We could see it rising and we wanted to prepare our staff well. In October 2020, the Head of School led a staff training on living as a Christ-follower in a polarized world. Our small, rural, international Christian school recognized what was happening globally and wanted to take our cues from Scripture, not follow the example of any one nation or denomination represented in our community. That is often easier said than done.

Our leadership team brainstormed ideas: how could our staff build spiritual, relational, and conversational muscles to navigate topics that were dividing other faith communities? We concluded it would be good to practice with one another before entering into those conversations with our students. In the fall of 2021, our school launched City Gates, a monthly staff discussion. An article, podcast, or short video would be shared with staff a couple weeks before a City Gates. The resources were ones that highlighted topics on which followers of Jesus often didn’t agree. During the facilitated conversation, people practiced listening, disagreeing, and articulating thoughts and experiences.  

We were asking ourselves, “Could we learn to have conversations where we listen well, assume the best, and may still disagree?” In biblical times, the city gates were a significant place of activity. This is where news was exchanged. Ideas were discussed. Decrees were issued. Armies were dispatched. Legal matters were settled. The city gates represented the flow of thought of the whole community. This is why wisdom, personified in Proverbs chapter 1, is said to “make her speech at the gateway of the city.”

Everyone was invited to the city gates, whether they wished to participate actively or simply observe the exchanges that took place. That was our hope as well with the conversations fostered among our staff at our City Gates. Staff came to the conversations with strong ideas or simply with curiosity to listen. They brought opinions or formed them along the way. There was honest engagement and listening to Wisdom together.

In this international school context, navigating conversations at City Gates, in my office, on walks through the forest, and over meals, I have become increasingly aware of the tension experienced between grace and truth. It seems that most people are naturally drawn to grace or naturally drawn to truth. There are those who appear to be full of grace: I see them foster relationships, move towards the other person, and remind people of the love Jesus has for them. Grace-filled people extend, nurture, give, invite, and pursue. And there are people who I view as full of truth: I see them hold fast to faithfulness, integrity, and holiness. Truth-filled people submit to the teachings of Scripture and bravely call others to submit to the same authority. 

These distinctions are already problematic. Describing someone as being drawn to grace or drawn to truth creates a false, incomplete picture. What the above descriptions bring to light is a failure in my understanding of the concepts of grace and truth. Grace and truth are not character traits in competition with one another or at different ends of a spectrum. Grace cannot exist without truth; truth cannot exist without grace. How do I know? 

City Gates created firsthand experience with people holding positions that are passionately and increasingly opposed. Taking steps into these conversations led me to consider John’s description of Jesus at the beginning of his Gospel. This portrait of Jesus has not only shaped my approach to these topics, but my engagement with all values that threaten to tear apart relationships. John writes:

The Word became flesh and dwelt among us. We observed his glory, the glory as the one and only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. [...] Indeed, we have all received grace upon grace from his fullness, for the law was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. No one has ever seen God. The one and only Son, who is himself God and is at the Father’s side—he has revealed him. (John 1:14, 16-17)

Jesus was full of grace. Jesus was full of truth. There was not some balance he was seeking to strike; he embodied both, simultaneously, and without tension. 

Jesus shows us what this looks like with breathtaking examples, including the woman at the well in John 4 or the rich young ruler in Mark 10. To one, Jesus extended dignity and compassion while asking challenging questions and revealing his identity. To the other, Jesus looked on him with love while calling him to walk away from all he owned. Grace and truth, both, to each. Always. 

For me, this is hard to embody. I’ve been trained to think I need to find a “middle ground,” that it is impossible for any person to be all grace and all truth. Our culture paints mutually exclusive pictures of grace-filled people (“I’m just a big softie”) and truth-filled people (“I tell it like it is”). Yet the fully human Jesus embodied both, so I must consider that option for me as well.

Truth matters. We have been given a full canon of Scripture that unfolds a narrative shaping the story in which we live. Jesus was clear that he was the fulfillment of all that came before, including the law and the prophets (Luke 24:27). He said he did not come to abolish the Law, but to accomplish its purpose (Matthew 5:17). Jesus identified himself as the truth (John 14:6). In his teaching, Jesus often stated, “I am telling you the truth…” as he shared teaching that described a Kingdom way of living. And Jesus meant what he said: his followers are called to a life of obedience, to the lived embodiment of the truth found in Scripture and incarnated in the person of Jesus Christ.

Grace matters. Not one person has lived a fully human life without sin except for Jesus. Humans were created from the dust (Genesis 2:7). We were created with limitations that we sought to blow past from the beginning (Genesis 3:1-7). We fail. We sin. We are unable to make ourselves right with Yahweh or enter his Kingdom on our own merit. We are in desperate need of grace. Ephesians 2:1-10 is a beautiful summary of being brought from death, because of our disobedience and sin, to life in Jesus, and Paul is clear throughout those verses that “God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it’s a gift from God.” 

