What if it really is all about God’s grace? What if grace is the beginning, middle and end of the story? What if it is simply not about us and what we do or don’t do?
I hope you’ll let these few short sentences sink in. If you do, it will absolutely Change.Your.Life.
My life is a witness to vulgar grace — a grace that amazes as it offends.
A grace that pays the eager beaver who works all day long the same wage as the grinning drunk who shows up at ten till five.
A grace that hikes up the robe and runs breakneck toward the prodigal reeking of sin and wraps him up and decides to throw a party, no ifs, ands, or buts.
A grace that raises bloodshot eyes to a dying thief’s request — “Please, remember me” — and assures him, “You bet!”
This vulgar grace is indiscriminate compassion. It works without asking anything of us. It’s not cheap. It’s free, and as such will always be a banana peel for the orthodox foot and a fairy tale for the grown-up sensibility.
Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might to try and find something or someone that it cannot cover. Grace is enough.
All is Grace: A Ragamuffin Memoir, by Brennan Manning