequences, though to Hindus and Buddhists, at least, the consequences are actual in this life or the next, reincarnated, life on earth; while to Christians and perhaps Moslems, they seem to be more potential than actual, because of the intervention of grace. It is frankly not clear to me how the Judaic balance between grace and judgment works.

Nevertheless, despite these differences, the concept of judgment consistently serves as a universal guiding principle for moral and ethical conduct—as does grace, as discussed last week. Whether it’s the divine judgment of the afterlife or the mundane consequences of actions here on earth, the idea of judgment profoundly influences the beliefs and behaviors of adherents in these diverse faith traditions.

So: Are any of these views more correct than others? Is there a universal definition of judgment that would not contradict any individual faith’s definition? Does all this make judgment easier to understand, or more difficult?  

Donald: It seems that the fundamental understanding of judgment is part of being human. We’re taught early on that there are consequences to behavior. This could explain why different faith perspectives include judgment as part of their religious practice and understanding. So, is the reason faith groups try to control behavior linked to this concept of judgment? Does a church try to control one’s behavior in the context of faith?

Michael: I think it’s a good observation that judgment is part of all the major religions, which were, at some point, not just spiritual guides but also mechanisms for controlling behavior, as those were the societal rules dictated by religion. Judgment is a crucial part of having a functional society. The question now is whether we can separate religion from judgment, considering we have civil structures that might offer a more efficient or perhaps better mechanism for administering judgment than religion. 

Does religion still need to serve that function like it did 2,000 or 3,000 years ago? And how would religion look if it were only confined to the spiritual domain, without being forced to serve a civil or societal role in that way?

C-J: Last night, I was watching the second half of Ken Burns’ biography on Benjamin Franklin. It discussed how politics, which can be akin to a form of religion for people, emphasizes the importance of diplomacy, comparable to the concept of grace. It’s like assessing how much to tolerate before saying, “Okay, I’m done.” This relates to Benjamin Franklin’s approach to the King of France, proposing mutual benefits in supporting the American war against Britain, needing money and troops to establish a democracy instead of a monarchy. 

Drawing parallels to a faith belief system, there’s a hierarchy of power, rules, and distribution of wealth. I thought of “Lord of the Flies,” where might equals right. It’s a cautionary tale for religion, highlighting the cost of power, not just in immediate terms but also in societal, quality of life, and environmental impacts.

Considering current events like the situation in Gaza, with the Israeli Prime Minister’s staunch stance influenced by a belief system and the “mandate of heaven,” it’s clear that religion and politics are intertwined. They both create rules, have leaders, expectations, discipline, and judgment. They delineate ownership and protections under the law. This complexity means that these aspects can’t be easily separated; they are deeply entangled. Religion, with its divine mandate, often sanctifies actions. This is evident in historical instances, like Constantine’s vision before a battle, reinforcing the interplay between politics and religion. Both share similar messages, and it’s a matter of which one takes precedence at the negotiation table. Diplomacy, in this context, represents grace.

Donald: Surrender is another concept to this conversation that probably needs to be discussed. We’ve talked about grace as an act of God, but what about our response to grace? Is it simply surrender, asking for forgiveness, or can we receive grace without even requesting forgiveness? By definition, grace might not require anything from us. However, the idea of surrender is certainly embedded in our understanding of faith. It may not be the word ‘surrender’ itself, but something adjacent to it, like asking for forgiveness or expressing remorse.

Don: The issue of judgment is indeed complex. Beyond grace, I recall a conversation with a Muslim friend about judgment and grace. Without grace, judgment becomes a matter of how bad one needs to be to fail or how good to pass. This quantitative aspect is challenging. How good must I be, or how bad can I be? Since perfection is unattainable, who decides? God does, but are there any metrics or parameters to gauge if I’ll pass or fail judgment? 

Grace, on the other hand, eliminates the need for such metrics. It’s not about cause and effect but receiving what you don’t deserve. The issue of quantifying behavior is troubling but has been stressed by religion and the church as crucial for coming out on the right side of judgment.

Carolyn: When we’ve fully surrendered to the Lord, our sins are said to be cast into the depths of the sea. What then does judgment entail? If upon death we are judged, doesn’t grace cover those sins already?

C-J: Isn’t there an aspect where it’s said, ‘Go and sin no more’? You must understand what made the sin a sin and take responsibility for not continuing in that sin, especially habitually. It’s about relationship and maturity, taking responsibility for harm done to ourselves and others. When I sin, especially in anger towards someone, I first seek God’s guidance to understand my shortcomings—why I was bothered, why I reacted that way, and how I justified it. It starts with my relationship with God, and then I can approach others to discuss and move forward, whether it leads to lasting peace or a severing of ties, but at least to clear the air and give the other person a voice.

Donald: But the question is, is it necessary? That’s a relationship aspect you’re talking about, going to another person to clear the air or make peace. If you were brought to anger, will God require you to talk to that person and ask forgiveness seven times seventy? Does grace prevail independently of our actions? Is it a blanket over everything, or do we need to address each situation, asking for forgiveness where we didn’t, in order to receive grace?

C-J: If you’re dealing with a past hurt involving a child and an adult, it’s impossible to go back and fix that. You have to meet at the current time and place. When someone says, “You hurt me,” I try to understand the unspoken pain. My intention is not to replicate trauma. If I don’t know the person well, I may assume they’re overreacting or responding to some trauma. I don’t think God operates like that.

Donald: So, it’s about the relationship. Let’s not focus on harm done to others. Suppose you stole something and never corrected it. Will grace prevail even if you didn’t return the stolen item?

C-J: The theft could be of trust.

Donald: I mean a physical item. How extensive is grace? Is it a blanket over all sin?

C-J: The Bible says grace is sufficient unto itself. We don’t need to dissect it. It would be too complex to unravel every situation. Grace meets us where we are, allowing us to move forward. We should receive it, learn from it, and extend it to others. It’s about acceptance and love without further conditions. That’s significant.

Kiran: This is the dilemma I’ve long struggled with. On one hand, God says He has thrown all our sins away and then tells us to ‘Go and sin no more.’ This creates a mental conflict. Did He really forgive all my sins, and if so, why can’t I live a perfect life? The issue is in the transformation. 

Take Paul, for instance. Before his conversion, when he was Saul, he committed grievous acts. But at the gate of Damascus, he faced judgment, understood the enormity of his errors, received grace, and was transformed. Receiving grace means not just forgiveness for past, present, and future sins, but also the presence of Jesus, led by the Spirit, which guides and convicts us. This doesn’t mean we become sinless, but we become aware and struggle with our sins.

And look at Peter, who spent years with Jesus yet still faltered, when he denied Jesus three times. He judged himself, which was necessary for him to receive grace. Both Peter and Paul admitted to their imperfections, yet they were led by the Spirit. They were aware of their capacity for wrongdoing and strove to do good, influenced by the Spirit.

The misconception is thinking that accepting grace turns us into holy beings who never sin. Rather, it makes us aware of our potential for evil, and we wrestle with ourselves to do good. When God says He has thrown away our sins, it includes past, present, and future sins. But this awareness doesn’t lead to carelessness; instead, it instills a fear of the harm our actions can cause. Grace transforms us. It brings Jesus into our lives, and His presence challenges and changes us, just as it did Paul. 

The transformative power of grace is often overlooked. When we receive grace, we don’t return to our old ways; we’re changed fundamentally, bothered by the wrong and driven to become better. So, when Jesus throws our sins away, that’s it. There’s no need to worry about it anymore.

Don: If we liken grace to oxygen, widely available, free, and sufficient for everyone, what is the spiritual equivalent of putting a bag over your head, thereby depriving yourself of oxygen? This relates to Donald’s question about what we need to do to receive grace. It’s ever-present and abundant, but there is a judgment leading to destruction for some. It’s not simply a matter of doing too few good deeds or too many bad ones. It’s more about deliberately refusing the grace available to us. The question then becomes, what does it mean spiritually to deprive ourselves of this essential ‘oxygen’?

Carolyn: Once we have grace, it’s because we have accepted the Holy Spirit. The concern often is whether it’s possible to lose grace. Although we may falter, I believe it’s difficult to lose grace. The unforgivable sin might be rejecting the Holy Spirit. Having the Holy Spirit means grace covers us, and He is our pathway to heaven. Despite our sins in this sinful world, they are forgiven under grace. The key is maintaining a close relationship with Christ.

Don: I agree. But this leads us back to the question of the action or mechanism that causes us to reject grace. How do we isolate ourselves from this ever-ready supply of grace? Consider the story of the prodigal son: one son accepts the father’s grace and rejoins the household, while the elder son essentially puts a ‘plastic bag’ over his head, refusing the father’s grace. My question is, what limits our access to grace voluntarily? Why do we do it? And what is the spiritual equivalent of this self-imposed limitation?

Anonymous: I find guidance on this topic in Micah 6:8, which says:

 “He has shown you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” 

Our human nature is inherently proud, making it difficult to walk humbly with God. This was my conclusion after starting from Exodus 34:7, which states:

“[He] keeps loving kindness for thousands, [He] forgives iniquity, transgression, and sin but will by no means leave the guilty unpunished, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children and the grandchildren to the third and fourth generation.”

This passage initially seemed harsh. Why should one suffer for the sins of their father? However, my understanding evolved. God isn’t against man, but against sin. Sin is inherent in us, and when we persist in pride and sin, our children and descendants learn these sinful ways. They inherit sin not only by nature but through our actions. If the first person repents and turns to God, seeking forgiveness, God begins the process of eradicating sin, not only in that individual but potentially across generations. It may take several generations to eliminate this sin, but with God’s intervention, there can be a fundamental change in our inclination towards sin.

Then, Psalm 116 says:

“How can I repay the Lord for all his goodness to me? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the Lord. I will fulfill my vows to the Lord in the presence of His people.”

This implies that our response to God’s grace should be to accept the offered salvation. This isn’t about repaying God but simply receiving the grace He freely offers. This understanding paints a different picture of God, not as vindictive but as one who wishes to help us overcome sin. The first step is accepting God’s grace and allowing it to transform us and our descendants, eradicating sin over time.

Reflecting on Isaiah 59:17, which says, “He puts on righteousness as his breastplate, and the helmet of salvation on his head. He put on the garment of vengeance and wrapped himself in zeal as a cloak,” I noticed the language of war. Words like ‘breastplate,’ ‘helmet,’ and ‘vengeance’ suggest passion, wrath, and a readiness for battle. Initially, this led me to think of judgment, as if God were fighting us. However, it became clear that the battle is not against us, but against sin. The ‘equipment’ of war – righteousness, salvation, zeal – are inherently good. 

This shifts the perspective from God waging war against people to God combating sin to save and bring people to righteousness.

The idea of God’s zeal is also important. Zeal can be destructive, like Paul’s initial fervor against Christians, or protective and loving, like Jesus’ zeal for the house of God. God’s righteous zeal is fully committed to eradicating sin, which is ultimately beneficial for us.

Then, considering Romans 8:1, “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” it brings a sense of relief and clarity. This verse suggests that judgment is not a concern for those united with Christ. The focus shifts to who is with Jesus and who is not, as seen in Isaiah 59, which details the people’s sinfulness yet also God’s willingness to save them.

At the end of this chapter, the imagery shifts to Jesus as the one who will conquer the consequences of this war against sin, referring to His sacrifice. This brings hope that ultimately, through Jesus, sin will be overcome, leading to a state where sin no longer prevails. It’s a complex reflection, intertwining themes of judgment, war, sin, and salvation, culminating in the hope and assurance found in Jesus Christ.

Micah 6:8 (above) encapsulates the essence of what God desires from us. What does God want from you but to love mercy and to walk humbly? It highlights the nature of God’s grace. He is in a relentless battle against Satan, aiming to eradicate evil from the world. The reason we might ‘put a bag over our heads,’ refusing this grace, is likely not due to outright rejection but a lack of understanding. The Bible, through numerous examples, shows that God is not against us but against the sin within us. He aims to save us while destroying the sin. Those who perceive judgment as something harmful to people are missing this crucial point.

Don: We’ll continue this discussion next week. Anon has introduced an important aspect: God loves the sinner but is at war with the sin, not with us. This perspective is a positive and insightful foundation for our next conversation.

* * *

Grace and judgment are fundamental religious concepts with deep theological significance. They play a crucial role in shaping moral and ethical perspectives across the five major faiths—Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and Judaism. In this first of two talks, I discuss grace. Judgment will follow next week. (You have been warned! 😉 )

Global Views of Grace

All five faiths recognize grace as the free and unmerited favor or benevolence of a divine being—a gift from God of forgiveness, mercy, love, or salvation, that has not been earned or merited by our actions and deeds. That seems to be the universal definition of grace. But there are some differences between the perspectives of the five faiths, and one question I want to ask you is: Are these differences major, or minor? Are they differences that make a difference?

In Christianity, grace is central to the doctrine of salvation. Christ’s mission was essentially a mission of grace, of saving sinners. Jesus was (is) God’s gift of salvation.

In Islam, grace is an attribute of Allah. His name is often followed immediately by the term: “The Most Gracious.”

In Hinduism, grace is the benevolence shown by certain deities towards humans in helping them to achieve liberation from the mundane (I would say vicious) cycle of death and reincarnation. I think that liberation amounts to what we call salvation.

In Buddhism, grace is the compassion of enlightened beings—humans who have found the truth about life and thus can stop being reborn because they have reached Nirvana. This is apparently pretty much the same as the Hindu view, except that there is no deity behind it. 

In Judaism, grace is God’s favor and mercy. It coexists in balance with justice and righteousness.

So what does this have to do with the good people of Peoria or Peking or Dubai or Delhi or Yalta or Yangon? In fact, the concept of grace underpins moral and ethical behaviors of all of them, in all religious traditions. It provides a universal framework for understanding human nature and divine nature and the relationship between the two. 

Despite their differences, in essence all faiths view grace and judgement as moral, social, and spiritual guides: 

First, it is a Moral guide to what is “ethical behavior.” It is the carrot of forgiveness and redemption that rewards and thereby encourages ethical behavior, while the stick of divine judgment punishes and thereby discourages unethical behavior.

Second, grace is a Social guide, inspiring social acts of charity and compassion.

And third, grace is a Spiritual guide that encourages a deeper reflection on one’s life, behavior, and spiritual journey.

In sum, then, grace is not just a dry theological concept but is something deeply intertwined with the moral and ethical fabric of ourselves, our faiths, and our communities, guiding our beliefs, behaviors, and practices.

Again, one question for you all today, therefore, is going to be: If all major faiths are so close in their understanding of grace, why do they fight with one another? Are the differences in their concepts of grace not as minor as they appear (to me) to be?

But first let me go back pick apart the various faiths’ views of grace a little further, to help us decide whether the faiths are in fact as close as they seem (to me) to be, from on high, as it were. I’ll deal briefly with the Islamic, Hindu, Buddhist, and Judaic views before going into greater depth with the Christian view of grace.

In Hinduism, the Mahabharata introduced the concept of Kripa, Sanskrit for ‘pity’ or ‘mercy’ as divine grace that is essential for spiritual growth and liberation from the mundane (I call it vicious) cycle of birth, death and re-birth. It  complements personal effort (Purushartha) in achieving liberation (Moksha) from the cycle of rebirth. This relationship between divine grace and individual endeavor acknowledges and values human efforts or what Christians call “works” and also sees divine intervention as a crucial and benevolent force guiding spiritual progress.

