Philip Yancey's 'Fall from Grace.' Can Grace Still Stand?
Is Grace enough?
Philip Yancey’s iconic book, What’s So Amazing About Grace? , was one of the most the most profound, eye-opening books on grace, Jesus, and the Gospel, that I had ever read (and still holds that position even though it’s now a bit dated).
Grace doesn’t come easily for me. But Yancey’s insights, his stories, and his heart, got into my soul and re-calibrated my understanding of the scandalous, bold, reckless grace of God.
Over the last several decades he has written a variety of books that have gently guided readers into seeing a loving, caring Creator rather than a mean-spirited, out-to-get-us deity.
His confession, a few weeks ago, of an eight-year affair rocked the Christian world.
He’s not the first Christian leader to betray his wife and his God through cheating on his marriage. We’ve seen the story played out far too many times, and each time, these leaders not only bring unspeakable trauma to their spouses and families, but to those who have been moved and impacted by their ministries. The betrayal—and hypocrisy—runs deep.
It will come as no surprise that my Facebook algorithm is attuned to Christian content. Nor will it surprise you that my Facebook feed was filled with Christians chiming in on Yancey’s sin (and is there a better word for it?).
I’m not interested in commenting on Yancey nor the pain he’s unleashed, especially on his wife. What is there to say about someone who cheats like that? (I will offer this exception: To his credit, if any credit is due at all, he removed himself from ministry and publicly admitted to what he had done. The normal MO among Christian leaders is to deny, deny again, and then admit—kind of—while defiantly moving on to a new ministry as if nothing had happened.)
What has surprised me—or maybe not—is the gross misunderstanding of the grace that Yancey proclaimed by the many commentators on his fall from grace.
The overarching message: when we preach too much grace, this is what happens.
Take, for example, author and podcaster Eric Mataxas
Not to pile on, seriously, but to make a theological point I feel VERY important. When Philip Yancey writes: "My conduct defied everything that I believe about marriage..." I think it's important to say that in fact he did NOT believe what he claims about marriage. Isn't that the real point here? Evangelicals focus so much on "faith" and "belief" that they have forgotten that HOW WE LIVE shows what we REALLY believe. This is part of the subject of my book LETTER TO THE AMERICAN CHURCH. The idea that I can claim I believe all kinds of things while BEHAVING as though I don't shows I don't ACTUALLY believe those things. We can focus TOO MUCH on moral behavior, but we have for some time focused TOO LITTLE on moral behavior. We've become so obsessed with preaching about "grace" and "faith" and against "works righteousness" that we've forgotten that FAITH WITHOUT WORKS IS DEAD. American Christians need to understand that our behavior matters to GOD and that saying we believe something while acting as though we don't means we do NOT have the faith we claim. The American church NEEDS to address this issue.
(By the way, this from a man who has offered his full-throated support of a President who brags about grabbing women by their genitals, cheated on his marriage, paid hush-money to a porn star, and was good friends with a pedophile. Just sayin’!)
This, to me, is the problem with American Christianity: It doesn’t believe in grace enough—or at all.
It’s always grace… and:
Moralism (as in personal morality—and an almost complete absence of neighbor morality)
Behaviorism (again, as defined personally, not communally)
Sin-management (need I say it again—always personal sin vs communal sin—neglecting the poor, turning a blind eye to injustice, etc.)
Believing the right way
Supporting the right political party
However, grace… and, is no grace at all.
For Jesus it is always and only grace—period. For Jesus it’s about living as a son or daughter of grace. Period. It’s about surrender to what Bono calls, the Big Idea—that love, grace, and mercy are enough. It’s about the Father constantly running to prodigals, embracing them with stunning love.
Grace is a transformational relationship, not a business transaction. Living like I’m loved (graced) changes my perspective on God and therefore my perspective on life as lived.
Sadly, and the Bible is filled with stories to confirm this, people wander from the pastures of grace and begin to nibble their way to lostness, a lostness that can, as in the case of Yancey, have profound traumatic consequences for those hurt by his wandering.
That is not the fault of grace. Nor does this make grace less gracious. It is grace and only grace precisely because without it there is no hope. There is no way back. There is no way ahead. Rules, sin management, moralism are false forms of grace. They give the pretense that we’re okay when we’re not.
Grace scandalously tells us we aren’t okay but that God has come to do something about it.
It doesn’t condone, excuse, or pooh pooh sin. It subversively forgives it (Father, forgive them, because they don’t know what they are doing).
It doesn’t give us a license to sin. It gives us the confidence that sin won’t define us. God’s love will.
Sometimes the light of grace shines so brightly on that which is hurting us and hurting others through us that our eyes are blinded by it. Sometimes the two-by-four of grace hits us on the head, knocking sense back into us (see the Prophet Nathan and his words to King David calling him out on his adultery). Sometimes grace burns the gunk out of our lives like a fever burns out toxins. Sometimes it challenges us, but always in the context that grace, not our sin, has the final word. Often times it comforts us, assuring us that God only and always comes to us with grace.
Yancey’s fall is not a call to be more moralistic, but to dive deeper into grace. Because that’s all there is. And it’s more than enough.
Grace does the hard work of putting broken lives and a broken world back together. It’s messy because we’re messy. It doesn’t neatly trim the bad stuff from our lives. It doesn’t guarantee that we’ll never sin. But that doesn’t mean it’s not enough.
When we’re found wanting, grace is all we have.
When we fall, grace is all we have.
As we navigate the messiness of humanity, grace is enough
When we seek to live as followers of Jesus, grace is enough.
We can’t bottle grace into nice, neat rules and strategies.
We can only swim in it.
It’s clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the universe. I’m absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that “as you reap, so you will sow” stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I’ve done a lot of stupid stuff. I’d be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge. It doesn’t excuse my mistakes, but I’m holding out for Grace. I’m holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don’t have to depend on my own religiosity. Bono
For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. 16 I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit 17 and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love. 18 I pray that you may have the power to comprehend, with all the saints, what is the breadth and length and height and depth 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.
20 Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen. Paul-Ephesians 3
Wow