Many evangelical Christians are speaking grace without truth, while others are speaking truth without grace. But Scripture tells us this about Jesus: “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).
“For the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (John 1:17).
Not 50% grace and 50% truth, but 100% of both. To be like Jesus is to be full of grace AND truth. So as Christ’s followers, shouldn’t that be our goal?
Truth hates sin. Grace loves sinners. Those full of grace and truth—those full of Jesus—do both.
“Hate the sin, but love the sinner.” No one did either like Jesus. Truth hates sin. Grace loves sinners. Those full of grace and truth—those full of Jesus—do both.
“‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin’” (John 8:11).
Attempts to “soften” the gospel by minimizing truth keep people from Jesus. Attempts to “toughen” the gospel by minimizing grace keep people from Jesus. It’s not enough for us to offer grace or truth. We must offer both.
Grace without truth is not biblical grace, and truth without grace is not biblical truth.
When we offend everybody, often we’ve declared truth without grace. When we offend nobody, we’ve watered down truth in the name of grace.
The Pharisees were self-appointed gatekeepers who never emphasized grace. Christ’s hearers had seen truth in the law of Moses, but it was Christ who gave them their first clear view of grace. The law could only reveal sin. Jesus could remove it.
Some churches today embrace truth but need a heavy dose of grace. Other churches talk about grace but cry out for a heavy dose of truth.
Some time ago, after she had written to me with many criticisms, I invited a woman who was a lesbian and pro-abortion activist to lunch. For the first hour, she hammered me, telling of all the Christians who’d mistreated her. She seemed as hard as nails. I listened, trying to show her God’s grace, praying she’d see the Jesus she desperately needed. She raised her voice and cursed freely. People stared. But that was okay. Jesus went to the cross for her—the least I could do was listen.
Suddenly she was crying, sobbing, broken. I reached across the table and took her hand. For the next two hours I heard her story, her heartsickness, and finally, her doubts about the causes she championed. I told her about Christ’s grace.
After four hours we walked out of that restaurant, side by side. We hugged.
In our conversation, truth wasn’t shared at the expense of grace, or grace at the expense of truth.
Last I knew, this woman was walking with Jesus. I think of her sometimes when I’m trying to do the difficult but Christlike thing: speaking to people with both grace and truth.