Buddhism does not emphasize divine grace per se but instead focuses on qualities like compassion (Karuna) and loving-kindness (Metta) in humans. These qualities are seen as essential in the journey towards enlightenment, towards Nirvana, and as such they constitute an internal form of grace within the individual. But while the emphasis is on individual effort—on “works”—those efforts are bolstered by community support (Sangha). In that sense, the Buddhist journey towards spiritual awakening is part-individual, part communal.

In Judaism, grace, or Chen, is often associated with favor and mercy. It reflects a divine benevolence that coexists alongside justice and righteousness. The Jewish understanding of grace includes a harmonious balance between God’s merciful nature (the carrot) and His commitment to justice (the stick), suggesting that God has a complex and multifaceted nature—one that “passeth all understanding,” so to speak.

And then we have Christianity and things start to get more complicated. In general, Christianity today seems to focus on grace as an unmerited favor from God that is crucial for salvation. Ephesians 2:8-9 states, 

‘For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.’ 

This highlights grace as a gift, not earned by human deeds but bestowed by God’s love. So far, so simple. 

But then it gets messy. In the 13th century, the Christian theologian Thomas Aquinas left us with five categories of grace. They are detailed in his work Summa Theologica, or Summary of Theology. They can be summarized as follows: 

First, Sanctifying Grace—an habitual gift, a stable and supernatural disposition that perfects the soul to enable it to live with God and act by His love. (ST Part I-II, Question 110, Article 2.)

Second, Actual Grace, which refers to God’s interventions, whether at the beginning of conversion (to belief in Jesus Christ, I assume) or in the course of the work of sanctification. (ST Part I-II, Question 109, Article 9.)

Third, Sacramental Graces, which are conferred through the sacraments, each sacrament bestowing a specific grace, like the grace of baptism and the grace of penance, and so on. (ST Part III, Question 62, Article 1.)

Fourth, Special Grace or Charisms, which are graces intended for the common good of the Church. They include prophecy, healing, and speaking in tongues. (ST Part I-II, Question 111, Article 4.)

And fifth, Gratuitous Grace, which is given for specific tasks or ministries, not necessarily for the sanctification of the person receiving it. (ST Part I, Question 111, Article 1.)

And to stir the pot even further, other Christian theologians and scholars have since mixed in. They include:

Augustine of Hippo (St. Augustine), who wrote (actually, in the 4th century, so preceding Aquinas by 800 years) about grace in the context of original sin and free will. Augustine emphasized the necessity of divine grace for salvation. (See his “On the Spirit and the Letter,” “On Nature and Grace”, ”Confessions” and “City of God”)

In the 15th and 16th centuries, Martin Luther contributed another influential concept—that of sola gratia (grace alone), the belief that salvation comes by divine grace or “unmerited favor” rather than by sola scriptura—adherence to scripture alone). (See his “The Freedom of a Christian.”)

In the 16th century, John Calvin taught about predestination and the sovereignty of God’s grace. While acknowledging “common” grace as undeserved grace bestowed by God, Calvin argued there is a special or “saving” grace given only to a select few whom God has chosen to redeem. According to Calvin’s “doctrine of election” God predestined some people to salvation while, apparently, leaving the rest to hope for common grace. (This is as I understand it. I could be wrong.)  (See his “Institutes of the Christian Religion.”)

In the 18th century John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, distinguished between three aspects of grace: 

Prevenient Grace: This is the grace that “goes before” or precedes the individual’s decision to believe. Wesley believed that prevenient grace enables humans to freely respond to the Gospel. It’s a kind of divine nudging, bringing people to the point where they can choose to accept or reject God’s salvation.

Justifying Grace: This is the grace received through faith in Jesus Christ. It involves forgiveness of sins and being made right with God. Wesley saw this as a pivotal moment of conversion or rebirth, where one’s relationship with God is fundamentally transformed.

Sanctifying Grace: This refers to the grace that works in believers after conversion, helping them to grow in love and holiness. Wesley emphasized the process of sanctification, where believers are progressively transformed to be more like Christ in their thoughts, words, and actions.

Wesley’s emphasis on the transformative power of grace is a key feature of Methodist theology and its focus on personal and social holiness.

In the 20th-century, theologian Karl Barth (who died in 1968) reinterpreted grace (and judgment) in light of the challenges posed by modernity. He emphasized God’s grace as the central theme of the Christian gospel. (See his “Church Dogmatics.”)

And finally, Dietrich Bonhoeffer (died 1945) was a Lutheran pastor and theologian known for his resistance to the Nazi regime. He developed the concept of “cheap grace” versus “costly grace.” His proposals seem to me to very relevant in light of our discussions on grace and the parables, so he is worth quoting at some length. He wrote: 

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.

Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “ye were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.” (See “The Cost of Discipleship.”)

Bonhoeffer lived up to, and died by, these beliefs. He was sent to a concentration camp and eventually executed by the Nazis.

So to summarize: In general, while the concept of grace varies across religions, universally it represents a form of divine kindness and benevolence that enriches human spiritual experience. Whether through salvation, mercy, liberation, or enlightenment, grace forms a foundational element in the relationship between the divine and the human across faith traditions.

So my first question is: What is there to fight about? Why don’t we all practice the grace we all preach? Do we have to be as brave as Bonhoeffer? Second: Do the different faith perspectives on grace represent major, or minor, differences? Do these differences make a difference? And third: Is there a better perspective on grace? Is it conceivable that all the great faiths, and the great Christian theologians, have missed the point? I count about 10 varieties of grace in Christianity alone. One has to wonder: Have too many cooks spoiled the broth of grace?

Donald: It seems to me that something pivotal in this conversation is the word repentance. What is the role of repentance? Is repentance actually to change my behavior, or is it to have God change His behavior toward me? If I don’t repent, does that change God’s grace toward me? No! If I don’t feel the need to repent, what’s the role of repentance?

Don: I would respond to that question by going back to the story of the prodigal son. He has an elaborate repentance rehearsed in his mind. He sees the Father and begins his repentance story. And the father cuts him off completely, doesn’t even allow him to finish his repentance, and invites him back to the house for a party. 

So it speaks to our need to somehow actuate God’s grace—we just can’t let God be gracious. Is it a common theme in the various different views of grace between and within the world’s major faiths that we feel compelled in some way to actuate, to effectuate, to make active and make real God’s grace; that somehow there’s something that we have to do? May that’s the difference in the various religious approaches to grace—how much we have to do versus how much is God’s prerogative.

Michael: Most religions have very similar definitions of grace and seem to think that you have to do something to earn it. Bonhoeffer said that even if grace is a gift, you still have to ask for it, continually. You have to do something, and that’s the predominant Christian view. But do you really have to ask for grace?

David: It’s interesting that the father rejected his prodigal son’s attempt at repentance. He just didn’t care about repentance. “Shut up and let’s party! We’re just so happy to have you back!” he says. But look at all the churches with billboards outside saying, “Repent!” Christianity makes a big deal about repentance. But in the prodigal son parable, the father (God) doesn’t give a fig about it.

Carolyn: Don’t you think that God reads our hearts? In the parable, the son had repented within his heart; God had read it fully. The simple fact that the prodigal son came home was a sign to the father that he had repented. It doesn’t have to be a verbal repentance.

C-J: I think it also implies an understanding that repentance is just a word saying, “I’m sorry, I did this.” But I think the prodigal son understood that sin produced the scars that it left on him. His lessons were hard-learned and I think that when we truly repent, we don’t look back. We are so grateful for the grace. 

I agree with what Carolyn said. It doesn’t have to be a verbal act; you have a depth of understanding of what those choices produced, that separates us from God.

Donald: Where a pastor at the end of the sermon makes a call, is that repenting? Or is that joining? What’s the role of the church in that? In fact, quite often, it’s a call toward baptism or rebaptism. I guess, rebaptism would be repentance. So that is a situation where they visually want people to stand up in front of someone else and witness your repentance. (Just to make it even more complex!)

Don: But there’s something quite reassuring about repenting. The idea of some kind of consequence for bad behavior is deeply rooted in our psyche. There’s a compelling need to do something. The idea that we could get something for nothing, get a gift without asking for it, is so difficult for us to understand and embrace, and that’s what makes grace such a difficult concept to get our minds around. 

Perhaps that is one of the reasons why we convolute it so much, making it into something that it’s not. The notion that we have to do something in order to be the recipient of God’s grace is deeply rooted in our soul.

Donald: According to ChatGPT, the role of repentance is acknowledgment of wrongdoing, regret and sorrow, acceptance of responsibility in an attempt to change.

David: God didn’t care about any of those things in the prodigal son story. The prodigal son didn’t come home to the Father simply because of repentance. He came home because he was suffering. He was hurting, he was starving. He came home to get food and shelter. It was not because he felt so sorry he just had to apologize to his dad. It was, “I need to go home because I’m in trouble. I need help, and home is where the help is” Whether or not he repented was completely irrelevant to God. I don’t believe repentance is necessary. 

I do agree with Carolyn that there repentance may be felt in the heart. But what I think God is looking for in the heart is not so much repentance as it is the recognition that we’re at the end of our tether, that we can’t do this alone anymore. To me, that’s not repentance. That’s not apologizing. Apologies don’t matter anymore when you’re about to die anyway. There’s no point in apologizing. The only thing left to do is to accept grace.

Donald: This has been quite a trying year for my family. Without other people’s support, it would have been a difficult year. It doesn’t seem that their generosity is based on spiritual things—they are just being good friends and neighbors. Where does all this goodness come from if it’s not based on spirituality? I just don’t get that. We tend to wrap the two together.

C-J: I think that the Spirit of God is present in those people who do good things. When you consider the motivation, they don’t appear to be aligned with a particular belief system, but that is the Spirit of God. I believe that there are many players on the stage. God gives us what we need, even if we don’t realize it, through circumstance, genetics, and place in time. 

I think the tapestry that God weaves for each of our lives is unique for His purpose and intention in our life. I’m grateful for those people who don’t just wait to be asked for help, like lifting the other end of a log, but instead notice a need and offer help. Then there are other people who are very solitary. They don’t ask for much. In fact, they’re almost invisible when they walk by, and they seem content. 

People need community; they want to be social beings. So it’s a whole array of actors on the stage, and each of us influences the other, some quietly, some loudly, some in a gentle way, some in a harsh way.

Reinhard: We repent and ask forgiveness from another individual in human relationships because we did something wrong. We feel guilty, maybe make a public confession, a family confession. In church, if we go against the church guidelines, there’s a need for repentance in the church. I think people return to God not because they are hungry. We ask repentance from God for all kinds of actions we commit against the rules and the law toward God. We feel sorry or guilty, we come to God for repentance. 

The idea of “costly” grace does not resonate much with me, because, as the Bible says: “the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 6:23); and “by grace, you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8); and: “Let the one who wishes take the water of life without cost” (Revelation 22:17). 

Salvation is the most important thing in our life for the future. The free gift of God, forgiveness, is very cheap. Yes, it cost the crucifixion of God on the cross, so we feel guilty and repent. We turn away from the bad habits that go against God’s will. 

Judgment is very much related to this topic. Paul wrote, “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” because when we do something wrong, we are judged accordingly and there would be consequences if not for: “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” and “those who walk not in the flesh, but in the Spirit of God.” 

We humans still do actions that cause offense to God. But when God was asked by his disciple, how many times should we forgive our fellow men, he replied “77 times.” So God continues to forgive us even though we continually fall short in the things we do in life. If we walk with the Spirit of God, we don’t worry about condemnation. We don’t worry about judgment. Once in God’s hands, we don’t have to worry about what we do as long as we walk in the Spirit.

Michael: There are many similarities in the definitions of grace between different religions. But the grace we talk about in this class is different from all of them. I’m not sure that the categorizations of grace are that important. Thomas Aquinas liked to put things into categories, but I’m not sure how relevant that is. 

Our definition of grace in this class seems different. It’s not the same as in any of the religions, even in Christianity.

David: I agree that our discussions on grace have given us another perspective on grace. Which is why I asked the question: Have the various faiths and theologians all got grace wrong? Is there a perspective we’re missing? Is grace something we haven’t yet really understood? Maybe, at least in this class, we’re starting to get a handle on it.

Carolyn: If we became more like little children, as the Bible advocates, what would be our perspective on grace through the eyes of a child?

C-J: Children can be pretty cruel. I think grace is about meeting a person where they are. So if you’ve had a bad day, you give them grace. If they’re venting, hurting, needy, dealing with mental illness, struggling with addiction, whatever it is, you meet them where they are at that moment in time. You try to be a part of that, letting God operate within us to be that healing balm. To lean in and step aside, and let that spiritual thing that Donald was saying, just the goodness, God’s residence in each of us, come through. 

Usually, anger is just pain. It’s not that they are angry; it means they are very sensitive. They don’t feel they can trust and they don’t feel safe. But I think grace, when we overthink things, like what I’m hearing Carolyn say, we overthink things. You know, if a child is crying and an adult picks up their child and comforts them, the child doesn’t really care so much about who it is. “I’m hungry, I’m scared, I’m alone. Can you help me?”

Donald: Like a child, the concept of grace would be getting away with something. “I got away with that.” They’re not thinking, “Well, they were nice to me.” If I deserve something and then I didn’t get it, “Well, I got away with that one.” It depends on the age, certainly, but the idea of grace from a child’s perspective sounds pretty complex to me. Grace seems like an adult conversation.

David: I beg to differ on this. To me, the life of a child is very, very simple compared to that of the adult. Children are easily terrified; they’re frightened, even of hunger. Their cry from hunger sounds (to me, when I was a parent of babies) like, “If I don’t get fed, I’m going to die!” It’s a primordial cry. 

Grace comes when they’re swept up into their mother’s arms, and their suffering ends. The baby is no longer near the end of its tether. The fear is gone. It’s simple. I agree with Carolyn. That’s what being born again is about. Being like a little child.

C-J: I think grace can be taught to children. Like with a kitten, if you’re playing with it and the kitten decides to bite you or scratch you to get away and play with something else, the child cries. I’m like, “Well, that wasn’t nice. I’m mad at that cat.” But if you can teach the child that it wasn’t about them, the cat was just being a cat, you know? And then the cat comes back, curls up in your lap, and purrs, and you go, “Well, what’s that about? I’m not ready for this. I’m still bleeding.” I think that grace is something we can and should teach children.

David: That’s judgment.

C-J: We do judge, indeed. In order to preserve life, we do judge. But when we’re talking about grace, well, the grace comes in by saying, “I know that you are just a cat. It’s part of your nature. I can’t expect you to bark like a dog. You’re a cat.” Or whatever it is, grace is acceptance. It’s looking at what you’re dealing with and allowing the lesson to reveal itself.

David: I find it very difficult to accept the notion that grace can be taught.

C-J: Well, okay. It’s a gift without strings. If we’re talking about Christian grace. But I’m talking about teaching an understanding of acceptance of where we are, and moving to understanding.

Don: I don’t get the sense in the stories of grace that we think about in the scriptures, that there is a great deal for mankind to do. I mean, take the story of the manna, which is a metaphor for grace. When we try to help God out by saying, “You don’t need to give us manna every day. You can give it to us once a week, and we’ll keep the leftovers,” the stuff rots; it’s toxic. The only thing that happens when we try to mess with God’s grace is to make it toxic, corrupt. Thus, the idea that we have something to do is a very difficult concept, both to understand and to accept.

Donald: How do obedience and grace fit together?