So why do we fall into the trap of believing grace and truth are opposing approaches? This tension is nothing new. People, for all time, have struggled to believe that grace and truth can exist in their fullness together. Scripture has accounts of Pharisees who looked with disdain on “sinners” as if they were exempt from that description. And Paul anticipates a foolish objection to legalism with “should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace?” (Romans 6:1) It can be encouraging to see that our false dichotomy lands us in ancient company, but why are we so prone to see grace and truth as opposite forces? There are two clear reasons for this.  

The first is that we prefer the path of least resistance. Living in a way marked by truth and grace takes discernment, wisdom, and dependence on the Spirit. It is full of nuance, and we naturally resist that in favor of clear demarcations. We want to know what is allowed and what isn’t allowed. Or, alternatively, we want absolute freedom to define what is good on our own terms. Maturing in a life marked by grace and truth not only takes work and discernment, but time, prayer, and humility. That’s a big ask.

The second reason we doubt grace and truth can exist in fullness together is that we fundamentally misunderstand grace and truth. Truth without grace is not really truth, but legalism. Grace without truth is not really grace, but indulgence. Truth, fully embodied, acknowledges a need for grace. Grace, fully embodied, acknowledges that there is a standard of truth that I am not meeting (1 John 1:8). 

The crucifixion was Jesus’s ultimate embodiment of the unity of grace and truth in his life. By dying, Jesus acknowledged the truth of sin, Yahweh’s righteousness, and humanity’s abject failure to hold up our end of any covenant Yahweh had ever established with his people. In his death, Jesus extended absolute grace, dying on humanity’s behalf so that we may have life in Him. Grace and truth were on full display in Jesus.

What do we need in this cultural moment where families, churches, and communities are passionately and increasingly opposed? The answer is what it has always been: Jesus. Specifically, the grace and truth of Jesus embodied in his followers who pick up their crosses as well.

“Then (Jesus) said to the crowd, ‘If any of you wants to be my follower, you must give up your own way, take up your cross daily, and follow me’” (Luke 9:23). Choosing to live as a follower of Jesus means choosing to live out, probably at great cost, the grace and truth Jesus displayed on the cross to all people in all circumstances. 

So what might this look like? Paul described what it looked like in Romans 12:9-18:

Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection, and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically. Rejoice in our confident hope. Be patient in trouble, and keep on praying. When God’s people are in need, be ready to help them. Always be eager to practice hospitality.

Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them. Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!

Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone.

That can feel impossible. We may find ourselves saying things like "Paul wasn't talking about this situation," or "empathy is a sin," or "forgiveness condones abuse," or "but we have to protect ourselves and our families." However, the biblical authors wrote and Jesus spoke under circumstances that included exploitation, abuse, persecution, and marginalization. Jesus did say what he said “in this situation.” Though it feels impossible to live like Paul describes in Romans, it is possible as we ask the Spirit to help us to live in obedience to Jesus, full of grace and truth. 

We also need to live knowing we have sinned like everyone else and are in desperate need of grace ourselves. In John 8, a woman was caught in adultery. According to the law, she should be put to death. Jesus’s response was not to ignore her sin, but to invite all those prepared to stone her to recognize their sin as well. We all sin. We all deserve to be “kicked out of our school” or church or mission organization when the standard is Jesus. So we drop our stones aimed at one another and instead turn our attention to, “How do we as a community, ‘Go and sin no more?’”

And that’s the thing: living like Jesus, full of grace and truth, is impossible to do on our own. We need the community of faith represented in Scripture to point the way. We need the community of the Church throughout history to help us understand what it means to embody grace and truth (and what it doesn’t look like at times) in a cultural moment. We also need to be part of local communities that help us to wisely discern what a “full of grace and truth” response looks like, gently pointing out when we buy into the lie that these are in tension, and inviting us to pick up our cross and follow Jesus together, daily.

One practical step I have learned as I engaged with others in both grace and truth is to ask the question, “What do you mean when you say that?” 

Far too often, we see families in conflict, teenagers suffering isolation, schools and churches struggling over policies, all because of assumed meaning behind language. We react to what we think people mean rather than pausing to check our understanding. When we feel like our relationships, our values, our jobs, and our convictions are threatened, we respond in fear rather than faith. 

This one simple question - what do you mean when you say that? - has the ability to build incredible relational bridges. Try using this question once this week in a conversation at church, online, or even in your family. Then listen without jumping in to correct or defend. Even in your reading of this article, pay attention to your own reactions and responses. Would you use these terms the same ways I do? Do you bristle at any of my assertions? Would you say things differently? If I was sitting down to coffee with you, would you patiently help me understand your terms so that we could walk forward together?

Jesus said that his disciples would be known by their love for one another (John 13:35). It would follow, then, that his followers are united in our desire to point others, especially our brothers and sisters, toward him. We cannot do this apart from embodying grace and truth. We will get this wrong at times. We will fall short. We may be misunderstood. We might sometimes add to the problem rather than bring peace. We may overemphasize grace in ways that seem like compromise, or champion truth in ways that feel unloving. So how do we respond when we fail?

Again and again, may we return to John 1 and the reminder that we have received “grace upon grace from his fullness.” And as we dwell with the one who has dwelled among us, full of grace and truth, with the Spirit’s wisdom, may we extend grace and truth to others.