I have a new favorite visualization of what grace is.  Actually, I don’t know that I ever actually had a favorite visualization before.  In the past, whenever I thought about grace, it was usually to picture beautiful things co-existing with dirty things.  A beautiful flower rising out of a compost heap.  Two friends hugging and smiling through their tears.  Normally, when I think of grace, I think of goodness, love, and peace.  Happiness smoothing over the sad.  Saying ‘it’s OK’ even when you don’t feel it is.

Of course I can tell you all the theological definitions of grace; the important things, like loving the unlovable, redeeming and restoring, giving people second chances.  I even know that grace is sometimes hard and messy and a lot of times I’d rather just not do it.  My instinct is to always flee from conflict, so I don’t have to give grace and deal with the pain of it all.

Even though I know all the hard parts of grace, I still, in my mind, couch it in images of peace and beauty, as if grace was some sort of ethereal fairy-type concept that is otherworldly, which of course, it is.

But in reality, grace is gritty, raw, and real.

It’s one thing to imagine the concept of grace. It’s another thing to define it, and it’s a separate other thing entirely to live it out.  And it’s a fourth thing altogether to see it unexpectedly on your tv screen when you thought you had settled in to watch a comedy.

I watched a movie last night called Win Win, and now I have my favorite expression of what grace is.

The shockingly comical opening word from the 6 year old daughter sets the stage for the movie, even though, at the time, you don’t realize it.

“Shit.”

And it is.  The family is financially struggling.  The dad coaches a losing wrestling team and can barely afford to keep his law office running.  You see the love he has for his family, the struggle he has to provide, and you find yourself rooting for him.

An ethically questionable way of making money soon presents itself, and conflict ensues.  You feel this tension for the rest of the movie.

The turning point of the story arrives with a teenager realizing he’s been lied to and betrayed.  This realization is quickly followed by his chance to offer grace.  It is not even forgiveness that he has to think about.  It’s simply offering a second chance.  We know he has received a second chance.  What we don’t know is if he will reciprocate that blessing.

The adult and teen stare at each other, each needing the other, but only one having the power to enable grace.  A slight headshake, and we know.  Or, we think we know.  On edge, we watch this teenager, of rough background and interesting tattoos, his backpack in hand, ready to leave forever.  Does he run from it all?  From the betrayal and deceit?  Or does he stay?

And this is where messy grace is beauty.  This is why we need story and art. In spite of all my fairy-like rainbows and unicorns visualizations of beautiful grace, grace really is beautiful in it’s own raw, real-life way. 

Kyle turns his back on the adults, and slams his backpack on the ground.  He will stay.  But as he does so, he screams,

“This is BULLSHIT!”

Oh, how I wish there was a Youtube clip of this scene.  It is so beautiful to see him make the right decision, yet at the same time, affirm the pain, knowing that he won’t be able to seek vengeance, and uttering what an utterly crappy situation the whole thing is.

And it is.  When we have to stay in the betrayal and deal with the lies.  When we don’t get the temporary satisfaction of saying ‘I told you so’ or throwing our tantrum because we have been wronged!  When we refuse to slouch in self-pity because something deep inside us calls to something better.  When we have to remember the worst of ourselves so we can relate to the pain in front of us, it is all. so. shitty.

It’s not fair.  That’s one of the hardest things, I think, about grace.  When we have the chance to give it, it doesn’t seem fair.  And yet, in the grandest sense of all, of course it is extremely fair.  We have received grace, so we pass that on to others.  But in the immediacy of the moment, we can only think about how we feel.

But when we stay in the midst of the mess….when we just stay.  When we stay with the relationship in spite of the pain, then sometimes we can get back to the daily goodness of just being together, in friendship, in love, in life.

Sometimes the after-grace looks like going upstairs to the table, silently eating pancakes together, knowing that in spite of it all, you’ll be OK.

We all need second chances.  We all need grace. Even if sometimes it’s bullshit.