The longer I live, the more I depend upon grace in order to continue. The word grace, for me, has become a philosophical/theological concept that powers my understanding of reality. Once one recognizes their vulnerable condition that they are incipient, the hope embedded within the concept of grace become preeminent. On a macro level, this is what gives me the ultimate confidence in divine revelation. I have no confidence in myself, or my understanding to discern it.
I do have hope that a good God will communicate to me in such a way as I’ll be able to understand. I have hope that my hope, and that all that I suppose is drenched in grace. If I am wrong, then grace can make a way for me. I think that depth in theology and philosophy leads to a state of utter poverty. Grace becomes all that one has left. It powers hope, but it also positions hope within a benign infinite loop. At the least, I may hope for hope. I cannot find; I am lost, but I may yet be found.
