When does grace become stupidity?

I just made it back from my trip, and right away my friend E asked me one of those hard questions for which this blog was born. He expressed to me quite elegantly the need for strong doctrinal statements on a number of topics -- that certain beliefs were what we might call "essential" to the Christian faith. I on the other hand, considered these same topics to be "conviction" areas -- that is, issues that it is important for us to believe, but on which Christian believers might legitimately disagree while still considering one another to be "saved."

This distinction is important because essentials are things we don't back down on, whereas we need to have grace towards one another on conviction issues. I am big on grace; I consider it to be absolutely vital to my Christian walk. Since I teach teens in our church, however, it is particularly relevant that E has challenged me with this question, which I paraphrase below:

When does grace become stupidity?

The intent of this question is to divine where I draw the line on doctrinal issues; am I willing to let someone believe something I feel to be wrong, simply because I don't think it's essential to salvation? To be honest, my answer surprised me: grace became stupidity when God decided to save me.

I am old enough, and have seen enough of my own sin, that I have no comprehension why a holy God would want anything to do with me. In human terms, then, saving grace is "stupidity" -- it makes no sense. This sounds insulting to God, though, so perhaps I should call it "outrageous." Let me proclaim, therefore, that all grace is outrageous. If there is even one good reason why God would be good to me, I would deserve it, and it wouldn't be grace. That doesn't mean I'm not saved by grace, it simply makes my salvation outrageous.

If you have ever been wounded in the church (or even without) by rejection from other people, I strongly recommend Philip Yancy's book What's so Amazing about Grace? If we're honest with ourselves, I think we'll find that salvation makes no rational sense, nor do any of the small mercies we receive in our lives. That is grace. And I am persuaded that Christian believers can do more to spread the gospel by demonstrating that grace towards others than we ever could do through preaching and teaching alone.

Perhaps there are others whose callings in Christ require them to challenge mature believers to deeper faith. Perhaps we need people like E to force us to think hard about everything we believe, and not just a few essentials. Even so, I am still so overwhelmed by the grace of God that I can not imagine a need to preach anything more than Christ crucified and risen again (for me? For me!!).

All I really need to know I learned at Fenway Park

For those who don't know me personally, I grew up on the South Shore of Massachusetts (near Plymouth). My family has only been in that area for about 350 years, but it's been long enough that we picked up certain Bostonian characteristics -- like a love of the Red Sox. Since I now live in upstate NY, this runs me into occasional light-hearted conflict with the local Yankees fans. It is regarding one of them (L) that I write today.

Some time ago I received from my sister two tickets to a regular-season game at Fenway Park. For those of you not familiar with what that means, these things are *gold*. Thanks to the scalpers, you just can't buy them without divine intervention (or perhaps a second mortgage on your house). Since L is a good friend of mine, I invited him to join me for the trip.

When we arrived at the family abode, he was greeted by my parents (both Sox fans) and my aunt (a true die-hard, I hope her heart holds out now that Manny is gone). We all had our Sox gear, and L had enough sense to leave his NYY hat at home. L was welcomed in and treated as part of the family.

Our seats were on the 3rd base side, quite a way up, but still, we were IN. It was great. We sat between two guys who discussed fervently whether or not Tek needed a day off, and a woman with whom I attempted to determine who was warming up in the bullpen based on his delivery. Everyone was polite and clearly knowledgeable. And everyone had passion.

When our day was done (the Sox lost), and we began the long drive home, L said something to me that I never thought I'd hear -- that he was thinking of becoming a Sox fan because of our this trip. Certainly the metaphor of Fenway as a temple of baseball is overused, but it got me thinking about this situation as it applies to evangelism.

• Every Sox fan he met was willing to be known as a Sox fan. We love our team.
  
• We fans don't just carry empty passion for the Sox, we know what we love, and why.
  
• Every fan L met was kind towards him -- something he had never experienced in the Bronx.
  

We Evangelical Christians want people to become believers, and study books, tapes, and seminars to try to learn how. Maybe all we need to do is know whom we love, and why, and live in love towards other people. When someone does that to you, it's only natural to say "I want to be like that guy."