Recently, a high school teacher I know – who happens to be my wife, had a student give her a decoration that he had made in ceramics class.  The ceramics students were instructed to give their project to a favorite teacher, so the student chose to give it to her. The problem was that it had broken into 2 pieces.  Feeling a bit apologetic and embarrassed, the student had sheepishly pulled the broken decoration out of his pocket and gave it to my wife with an explanation that she was his favorite teacher.  Of course she was honored and accepted the gift with gladness.  In fact, it had more meaning because of the sincere heart behind the broken gift. 

Now I suppose one could think that had the student thought it through and done things “right,” he could’ve waited to make another one, chosen a gift that wasn’t broken or flawed in some way, or not given one at all. 

The more I reflect on that moment, the more I realize how often we can view people and their circumstances through a rigid lens.  We want them to “show up”, but the truth is—they often don’t. At least not consistently, and not in the neat and tidy ways we prefer.

Grace means we meet people where they are at

We are often so focused on paradigms, systems, formulas, and “the way things are supposed to work” that we stop seeing people. I’ve often seen this in church contexts especially among Christian leaders.   We default to looking at others (including ourselves) through our own rigid lenses—rules, expectations, and rigid standards—rather than through the lens of God’s grace. When that happens, we overlook the complexity of a person’s story, the weight of their circumstances, and the compassion God invites us to extend.  That doesn’t mean we lower standards or justify certain types of behaviors.  It simply means we meet people where they are at.  That’s what God does with you and me.  Consider what the apostle Paul said about us, “…while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).  Meaning, God stooped down to our level – right where we are at in our sinful state – out of love – not to dismiss our sin problem, but to provide the only solution to it.  

Grace doesn’t deny truth, it delivers truth wrapped in mercy and hope

The story of the woman caught in adultery illustrates this beautifully (John 8). When read through a rigid legalistic lens, the focus falls solely on the rules she broke and the judgment she deserved. The mosaic law required her to be stoned.  Yet Jesus saw her differently.  He neither excused her sin nor ignored it, but He refused to define her by it. He silenced her accusers, shielded her from condemnation, and offered her a path toward new life.  What a picture of grace!
Grace doesn’t deny truth—it delivers truth – wrapped in mercy and hope.

We can tend to drift toward one of two extremes:

Licentiousness — where grace becomes a blanket permission for anything, as if God is indifferent to sin.  And Legalism — where everything must be done “by the book,” no exceptions, and people are measured solely by their ability to follow the rules.  Jesus rejects both!

We see these extremes in the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15.  Jesus shares this story of the younger son who embodies the recklessness of license.  He’s totally selfish, impulsive and self centered. The older son reflects the rigid mindset of legalism – “Gotta follow the rules, that’s just how it’s done”.  I suspect there are both aspects of each character in all of us.  But both sons in this parable are lost—just in different ways. The older brother can’t celebrate grace because he can’t see beyond the rules. He’s so committed to earning the father’s favor that the father’s joy over his returning brother feels unfair. The father is rejoicing—but the older son cannot join in, because he is trapped behind the rigid lens of legalism.

God can work with broken pieces

Grace calls us to something better. It invites us to see people the way Jesus sees them—not through the lens of their failures or their performance, but through the compassionate, redemptive love of God. As someone who has experienced grace on multiple levels, I want my default to be extending that same grace to others in the name of Christ. Yet I still find myself slipping into judgment, rigidity, and impatience with people who may need a dose of the very grace I’ve received.

None of us live life in the neat and tidy ways we imagine. We aren’t entitled to the mercy and grace that God gives, nor could we ever earn it. And if we’re honest, all we really have to offer Him—and each other—are broken pieces of ourselves. But the beauty of grace is this: God can work with broken pieces!  He gathers what we humbly bring, even when it comes fractured and fragile, and makes something meaningful out of it. And when we learn to view others through that same lens of grace, we become participants in His healing work—receiving grace, giving grace, and seeing people the way He sees them.