14. What Is Grace?
What Is Grace?
A ll the blessings God gives us in Christ—the benefits Jesus purchased and the Holy Spirit applies—can be summed up in one word: grace.
But this word can mean different things, so it's important to be clear.
First, grace refers to God's undeserved favor, especially shown to sinners. It's the kindness He freely gives—not because we've earned it, but because He is merciful. This is the heart of the gospel.
Grace can also describe the many blessings—both physical and spiritual —that come from God's hand. These are often called "gifts of grace" (see
Rom. 5:20; Eph. 2:5, 8). In another sense, "grace" can refer to a person's inner beauty or charm. And finally, in some languages, the word also means thankfulness—as in giving thanks for a gift.
But here, when we talk about grace in salvation, we're focusing on something specific: the inner, spiritual gifts the Holy Spirit gives to sinners to bring them into fellowship with God. We're not talking about God's general kindness to all people (like sunshine and rain), or the
miraculous gifts He gives for serving others. We're talking about the saving grace that is offered in the gospel and powerfully applied to God's elect.
Grace According to Rome vs. the Reformation At this point, it's helpful to understand a key difference between Roman
Catholic teaching and the view held by the Reformers—especially in the Reformed tradition.
In Catholic theology, grace is seen as something that makes people pleasing to God. It is categorized in two ways:
1. Actual grace – Help God gives to move someone toward salvation.
2. Habitual (or sanctifying) grace – A lasting state in which a person is made holy and acceptable to God.
In their view, people—though still capable of doing good in a natural sense—cannot do anything truly pleasing to God or worthy of eternal life unless they first receive this supernatural grace. In other words, they must be lifted beyond their natural state by an extra spiritual gift to even begin walking toward salvation. For Catholics, grace is not primarily a remedy for sin but a necessary addition to our nature to raise us to a supernatural level.
To their credit, Rome does reject Pelagianism—the idea that people can save themselves without divine help. But the way they define grace makes it something everyone receives, even those who ultimately reject it. They say that actual grace is given to all people: to infants who die unbaptized, to non-Christians, to hardened sinners, to everyone. However, since not all are
saved, they conclude that grace is always resistible—God offers, but it's up to us to accept or reject it.
In this view, grace is seen as sufficient, but whether it works depends on the human will. Some Catholic thinkers, like the Molinists and Congruists, have tried to explain this mystery in detail. But even they eventually admit it remains a profound paradox.
Yet, at the same time, many Catholic theologians—especially those influenced by Augustine and Thomas Aquinas—still affirm that God ultimately predestines some to grace and glory apart from any foreseen merit. This shows how deep the tension is in their system: grace is both a gift from God and something that depends on us.
A key difference between the Roman Catholic Church and the Reformation lies in how they understand the very nature of grace.
Rome's View: Grace Elevates Nature In Catholic theology, grace is not thought of as a substance, but rather as a quality—a kind of spiritual enhancement that God gives to people. It doesn't mean God and humanity are mingled into one (as in pantheism), but grace is still seen as something that lifts human beings above their natural limits.
Catholic theologians describe actual grace as God's help that enables people to perform good works, and habitual grace as an ongoing quality that makes people pleasing to God. This habitual grace, they say, transforms the soul by giving it a divine brightness or beauty, almost like light shining from within. It's more than just an improvement of behavior; it's seen as a change in the soul's very essence, allowing people to enter into a higher, supernatural order.
At its core, this grace makes a person a "partaker of the divine nature"
(2 Pet. 1:4). It's believed to lift humans not just above human nature, but even beyond angels—above all created things, actual or possible. Though it doesn't make someone divine, it brings them as close as possible to the divine realm. According to this view, grace serves two purposes: it elevates and it heals, but the focus is clearly on the elevation—on raising human beings above their natural state into union with God. Forgiveness of sin, faith, and healing are treated as secondary. The main goal is to climb up into the divine.
The Reformation's View: Grace Restores, Not Elevates The Reformers firmly rejected this mystical, Neoplatonic view. They returned to the plain teaching of Scripture and came to a very different conclusion: grace does not elevate us beyond our nature—it restores us to what we were created to be. Grace is not given to raise us into a new supernatural order, but to free us from the guilt and power of sin. Grace is opposed not to nature, but to sin.
Adam, before the fall, didn't need this kind of grace to be righteous.
Grace became necessary only because of sin. So grace isn't something added to our human nature—it is God's mercy acting to forgive, cleanse, and renew what sin has broken. Once sin is removed, we naturally become what we were meant to be—God's image-bearers. The image of God isn't something extra added to us; it's part of who we are.
Of course, the grace we receive in Christ restores more than what we lost in Adam. Christ didn't just give us the chance to obey and live; he obeyed perfectly in our place. He not only secured the possibility of life but the guarantee of eternal life that cannot be lost. Adam could fall, but Christ gives his people a salvation that cannot be taken away.
So, even though grace does lift us to eternal life, it doesn't do so by giving us something foreign to our nature. It brings us to the very end that God originally intended for Adam. The covenant of grace and the covenant of works share the same final goal: life with God. The difference is not the destination, but the road—Adam's road was obedience; ours is grace through Christ.
Grace: Not a Substance, But the Power of God to Restore In Reformation theology, grace is never understood as a substance— something you can possess or absorb like a spiritual fluid. While the Reformers did affirm that grace works deeply within us—not just externally but also internally—they gave the word a very different meaning than the Roman Catholic Church.
Rome teaches that grace must elevate human nature into a supernatural realm, giving people new powers they otherwise don't have. That's why, in their view, grace must be more than moral influence—it must be a "physical" or essential power added to human nature. But this assumes that humanity's greatest problem is a lack of supernatural ability, rather than the guilt and corruption of sin.
