You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, to be known and read by all… (2 Cor. 3:2)
Dear Friends,
For several years now, I often use a particular phrase as means of closing my email correspondence. I am not sure of when I started this habit, exactly, but I can remember why.
Knowing my limits, I wanted to convey more than the meager words on the screen that I had perhaps hastily chosen. Even my best attempts at composition are not likely to fully justify the inadequacy of my ideas. And even as I write this now, I realize that this applies to more than just emails, but true for me in other arenas of communication as well, be it the pulpit or the front porch.
Generally, no matter what the message is about, I prayerfully want more for my recipient than anything I can give them. Out of ignorance, I also want something that might cover us both in the face of human incompetence, but a word that was not going to allow either one of us off the hook, either.
So years ago, I checked with the Apostle Paul. His salutation to the church at Corinth captured my intention. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ (1:3).
Inspired by this declaration of intent, I gladly lifted it for my own purposes. Hence, before clicking “send,” I began closing with “Grace to You.”
It seemed more comprehensive than the usual standbys. “Sincerely” strikes me as occasionally impersonal and unnecessarily redundant. Why would I bother to type it up if I did not mean it? I also wonder how many have ever closed a letter “Insincerely Yours,” or if we just save that social media. “Fondly” may sound a bit creepy in certain contexts (not to mention potentially misleading) and “Warmest Regards” could be, in a case of conflict, misconstrued as a theological suggestion (or directive, if you catch my drift!). “Blessings” sounds bright and cheerful, but may not always fit one’s mood when plowing through email responses. It’s also a bit ambiguous for my taste (what kind of blessings?), and thus, incomplete.
I suppose the larger point of all this musing is to say that no matter how they are signed, sealed, or delivered, our messages need help in order to be heard. Experience tells us that things do get lost in translation, and the consequences can be most unfortunate. In order to be received as intended, our utterances to one another often require some form of mediation. Paul describes this intercession as the work of the Holy Spirit, who comes with sighs too deep for words (Rom. 8:26).
Having evaluated our so-called ‘wisdom’ the Apostle makes his case for the foolishness of God as revealed to us in the proclamation of Jesus. Once this ‘theology of the cross’ infiltrates our daily conversations, the weight of personal opinion is released into the freedom of penitent dust. The power of this grace changes everything, beginning with our understanding of ourselves.
As one commentator has said, “’Grace to you’ means, ‘may you appreciate God’s grace more fully than in the past.’ ‘May you be more and more grateful to God because he came to you in the person of Jesus, although we did not deserve it’” (J. Hargreaves, 1978).
Grace to You. That is quite a closing argument! Whether it be heard as a specific blessing or a gentle rebuke, I will likely never know. Under the conditions of the Spirit, however, it works as both closing to the old and opening to the new.
This is an amazing, reconciling, disruptive grace. Be aware of those to whom you send it, and be prepared for their reply. Whether in protest or in praise, it will not go unnoticed.
God, Father, Son and Holy Ghost! Forbid that we depart without thy loving and severe word accompanying us, each one to our respective place; into our particular experiences, concerns, sorrows and expectations, into this Sunday and into this coming week! Be and remain present and at work among us. Keep the light burning which so often is about to go out.
(A Prayer of Karl Barth)
Grace to You,
Darren