We sang a song this morning that included the phrase, “scandal of grace.” Sometimes, words and lyrics slip by us, perhaps making a momentary connection, but more frequently evaporating quickly. I haven’t heard this particular song for awhile although it’s familiar. My thoughts rested on this phrase as a bit unique. Anyone who has read any of my postings knows that grace is a constant theme. In my mind worth revisiting, even if just for a moment.

I have said before that I believe grace, as a foundation of Christianity, is unique to the world’s major faith systems. Nearly all others teach that the way to get from here to there (whatever here and there look like) is by effort. Jesus teaches differently and that’s a big deal. Really, there is no effort required and no effort is good enough so it doesn’t matter.

I have also said before that grace is, perhaps, the most powerful force in all of creation. It is one way by which love is projected. Love and grace go hand in hand. Grace, it turns out, is the greatest gift of all and is a way we can understand what love really is and what love really requires.

So, what could the phrase, “scandal of grace,” actually mean?

Well, for starters, let’s look at the word and concept of scandal. Turning to the handy dictionary, it certainly doesn’t look like scandal and grace go well together. I see scandal described as something “reprehensible” or causing “outrage.” One definition has scandal as an action or event that is “morally or legally wrong.” Pretty tough stuff.

However, diving more deeply, it apparently comes from the Latin, scandalum, which means “cause of offense.” The Greek skandalon is translated as a snare or stumbling block. Do these help?

On the surface, probably not. But I think there’s more to it, which is one reason I think the songwriter was very specific in choosing the phrase in the first place.

Let’s flip the whole thing on its head. Something I think Jesus was really good at. He said the rules of this world are not really the rules. And the rule followers of this world are playing with dynamite.

Because rule followers like rules. And, adherence to rules requires all sorts of effort and conditions, which (in turn) require a boatload of energy to judge things on the merits. And that’s where things get all tangled up and we bind ourselves in veritable straight jackets. I expect it’s very hard to be gracious when bound in a straight jacket.

We humans build all sorts of institutions and edifices around rules. Now, rules aren’t inherently bad, of course, but when they become the thing that demands our allegiance in overpowering ways, the rules themselves become sacred, displacing what is really sacred. Rules beget rules, which in turn beget interest groups charged with enforcement, invariably leading to more rules, leading to divisions and distrust, leading at times to anger and contempt and … well, you get the picture.

We are especially good at dividing ourselves, organizing our communities based on some sense of merit and accomplishment. It’s no wonder pride is considered the greatest sin. Pride is a really good divider. None of us is immune.

You want to see scandal? Just look at the face of the elder brother in Rembrandt’s rendition of Luke 15:11-32, when the father exudes grace at the return of his wayward younger son. With a heart turned hard at the grave injustice of it all, the breaking of the rules (as the elder brother perceives them), he clearly finds the whole thing reprehensible. This is the Gospel in a nutshell and what a scandal it is!

Or course it’s scandalous. What an attack on the prevailing cultural norms, regardless of time period. When the powers that be toss the thick rule book out the window, replacing it with a word that relegates the most intricate codes to virtual dust, how else to describe it?

In a world where accomplishment, conformity and accumulation drive behavior, to sweep them off the table with a free gift is to expose the house of cards as what it really is. Just a fragile thing built upon a promise of stability but, in fact, possessing nothing of the sort.

And that’s what grace does. And this is where it gets interesting.

We can choose to look at grace in a couple of different ways. Simply, we can nod our heads and realize that grace is a really neat thing. We can acknowledge that unmerited giving is an especially good trait, made far more meaningful when the giver is God.

Or, we can shake the cobwebs from our heads and, flatly, be stunned. We can begin opening ourselves to the possibility that this thing, grace, is suffused with such power that it can bring the world to its knees. In fact, in my mind, it already has. I’m just too simple minded to grasp the enormity of it all.

So, yes, as I sang the words this morning, I briefly went to a place that reminds me of this. Yes, grace is amazing. Amazing Grace. Surely a scandal of epic proportions. A scandal celebrated by a celestial choir to which we are all called to join. Amen.