Don: It’s an excellent question we’ve struggled with before, and continue to struggle with, because the notion that we can get something for nothing is really a foreign concept to us. It’s what Dietrich Bonhoeffer calls “cheap” grace. But my contention is that cheap grace is grace that we feel we have to do something for God in order to make His grace somehow effective in our lives. And I think that’s a concept foreign to God.

C-J: I think obedience is tied to boundaries that keep us safe. Not in bondage, but obedience implies discipline, a sense of responsibility to others, a commitment. So it’s not just about a list of no’s. It has many layers to it. But I like the idea that once we put our hand to what grace really is, God loves us from the beginning, from the foundation of the world. And it was good. Until, metaphorically, humans decided that we wanted control, and we messed it up. We need those boundaries. We need that relationship. And it isn’t by our design, it’s God’s love.

Donald: Imagine you are reaching out your hand to God and God is reaching out his hand to you. Can you imagine something between those two hands that prevents them from touching each other? I cannot. Nothing can stop that relationship; God will reach down and touch.

Don: As Paul said in Romans 8, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come…”…this is pretty comprehensive, and goes to what Donald is saying… “…nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” So, I think that concept of separation is a foreign concept.

Michael: Could the principles taught by our religions or cultures or upbringing stand between those two hands reaching out to each other? Or is it adulthood?

Donald: It’s as if we put a glove on our hand, separating ourselves from that relationship. We do it through religion, through judgment, and all the rest. The two fingers should be able to meet without any interference, but we insist on wearing a glove.

Don: I’d go one step further and say that even if you don’t touch God, He still touches you.

Donald: That’s the crux. That’s the essence of this conversation.

Carolyn: Don’t you think it’s about the acceptance that God is God? We accept Him as a personal being in our lives. He realizes that, and that’s when He can demonstrate His grace. His grace is all there, but once we’ve accepted Him as our King and our Savior, all in all within us, you can never take that away. 

That’s where confession comes in—to keep it clean, so we have a full relationship, talking with each other, just like we went back to the Garden of Eden. Once the relationship was broken, Adam and Eve had to do something to alleviate the pain that came from the cutting off of that wonderful, wonderful time when there was nothing between God and Adam and Eve. But it fractured and we’re trying to repair it. But I think the grace is there, and once we realize who is giving the grace and accept Him, you can’t take that away. It’s always there. We may fall, but that’s where we have to forgive and ask for forgiveness.

Reinhard: Nobody can take away the grace of God except ourselves. That’s the responsibility we have. We have to have discipline to keep the grace. Don mentioned the metaphor of manna. I think grace is given to us, but we cannot abuse it. The Israelites in the exodus from Egypt tried to do what they wanted, keeping the manna, even after God told them not to. 

The same with grace: It’s available just like manna, but we have a responsibility to handle it properly. It’s free, and those who claim it will receive it. But there are rules and regulations in everything, as in worship. The responsibility of this is, to me, tied in with the freedom of choice. We cannot just put everything in God’s hands; we have to accept the responsibility that comes with the freedom of choice. 

The choice  is about love, involving two parties, humans and God. If we violate the covenant between us and God, we are on the wrong side. God never violates the covenant; it’s us. So if we stray from the path, we’re going to get punished. Yes, God’s forgiveness is always available, but it’s up to us to ask for it. 

God never does wrong. We are the ones who violate His law, so it is who must come back to Him. But He is always available. Grace is available all the time.

Don: The prodigal son gets punished, but not by God. His punishment is that he is foolish. He doesn’t recognize what he’s given up. But it’s not the father who is punishing him. The father welcomes him back. 

We have much more ground to cover on this topic of grace and judgment. Obedience and confession are key concepts that I think need to be sharpened in our thinking.

* * *

Postscript

After class ended and most people had left, the conversation was picked up again by Anonymous, who gave the following moving testimony:

Anonymous: I think of the story of Uzza, who tried to touch the Ark of the Covenant and was stricken dead. It’s something like this that shows God is saying, “Don’t even come close. Don’t try to do anything; I know how it works. I know how to reach people with grace, and start seeing fruit in them. But don’t ever put a finger to that.” Because really, we cannot do anything. 

And this talk about obedience and church and all the ramifications we talked about: They come later. They come after we open our eyes to grace and recognize that it’s been there all the time. Maybe the only thing we can control is how to react to this grace, and even that is not 100% under our control. It’s God who, as soon as He realizes some acceptance in our hearts towards His grace, starts the work. He does it. He makes us obedient, loving, everything He wants. 

In the beginning, and in the end, it’s not about us, except for this one thing: How do I choose to respond to this grace? Maybe the book of life in heaven, when we get there and it’s opened, is going to tell those who refused it, “Remember that day when I gave you my grace, and you recognized it? But look how you responded! I tried with you, I gave you more grace and more grace, and you kept refusing it. And that’s why your name is not here. Not because you did anything, not because you are disobedient, not because you didn’t read your Bible, not even because you’re a murderer, but because you refused my grace.” 

The prodigal son didn’t even have to come back to his father. Regardless of his motive, whether he realized how much he lost, or he really felt bad for the way he behaved, he just felt he needed to come back. God’s grace was always with him. When the father every day went out, looking towards that horizon, hoping he’d show up, that he’d come home. And before the prodigal even came back, the Lord knew his heart. When he started to recite his repentance, the Father stopped him, basically saying: “Don’t worry. I always accepted you, even when you took off from home. But I’m glad you’re coming back, so you can see my grace. Before, you didn’t see it. Maybe you’re coming back not for my sake, but for your food and dress in your comfort in my home. But I accept you because now I can show you my grace.” The grace was always there all the time.

When my daughter was a teenager, she drove me crazy. She was rebellious, a troublemaker. Yet out of nowhere, she would come and act as if she’s pure, like an angel, like she’s never done anything wrong. She came back expecting me to love her, to agree with her, to do whatever she wants, and to be nice to her. And I would say, “Wait, we need to talk about what happened.” And she would turn against me. 

Maybe she knew grace better than me, by forgetting and putting behind her the things that stood between me and her. But I, being ungrateful, had to resort to judgment. I had to go over her story with her, point out her mistakes, try to teach her lessons from it. Maybe I was so judgmental and she was so graceful. Today, I was thinking that maybe this is how God expects us to be. No matter how bad we are, no matter how far we get away from Him, His grace will always guarantee His acceptance. “Come back. You don’t have to tell me you’re sorry. Let’s party. Let’s be happy.”

It’s so broad, so wide, so big, so overwhelming, so deep. We cannot just wrap our minds around it. It’s through God’s grace that we even have a world. Grace is leading us to salvation, to eternal life, to repentance, to forgiving, to everything good. We could never get to this point as believers if it wasn’t for that.

Until just a few years ago, I did not know anything about grace. I was a believer, a churchgoer, I read my Bible, cried, prayed, tried it all. But if God had given up on me before I knew about grace, I would have still been a mix of sin and grace. I discovered what grace really is not through talk, or examples, or learning, or preaching, but through experience. Without experience, I would never have understood what grace is, and I would never have been changed from the inside out. 

So, there was nothing on my side to do. I never did anything. What is my responsibility? What am I to do? I simply respond to His grace, and He shows me how much more work I need to have Him do in my life. There’s a lot more, and I’m thankful for every inch of progress, for every event, for every circumstance, for every story He leads me through to see His grace better and to make me better. 

Every now and then, He shows me something bad I’ve been living with unknowingly. But because of His grace, because He loves me, He wants to get me to a better position, a better understanding, to become more like Him. There’s nothing on my part that I’m doing now. He’s doing the whole thing. But I’ve learned how to respond to His grace.

In the last few Sabbaths our discussion has centered on our understanding, our concept, our image of God. We’ve looked at the effects of technology and artificial intelligence and the effects of education on our picture of God. Donald led us through a brilliant discussion on imagery and music. Last week, David introduced us to nature as a way of seeing God as well. 

David has an interest in technology and the future. Not everybody agrees with David’s viewpoint. But certainly, the changes that have occurred in technology and artificial intelligence even just within the last six months are striking and, I think, bear upon the truth of what David has said. Many of us don’t like it. Many of us don’t even agree with it. But it is what it is, and I think knowing what we need to know about God, and how God relates to the changing culture that we find ourselves in, is something which is needed by organized religion. In that sense, I really appreciate David’s insights.

David: I do worry that I might sound like a broken record to you all, harping on as I do about AI. But I do think it’s important, particularly for the future of our individual relationships with God as well as for the future of the institutional church and organized religion as a whole.

The preamble I gave last week about God in Nature was based upon questions of historical record such as “What sounds in Nature have been attributed to a divine entity?” Such questions are relatively simple for GPT—which is at heart a computer search algorithm—to answer. But my preamble today is based on questions of a different order—philosophical questions that require human-level depth of perception. As I recount my conversation with GPT-4, I encourage you to think about that.

But assessing the perceptivity of GPT-4 is not the main object here. The main object is the philosophy itself. I started by putting the following question to GPT:

Human beings tend to sense a divine presence in nature’s grander sights, sounds, textures, and smells. Nature is reality, but virtual reality technology is fast becoming able not only to emulate nature but even to improve upon it, with (for example) mountains that are more imposing than Everest, or animals more imposing than a tiger. So if nature is a source of spirituality in humans, will virtual nature also be a source?

GPT responded that the relationship between humans and nature, and the spiritual connections that arise from that relationship, is complex and deeply rooted in our psychology, culture, and history. Technology’s ability to emulate or even enhance aspects of nature, it said, does not necessarily mean it can replicate the full experience and spiritual connection humans have with the natural world. It categorized those experiences and connections as sensory, emotional, philosophical and cultural, and possibly spiritual, with the added dimension of ethical environmental considerations.

It explained each of these categories as follows:

First, Sensory Experience: Virtual reality, it pointed out, can replicate some of the sights, sounds, textures, and smells of nature, but is still limited by the technology and the individual’s own perception of reality. The authenticity and “wholeness” of the natural experience might not be fully captured.

With regards to Emotional Connection: Nature, it said, often invokes a profound emotional response. This could be related to our evolutionary connection to nature, the awe and wonder we feel when confronted with its grandeur, or personal and cultural associations. Virtual reality might trigger similar feelings, but it might also feel artificial or hollow to some.

The Third category was Philosophical and Cultural Interpretations: Different cultures and philosophies interpret the connection with nature in various ways, it said. Some might see nature as a manifestation of the divine, while others might perceive it as a system to be understood and controlled. Virtual representations of nature could lack the depth and context needed to foster these connections.

The Fourth category was the Possibility for Spiritual Connection: It is conceivable, says GPT, that for some individuals, virtual nature might indeed become a source of spirituality. As technology advances and becomes more immersive, the line between the virtual and real could blur. This might allow for new forms of spiritual experience and expression that are unique to the virtual realm.

The last categorical element GPT identified was Environmental Considerations. It said there may also be ethical considerations related to the use of virtual reality as a replacement for nature. Emphasizing virtual over real nature could lead to a disconnection from our physical environment and the urgent issues surrounding its preservation.

GPT concluded that while virtual nature could emulate aspects of the real thing and might even provide spiritual experiences for some, it was unlikely to fully replace the complex, multifaceted relationship humans have with the natural world. The spiritual connections to nature, it said, might depend on intangible aspects that are tied to our biology, history, and cultural interpretations, which are not easily replicated in a virtual environment. It opens a new frontier of exploration and might create its own unique spiritual experiences, but the comparison to real nature will likely remain nuanced and individualized.

I then countered that at the exponentially accelerating pace at which it is developing, it seemed to me likely that virtual reality will emulate, and not merely simulate, reality. In that case, I said, the human would lose any sense of being in a virtual environment. That being so, I told GPT, its arguments that VR would be inauthentic, incomplete, hollow, and shallow would surely be moot?

GPT responded that I was absolutely right in asserting that as virtual reality technology continues to develop and becomes more sophisticated, the differences between virtual environments and actual reality could become less distinguishable. It conceded that if the virtual environment can fully emulate reality to the point that the user is unable to discern between the two, then some of its arguments about inauthenticity, incompleteness, hollowness, and shallowness in VR might indeed become moot. 

It then amended four of the categorical elements affecting spirituality as follows:

• With regard to Sensory Experience, it said that If VR could perfectly replicate not just the sights, sounds, textures, and smells of nature but also the subtle nuances and interactions that contribute to our perception of reality, then the virtual experience might be indistinguishable from the real one and that this would enable a much more authentic engagement with virtual nature.
• With regard to Emotional Connection, it said that with the barriers between real and virtual removed, the emotional connection to virtual nature could be as profound as our connection to real nature. The feelings of awe, wonder, and spiritual connection might become equally attainable in the virtual world.
• With regard to Philosophical and Cultural Interpretations, it said that if virtual nature were perceived as real, then cultural and philosophical interpretations could also apply to virtual environments. This might foster a new understanding of spirituality that encompasses both real and virtual experiences.
• With regard to Environmental Considerations, it said that while the immersive experience of virtual nature might be satisfying on a personal or spiritual level, there could still be concerns about the environmental impact of prioritizing virtual experiences over engagement with the physical world. This wouldn’t negate the authenticity of the virtual experience but might raise ethical considerations.

However, GPT said, there were some intangibles to consider. Even if virtual reality could fully emulate reality, there might still be a philosophical difference between the two that affects how people perceive and value them. Knowing that a virtual environment is created by humans might change how some individuals connect to it on a spiritual level, even if they can’t discern it from reality in the moment. The underlying knowledge of artificial creation could still influence perceptions and spiritual connections.

Furthermore, the process of creating and engaging with perfect virtual emulations of nature might raise new questions and challenges related to ethics, identity, and the nature of reality itself. How we navigate these questions, it said, would likely influence the spiritual significance of virtual nature in complex ways.

It concluded by agreeing with me that the development of VR technology to a point where it can fully emulate reality could change the nature of the relationship between humans and virtual environments, which in turn could lead to virtual nature becoming a significant source of spirituality for many. However, it cautioned, it might also open up new and unanticipated complexities that would shape that relationship in unique ways.

I therefore asked it to elaborate on those unanticipated complexities and whether it could help us to anticipate them.

“Certainly!” it said, with uncanny enthusiasm. While it was difficult to predict the future with certainty, “we” (it said) could certainly explore some of the possible complexities that could arise as virtual reality technology develops to the point where it can fully emulate reality. These complexities had to do with ethics, identity and self-perception, social dynamics, and environmental, economic, existential, legal, and privacy concerns, It elaborated on each of these as follows: 

• First, Ethical Considerations: If virtual reality becomes indistinguishable from real life, questions about ethics, consent, and responsibility will likely arise. How do we treat virtual beings if they can evoke genuine emotions in us? What are the ethical implications of creating virtual environments that replicate or even surpass real-world experiences, especially if they start to replace real-world interactions and engagements?
• Second, Identity and Self-Perception: The boundary between self and avatar might blur in a fully immersive virtual world. This could lead to complex questions about personal identity and self-perception. How do we define ourselves if we can be anyone or anything in a virtual environment? How might this affect mental health, self-esteem, or even legal identity?
• Third, Social Implications: Virtual worlds that perfectly emulate reality could lead to new social dynamics. Virtual spaces might foster new forms of community, culture, or even spirituality that are distinct from those in the real world. But they could also exacerbate divisions and inequalities, especially if access to virtual realities becomes a status symbol or if people retreat from real-world social engagements.
• Fourth, Environmental Impact: The growing emphasis on virtual experiences might lead to a disconnection from the physical environment. While virtual nature might provide spiritual fulfillment, a lack of engagement with real nature could have consequences for environmental awareness and stewardship.
• Fifth, Economic Implications: The creation and maintenance of highly sophisticated virtual worlds might reshape economies. New industries could emerge, but there might also be economic disparities related to access and control of virtual environments. This could further widen the gap between those who can afford to participate in these virtual worlds and those who cannot.
• Sixth, Philosophical and Existential Questions: The ability to create and inhabit virtual worlds that are indistinguishable from reality might prompt profound philosophical and existential questions. What is reality if we can create a virtual version of it that feels just as real? How does this impact our understanding of consciousness, existence, and spirituality?
• Seventh, Legal Challenges: New legal frameworks might be needed to address issues like ownership, rights, and responsibilities within virtual worlds. This could include questions related to intellectual property, virtual real estate, virtual crimes, and more.
• Eighth, Security and Privacy Concerns: Ensuring the security and privacy of individuals within these highly immersive virtual environments could present new challenges. The potential for hacking, identity theft, or other malicious activities might increase as the virtual worlds become more complex and integrated into daily life.

