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Grace is defined as the ultimate level of favor or love given to another person even though the person doesn’t deserve it in any form or fashion. It’s penultimate when self-sacrifice is involved.
The word mercy almost rises to the level of grace, but not quite. The court judge can exercise mercy upon a guilty criminal. The judge’s mercy has nothing to do with his love or good favor. He’s simply chosen to give mercy even though punishment is deserved. No self-sacrifice by the judge is involved.
Grace occurs because selfless love triggers it. For example, the judge decides to pronounce justice rather than mercy upon a man. But someone rises and volunteers to take the guilty man’s place because he selflessly loves the man.
All believers are well-schooled on the greatest act of grace in the history of mankind. Romans 6:23 starts this way: “For the wages of sin is death…” Since we’re all sinners, we are destined to die. That’s justice. Then we read further: “…but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
With His death, Jesus pays the ‘wages’ on our behalf. Because of our sinfulness, we owe death our lives. Yet, Jesus pays the debt, and we gain eternal life with Him. It’s truly the greatest act of grace in the history of mankind.
It’s entirely possible for a person to equal this act. We’re all familiar with heroes who have sacrificed their lives so someone else could live. But for those of us who live in nice homes and watch TV at night from our recliners, we rarely, if ever, have the opportunity to give our lives so someone else can live.
Ephesians 5:25 illustrates this perfectly: “Husbands, love your wives just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her…” I’m a husband, and I’ve never literally obeyed that command. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to write this column.
So more meaning must exist beyond taking the verse literally. The answer is found in living in ‘grace.’ A powerful fictional example is found in Les Miserables. Jean Val Jean steals a sack of silver items from a priest who has befriended him. Val Jean is captured by a constable and brought back to the priest.
It’s expected the priest will take the silver, and the constable will take Val Jean to prison. That’s justice. But the priest insists he gave the silver to Val Jean. Furthermore, he hands Val Jean more silver and says, “But in your haste, you left behind the best, the candlesticks.” The priest had transformed to such a degree of selfless love, he considered the life of Val Jean more important than owning silver. That’s grace.
We have the same opportunities as spouses, friends, neighbors, and strangers—summing up to anybody, anywhere. The key to the strength of our motivation is the depth of our devotion to our treasures. How does that degree of devotion measure up to our devotion to love others selflessly as Jesus did?
Paul provides the proper perspective towards the end of Philippians: “Not that I speak from want; for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.” (Philippians 4:11-12) Earlier in Philippians, Paul writes “For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.” (Philippians 1:21)
Living in full contentedness through Christ creates the full capacity to let go of anything of value in order to lavish generous grace upon someone, even if that person doesn’t deserve it. That’s exactly what Jesus did. It’s also what the fictional priest in Les Miserable did for Val Jean.
We never know who will cross our path and in what manner. But contentedness in Christ creates a massive freedom that empowers us to let go of anything in our possession if it will benefit someone else. Amazing joy can be found through the generosity of our grace shown to others.