This last weekend my wife and I were browsing through the internet looking for a video of good hymns to listen to on Sunday morning. The one we landed on was recorded at a church that had the word Grace in its name. I forget exactly what it was, but that’s not important. The point is that I’ve come to learn that in most cases, the use of the word Grace in a church’s name is code language for “Calvinist.” There are lots of exceptions to that, but generally speaking, when you see a "Grace Fellowship" or something along those lines, it’s the church’s subtle way of identifying with Reformed Theology, also known as Calvinism. The reason they use that term is because they refer to the TULIP doctrines as “the doctrines of grace,” and in fact, their definition of the term grace is the “U” in the TULIP doctrines: Unmerited Favor.
That, in fact, is basically what everyone is told the word grace means, whether they’re attending a Calvinist church or not. When I was young, I attended a church that taught Arminian doctrine, and yet I grew up being told that grace was “unmerited favor,” and I mean that’s what I was told verbatim. Even Catholics affirm the definition of grace as being “unmerited favor,” although they, more correctly, see it as a starting point rather than the whole.
All this, along with some recent interactions with people on TOL, got me to wondering: What is the Greek word for “grace,” and what does it actually mean? More than that, what concept does the word grace actually name in Scripture? The Reformed definition, it turns out, while not entirely wrong, is lacking in all the most important ways.
I want to start by looking at the non-religious use of the word grace. When someone is said to be graceful, we mean that there is a certain elegance to their action, that their manner has a beauty to it that people intuitively detect and appreciate. It’s not even necessarily about what they’re doing, but about how they’re doing it. Some people are so graceful that the way they tie their shoes is enjoyable to watch.
The same idea can be applied to the way people speak, and just generally the way they conduct themselves in their relations with others, the things they say, and the way they say them, and even their timing in when they say and do the things they say and do. They’re just all-around gracious people.
You might think that this use of the word has nothing to do with the religious use of the term. And if you’re a Calvinist, you’re right, it doesn’t. The scriptural use, however, is quite another story.
The Greek word translated as grace is 'charis'. And while it’s often summarized as “unmerited favor,” that definition is not only lacking, it misses the point in all the most important ways. The word 'charis' names something far richer. It refers to favor, yes, but favor that is given in a certain way, with warmth, generosity, and beauty. It is favor that delights in being shown. It’s not just that something good is done; it’s that it’s done in a way that is admirable. It is the Greek word from which we get the English word charisma.
We actually preserve that meaning in our everyday speech more than we do in our theology. When someone says something gracious, we don’t just mean they gave someone a break. We mean they spoke with proper tone, with excellent timing, with thoughtful care. They carried themselves well. Their kindness had weight and shape. That’s the concept that 'charis' names, and that’s what the biblical writers meant.
When John says that Jesus was “full of grace and truth,” he’s not just saying that Jesus came with the offer of unearned favor. He’s saying that everything about Him, His presence, His words, His posture, His manner, was charismatic. People listened to Him not just because He spoke the truth, but because He spoke it like it belonged to Him, because He wore it well. He wasn’t just right, He was radiant. That’s ‘charis’ – that’s grace!
And when we look at the gospel itself, it’s not just that God made a way for people to be saved. It’s that He did it in a way that is artful. The whole thing is saturated with brilliant intention. Nothing is forced, and nothing is wasteful. Every part of it fits together. The demands of justice are fully satisfied, and thus the offer of mercy is freely extended. The righteousness of God is revealed, not by dodging wrath, but by absorbing it in a way that defeats evil without compromising justice. The whole thing is just staggeringly well done.
He didn’t just do it. He didn’t just make salvation possible. He didn’t just defeat His enemies at Calvary, He crushed them into powder and He did it with a kind of artistic flair that puts every human masterpiece to shame. If it were a painting, it would make Michelangelo look like a child with crayons stuck up his nose.