It summarized all of the above by saying that the unanticipated complexities of a future where virtual reality could fully emulate reality would likely span a broad range of domains, from ethics and philosophy to economics and law. Each of these areas may bring its unique challenges and opportunities, shaping how we understand and engage with both virtual and real worlds. The ability to anticipate these complexities might enable more thoughtful development and integration of virtual reality technology, fostering a future where the virtual and real coexist in harmony.

I said: “What about the spiritual implications?”

It replied that the spiritual implications of a virtual reality that could fully emulate reality were “particularly profound and complex” and proceeded to present a deeper look into some of the possible spiritual considerations. It listed 10 of them:

1. New Forms of Spiritual Experience: Virtual reality could provide new platforms for spiritual exploration and expression. Individuals might engage in virtual pilgrimages, meditations, or ceremonies, creating unique spiritual experiences tailored to their beliefs and needs.
2. Interfaith Engagement: Virtual environments might facilitate more accessible and open dialogue between different faith traditions. People from different religious backgrounds could engage with one another’s rituals, symbols, and beliefs in an immersive and non-threatening environment.
3. Redefining Sacred Spaces: Traditional sacred spaces like churches, temples, or natural sites might be recreated or reimagined in virtual environments. This could democratize access to these spaces but also challenge traditional understandings of what makes a place sacred.
4. Spiritual Authenticity: Questions may arise about the authenticity of virtual spiritual experiences. If a virtual mountain is more imposing than Everest, does it inspire genuine awe or merely artificial stimulation? How do virtual religious rituals compare to physical ones? The boundary between genuine spiritual connection and simulated experience might become blurred.
5. Theology and Cosmology: The ability to create and inhabit virtual worlds might impact theological and cosmological beliefs. If humans can create worlds that feel as real as the one we inhabit, what does that mean for beliefs about creation, divinity, and the nature of existence? Different faith traditions might interpret this in various ways.
6. Ethics of Virtual Creation: If virtual beings or worlds are endowed with characteristics that evoke genuine empathy or reverence, what responsibilities do we have toward them? Some might see them as mere code, while others might assign spiritual significance to them.
7. Disconnection from Natural Spirituality: If virtual nature becomes a primary source of spiritual fulfillment, it could lead to a disconnection from the physical natural world, which has been a source of spiritual inspiration for many traditions. The loss of this connection could have both spiritual and ecological implications.
8. Impact on Community and Ritual: The way people engage in community worship and ritual might change in virtual environments. While it may allow for wider inclusion, it could also alter the communal experience of spirituality in ways that are challenging to predict.
9. Existential and Philosophical Questions: The blending of virtual and real might prompt deeper existential questions about the nature of consciousness, soul, and existence. How do virtual experiences impact our understanding of these profound aspects of human life?
10. Potential for Spiritual Manipulation: The power of virtual reality to influence perception and emotion might also be used for manipulation. Ethical considerations about the use of virtual reality in spiritual contexts could become vital.

GPT concluded that the spiritual implications of virtual reality’s ability to fully emulate reality are multifaceted, far-reaching, and could reshape how spirituality is experienced, understood, and practiced, opening new frontiers of exploration but also challenging existing beliefs and norms. Engaging thoughtfully with these possibilities, it said, might require collaboration across disciplines, including theology, philosophy, ethics, and technology, to navigate the complex spiritual landscape that such a future could create. These changes would likely prompt dialogue, reflection, and adaptation within various spiritual traditions.

It then presented a few additional points to consider. It seemed to me exceptionally interesting that it was capable of framing some of the issues as questions. It thinks like we do! 

1. Its first point concerned Spiritual Education: As virtual reality becomes a platform for spiritual experience, it said, new forms of spiritual education and mentorship might be necessary. How do religious leaders, spiritual mentors, or educators guide individuals in a virtual spiritual world? What principles and practices might need to evolve?
2. Accessibility and Equality: Virtual reality could make spiritual experiences and education more accessible to those who might otherwise be excluded due to physical disabilities, geographical location, or social status. However, issues of inequality might also arise if access to virtual reality becomes a privilege available only to certain segments of the population.
3. Potential for New Spiritual Movements: The advent of a virtual world that is indistinguishable from reality might give rise to new spiritual movements or reinterpretations of existing traditions. Virtual reality could become a medium for spiritual innovation and creativity, fostering novel ways of understanding and connecting with the divine or the sacred.
4. Human Agency and Control: The ability to create and manipulate virtual worlds that emulate reality might lead to new philosophical inquiries about human agency and control in the universe. What does it mean to have the power to create worlds? How does this influence our understanding of ourselves in relation to higher powers or cosmic forces?
5. Integration of Virtual and Physical Spirituality: Finally, how would societies and spiritual communities integrate virtual and physical experiences? Finding a balance that honors both virtual spiritual exploration and traditional physical practices might be an essential task for religious communities and spiritual seekers.

GPT’s concluding summary of entire discussion was that “the spiritual implications of a fully emulative virtual reality are profound and multifaceted, offering opportunities for growth, inclusivity, and exploration, but also presenting challenges related to authenticity, ethics, and the relationship between the virtual and the real. The way in which different cultures and spiritual traditions navigate these opportunities and challenges would likely shape the spiritual landscape of the future in unexpected and complex ways.”

I could not have agreed with it more. What about you?

C-J: I feel overwhelmed, as if I’ve ingested an entire swimming pool of information. Had I not conducted similar research I would never have been able to keep up!

To summarize, we often view new technologies as innovative, potentially dangerous, and unique. This has been the case throughout history with various media—books, radio, television, movies, computers. The challenge is discerning what is real and what engages our imagination, whether in advertising, belief systems, or interpersonal relationships. It’s all about influence, access, and the privilege of being in the inner circle. In this dynamic, there’s nothing truly new; only the tools change.

I agree that mental health will be a significant challenge. We saw a glimpse of this with COVID, as children struggled to adapt to remote learning. I personally would find remote learning difficult, as I need hands-on interaction, the opportunity to ask questions and engage with others and their opinions.

On a different note, I recall watching Star Trek episodes that explored many of the “what ifs” David discussed, examining how new frontiers could change cultures. It’s about observation, influence, and shaping things according to our beliefs.

Don: It seems to me that we already have a precedent for contrasting the virtual world with the real world. From our perspective, one might say that God exists in a virtual realm, represented by our beliefs about heaven and its streets paved with gold. On the other hand, we have nature, often referred to as God’s “second book,” which is part of our tangible, real world. In a sense, then, we already inhabit a dichotomous existence, balancing virtual reality with what we consider to be real. So the concept itself isn’t necessarily new, but the ways we apply it and the platforms we use to discuss and understand God are continually evolving.

Donald: I find myself reflecting on questions we’ve asked in this class, such as “What does it mean to be human?” I’m considering what transpired during COVID and how it affected our minds. Before COVID, we couldn’t have imagined its impact. Even three years later, as we try to move on, there are residual effects on our psyche.

It seems to me that technology could have a similar effect. We don’t know what it will do to our heads, but we must move forward. Technology evolves, and it’s challenging to separate reality from fiction. For example, watching a show like “The Good Doctor” makes me ponder the reality of decision-making in a hospital environment and the technology used there. Different perspectives exist on what should be done and how, including what technology should be employed.

It’s scary to think about, but technological evolution is inevitable. We’ve gone from books to cutting the cord on cable because there’s a new way to do things. It’s a matter of the haves and have-nots, and the process seems crucial. I was listening to a technology show about a back-to-school app that teaches algebra. It doesn’t just provide answers but shows the process, which is what teachers grade. The upcoming technology might give us all the answers, but learning the process is essential to being human.

One intriguing question that arises from this morning’s presentation is: What makes a space sacred? We define some spaces as sacred, and more people are choosing different ways to honor sacred places.

Sharon: As I gaze at the stunning African sky, I find myself pondering the potential impact on our communities if all safaris were to become virtual. There’s the obvious advantage that more people could access safaris who otherwise couldn’t, but what about the broader implications if only virtual safaris were available?

What would we lose if people couldn’t ride in those rugged vehicles, inhale the unique scents of the lions, or engage with the intricate cultural and natural relationships that are so intertwined? Crafting such an experience through virtual reality may be a possibility in the future, but it seems incredibly challenging in the short term.

I’m trying to envision what this might look like. For a child in downtown Detroit, experiencing a virtual safari would undoubtedly be an extraordinary opportunity. But what would the consequences be if the option for physical safaris were taken away, and we were left with only virtual ones? The thought raises complex questions about the balance between accessibility and authenticity.

C-J: Donald’s remark about the importance of “process” resonates with me, especially in the context of mental health and creativity. The process allows us to take something familiar and reimagine it. Without it, we’re left with binary choices, lacking nuance and context.

Imagine being a student in Michigan, stepping into a hologram to experience a safari. Without the process of physically being there, I would lack context and connection to reality. I wouldn’t be able to smell the environment, feel the ground beneath my feet, or hear the conversations of indigenous people in languages I don’t understand. While I could watch a TV program like Nova to gain some insight, it wouldn’t be the same.

Without the physical experience, I wouldn’t be able to apply what I learned to my world except through imagination. If we view everything we experience as a process and a tool to help us adapt to different environments and times, then removing that process complicates matters. It hinders our ability to adapt, and I think that’s a significant concern.

Donald: I’ve had the incredible blessing of going on safari multiple times, and I wholeheartedly agree that you couldn’t replicate the experience virtually. It just wouldn’t be the same. There is no doubting the reality of the fear you feel when a lion is right in front of you. That’s a vital part of the experience. You might feel fear in a virtual setting, but it’s not the same as knowing the animal could actually bite you. Technology may try to replicate the sensation, but it wouldn’t be authentic.

As well—to echo Sharon’s concerns—once we’ve captured the experience virtually, what’s the need for preserving all that space in Africa? Could we, would we, just use the space for something else? These are significant ethical questions that would arise.

Also, consider our attention span, which has already changed dramatically in the last decade. If I don’t want to deal with a virtual lion, I could just click out of the safari and into a major league baseball game. Our ability to change channels so quickly is a far cry from when we were kids and only had three or four channels to choose from. Now, with the vast menu of options, we can still only watch one thing at a time but the choices are nearly endless.

I’m not doubting the potential of virtual experiences; I’m just awed by the possibilities and the questions they raise. Are we merely trying to play God?

C-J: Humanity grapples with trauma such as COVID in ways we don’t yet fully understand. Wars, famines, diseases, and natural disasters have transformed communities, whose initial reaction often revolves around spiritual questions. People wonder, “How could God do this to us?” or “What did we do wrong?” From that starting point, more practical concerns emerge, like the need for food, clothing, and shelter, and questions about who remains strong, who is sick, and where the most vulnerable, like the children, are.

We must also grapple with the consequences of technological advancements, such as when Oppenheimer exploded the bomb in the desert. Questions arise like, “Will this make us sick?” “Will it make us whole?” “Will it isolate us?” Today’s discussion prompts us to consider scenarios and ask, “What if?” What would it mean for us not just to survive but to perpetuate a species that is whole in mind, body, and soul? What does wholeness even mean to us today?

These are profound questions that challenge us to think deeply about our values, our technology, and our place in the world.

Don: This connects with Sharon’s question about how we perceive God through genetics or through suffering. But this also brings up a broader question: Who serves as the ultimate judge of what is real? Can we reach a point where the lines between virtual reality and actual reality become so blurred that we can’t distinguish one from the other? These questions challenge our understanding of reality itself and prompt us to consider the potential complexities and ambiguities that may arise as technology continues to advance. It’s a thought-provoking inquiry that opens up a wide range of philosophical and practical considerations.

C-J: That phenomenon is something we see with individuals who experience mental illness. They can traverse the line between different realities as easily as you and I might walk down the street. Living in multiple worlds, they often find themselves caught between them. It’s astonishing to me how they manage to function at all, whether with or without medication. This observation highlights the complexity of the human mind and the delicate balance that exists between our perception of reality and our mental well-being.

Donald: Electricity is a fundamental aspect to consider, as it’s the lifeblood of our modern conversations and technologies. Just the other day, we sat in the dark for three hours because a tree fell somewhere, cutting off our power. This entire discussion would come to a halt if we didn’t have battery-powered energy. It brings us down to something quite basic: our phones, for example, are essentially paperweights without a battery, having no value whatsoever.

So, the question becomes, who will control the content, and who will control the energy needed to power up society? These are vital considerations as we navigate our increasingly interconnected and technology-dependent world. The control of energy and information is not just a practical concern but a matter of ethics, governance, and societal structure. 

Reinhard: Who decides about all these affairs? As a believer, I think we have God’s guidance. The Holy Spirit will tell us. In June this year an AI “pastor” gave a sermon to 300 people in a church in a German city. Some attendees liked the sermon and some didn’t, perhaps because it was delivered in a monotone robotic voice. But the content of the sermon still served to draw people to God. Some commented that this is the future, and we cannot avoid AI taking over some human affairs.

I remember when Jesus entered Jerusalem (Luke 19:24, 39-40) some Pharisees told him to rebuke his disciples, and he replied, ‘If they keep quiet, the stones will cry out.’ Now, what’s the difference in modern times if AI starts talking about God, as long as it’s in line with the Bible? In modern communities, many people like to be alone or don’t want to associate with others. Maybe AI is a great benefit to such people.

I look at the positive benefits of AI. If it makes people start talking about God and the Bible, what’s wrong with that? AI is here for good; we cannot deny that. We must move forward and not dwell on the past. We have to appreciate the physical reality that God gave us, but what comes next is undeniable. This is here to stay for good.

So again, as believers we know in our hearts that God will guide us. As long as it’s going to increase our faith and enhance our outlook, AI offers good ways to deal with society and to strengthen our beliefs, especially our connection to God Almighty. The future is here to stay.

Janelin: As I sit here in my garden on a fine Saturday morning, I’m struck by the difference between seeing a picture and truly experiencing one’s surroundings. I’m sitting here. I can show you pictures of my garden, but experiencing the smells and sights of nature is unique. 

David: People who put on virtual reality headsets and participate in violent role-playing games are essentially hunting down other human beings. They are on a macabre virtual safari. So, in some ways, we are already in that brave new world. The visceral aspects of a safari, like the vehicle jolting on the track or the fear of being in front of a lion, may be missing today, but the exponential acceleration in technologies promises a perfect virtual safari in which you do feel the vehicle shaking, and you do feel real fear of the virtual lion roaring at you because it looks so real. We’re not talking 200 years down the road; we’re literally talking about the next few decades. This is coming, and that’s why these discussions are so important.

