Is his small book, Chiamati per essere inviati (Called to be dent), Amedeo Cencini builds on Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s reflection about “grace with a cheap price” and “grace with a costly price”, an important theme of the late German Lutheran theologian.

Bonhoeffer said that: “Grace with a cheap price is a great enemy of the Church as it entails the preaching of forgiveness without requiring repentance, baptism without Church discipline, communion without confession, absolution without personal confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, and grace without Jesus Christ, living and incarnate… Cheap grace means grace sold on the market like cheapjacks’ wares…. The sacraments, the forgiveness of sin, and the consolations of religion are thrown away at cut prices.”

“Today,” wrote Bonhoeffer more than 70 years ago, “we are encountering a ‘grace’ for which we have to pay a costly price.” He spoke truly then, and his words are timely now.

Because of his faith, Bonhoeffer was captured by the Gestapo and sent to a concentration camp of Flossenbürg in 1943 to await his execution on April 8, 1945. In paying the ultimate price, he gave rich and authentic witness to this precious grace.

Bonhoeffer wrote that “costly grace is the treasure hidden in the field; for the sake of it a man will go and sell all that he has. It is the pearl of great price for which a merchant is willing to sell all he possesses. It is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the eye which causes him to stumble; it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows Him.

“Costly grace is the Gospel which must be sought again and again, the gift which must be asked for, the door at which a man must knock.”

From Bonhoeffer’s reflection it is easy to see that the ‘cheap grace’ is grace without sequela, a vocation without a mission, Christian life without conscience or responsibility.

Where there is no appreciation for ‘costly grace’, or when this is eclipsed by ‘cheap grace’, there cannot be that decision with which one assumes responsibility for the particular mission for which he is called by God.

Grace which, once accepted, carries a certain price triggers a mechanism by which one gives of himself in order to become a grace for others. Filled with a sense of gratitude for this kind of grace, one inevitably strives to be a gift to others.

It is a pity that in our days the ‘grace with a costly price’ is not much appreciated. Our pervasively materialistic culture allows it little space; people are assisted in escaping from responsibility and commitment.

In our days the ‘grace with a costly price’ is not much appreciated. Our pervasively materialistic culture allows it little space

Being a fatherless culture, ours is a sad culture, an orphan in many ways. It substitutes authentic freedom, which protects innocence with undisciplined licence, thus lowering in reality people’s dignity. It appears that the West, which over many centuries built a civilisation on the beauty of holiness and the dignity of the human person, has fallen under the enchantment of media-driven ideologies and products to buy.

The lure of quick fixes and immediate gratification has caused our modern culture to tire of shouldering Judeo-Christian principles; glamorous alternatives seem to have exhausted their cycle.

It is the fashion nowadays to find solutions on paper. By so doing, even in the educational field, we pretend to have solved our problems. A psychiatrist determines that his client’s mental state depends on the history of the family, or the excessive intrusion of the mother or due to a weak or authoritarian father. A teacher assures parents that their son is bright but, poor child, he has to make “some effort to start believing in himself”.

And if a teacher dares to caution a child or resort to some discipline for the latter’s benefit, in all probability the parents will come to the defence of the child, saying that he has been warned unjustly. The whole matter may end up in an adversarial relationship, with the teacher being wrongly censored by the parents.

Culture is contagious, and it can sneak nicely even in environments of religious formation where the air of justification is being felt. One refrains from drawing the necessary attention to misdeeds so as not to hurt anyone and does not dare to take measures of discipline. On the excuse of hereditary traits, family background and circumstances, it can end up in mediocre vocations. And we should keep in mind that young people who today are in the process of formation will be our educators in a few years’ time. 

Cheap grace has been tagged as “living room Christianity”, meaning an ineffective, cosy set of niceties: good manners and a feeling-based personal spirituality, flavoured with the search for indulgences to be added to our account in the hypothetical “Bank of Grace”.

Cheap grace is a mix of fruitless holiness and indifference; it is a return to a devotional religiosity which bears little or no relation to generous self-giving to others and where relationships are accidental. Cheap grace promotes educational learning aimed at “me” rather than others, for “me” to be better but not with the scope of being useful to “my brothers” as shown by our all-gracious Lord in the Gospel that we know so well.

It is a Christianity which is separated from the drama of salvation and does not feel the suffering of others. Such a devalued Christianity cannot possibly understand the value of mission nor be open to the responsibility needed to answer the call.

If we lose the radical dimension of Christianity, the culture of taking everything lightly will eventually take over, as if costly grace is optional. In certain circumstances we may find ourselves reasoning: “If you think that there is no harm in this, by all means take the initiative.”

Or: “See what they do and close one eye.” This is how the culture of aesthetics takes the upper hand when religiosity degenerates into a ritual exhibition, appreciated just because things are done in a nice way. This leads to a religiosity of consumption, where everyone is pleased because one pays and gets what he needs. It is a religiosity of spectators at a play which is interpreted by others but does not raise personal enthusiasm. When one becomes used to it, it does not offer interest any more.

Cheap grace is the infantile, indifferent and passive way to follow Christ. There are various forms of escape from responsibility in relation to God, to others and to ourselves. It can be reduced to the logic of ‘use and throw away’, where the sacraments, worship and prayer do not stimulate a missionary conscience.

This “grace with a cheap price” is the infantile, indifferent and passive way of following Christ. It can be reduced to the futility of ‘use and throw away’, where the sacraments, worship and prayer do not stimulate zeal and a missionary conscience.

As individuals and as part of any group, we should reflect on whether we are under the influence of cheap or costly grace. There are many indications by which one may judge whether he has in effect opted for costly grace. Each one of us can reflect how to further qualify for such grace.

 This quote by José Maria Escrivà de Balaguer,canonised in 2002 by Pope John Paul II, may help us in our life’s journey:  “As a Christian, you should always carry your crucifix with you. Place it on your work table. Kiss it before you go to rest and when you wake up. And when your weak body goes against the soul, kiss the crucifix again.”

Joseph Galea is a Member of the Society of Christian Doctrine.

This is a Times of Malta print opinion piece

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