Full of Grace and Truth

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 1:14

This week I was insensitive to a good friend.  My friend was wounded by my careless words.  I was very afraid that my insensitivity might have cost us our friendship.  When I read the text message this person sent to me, I was devastated.  "I'll admit," this person wrote to me, "your statement did hurt."

My first reaction was repentance.  I apologized profusely (probably over-abundantly), and begged their forgiveness.  Thankfully, this person did show grace to me.  I am forgiven, thank God.  Our friendship remains solid.

Why was I so quick to seek forgiveness?  Because I like this person, and I value our friendship.  There is a connection there, based on history and trust and mutual respect. 

If, on the other hand, I had offended someone I did not know, or did not know well, or did not particularly care about, would I have been so quick to apologize?  Probably not.  You can't break a connection that isn't there.

Yesterday I heard a sermon by Chris Hodges, pastor of Church of the Highlands based in Birmingham, Alabama, with satellite campuses all over the state.  His passion, he said, is evangelism.  He, like the Apostle Paul, aims to "become all things to all people so that by all possible means" some might be saved. (cf 1 Corinthians 9:22).  In this message, Pastor Hodges said something profound:  he said when we are taking the message of Christ to the masses, we must balance grace and truth.

You see, both are important; but grace must come first.  "Truth without grace," he said, "is just mean."  How many of us know people who speak truth without love.  "Your sins will lead you straight to hell," they proclaim loudly.  They may be right, but they are not necessarily helpful.  Very often, truth hurts.  Truth wounds.

When I learned that my friend had been hurt by the insensitive comment I had made, my heart ached.  Knowing the truth about a potential wedge between us caused me pain.  Would I have been better off not knowing the truth?  Of course not!  The truth was that my sin had potentially broken fellowship with my friend, and unless they made me aware of it, I could not have done anything about it.  The wound could have festered, the schism could have widened to the point that nothing could have bridged the gap.

In the same way, we are called to speak truth to a dying world.  We just don't need to be mean about it.  We need to speak it in love, with a measure of grace.

On the other extreme, we all know people who seem to spread a message of "all grace, all the time."  Yet, as Pastor Hodges said in his sermon yesterday, "Grace without truth is meaningless."  If what we do doesn't matter to God, then there is no need for repentance.  This is cheap grace, and it is a false gospel.

I read a blog online this past week about the need for forgiveness.  The writer said that all to often, when we offend someone and then apologize to them, the response is usually, "It's okay.  It doesn't matter."  This is a lie from the pit of hell!  It's not okay to be offensive.  It does matter.  That's why repentance is necessary, but forgiveness is just as necessary.  It is important to speak the words, "I forgive you."  How much more powerful to hear that I'm forgiven rather than it's okay.

Pastor Hodges summed it up this way:  when we approach someone with the Gospel (which is what we are commissioned to do as Christians), we must balance our approach.  What we say may be right, but it may not be helpful.  On the flip side, "the truth will set you free", but we must connect before we correct.  God didn't call us to be right; He called us to be effective.  The goal is not to prove your point and send people on their way to hell.  The goal is to win them to God.

The disciple John described himself often as "the disciple whom Jesus loved."  He is known in some Christian traditions as St. John the Evangelist.  We see a story in John's gospel that we do not see in the other gospel accounts.  In the 8th chapter we are told of a woman who was caught in the act of adultery.  The Pharisees had apparently set a trap for her, intending to trap Jesus by placing Him firmly in one extreme or the other (wrath or grace).

They burst into Jesus' presence, with this half-naked woman in tow, stating one truth after another.  Yes, the woman had been caught in adultery.  Truth.  Yes, the law of Moses did state that she should be publicly executed as a consequence of her actions.  Truth.  What, they demanded, did Jesus have to say on this?  Was the Law of no consequence, and did grace extend to one who habitually and flagrantly disobeyed?  Or was Jesus just like them, condemning others to hell while they smugly sat in the seat of self-righteousness, hiding their own sins from view?

Jesus does not answer right away.  He begins doodling in the dust.  In so doing, He does not stand over her, but brings Himself down to her level.  He squats down in front of this woman lying prostrate before Him.  The Pharisees wait.  Then, miraculously, each of the accusers drops his stone, and slinks away silently. 

Jesus addresses the woman.  She knows she is guilty.  He knows she knows.  His first words express grace.  "Woman, where are those who condemn you?  Neither do I condemn you."  But what we often lose in the telling of this story is the expression of truth that Jesus gives in follow up.  "Go," He said, "and sin no more."

Grace and truth in equal amounts, but grace comes first.  Grace does not negate truth, but there must be a connection before there is correction.  Otherwise the truth is lost, and the person remains condemned.  Thank God for what the Apostle Paul wrote in Romans 8: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."