Part of the future I envision is a world where many forms of suffering will have disappeared. Medicine is increasingly capable of overcoming ailments like cancer, for example. But what if virtual reality introduces new forms of suffering? How we see God through suffering will probably remain a constant question for all time, regardless of whether the context is virtual or real.

Don: Next week, Sharon will share her views on the perceptions of God through suffering. 

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Don: Does God require signs of our contrition, such as remorse or confession, before He will give us His grace? In 1937, when the Nazi party had reached the peak of its power, the German Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote The Cost of Discipleship, a book which perhaps more than any other work has influenced Protestant thinking on the subject of grace. It is considered a modern classic. Bonhoeffer coined the terms “cheap grace” and “costly grace,” which he defined as follows:

Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without church discipline, Communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate.

Costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price to buy which the merchant will sell all his goods. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him.

Costly grace is the gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.

Such grace is costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it cost God the life of his Son: “ye were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us. Above all, it is grace because God did not reckon his Son too dear a price to pay for our life, but delivered him up for us. Costly grace is the Incarnation of God.”

― Dietrich Bonhoeffer, The Cost of Discipleship

The idea that we must do something to receive grace, that there are expectations to be be fulfilled in order to enjoy God’s grace, is not new.

Free grace without condition, expectation, or limits seems neither possible nor reasonable nor right. It seems to undermine justice. Even during the ministry of Jesus, the tension between justice and grace is clearly visible in many of the parables. Jesus seemed to devote more time to it than anything else, so it is clearly an important but difficult concept to grasp—hence the time we are devoting to it!

The early church fathers also spent considerable time developing elaborate theology on the subject of grace, and especially the relationship between grace and contrition. It is at the heart of the findings of a Pew survey (noted in class a few weeks ago) that 83 percent of Catholics and 52 percent of Protestants believe that we are saved not by grace alone but by grace and works. At a minimum, one of those works needs to be contrition.

One definition of grace is “God’s love as seen from Wo/Man’s vantage point.” In other words, it is what we see and experience of God’s love. If so, could not we substitute the word “grace” for “love” as expressed by Paul in this passage:

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have grace, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have grace, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have grace, it profits me nothing.

Grace is patient, grace is kind and is not jealous; grace does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Grace never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away. When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, grace, abide these three; but the greatest of these is grace. (adapted from 1Corinthians 13)

Does this change our perspective on grace, particularly with regard to our obligations to receive grace? If grace is free, what does it cost? If God’s love is unconditional and grace is the aspect of God’s love that we see, should grace be unconditional as well?

The parable of the Prodigal Son, for one, might be enlightening. The English word “prodigal” can mean extravagant, wasteful, and profligate; but it can also mean generous, lavish, and liberal. Its literal meaning is “bounteous.” In its latter meaning, the parable might as well have been called the parable of the Prodigal Father, whose lavishness was evident from the very beginning of the story. He gave the younger son his inheritance long before it was due (which would have been after the father’s death) and, if he were a prudent father, he would have known that a son with the personality of this one was likely to waste the inheritance, and would have refused to give it, or at least would have set some strict conditions as to its use. At a minimum, a prudent father would have divided the inheritance in accordance with the conventions of seniority, so that the eldest son would have received double the portion of the younger son, not the equal portion apparently given to the Prodigal:

“If a man has two wives, the one loved and the other unloved, and both the loved and the unloved have borne him sons, if the firstborn son belongs to the unloved, then it shall be in the day he wills what he has to his sons, he cannot make the son of the loved the firstborn before the son of the unloved, who is the firstborn. But he shall acknowledge the firstborn, the son of the unloved, by giving him a double portion of all that he has, for he is the beginning of his strength; to him belongs the right of the firstborn.
“If any man has a stubborn and rebellious son who will not obey his father or his mother, and when they chastise him, he will not even listen to them, then his father and mother shall seize him, and bring him out to the elders of his city at the gateway of his hometown. They shall say to the elders of his city, ‘This son of ours is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey us, he is a glutton and a drunkard.’ Then all the men of his city shall stone him to death; so you shall remove the evil from your midst, and all Israel will hear of it and fear. (Deuteronomy 21:15-21)

The Prodigal deserved to be stoned, yet he received more than he should have. It shows the lavishness of the father’s grace.

The famine the Prodigal encountered in the far place he journeyed to was not just physical but also spiritual in nature. He spent both his economic inheritance and the spiritual inheritance he took from his father’s house. In desperation, he determined to return to that house and seek forgiveness by relinquishing his rights as his father’s son.

But he misjudged the scope of his father’s ability to forgive (as also, it appears, did his older brother and the family servants.) His grace was lavish, extensive, profligate, excessive, offensive, inappropriate… and seemingly disregardful of justice. Most people in their right mind would share the elder son’s consternation. But grace is not about the cause-and-effect that is the crux and crutch of right-mindedness. Rather, grace is about being out of one’s mind, about being overcome with wild exuberance at the recovery of something most dear, that was lost.

Is the grace of the Prodigal’s father then “cheap” grace as defined by Bonhoeffer? We don’t know the aftermath of the celebration of the son’s return. We might wonder: Did the lesson stick? Did the Prodigal shun further iniquity and become an honorable citizen and dutiful son? But we have to remember that grace is not about the recipient: It is about God. We want to deserve grace but God’s grace is undeserved by definition.

Donna: I see grace as a peace-making tool that God gives us to pass on. Without it, there would be less peace around us.

Donald: Like all Christian churches, ours attempts to give evidence to reflect what grace is in relationship to our faith and Christ. How much grace is in our church? How far does it extend until someone is disfellowshipped? How does the concept of disfellowshipping square with boundless grace? Why can a church not accept and tolerate the many  methods by which different people sincerely approach their faith journeys? Why do we rather look for distinctions, finding this to be appropriate but not that? In this  class we may challenge ourselves with such questions, but how likely are other members of the church to do so?

Dave: The Prodigal Son showed contrition, though we don’t know how heartfelt it was. He said to his father: “I have sinned in your sight, and am no longer worthy to be called your son.” The grace is there; the question is whether contrition—which can be seen as a willingness to accept grace—is needed to receive it. Many people who are desperate do not seek it. Some people have to hit rock-bottom before they will accept the grace that is available to them, from a practical standpoint.

Robin: Do we cheapen grace when we accept it without contrition, when we take it for granted? Grace is not cheap to God, but sometimes it is to us.

Donald: We talk of grace both in relation to our own needs and in terms of a requirement to pass on grace to others. Are they related? If we don’t pass it on, what does that say about our relationship with Christ? I may think I am living in harmony with Christ, but can that be true if I am not living in harmony with other people?

Donna: Grace is free, but not cheap.

David: There is nothing cheaper than free. But I continue to think we have not defined grace sufficiently well. I repeat my view that grace is what you get when you are at the end your tether to life itself; when there is absolutely no hope of any future you might dream of. I think the Prodigal parable was intended to portray this finality as a key aspect of grace, and that is why there is no aftermath to the story. I think we are to assume an aftermath of eternal—not temporal—reconciliation with God. Otherwise we could imagine all sorts of aftermaths, from the sublime to the tragic, and what then would be the point of the parable? The spiritual lift we may experience when we are down—as we must presume the Good Samaritan’s beneficiary to have felt—is qualitatively different from—it is less than—grace, it seems to me. In that sense, grace is not cheap: You can do nothing in life to deserve it, except to get to the end of life, and even then you don’t deserve it—you simply receive it! In the sense that it costs you your life, it is not cheap grace, to our mortal way of thinking.

Donna: You give grace over and over. It’s a spiritual death. We go through cycles. When we are not walking with the Lord we are spiritually dying, so we confess and God forgives us—over and over again. If the Prodigal Son were to fall away again, the father’s grace would be given again. As often as necessary.

Jay: I compare grace to the parent-child relationship. A parent gives grace to a child even when the child may be bad. I agree with the notion of two types of grace: One that is like gravity, or air—vital, and (almost) always there for us, a natural force over which we have no control; and one that results from a call or cue or desire that compels us to operationalize it—to pass it on. Contrition is a necessary precondition for “operationalized” grace. Contrition is what the Prodigal Son experienced and would have enabled him to pass it on.

Dave: The fact that Jesus so often addressed the topic of grace reflects how hard it is for us to understand and accept it. The main barrier to our understanding and acceptance is our own will. We seem to need a serious addiction or trauma or other event to take us to the rock-bottom of life before we grasp the grace that is available to us. I don’t think it has to be a life-ending event, though it might be our last chance.

Donna: Someone said to me “You must like abuse” after they observed me repeatedly giving grace to a person who repeatedly wronged me. But I felt myself growing through the experience: The more I gave, the more I grew.

Donald: The problem with trying to understand grace by relating it to something else is that it is not like anything else! How do we know we are at the end of our tether? When we are being wheeled into the emergency room on a gurney? What if the physician says: “You again? This is the fifth time you’ve been here in the last month!” Or: “Do you have insurance?” We sometimes don’t know when we are at the end of our tether.

David: If you are being admitted to the hospital rather than to the hospice, then you are not at the end of your tether. You have hope. Things might look bad but at least there’s a doctor trying to patch you up. Two criminals were crucified alongside Jesus. Spiritually, Jesus patched up the one who expressed contrition by giving him hope—certainty, in fact—of a place in heaven. What about the other criminal?

Donald: In life, we can be given false hope by doctors and others. Sometimes we cling to hope even if the doctor says there is none. I think our difficulty in understanding grace stems from its incomparable nature.

Chris: The parable of the Unforgiving Servant features a master who forgave a servant a massive debt the servant had no hope of repaying. There was no penalty and no interest—it was free grace. But after receiving it, that same servant denied grace to another servant who owed him a much smaller sum of money. We are not to be mere recipients of grace; we are to be conduits through which grace can flow from above.

Donna: The true beneficiary of grace is the one who extends it unconditionally; not the one who receives it. The one who extends grace is more Godly than the one who receives it.

Dave: We can be conduits for grace, but its source is God.

Mikiko: We have a father who loves us and provides for us. Like the Prodigal Son, we must return to Him so that we can enjoy His eternal grace—His mercy, kindness, forgiveness, patience, and compassion.

David: Which brings us back to the definition of grace. It seems to me that to substitute “grace” for “love” in the passage from Corinthians (above) cheapens grace in the sense that it becomes something any of us can understand and bestow, whereas I believe grace is strictly a divine concept and prerogative. I would define grace as the opening of the door to the kingdom of heaven. We are capable of love, and God knows love is important enough. But it is not the same as grace, in my opinion.

Donna: Grace is love extended to God. It is inward.

Dave: I think grace and love are distinct but that God is the source of both and we are the carriers, the vessels, the conduits for both, if we choose to be. The love we give our children is the same as the love God extends to us.

David: If my definition is correct, who here feels they have the right and the power to admit others into the kingdom of heaven? That is what “passing on” God’s grace would mean (if I am right).

Jay: I would not agree with that definition. To me, love and grace are  practically synonymous and mutually dependent—there cannot be one without the other.

Donna: Can one extend grace to a person without loving him or her?

Jay: I don’t believe so.

David: There must be a reason why we have two words, love and grace. There must be some distinction.

Donald: We go to the emergency room or to the doctor because we don’t want to die. We are not asking for love—we are asking for life. Whether we deserve to live is an issue not on the operating table. If I am a serial thief and ask for forgiveness every time I steal, and then don’t forgive someone who robs me, I have closed the conduit of grace.

Jay: Love and grace mean the same but apply to different realms: emotional and spiritual, respectively.

Robin: Can a person who is hateful extend grace?

Don: Suppose I have patients whom I have advised, over and over, to quit drinking and smoking, lose weight, control their blood pressure, check their blood sugars, eat properly, and so on. They simply refuse, and keep drinking and eating to profligate excess. Should I continue to see them, to treat them, to counsel them, to give them medications I know they won’t take? Is there a limit to my obligation? Is there a limit to God’s responsibility for us?

(Unknown; partly garbled): I have had such patients and made grouchy comments to them.

Dave: Back to the question of contrition: I think we do need to be contrite to be saved, to be born again. Otherwise we have not grasped the grace.

David: …which is the message of the contrite criminal crucified alongside Jesus. He was saved; the other was not. But the saving was not of his mortal life, and he was born again but not into mortal life.

Robin: Grace is sometimes likened to “money in the bank”—there to be drawn upon whenever we need it. But we can’t withdraw it without admitting that we need it, otherwise why bother to withdraw it? I think that amounts to contrition.

Donald: Compliance is the key. We tend to give up on the non-compliant, at some point—on those who don’t comply with the law, our advice, and so on. The parables show us that God does not.

Don: It seems as if from God’s perspective, contrition is not a big deal. The Prodigal’s father brushed aside his son’s contrition. But it was important from the perspective of the Prodigal son.

What should the end product of grace be? What do we expect of God, and what do we expect of ourselves? How can grace be administered if people don’t want it, and have the free will to reject it? We will discuss these questions next week.

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Don: If there were no grace, judgment would seem relatively simple: The good would go to heaven, and the bad would go to hell. But it then begs the question: How good, how bad? In fact, with grace, judgment is easier because there is no need to measure how good or bad. As taught by Jesus, grace is the judgment. We are judged by what we do with the grace we are given: Do we accept the gift? If so, do we share it with others?

We have decided through our study of the topic that:

1. Grace is extended to all living things, and
2. To be effective, it must be operationalized. We must take action to pass it on, if and when we can.

Most living things lack the capacity to pass on grace, to do the “works” that James calls for in the Bible. That includes not just most animals but also some humans who are so depleted that they just can’t do it. As well, we have a tendency to want to measure our own and other people’s works, which puts us back in the judgment business.

But grace is not intended to be measured. The Israelites measured the manna (metaphor for grace) given to the them by God in the wilderness during the exodus from Egypt only to find that it made no difference—whether they took a lot or a little, they ended up with just enough for their individual needs:

This is what the Lord has commanded, ‘Gather of it every man as much as he should eat; you shall take an omer apiece according to the number of persons each of you has in his tent.’” The sons of Israel did so, and some gathered much and some little. When they measured it with an omer, he who had gathered much had no excess, and he who had gathered little had no lack; every man gathered as much as he should eat. (Exodus 16:17-18)

The principle that grace cannot be quantified is also demonstrated through the story of Good Samaritan. After taking the injured robbery victim to an inn, the Samaritan…

… took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I return I will repay you.’ (Luke 10:35)

We tend to see ourselves as Good Samaritans, and wonder about how much to give, when in fact we are more often like the injured man, in need of grace ourselves. We must face the fact that sometimes we need grace and sometimes we don’t have much of it to give. But when we do have much to give, much is expected of us, as was shown in the Parable of the Talents.

