We have a perennially conflicted relationship with grace. Especially in this country where we routinely bow before the altar of the Protestant Work Ethic. Our particular expression of it may be our own, but evidence suggests that humans in diverse cultures have struggled for centuries with unmerited goodness – else why would Jesus, among others, have told so many stories in which grace is the hero? The passing Samaritan owed nothing to the beaten man in the ditch – who had done nothing to deserve his attack, but neither done anything to merit the stranger’s kindness. He was given grace. The loving father owed nothing more to his errant younger son, but he met the shamed child’s return with grace. “Forgive us our debts,” Jesus taught us to pray, “as we forgive our debtors.” “Love your enemy.” Just for starters. But never mind all that. In this country, an aspirational meritocracy, sleeping in whatever bed we have made is righteousness while charity, mercy, and the undeserved break are sins.
Grace we begrudgingly confine to matters of the spirit, where, despite our loathing, we accept divine generosity as a precondition to salvation. We want to “go to heaven when we die,” and if grace is the only ticket, then OK. We’ll go with it. In church, but nowhere else. Step outside those stained glass-windowed doors and it’s back to the bootstraps. Pull yourself up.
As far as I can tell, that’s the rub behind the recent decision to forgive, within limits, some student indebtedness. “You knew what you were getting into when you cashed those loan checks. Don’t ask me to bail you out.” We have an allergy to the notion of people getting what they don’t “deserve”.
Except when self-interest offers an antihistamine.
Most years the government sends me money to augment proceeds from our under-performing South Texas farm. Some years those payments are classified as “price supports,” other years they are designated as disaster relief from some horticultural calamity – a drought, a storm, a pandemic, an embargo. As far as I know, I did nothing to deserve these payments other than show up. But I didn’t send them back.
When we installed solar panels several years ago, we happily and gratefully accepted the tax credits that took the edge off the expense.
Pretty much every organization with which I have some connection - and many of the businesses I know - received PPP loans during the recent pandemic which were subsequently “forgiven”. Every one of those same organizations and businesses - along with every one of their Board members and shareholders – breathed a sigh of relief.
All manner of industries receive what amounts to “welfare” payments in the form of tax credits, incentives, and outright grants – the ethanol industry, the petroleum industry, hog confinements and even Amazon whenever they build a new warehouse. America owes its auto industry to federal bailouts.
I have no doubt that there are multiple reasons behind such munificence, some of them almost certainly nefarious. Politics. Pandering. Among others. Against those, however, is the natural and useful imperative of government to encourage the common good, and incentivize it. We will frequently disagree with the justifications ascribed to one or another recipient of such public support, but they are more Darwinian than even Darwin who assert that no such encouragement should be monetized whatsoever. The “free market” is crueler than nature, and I am willing to hope that we can do better. Jesus thought so.
We can liberate grace from the sanctuary and allow it to flourish in the breadth of our living and not merely our aspirations of Heaven. As a lifestyle and not merely a theological transaction.
Maybe even in our public policies. Maybe even in our public life. Grace, breaking out all over.
Heaven help us.
Please.
Who knows what might happen? After all, we know the hell that happens when it doesn’t,