That’s the part Calvinism misses. It wants to talk about “the doctrines of grace” as if grace were a system. It’s not! Grace is what happens when moral goodness is expressed in a way that is relationally thoughtful and aesthetically beautiful. Grace is not just undeserved benefit, it is undeserved benefit given beautifully. It is generosity in motion, full of proportion, restraint, timing, and intelligence.
Grace describes everything about God, not just in what He does, but in when, why, and how He does it.
That, in fact, is basically what everyone is told the word grace means, whether they’re attending a Calvinist church or not. When I was young, I attended a church that taught Arminian doctrine, and yet I grew up being told that grace was “unmerited favor,” and I mean that’s what I was told verbatim. Even Catholics affirm the definition of grace as being “unmerited favor,” although they, more correctly, see it as a starting point rather than the whole.
All this, along with some recent interactions with people on TOL, got me to wondering: What is the Greek word for “grace,” and what does it actually mean? More than that, what concept does the word grace actually name in Scripture? The Reformed definition, it turns out, while not entirely wrong, is lacking in all the most important ways.
I want to start by looking at the non-religious use of the word grace. When someone is said to be graceful, we mean that there is a certain elegance to their action, that their manner has a beauty to it that people intuitively detect and appreciate. It’s not even necessarily about what they’re doing, but about how they’re doing it. Some people are so graceful that the way they tie their shoes is enjoyable to watch.
The same idea can be applied to the way people speak, and just generally the way they conduct themselves in their relations with others, the things they say, and the way they say them, and even their timing in when they say and do the things they say and do. They’re just all-around gracious people.
You might think that this use of the word has nothing to do with the religious use of the term. And if you’re a Calvinist, you’re right, it doesn’t. The scriptural use, however, is quite another story.
The Greek word translated as grace is 'charis'. And while it’s often summarized as “unmerited favor,” that definition is not only lacking, it misses the point in all the most important ways. The word 'charis' names something far richer. It refers to favor, yes, but favor that is given in a certain way, with warmth, generosity, and beauty. It is favor that delights in being shown. It’s not just that something good is done; it’s that it’s done in a way that is admirable. It is the Greek word from which we get the English word charisma.
We actually preserve that meaning in our everyday speech more than we do in our theology. When someone says something gracious, we don’t just mean they gave someone a break. We mean they spoke with proper tone, with excellent timing, with thoughtful care. They carried themselves well. Their kindness had weight and shape. That’s the concept that 'charis' names, and that’s what the biblical writers meant.
When John says that Jesus was “full of grace and truth,” he’s not just saying that Jesus came with the offer of unearned favor. He’s saying that everything about Him, His presence, His words, His posture, His manner, was charismatic. People listened to Him not just because He spoke the truth, but because He spoke it like it belonged to Him, because He wore it well. He wasn’t just right, He was radiant. That’s ‘charis’ – that’s grace!
And when we look at the gospel itself, it’s not just that God made a way for people to be saved. It’s that He did it in a way that is artful. The whole thing is saturated with brilliant intention. Nothing is forced, and nothing is wasteful. Every part of it fits together. The demands of justice are fully satisfied, and thus the offer of mercy is freely extended. The righteousness of God is revealed, not by dodging wrath, but by absorbing it in a way that defeats evil without compromising justice. The whole thing is just staggeringly well done.
He didn’t just do it. He didn’t just make salvation possible. He didn’t just defeat His enemies at Calvary, He crushed them into powder and He did it with a kind of artistic flair that puts every human masterpiece to shame. If it were a painting, it would make Michelangelo look like a child with crayons stuck up his nose.
That’s the part Calvinism misses. It wants to talk about “the doctrines of grace” as if grace were a system. It’s not! Grace is what happens when moral goodness is expressed in a way that is relationally thoughtful and aesthetically beautiful. Grace is not just undeserved benefit, it is undeserved benefit given beautifully. It is generosity in motion, full of proportion, restraint, timing, and intelligence.
Grace describes everything about God, not just in what He does, but in when, why, and how He does it.