In the Parable of the Sower and the Seed, the seed can be taken to mean grace and the Parable shows us what to expect from it:

Behold, the sower went out to sow; and as he sowed, some seeds fell beside the road, and the birds came and ate them up. Others fell on the rocky places, where they did not have much soil; and immediately they sprang up, because they had no depth of soil. But when the sun had risen, they were scorched; and because they had no root, they withered away. Others fell among the thorns, and the thorns came up and choked them out. And others fell on the good soil and yielded a crop, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty. He who has ears, let him hear. (Matthew 13:3-9)

Seed is “the word of the kingdom”:

When anyone hears the word of the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what has been sown in his heart. This is the one on whom seed was sown beside the road. The one on whom seed was sown on the rocky places, this is the man who hears the word and immediately receives it with joy; yet he has no firm root in himself, but is only temporary, and when affliction or persecution arises because of the word, immediately he falls away. And the one on whom seed was sown among the thorns, this is the man who hears the word, and the worry of the world and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, and it becomes unfruitful. And the one on whom seed was sown on the good soil, this is the man who hears the word and understands it; who indeed bears fruit and brings forth, some a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty.” (Matthew 13:19-23)

Jesus Himself is the personification of grace. His very mission was to dispense grace:

 Jesus was going throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every kind of disease and every kind of sickness among the people. (Matthew 4:23)

You know of Jesus of Nazareth, how God anointed Him with the Holy Spirit and with power, and how He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with Him. (Acts 10:38)

As the personification of grace, he is the Word. Jesus is the Word.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.  … And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth. John testified about Him and cried out, saying, “This was He of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me has a higher rank than I, for He existed before me.’” For of His fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace. For the Law was given through Moses; grace and truth were realized through Jesus Christ. No one has seen God at any time; the only begotten God who is in the bosom of the Father, He has explained Him. (John 1:1, 14-18)

Seed, Word, and grace are similar in meaning and mystery:

And He was saying, “The kingdom of God is like a man who casts seed upon the soil; and he goes to bed at night and gets up by day, and the seed sprouts and grows—how, he himself does not know. The soil produces crops by itself; first the blade, then the head, then the mature grain in the head. But when the crop permits, he immediately puts in the sickle, because the harvest has come.” (Mark 4:26-29)

The essential concept is that there is variable return on the disposition of grace. Its fruitfulness, its actionable portion, are highly variable and therefore somewhat unpredictable. Even seed sown on good soil returns a variable crop yield, where we would expect a predicable uniformity in the yield.

So grace cannot be quantified nor can its product be predicted. The expectation of grace is equally variable. All we can say for sure is that grace is everywhere, no matter the readiness and ability of people to receive and process it. Its profligate dispenser throws caution to the wind. We also know that grace is transformational:

“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater;  So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it. For you will go out with joy And be led forth with peace; The mountains and the hills will break forth into shouts of joy before you, And all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Instead of the thorn bush the cypress will come up, And instead of the nettle the myrtle will come up, And it will be a memorial to the Lord, For an everlasting sign which will not be cut off.” (Isaiah 55:10-13)

(The “everlasting sign” links grace to the Rainbow Covenant we discussed last week.)

Donald: Maybe we want to be “good soil”… or maybe we don’t, because we don’t want the responsibility of doing something with the seeds (grace) we receive. The healthcare system is one way in which we hand off the responsibly to someone else (doctors), whose performance we then feel entitled to judge. Perhaps the same applies to a church—we hand off to the church the responsibility for good spiritual outcomes: “You claim to be religious, you profess your creed. If you have poor outcomes, we’ll judge you accordingly.” And we measure it. As a professional in a faith-based educational system, I know that some people have expectations of me and my colleagues and judge us accordingly. But a state school professes no religious creed and is not therefore judged in the same way.

David: Civilized modern society distributes grace to people in need through taxes to support healthcare and education and welfare and so on. Europe follows this communal model; the US follows it reluctantly and miserly and is constantly trying to set the clock back to the days of rugged individualism. Islam is somewhere in-between:

As one of the Five Pillars of Islam, zakat [alms-giving] is a religious obligation for all Muslims who meet the necessary criteria of wealth. It is a mandatory charitable contribution, the right of the poor to find relief from the rich, and is considered to be a tax, or obligatory alms. (Wikipedia)

Some claim that those who support a tax-based welfare system are shirking, handing off, their individual personal responsibility for alms-giving, for passing on grace. Yet the socialist method of distributing grace is more efficient and produces better outcomes than the libertarian method—contrast poverty, healthcare access, infant mortality, etc., between EU countries and the US. This is unavoidably political, but it does boil down to the passing on of grace—to being kind, having mercy, and so on. How many of us are really Good Samaritans? Do we readily stop our own journey in life to personally get involved in the welfare of others? In some countries and cultures and political platforms there are more such rugged individual Good Samaritans than in others, but these countries/cultures/parties also tend to have more people in need, as international comparative statistics show. Free markets and unregulated governments simply have no business with unproductive people who can’t afford to consume.

Don: Do you see the community dispensation of grace as being the superior model? Or do you see it as being essential, based on the brokenness of the model that Jesus seems to put forward?

David: Without doubt, from the perspective of the poor, the sick, and all in need of grace, the community dispensation of grace is the superior model. But from the perspective of the giver of grace, it might be argued that there is something to be said for accepting personal responsibility for helping the poor and the sick personally, directly. But be careful: Jesus told us clearly not to make a big deal of our alms-giving:

“So when you give to the poor, do not sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, so that they may be honored by men. Truly I say to you, they have their reward in full. But when you give to the poor, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving will be in secret; and your Father who sees what is done in secret will reward you.” (Matthew 6:2-4)

In light of this teaching, I have to believe that Jesus would support a social welfare system without question. The kingdom of heaven on Earth is a place where everyone just does the right thing, without thinking about it.

Kiran: People in Norway have a high tax rate, partly to support old-age homes for the population. But some Norwegian SDA members tell me that Norwegians are so busy working to pay the taxes that they have no time to visit their parents in the old-age homes, so the church arranges visits to the homes. Perhaps grace is more relational than transactional?

Donald: An elder care facility with caring caregivers is wonderful, but they are not all like that. The qualifications demanded to be a caregiver in such institutions are no higher than Taco Bell demands of its workers. Compassion is not one of the job qualifications. People work at an elder-care home or Taco Bell simply because they need some income.

Josh: Grace is separate from economic and political systems. It’s about people. In any system, socialist or otherwise, if the right people see a need for grace, they will give it, no matter what. It is an individual matter more than a systems matter. Some people are more selfish and less likely to give grace than others. I don’t think it’s tied to a system.

Jay: It’s easier to quantify grace if we can break it down by task, if we have a checklist: “Feed the hungry: Check. Visit the sick: Check. Visit inmates in gaol: Check. Visit parents abandoned in elder-care facilities by their children: Check. Take care of a broken Jew on the road to Jerusalem;…” But the manna and seed metaphors tell us it is futile to try to measure and quantify grace. When we make a checklist of grace, we remove or ignore the relationship component of grace—the relationships between us and our fellow human, and between us and God.

Robin: How do we know if we are showing too much grace? Is it even possible to do so? Where is the line between grace and enabling?

Donald: If all is good, there is no need for grace. But at some point, all of us are going to need it. People don’t want to go to the church, or the hospital, unless they have to.

Josh: It’s easy—it makes us comfortable—to substitute money for grace. I think there has to be some discomfort involved in the giving of grace. I knew a woman who was always needy and asking for things, and I tended to respond. She made me uncomfortable with the thought that perhaps I was giving her too much.

Donald: After giving money, we tend to feel that we have discharged our duty.

David: We keep using the words “we” and “my”. What do I—what do we—matter, compared to the person needing our grace? To me, discomfort should not enter into it. We need to get away from looking at the issue from the perspective of me and my needs and comfort/discomfort, and look at it from the perspective of the needs of the person hurt or hungry or in prison. It’s not about my piety. It’s about his or her pain.

Jay: There may be times when “tough love” is called for, but in Scripture I don’t see anyone admonished for being too kind, gracious, loving, or forgiving (except God, who was admonished for it by Jonah!) No doubt there are people who take advantage of the graciousness of others. It is actually quite prevalent, which leads us to the practice of “tough love.” But the Sower of the Seed did no such thing. He did not care what his seed yielded, if anything, yet he was insistent on sowing it anyway.

David: And it did not stop God from providing as much manna as was needed during the exodus. Some of the Israelites squandered, hoarded, wasted it. They made it toxic and unusable. But that did not stop God. God is profligate.

Don: “Careless” is a word that springs to mind. To us, God seems almost irresponsible in his sowing of the seed and his distribution of the manna.

David: If we want to be like Jesus, then we have to act likewise! But it’s hard.

Robin: The Bible counsels:

Go to the ant, O sluggard, Observe her ways and be wise, Which, having no chief, Officer or ruler, Prepares her food in the summer And gathers her provision in the harvest. (Proverbs 6:6-8)

To do work is honorable; to be lazy is not. I heard a story about an elderly spinster who lived on social security, yet wrote to her parish magazine wondering if she was giving enough. No doubt God would have seen that her heart was in the right place, but should she give so much that she would end up in need herself?

Kiran: God provides the talents, but if I don’t have the toolbox, God won’t hold me responsible for what I do with them. A lot of times, people don’t need money; they may simply be scared and confused and just need comforting and companionship.

Michael: How do we feel when we pass on grace? Since we are giving away grace that we ourselves were given, I don’t see why there should be any discomfort involved in giving it. Questions of how much to give, etc., don’t matter, it seems to me. Our giving of grace to others is preceded by God’s giving grace to us. My question is: can we hoard the grace we receive, in order to pass on at some future time? Can we re-start the cycle of grace any time we like?

Robin: When we reach the point where the grace needed exceeds our own supply, perhaps it’s our responsibility then to help the person in need find another supplier—an individual, or an organization such as the church.

Donald: Our most valuable resource is time, not money.

Chris: We talk about our giving grace, but as Michael implied, we do not give it—we are simply a conduit, a wire, through which God’s grace passes to others. We each might be wires of a different gauge, able to transmit only up to the carrying capacity of our gauge. But our gauge doesn’t matter: All that matters is that some grace gets through. We are only part of the whole operation of grace. We don’t need to worry about how much grace we are dispensing—we don’t need to quantify it.

Donald: Are members of the church wire of a bigger gauge than others? We seem to think we are. Is it a cop-out to think our gauge is small, so we don’t need to do much?

Jay: This is a quantity question, and God doesn’t care at all about the quantity we pass on, whether it be a ton or a gram. It seems to me liberating, in terms of judgment and salvation, to think that God does not distinguish between a ton and a gram.

Don: But doesn’t your liberation come at the cost of someone else’s de-liberation? Have you done enough to help him or her? Could you, should you have done more? Did you give to your limit? These are quantity questions we can’t seem to stop ourselves from asking in our fallen human condition.

David: We can’t let it go because we are consumed with the issue of judgment. A line in an historical movie about Chief Sitting Bull had him telling a white woman: “The white man measures people’s worth by how much they own. We measure people’s worth by how much they give away.” To measure worth is to judge.

* * *

Don: In recent weeks, we seem to have arrived at a conclusion that grace is actionable—that it needs to be passed on, that we have to do something with it if we have the right tools in our toolbox at the needed time and place.

Yet the amazing thing about grace is that it operates even when it is non-actionable, when our toolbox is empty. The thief on the cross, the woman caught in adultery, the woman with the issue of blood, the blind man by the road… all received lavish grace without the expectation that they would pass it on. But if we have the capacity to pass it on, then we are expected to do so—this was the message in the Parable of the Talents.

The first mention of grace in Scripture is in the story of Noah and the Flood (Genesis 6-9). God had judged Mankind to have gone so completely off the rails that He was prepared to cleanse the evil with a Flood. Water is the agent of cleansing sin:

Yes, You will cast all their sins
Into the depths of the sea. (Micah 7:19)

Jonah was cleansed by being thrown into the depths of the sea. Baptism in water is also a symbol of cleansing. The Flood is the ultimate act of cleansing.

In the story of Noah we see the juxtaposition of grace and judgment:

And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually.

And it repented the Lord that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him at his heart.

And the Lord said, I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth; both man, and beast, and the creeping thing, and the fowls of the air; for it repenteth me that I have made them.

But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord. (Genesis 6:5-8, KJV—the NASB substitutes “favor” for “grace”.)

The grace that God bestows on Noah is actionable grace. The escape from judgment is laid out in detail in the form of a detailed blueprint and bill of materials for the Ark:

Make for yourself an ark of gopher wood; you shall make the ark with rooms, and shall cover it inside and out with pitch. This is how you shall make it: the length of the ark three hundred cubits, its breadth fifty cubits, and its height thirty cubits. You shall make a window for the ark, and finish it to a cubit from the top; and set the door of the ark in the side of it; you shall make it with lower, second, and third decks. (Genesis 6:14-16)

In Jonah’s case, the saving vessel came along in the form of a great fish. The implication is that God’s judgment is tempered with God’s grace. The Ark took 120 years to build. In 2 Peter, Noah is mentioned as the preacher of righteousness. It seems that during this lengthy period, along with the building of the Ark, Noah preached to Mankind the need to take advantage of God’s grace. The invitation to join Noah in the Ark was implicit. God’s extension of grace is to all Mankind—indeed, it is to all living things.

There has long been discussion of what happens to animals, especially pets, after they die. Some people have told me they would rather not go to heaven if their pet cannot be there also. Churches generally, and the Catholic Church in particular, teach that animals will not go to heaven because (they declare) they have no souls and are not moral creatures, therefore they do not have the free will to choose between right and wrong or to choose to be in heaven. But if judgment is based on grace—as, clearly, it was in the case of Noah—then animals are also to be saved.

Note also that God allowed 120 years to arouse the interest of Mankind in God’s grace. But like those who turned down the king’s initial invitation to the wedding feast, there were no takers except Noah, because:

Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his time; Noah walked with God. (Genesis 6:9)

But it would be wrong to conclude that Noah’s righteousness entitled him to God’s grace. Like all of us, he was not at all free from sin, and was therefore in need of grace. The fact that no living thing availed itself of God’s grace in a 120-year grace period (so to speak) only highlighted their need for it. And even after being saved from the Flood, Noah continued to sin:

He drank of the wine and became drunk, and uncovered himself inside his tent. (Genesis 9:20)

In the end, God memorialized His grace in the rainbow covenant, in which He vowed never to destroy life again. The rainbow is refracted light. It is God’s signature. It is the symbol that God came into the world (John 3:19). It is the rainbow seen above the throne of the lamb of God in the Book of Revelation. It is the symbol of God’s grace.

The following passage also makes it as plain as can be that animals—“every living creature,” “all flesh”—are included in that covenant of grace:

It shall come about, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow will be seen in the cloud, and I will remember My covenant, which is between Me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and never again shall the water become a flood to destroy all flesh. When the bow is in the cloud, then I will look upon it, to remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” And God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant which I have established between Me and all flesh that is on the earth.” (Genesis 9:14-17)

What we do with grace in the judgment depends on your standing, on who you are, on what you are able to do. We see a spectrum in recipients of God’s grace. At one end are animals, with no free moral choice (or have they?) On the other end are the  sophisticated beings who make the right choice to pass on grace they have accepted (in the parable, those who were given and invested the talents they were given). At points in-between along the spectrum are those who have varying ability to pass on the grace, such as the servant given one talent but failed to invest it.

David: YouTube has many videos of “Good Samaritan” animals—a crow that adopted an orphan kitten, and many more. If such are not demonstrations of love and compassion for a fellow creature, I don’t know what can be. So either animals are given grace by God, as we are, or they have the God-like ability to dispense grace de novo.

Robin: I had a dog that could tell when I fell ill with a severe sinus headache. He would put his head in my lap and would not leave me. God is love. Animals can pass on the love God put in their hearts. Except cats. 😉

Don: There are no cats in heaven? 😉

Auntie: There are lions!

