Grace And Truth

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth. [John 1:14]

sync Grace and truth?

I think a lot about John’s opening verses describing Jesus simply as The Word. I love the poetry, the imagery, and the intimate spiritual experience John portrays.

In his first letter (1 John 1) he expands the picture of a sensory, experiential encounter with Jesus: That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and our hands have touched—this we proclaim concerning the Word of life.

Can you feel his passion? John isn’t just relating words. He’s proclaiming a deep connection involving his senses—he touched The Word, saw and heard The Word, felt and experienced The Word of God. I sense that John invites me to allow The Word to wrap itself around me and soak into me until I’m literally infused with its presence and power.

But I’ve always sort of wondered about the linkage of grace and truth, which he repeats in verse 17: For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

Grace and truth—doesn’t that seem like an odd combination of attributes?

I understand that Jesus is all about grace. And I certainly believe that he came to proclaim truth. But why did John emphasize the juxtaposition of grace and truth in describing Jesus?

I’m beginning to understand that, in a sense, experiencing Jesus almost requires combining these two apparently disparate notions. My experience with grace and truth forms a cycle.

The primary truth I learn from Jesus is my need for Him. I’m lost, and I can’t discover my own path from darkness. I can’t earn my way. At its core, truth involves acknowledging that I’m broken.

But by itself, truth leaves me hopeless. Truth highlights my need for grace.

And the moment I confront that first kernel of truth, grace washes over me. The same Word that convicts me also sets me free. I’m free to confront deeper truth, secure in the hope that grace will always be sufficient. More hope allows me to acknowledge more truth, which allows me to experience even more grace.

Truth, without grace, creates hopelessness.
Grace, without truth, can’t be experienced.

I think that’s what John wanted to communicate. He wanted to express that when he walked and talked with Jesus, he touched, heard, saw, and intimately encountered both the truth that condemns and the grace that liberates.

In a strange way, I learn each day about the message of my own story. The cover of Relentless Grace includes this subtitle: God’s Invitation To Give Hope Another Chance.

I’m learning that “hope” leads me out of darkness and into the wonderful light of truth, secure in God’s limitless, matchless, relentless grace.

How have you experienced this cycle of grace and truth?