When I was a child, I was fascinated by toys with lights. If you pushed a button, the lasers on the front of the spaceship lighted up. It was almost like I had a real spaceship. I was filled with wonder.
At some point, someone told me the lasers were just lights on the front of the plastic, spaceship looking thingy. The wonder was gone. Nothing had changed, but everything had changed. Nothing was really different, I just forgot the cool spaceship and the spaceship just became plastic and wires.
I stopped playing with spaceships.
I remember when I became a Christian I was in awe that God could love me so much that He would send Jesus to die for my sins. I remember the wonder of it all. The God of the universe loves me. He actually loves me that much. It was the wonder of grace. It set my soul on fire
At some point, someone told me they understood grace. People had studied theology and knew exactly how Jesus’ death could bring about the forgiveness of my sins. Some said it was by paying a debt, others argued it was by conquering an enemy, some insisted it was the purchase of a slave. Each built an elaborate, nuts-and-bolts explanation as to how grace functioned. They made lists of things that had to happen to get grace to work. It all came in a nice, neat formula.
Nothing was really any different than before. It is just that the cool spaceship became plastic and wires.
At some point. After I had grown up a little, I looked at the plastic and wires again. They were not just isolated components, but they came together to be something wonderful. I looked at plastic and wires and saw a spaceship again.
I began to, again, see the wonder of grace.