Don: Seriously, though, while animals were not my intended focus for class today, it struck me in preparing for it that what Scripture says about them and what the church typically says about them are somewhat at variance, to put it mildly. What harm, what damage, what disservice has been done to people who won’t trust a God they are told excludes animals from His kingdom!

David: It shows how critically important is the interpretation of Scripture. It is not difficult to interpret Scripture in such a way as to suit any bias—q.e.d. not just bias against animals but against billions of people excluded by the Abrahamic religions from God’s kingdom. (If only Scripture were re-written to conform with my biases, then the world would be OK! 😉 )

Donald: Some people just don’t like animals. What do those of us who do like them see in them? To me, one of the things that makes them attractive is their non-judgmental nature, even when we hurt them.

But back to grace: Noah’s story took up an unusually large number of chapters in the Bible. If our stories were written in it, how many chapters would we be given, and what would our story reveal? What lessons might it teach? It’s hard to read the lessons of a chapter while we are in the middle of writing it. For instance, suppose you have a dearly beloved elderly relative for whom you are giving all the care that you can, but whose growing dementia causes her to complain that “all that you can” is not good enough? Is she right? Whatever you do results in emotional and physical stress. At what point does your responsibility for passing on grace end? How can we skip to the end of a chapter that isn’t finished to find out what we are supposed to do, when we can’t seem to do enough for someone we love—someone who is not clear-minded?

Don: You are asking the important existential question: How does grace work in real life?

Robin: With loved ones who have dementia we have to convince ourselves that they don’t mean any mean things they say to us. They would not say such things if they were in their normal state. But it still stings to hear them say such things.

Donald: Is that what God thinks of us? That if we were in our right minds we would understand grace, but we are so far gone that He doesn’t expect much of us?

Anonymous: We can never wrap our minds around reality. It doesn’t make sense to me that God would judge us when we are just so ignorant. We have to have faith and we have to accept grace, otherwise we cannot pass!

Mikiko: I love and understand animals and their feelings. I can communicate with them, especially dogs, because dogs are so intelligent. God made them the way they are. They want to talk, but they have to find other ways to let us know their feelings, and they do. Noah and his family had to care for all the animals in the Ark. It was a huge job. They must have loved animals to do that. In caring for the animals, they were passing on God’s grace.

David: Donald’s question of how much “passing on” is enough is intriguing. If the Good Samaritan had been on a really urgent journey when stopped and did something to help the suffering victim, but not as much as he did in the parable, would God’s judgment of him be different? Would it still deserve to be a parable of Jesus? I think it would, because—like those who care for elderly relatives with dementia—they are demonstrating love. Period. I think that’s all God the Father and God the Son expect of us. God the Spirit—our conscience—might urge us to do more, and if we comply, then great; but if we don’t, we surely are not bad if we have shown genuine love. Could we not (do we not) accuse God all the time of not doing enough? Not curing our child of disease? Not taking us out of poverty? Are we God’s conscience? All we really ought to expect of God is that He loves us.

Jay: There is no doubt there is some innateness to grace and love, but it also seems clear that here is an actionable component in play in grace. When we see someone suffering and in need, our heart-strings are tugged. This inner light or conscience or whatever we want to call it is a stirring of grace. The question then is how to respond to that stirring. The Good Samaritan used all the tools in his toolbox; if it had been someone else, s/he might have had different tools in his or her toolbox. The Good Samaritan did not stay at the inn to nurse the victim back to health—was that not in his toolbox? The question is: What is in my toolbox, and do I use it when needed?

We can always doubt whether we have done enough. We may even doubt that we have done too much. Is feeling a tug on the heartstrings enough of a response? Whose job is it to evaluate what is enough? My own? My faith community’s? It’s clear we should pass on God’s grace; what’s unclear is how much effort I should put into it, and who decides how much is enough?

Don: A sufferer may well have a different view of the answer to that question than a grace-giver. In trying to establish an appropriate measure of grace are we not trying to legislate or regulate a free gift intended to liberate us?

Donald: It gets even more complicated when a grace-giver’s relatives weigh in with their own view—their own judgment—of what is appropriate, for the sufferer, for the grace-giver, and for themselves!

Jay: The default for fallen Mankind is to judge both ourselves and others. We can’t seem to shake it. The example you suggest indicates that. In judging, we measure, we quantify. Perhaps we should resist that natural inclination.

Mikiko: The Jehovah’s Witnesses analyze grace as compassion, empathy, loving kindness, mercy, and undeserved kindness.

David: Those seem to me the essential tools in a toolbox of grace. Robin’s dog had all of them! Now, we might imagine another dog trained to fetch a headache pill when it sensed Robin was falling ill again. Its “grace” would seem more practical and beneficial to Robin, therefore superior to the grace of the untrained, practically unhelpful, yet still graceful dog. But is it? Grace is not in a pill; a pill is not a component of grace, not a tool in the toolbox of grace. The true grace of the Good Samaritan was in his expression of love and concern for someone in need, not in bandages and innkeeper’s invoices. We all can offer compassion, empathy, loving kindness, mercy, and undeserved kindness from our toolbox. Whether or not we have $10 or $100 in there as well is irrelevant, it seems to me.

Michael: This sounds to me like “soft” grace. I still think we need “hard” grace. Both can be thought of as actionable, but there was something in the actions of the Good Samaritan that made it better than soft grace.

Robin: Easy versus difficult grace.

Donald: Does a toolbox of soft skills include a calculator? And who’s doing the math?

David: In regulating or legislating grace we are intellectualizing it. Yet surely grace is spiritual.

Anonymous: We want answers. We’re like the lawyer who asked Jesus: “Who is my neighbor?” (Luke 10:29) We’re often not even sure what grace is. Is it spending time with a friend who needs company?

Donald: We establish entities—whole industries, even—to dispense grace: Physicians, care-givers, case-workers, physical therapists, and so on. In so doing, are we handing our toolbox, and the responsibility for its use, over to others? What responsibility did a Samaritan have to open his toolbox to provide grace to a Jew?

Anonymous: Conscience rules. Do what it tells you.

Donald: We learn to suppress our conscience.

* * *

Don: Jesus taught the principle that in judgment, grace triumphs over destruction. That is God’s way. Man’s way is the substitution of his own works, instead of accepting God’s grace; in part because we are suspicious of free gifts and undeserved forgiveness. Is grace really free, unencumbered, and available to all? Jesus said “Yes, but…” to all of the above.

Grace is to the soul as oxygen to the body. There is a bountiful supply and if you need more, it is there for the taking. As Paul said:

The Law came in so that the transgression would increase; but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more,… (Romans 5:20)

The manna (bread) provided to the Israelites in their exodus from Egypt through the desert is a metaphor for this abundant grace. But…

This is what the Lord has commanded, ‘Gather of it [the manna] every man as much as he should eat; you shall take an omer apiece according to the number of persons each of you has in his tent.’” The sons of Israel did so, and some gathered much and some little. When they measured it with an omer, he who had gathered much had no excess, and he who had gathered little had no lack; every man gathered as much as he should eat. Moses said to them, “Let no man leave any of it until morning.” But they did not listen to Moses, and some left part of it until morning, and it bred worms and became foul; and Moses was angry with them. They gathered it morning by morning, every man as much as he should eat; but when the sun grew hot, it would melt. (Exodus 16:16-21)

Manna (grace) is free, is delivered fresh daily, and there is enough for everyone. But to be effective, it must first be internalized and then it must be externalized—made usable, actionable. It cannot be stored, it cannot be hoarded. Even the thief on the cross was able to pass on the grace he was given near the end of his life, in saying to the other criminal who was cursing Jesus for not saving them:

“Do you not even fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed are suffering justly, for we are receiving what we deserve for our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” (Luke 23:39-41)

The theme of actionable grace is central to the parables of Jesus; for example, the Parable of the Talents:

“For it is just like a man about to go on a journey, who called his own slaves and entrusted his possessions to them. To one he gave five talents, to another, two, and to another, one, each according to his own ability; and he went on his journey. Immediately the one who had received the five talents went and traded with them, and gained five more talents. In the same manner the one who had received the two talents gained two more. But he who received the one talent went away, and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money.

“Now after a long time the master of those slaves *came and *settled accounts with them. The one who had received the five talents came up and brought five more talents, saying, ‘Master, you entrusted five talents to me. See, I have gained five more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful slave. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’

 “Also the one who had received the two talents came up and said, ‘Master, you entrusted two talents to me. See, I have gained two more talents.’ His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful slave. You were faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.’

“And the one also who had received the one talent came up and said, ‘Master, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow and gathering where you scattered no seed. And I was afraid, and went away and hid your talent in the ground. See, you have what is yours.’

“But his master answered and said to him, ‘You wicked, lazy slave, you knew that I reap where I did not sow and gather where I scattered no seed. Then you ought to have put my money in the bank, and on my arrival I would have received my money back with interest. Therefore take away the talent from him, and give it to the one who has the ten talents.’

“For to everyone who has, more shall be given, and he will have an abundance; but from the one who does not have, even what he does have shall be taken away. Throw out the worthless slave into the outer darkness; in that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” (Matthew 25:

The talents were given with neither instruction nor condition. The first two servants operationalized the gift (the grace) they received—they turned it into something more. The third servant (who, perhaps significantly, claimed to understand the master well) hoarded the talents/grace and ended up losing everything.

James contrasted faith (which he took to be evidence of grace) with works:

What use is it, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but he has no works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is without clothing and in need of daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and be filled,” and yet you do not give them what is necessary for their body, what use is that? Even so faith, if it has no works, is dead, being by itself.
But someone may well say, “You have faith and I have works; show me your faith without the works, and I will show you my faith by my works.” You believe that God is one. You do well; the demons also believe, and shudder. But are you willing to recognize, you foolish fellow, that faith without works is useless? Was not Abraham our father justified by works when he offered up Isaac his son on the altar? You see that faith was working with his works, and as a result of the works, faith was perfected; and the Scripture was fulfilled which says, “And Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness,” and he was called the friend of God. You see that a man is justified by works and not by faith alone. In the same way, was not Rahab the harlot also justified by works when she received the messengers and sent them out by another way? For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead. (James 2:14-26)

Yet Ephesians seems to say the opposite of James:

For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them. (Ephesians 2:8-10)

To James, Man is the creator of works; to Paul, God is. This is illustrated in the Parable of the Good Samaritan, which was the response Jesus gave to a lawyer who asked Him:

“Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 10:25)

…

Jesus … said, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away leaving him half dead. And by chance a priest was going down on that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. Likewise a Levite also, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion, and came to him and bandaged up his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them; and he put him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn and took care of him. On the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, ‘Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I return I will repay you.’ Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell into the robbers’ hands?” And he [a lawyer to whom Jesus related the parable] said, “The one who showed mercy toward him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do the same.” (Luke 10:30-37)

The road from Jericho to Jerusalem is a metaphor for the road of life, which we all travel. We each may find ourselves playing the roles of the victim, the robber, the priest, the Levite, the innkeeper, and the Samaritan at various points along the way. Bear in mind, though, that to Jesus’s contemporary audience, the priest and the Levite would have been recognized as people lavishly endowed with God’s grace by virtue of this Scripture:

“The Levitical priests, the whole tribe of Levi, shall have no portion or inheritance with Israel; they shall eat the Lord’s offerings by fire and His portion. They shall have no inheritance among their countrymen; the Lord is their inheritance, as He promised them.

“Now this shall be the priests’ due from the people, from those who offer a sacrifice, either an ox or a sheep, of which they shall give to the priest the shoulder and the two cheeks and the stomach. You shall give him the first fruits of your grain, your new wine, and your oil, and the first shearing of your sheep. For the Lord your God has chosen him and his sons from all your tribes, to stand and serve in the name of the Lord forever.

“Now if a Levite comes from any of your towns throughout Israel where he resides, and comes whenever he desires to the place which the Lord chooses, then he shall serve in the name of the Lord his God, like all his fellow Levites who stand there before the Lord. They shall eat equal portions, except what they receive from the sale of their fathers’ estates.” (Deuteronomy 18:1-8)

In return for such lavish grace, they were expected to serve others, therefore to walk past a man in dire straits would have been seen as flagrant hoarding of God’s grace. The Samaritan, in contrast, would have been seen by the Jews of the time as the least-endowed with grace, yet he it was who unstintingly passed on such grace as he had been given.

The free dispensing of grace to others as God has given it to us is the kind of “work” that actualizes grace. We all have been given some level of grace and a toolbox with some assortment of wealth, bandages, emotional supports, oil, wine, and so on, that enables us to share our grace with others. It is important to recognize that not all of us have all the tools all the time in our toolbox—that there may be times when, however much we might want to help, we are just not equipped to pass on the grace. We may come across victims whose needs are beyond our resources, at that moment in time, to meet.

But this is the judgment: That there will be persons at the side of the road who need our help and whom we are able to help. What we do at that moment in time with the tools and grace we have been given is what will be judged.

Robin: It seems that grace is there for everyone. It’s a matter of whether we accept it. Is this the difference between sheep and goats?

Donald: I wonder if the Internet or the radio could be a metaphor for grace? It’s always there, yet in a sense it’s not there until we access it. What we then do with it becomes very important. We keep talking about grace, but it’s only there if we accept it and only beneficial if we do something with it. There would be little point talking about the Internet—or about grace—without accessing and using it.

David: I still feel that there are two kinds of grace: Grace that is available during life—manna to sustain us in our journey of life, and grace available at the end of life—a sort-of drug to ease our transition to the afterlife. We can discard or hoard the first kind of grace, but we can only discard (or not) the second—there is no time left either to pass it on or to hoard it.

The priest and the Levite showed no grace to the robbery victim on their road of life. But how will God judge the priest and the Levite when they reach Jerusalem, the end of the road, the end of life? I don’t have any doubt that God’s ultimate grace will still be available to them, at the Wedding Feast. Scripture seems clear on that point.

I think Jesus and His parables are telling us to try our best, to use the grace and tools we are given to help others during life’s journey. But they (e.g., the Prodigal Son) also tell us that at the end of the day, we are assured of God’s grace anyway—if we want it.

Mikiko: Grace is mercy and kindness. The Samaritan showed both to the injured Jew. Jesus was encouraging us to love our neighbor. But often we fail.

David: Indeed. Most of us are not Good Samaritans. Most of us (at least, to my shame, I) drive past the beggar on the street corner. So is there no hope of good judgment for me? Again, Scripture makes it perfectly clear that there is indeed hope for me and for everyone else (including the dying beggar) of receiving grace at the end of our roads.

But if we don’t distinguish between life-sustaining grace and the life-ending coup de grâce then we introduce needless dissonance into the discussion, it seems to me.

Mikiko: Jesus told the lawyer (Luke 10:37) to “Go and do the same” as the Good Samaritan.

David: Jesus urges us all to do the same, but He also recognizes that we cannot be perfect like Him, that we will sometimes be unmerciful, unloving, unforgiving. Yet He still assures us of God’s grace when we most need it ourselves.

Donald: Did the master in the Talents parable intend ultimate grace for the hoarder? Or was this a final judgment? And have we not decided that grace equals love?

