I grew up in a Christian home where the pulpits rang out with one word, repeated ad infinitum: Grace, Grace, Grace. In modern American Christianity, most pastors take this emphasis a step further, clarifying that works have absolutely no value in our salvation. Yet, I have always found it ironic that in these same churches, tithing is still taught as a requirement. Apparently, the “Age of Grace” covers everything except the offering plate. (I’ve covered this contradiction extensively in my previous writing on Beit Gamaliel, so I won’t belabor it here).

Recently, I had a conversation with a gentleman very familiar with Jewish studies. Knowing I was Torah observant, he was curious about my journey. I usually hate getting into this with Christians—the walls go up so quickly—but I decided to share the origin of my shift. It started with an existential crisis about 30 years ago.

The Israel Epiphany

I was struggling with my own faith, finding myself torn between the paradigms of grace and works. I will say this: if you are a person of faith and you have not found yourself threading the delicate needle of the faith/works paradigm, you aren’t thinking hard enough about your own theology.

During this time, I found myself on a video shoot in Israel, all expenses paid. It was a perfect setting for a crisis of conscience. One evening at dinner, I sat with my then-pastor and our Jewish tour guide. I decided to test the waters.

I turned to my pastor first and asked, “What is the role of the law in the life of a Christian?” Without hesitation, he replied, “They are acts of righteousness.” I then turned to our Jewish guide and asked the exact same question. His answer was identical: “They are acts of righteousness.”

My crisis crystallized in that moment: If Christians and Jews both view obedience to the law as acts of righteousness, why do Christians disregard it in the face of grace?

The “Freedom” of Grace

Also on this trip was a local minister from a neighboring church. He was ALL ABOUT GRACE. Any time he saw a Jew being observant—whether in prayer at the Wall or reading Scripture—he would make a negative comment. He claimed they didn’t have “freedom in Jesus.” He went on rants about how their faith was like shackles. He insisted they never experienced freedom because they lived in fear that God would strike them dead. He wanted nothing to do with anything that even hinted at “legalism.” He was free.

As fate would have it, a few months after we returned to the States, that minister was accused of having an inappropriate relationship with a teenage girl. His credentials were suspended. It appeared the accusations had merit. In time, he went through the proper steps for restoration and was reinstated.

Sadly, it happened again. And then again.

I will never forget when my mother called to ask if I had heard the news about him. I felt a sick pit in my stomach. I said to her, “Please tell me he embezzled a million dollars. I will completely respect him if he pulled off an embezzlement.” She was silent. That is when I knew.

When Grace Stops Working

I remember thinking to myself regarding that minister: How is that grace working for you? This man, who preached so loudly against the “shackles” of the law, had completely ruined the lives of three young ladies because he apparently lacked the self-control to keep his pants on. It blew my mind. His “freedom” was nothing more than license for destruction.

Grace is great. I will concur that the Bible teaches we are saved by grace through faith:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9)

But we cannot stop reading there. Because Scripture also screams that faith without works is dead (James 2:26).

If faith without works is dead, what is the role of works? Can we just roll through this life abusing whomever we desire and stand in church on Sunday, guiltless before God? Or do we, like Yeshua with the woman caught in adultery, hear the command: “Go and sin no more” (John 8:11)? At what point do we teach people to pull their heads out of their own butts and stop doing stupid stuff?

“Works” is exactly that: The discipline to STOP. Freedom is not freedom to sin. It is the freedom from condemnation OF sin.

The Tapestry

This was my crisis: When does grace stop working? It stops working when we use it as an excuse to avoid the hard work of holiness. It stops working when we divorce it from the behavior God expects of His people.

I realized that grace is not a replacement for the law; it is the safety net beneath it. When I looked at the devout faith displayed by our Orthodox Jewish brothers and sisters, I didn’t see shackles. I saw the only tapestry upon which grace can be clearly woven. Apart from the law there is no sin (Romans 4:15). If there is no sin, there is no need for grace.

When do our own works of righteousness bridge the gap between my incompetence and my insolence? They don’t save us, but they define us. Apart from the law—apart from a standard of righteousness—grace has no point. Grace is the answer to our failure to keep the law, not permission to abandon it.

Moving toward Judaism and Torah observance wasn’t a rejection of grace. It was the only way I could find to take grace seriously.