David: Mikiko searched the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ Watchtower magazine archive for the word “grace” and was redirected to a heading “Undeserved Kindness”, with a list of Watchtower articles beneath it. I think that is an apt translation of “grace.” But as for ultimate grace and final judgment, the parables only serve to confuse IF we don’t separate them into parables dealing with life-sustaining grace and life-ending grace. The Wedding Feast is (to me) about grace at the end of life. Everyone, without exception, is invited to it and is allowed in, no questions asked, provided they accept the wedding garment of grace; presumably, that must include the man who hoarded the talents—who hoarded his life-sustaining grace. Unfortunately, and most confusingly, that presumption is dashed when the master condemns the talent hoarder to outer darkness, which seems to be the Scriptural metaphor for the fate awaiting those who refuse to accept life-ending grace. I remain confused.

Robin: There is one person thrown out of the Wedding Feast banquet for not wearing the robe. Is that Satan or just someone who refused grace?

David: As well as him, there were all the worthies and dignitaries who refused the king’s first and second invitations to the Wedding. So although everyone who chooses to accept the invitation (the robe) gets in, they may well be a small minority:

For many are called, but few are chosen. (Matthew 22:14)

I have to believe, on the basis of the Scriptures we have read, that “chosen” means self-selected. Those who accept the robe choose the banquet; those who don’t choose the robe choose outer darkness.

Don: A central core of virtually all the parables of judgment is that everyone is included in the invitation. Nobody is judged who is not first given the opportunity to be included. Exclusion occurs only after judgment and only to those who reject inclusion.

Dr. Singh: In my language the word for “grace” is conditional. We are given 24 hours of life daily. That is why we pray for our daily bread, not for our weekly or monthly or annual bread. Jesus said we are not alone; that he would send the Holy Spirit to guide and protect us. That too is a daily blessing, but we have to sacrifice worldly things for it. Other denominations believe all we have to do is accept Jesus, that we do not have to keep the Sabbath, we don’t have to pray, and so on. To me, grace is conditional upon our sacrifices.

Donald: I agree. Manna was provided daily. It seems that God wants us to do something on an ongoing basis, not just once for all time.

Don: This sounds like the life-sustaining grace David is talking about.

Anonymous: Maybe grace is given at every moment in the day when we fall short, but I can’t accept that this is all there is to it. Maybe I am given grace no matter how many times I fall, but between the fall and accepting the grace, there has to be something—some responsibility on my part. My conscience would surely tell me that I cannot keep falling and expecting grace to bail me out. At the very least I ought to stop wanting to do the things that cause me to fall. It’s in our nature to keep falling, but conscience dictates we also have to sacrifice something in return for the grace we receive when we fall.

It may feel materially comfortable to live a fallen life but it is not spiritually comfortable. I have to give up something on my material side to balance accounts with my spiritual side.

Robin: It is the difference between confession (admitting what you have done wrong) and repentance (wanting and trying not to do it again). Grace is not cheap.

Anonymous: Grace gives us the ability to repent.

Mr Singh: God meets all our material needs, but we have to help meet our own spiritual needs. We ask for God’s guidance and blessing every day, but we have to sacrifice something in return. Other religions worship nature and idols, but God is not there—He is within us, in the form of the Holy Spirit. When we pray, the Holy Spirit blesses us.

Donald: Old folks find it hard to understand the Internet, but many of us have at least some understanding of its uses and potential. We need to access it, use it, and share its potential with other people. Is this a metaphor for grace? Are we concerned about dealing with life or about dealing with the end of life? Or both?

Mikiko: Paul linked conscience with the Holy Spirit:

I am telling the truth in Christ, I am not lying, my conscience testifies with me in the Holy Spirit,… (Romans 9:1)

The Watchtower has this to say on the subject of conscience, which seems relevant to our discussion:

The word is translated from the Greek sy·neiʹde·sis, which is drawn from syn (with) and eiʹde·sis (knowledge) and thus means co-knowledge, or knowledge with oneself. Conscience is a capacity to look at oneself and render judgment about oneself, bear witness to oneself. The apostle Paul expresses the operation of his conscience in this manner: “My conscience bears witness with me in holy spirit.” —Ro 9:1.

Conscience is inherent in man, having been made part of him by God. It is an inward realization or sense of right and wrong that excuses or accuses one. Hence, conscience judges. It also can be trained by the thoughts and acts, convictions and rules that are implanted in a person’s mind by study and experience. Based on these things, it makes a comparison with the course of action being taken or contemplated. Then it sounds a warning when the rules and the course conflict, unless the conscience is “seared,” made unfeeling by continued violations of its warnings. Conscience can be a moral safety device, in that it imparts pleasure and inflicts pain for one’s own good and bad conduct. (Link to the whole article is here.)

Don: Is grace the same as forgiveness?

Anonymous: Forgiveness, acceptance, love,… Everything.

David: Forgiveness is part of grace. I still like the JW rendering of it as “undeserved kindness,” which subsumes forgiveness.

With regard to conscience and the Internet: It strikes me that society is turning to the Internet—to social media, to like-minded peer groups—to decide what to have a conscience about. The professionals who understand the Internet the most (Mr. Zuckerberg and others) seem to be the people using it to do the worst. It reminds me of a line from G.K Chesterton’s Father Brown, a fictional Catholic priest and amateur detective. When a detective told him to leave police work to the professionals, he replied: “Professionals built the Titanic, Inspector. An amateur built the Ark.”

Don: As it happens, next week we will be continuing our discussion of grace in relation to Noah!

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Don: A 2017 Pew poll of American belief found that 52 percent of Protestants believe that both good deeds and faith are needed for salvation. Two core principles of the 500-year-old Reformation seem to be eroding. Protestants, including Martin Luther, thought that salvation was obtained through faith alone—sola fide—and that Scripture alone had the authority to govern faith and practice—sola scriptura.

Only 30 percent of US Protestants believe in both sole fide and sola scriptura. 35 percent believe in one or the other, but not both. 36 percent believe in nether.

Among US Catholics, 81 percent believe that good deeds and faith are necessary for faith and salvation. 75 percent believe that Christians need the Bible and church tradition to know about God.

Teachings that once divided Protestants from Catholics and defined their beliefs no longer do so, at least not so much as before. Although 44 percent of white evangelicals (Baptists and so on) believe in both principles, only 20 percent of white and 19 percent of black mainstream Protestants (Methodists, Lutherans, etc.) do so.

As Jesus implied over and over in His parables, grace is a very tough commodity—it is hard to give it away for free. Why is that? Why are Protestants abandoning key principles underlying their movement?

Grace is presented very clearly in the Parable of the Wedding Feast:

Jesus spoke to them again in parables, saying: “The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come.

“Then he sent some more servants and said, ‘Tell those who have been invited that I have prepared my dinner: My oxen and fattened cattle have been butchered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet.

“But they paid no attention and went off—one to his field, another to his business. The rest seized his servants, mistreated them and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.

“Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding banquet is ready, but those I invited did not deserve to come. So go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.’ So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, the bad as well as the good, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.

“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. He asked, ‘How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?’ The man was speechless.

“Then the king told the attendants, ‘Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’

“For many are invited, but few are chosen.” (Matthew 22:1-14)

The king sent out his invitations three times. It wasn’t an invitation to McDonald’s—it was to a lavish feast of specially prepared food. Yet the first invitation—directed at powerful, privileged, and therefore presumably worthy, people—was dismissed by them out of hand; the second was not just dismissed: It led to murder and mayhem. It was only the third invitation, which was directed at anybody and everybody, which had some success in getting “the bad as well as the good” as well, we can assume, as the powerless and oppressed, to attend.

Why did God’s offer of grace (for that is what the king’s banquet stood for in the parable) elicit such a violent response? Why did Jesus, whose ministry was an offering of grace, end up being crucified? Why was it those who were supposed worthy of grace the very ones who instigated violence against the grace-giver? God judged them for their response to his invitation to grace. In the parable, the judgment merited the death penalty. Essentially, to reject the invitation is to invite destruction—it is self-destructive.

The heavenly banquet is not an option: It is a necessity. In refusing the invitation, one turns to the sword; and he who lives by the sword dies by the sword. The first invitees (who end up being destroyed) are themselves destroyers. They live by the sword. The last invitees are those at the receiving end of the sword: The lost, the lonely, the poor, the dispossessed, and the common, ordinary, everyday people who have no sword to stand between them and grace, not even those who do evil. By the time they reach the banquet hall, the king has effectively smothered their evil under the wedding garment. There is no other preparation for the banquet—for the kingdom of heaven—than to put on the garment.

There is no other action required on the part of the recipient of the grace in this parable. Like the thief on the cross who received grace at the last moment, there is no requirement to pass it on to others (a principle we shall discuss further in a future class). And at the point of grace—at the door to the banquet hall—there is no attempt to discriminate among those dressed (or not) appropriately. God does not discriminate between the good and the evil in those invited to His grace. The concept that the good and evil in us are equivalent in the eyes of God—is a recurrent theme in the parables of grace and judgment. In the Parable of the Seed, the seed produces both good and bad results. In the Parable of the Wheat and the Tares, good seed contaminated by bad seed is taken into God’s barn anyway. In the Parable of the Dragnet (Matthew 13:47-14:12), good fish are intermingled with bad fish. The stories of the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the Pharisee and the Publican,… all show the concept of good and evil coexisting and God working with both.

The losers in this life are the heroes in God’s kingdom. Sinners are welcome where He is because he has made provision with His covering robe of righteousness. Note that even though the robe is free, one man refuses it. The point again is that it is difficult to give away something that is free. 52 percent of Protestants and 81 percent of Catholics won’t take the free gift. All are invited to the wedding supper of the lamb. All are deemed by the king to be worthy of the feast. The difference in judgment is the response to the invitation. No-one is outside the king’s favor. Everyone receives an invitation. No-one is excluded who wasn’t already included in the first place. Everyone is invited to the feast. Everyone is the recipient of grace. Destruction and outer darkness is the lot only of those who refuse the invitation or refuse to put on the robe of righteousness.

Why is grace such a difficult subject to embrace? Why is grace not enough—why must we always seem to want to augment it with something else we feel we need to do? What are the conditions that lead us to accept the free gift of grace or refuse it as an inadequate substitute for our works toward salvation?

Donald: We hold common notions such as “Nothing is for free” and “There is no free lunch.” That alone is enough to cause us to suspect “free” grace.

What are the consequences of not accepting it? Eternal death? If the losers in this life are the winners in the next life, then should we aim to be losers? That doesn’t sound right, somehow!

David: To me, the grace described in this parable is grace at the end of mortal life, at the transition between this world and the next. At that point there is nothing that can be done except to accept or reject the gift—there is no time left for works. This is different from the grace we think of as being delivered to us when we reach a crisis during life.

Jay: We are indeed sceptical of free gifts, and tend not to value them. We assume they must be cheap. It is puzzling that children don’t question the love they receive freely from their parents. We have no problem accepting that a mother’s love, even for a naughty child, is unconditional, and we value it highly. Yet we have a problem accepting that God’s love is unconditional.

Robin: God supplies not only grace but also our good works:

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do (Ephesians 2:8-10).

Donald: We are in a sense creations of our mother, and of course we are creations of God, so why can’t we value their love equally?

Eb: Some children grow up without mothers, or with bad mothers.

Jay: True, but a mother’s love is generally held to be superlative. No matter how heinous the acts of her child, it is difficult to sever its mother’s love, grace, and ability to forgive. If we can accept that (as most of us surely do) then why do we have to add conditions (works) regarding God’s love and grace for His children? Perhaps we should view works as the natural result of accepting free grace rather than as a way to earn grace.

Don: I must admit to being shocked at the finding that a majority of Protestants believes that works are necessary for salvation—not grace alone.

Donald: What is the value of a wedding vow if the groom starts eyeing the bridesmaids as he walks down the aisle? Vows alone are not enough for a good marriage; it takes good behavior, as well.

Jay: As individual human beings and as organized religions, we tend to focus on behavior, on works. But if good works are a natural outcome of grace, perhaps we should focus more on how to accept the invitation to grace than on how to do good works.

David: God gave Jonah good works to do, but Jonah fled from them. It was only when he faced death in the belly of a fish—only when he desperately needed (and selfishly prayed for) grace—that he got it. His works demonstrably did not precede the grace he received. But, after accepting God’s grace, Jonah at least seemed to recognize that he owed God something in return, so he grudgingly rushed through Nineveh, as fast as he could to get it over with, delivering God’s message to the Ninevites. By then, he felt he had evened things up with God and reverted to his contempt for God. His good works were effective on the Ninevites, though apparently not on himself!

Don: There’s a sense in which accepting grace covers one with a robe of righteousness and makes one good. The problem (as we know) is that we tend to lose the robe after a while. There’s a sense in which we feel we may lose something by accepting grace, that it’s not such a great bargain. We need to think about this and understand it better. We seem to need constant injections of grace for it to be effective over any length of time.

Jay: We tend to view our recidivist nature in a negative light, but does a mother love her child any the less when it succumbs to naughtiness again? Does she stop trying to keep it in the family? All the child has to do is say “Sorry, Mom” and everything is OK again. Yet we can’t seem to accept that this must be how God operates also.

Robin: A child naughty by nature needs daily doses of grace.

Donald: A mother can even love a child whose behavior is so bad that it ends up in prison. Behavior is indeed defined by organized religion, to the point that we can sometimes even identify people’s religion by their behavior. So behavior is a central focus of religions.

Michael: There is a sense that in accepting grace we must disarm ourselves. It is easier to accept grace if we are already downtrodden.

Chris: Before accepting grace, our works are all that seem to matter. After accepting grace, our works no longer matter: We simply become the tools of God’s works. A mother is such a tool.

Eb: We need both grace and works, but works that result from one’s love for God.

Donald: We are almost glib in saying both that “we are saved by grace” and that “grace without works is dead.” Yet they seem contradictory.

Jay: If works result from grace, they are not necessarily contradictory. We tend to think of works as being hard, yet many do good works without realizing it. They exhibit true acceptance of grace.

Robin: That correlates with the idea that God prepared good works for us to do.

Jay: Acceptance of grace naturally results in giving it away to others.

Don: Sharing grace is the “works” referred to in the well known passage in James.

Eb: A stranger I approached for directions in Rome unwittingly gave me the wrong directions. After he realized his mistake, he went to great lengths to look for me and eventually found me, apologized, and set me straight. But the point was, his mistake was well-meant—his intention was good, even if his execution of it was bad.

Robin: We struggle with accepting grace through faith because ever since the Fall we have had to work to earn anything at all. We did not have to earn anything in the garden of Eden.

Donald: In that sense, grace is a “foreign” concept suitable for a spiritual world but not for a material world. A mother’s love is something we don’t earn and is the closest we seem able to come to straddling the two worlds.

David: We seem to be defining love as grace. Surely grace has a love component, but also a deliverance component, a salvation component, and a forgiveness component. Love cannot cure a dying child of cancer, but grace makes the cancer irrelevant. As a “foreign” divine spiritual concept, a full understanding of grace (and even of love and forgiveness and so on) is beyond us. How does a mother’s love compare with the love of a Jesus who said: “If anyone comes to Me, and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be My disciple” (Luke 14:26)?

How often could a Prodigal Son go off on multiple jaunts and return broke and genuinely shamefaced before any human father would say “Enough!” The Parable is about a divine level of grace, foreign to us.

Robin: Why would God extend grace if not because of love?

David: The question implies that love and grace are not the same.

Don: It goes to show how difficult it is to apprehend grace. So difficult that it cost Jesus His life.

Donald: What is the role of our conscience in this?

Don: Good question. To be continued…!

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