The Reformation takes a different path. Sin, according to Scripture, is not just a weakness—it's spiritual death. It's not simply that we lack power, but that our minds are darkened, and our wills are turned away from God.
Because of this, grace must do more than instruct; it must awaken, enlighten, and transform. But unlike Rome, the Reformers didn't see this work as "physical" in the sense of adding a new kind of power. Instead, they saw it as spiritual and moral—grace works in the heart and mind to restore what sin destroyed.
When the Reformers described this as "supernatural," they meant that grace comes from above, from God, not that it adds something foreign to our nature. Grace restores the original power to love and obey God that humanity lost through the fall. It does not add something completely new to our being. The problem is not that we're missing some divine layer—we are sinners in need of forgiveness and renewal.
Rome views grace as giving people the ability to reach beyond themselves —to do things they were never meant to do by nature, like earning eternal life. But in the Reformed view, grace is not about elevating us beyond our nature; it's about restoring us to what we were created to be: holy, upright, and in communion with God.
Grace Is a Re-Forming, Not a Re-Creation Grace, then, is not a new creation, nor does it introduce anything foreign to us. It's not a substance added to the soul like a divine vitamin. Rather, it is God's power to re-form us—to reshape us according to the image in which we were originally made. Sin has polluted every part of who we are
—our minds, our hearts, our wills. And so grace must reach into every part as well, bringing new life, cleansing, and renewal.
This is where Reformed theology finds its strength: grace does not depend on us. Rome insists grace is necessary, but in the end, it says that grace can do nothing unless our will agrees. And even then, grace mostly serves to give us the power to earn the next grace, and eventually, eternal life. Grace becomes a helper on the road to self-earned godliness.
But the Reformation declares something much more freeing: grace is all from God—beginning to end. It is God who calls, God who regenerates,
God who justifies, sanctifies, and glorifies. Grace doesn't aid us in saving ourselves; grace saves us. It's not our ladder to climb into heaven—it's
God's hand reaching down into our spiritual death, raising us up to life in Christ.
As Scripture says, "From him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever. Amen" (Romans 11:36).
The Benefits of Grace Grace is a rich and all-encompassing gift. Under this single word,
Scripture gathers countless blessings—blessings Christ secured through His death and resurrection, and which the Holy Spirit now applies to His people. The Bible speaks of these benefits in many ways, overflowing with promises of forgiveness, renewal, and eternal life.
Because the blessings of grace are so abundant, theologians throughout history have wrestled with how to organize and explain them clearly. In Roman Catholic theology, grace is often categorized under three types: actual grace (God's help in specific moments), habitual grace (a kind of spiritual quality or disposition), and the fruits of grace (the outcomes seen in a person's life). In that system, grace flows primarily through the church's sacraments, administered by priests. The church is seen as the channel of grace, and the sacraments as its delivery method.
But the Reformation took a different approach.
Rather than beginning with the institutional church and the sacraments, the Reformers started with the work of the Holy Spirit in the heart of the believer. The focus shifted from the external structure of the church to the internal renewal of the sinner. Grace was no longer viewed as a substance dispensed by the church but as the personal, powerful action of the Holy
Spirit applying the finished work of Christ to His people.
The Reformers saw grace not as something stored in the church, but as God's active presence—regenerating the heart, drawing sinners to faith, and shaping them in holiness. So instead of dividing grace into categories tied to sacramental acts, they spoke of grace in terms of the believer's experience of salvation: repentance, faith, and good works. Over time, especially in Reformed theology, this view developed further into what we now call the order of salvation (ordo salutis)—the sequence of how God applies the benefits of redemption to His elect.
The Role of the Word and Spirit Within this order of salvation, one theme stands out: everything begins with God's call. Just as God created the world by His Word, so too He recreates fallen sinners by that same Word. God calls people out of darkness into light through the preaching of the gospel.
This divine calling has two sides. There is the external call—the outward proclamation of the Word. But there is also the internal call—the sovereign work of the Holy Spirit, who awakens the heart and causes a person to respond in faith. While both are essential, it is the inward call of the Spirit that brings about true transformation.
Reformed theology insists that the Spirit works through the Word, but also that He does more than simply inform the mind. He directly enters the soul, regenerates the will, and makes the sinner willing and able to believe. This regeneration is not a cooperative act; it is God's sovereign work. The Spirit does not wait for human permission. He moves in power, bringing life where there was only death.
This view stood firmly against both the Anabaptists, who separated the Spirit's work from the Word altogether, and the Remonstrants (or Arminians), who claimed the Spirit only offered grace but did not ensure
salvation unless the person accepted it. Reformed theology teaches that the Holy Spirit's work is irresistible and effective—He does not merely offer new life; He gives it.
A Work of God from Start to Finish So, from the very first moment of spiritual awakening to the final breath of faithfulness, the benefits of grace are all the work of God. They are rooted in Christ, applied by the Spirit, and received through faith. God's grace is not an abstract power or religious tool—it is His love in action, reaching sinners, reviving them, and leading them home.
The Reformed tradition teaches that this work begins not with the church or the sacraments, but with God Himself—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit— who in mercy planned, accomplished, and now applies salvation to His people. And this salvation is not offered randomly, but is given effectually to the elect, as part of the unbreakable covenant of grace that spans generations.
The Beginning of Salvation: Regeneration and Faith Theologians have long debated how to describe the first work of the Holy
Spirit in a sinner's heart. Influenced by Martin Luther's experience, many initially spoke of repentance as the beginning of salvation, followed by faith and good works. But they soon realized that not every believer goes through the same emotional experience of repentance—especially not covenant children, who grow up in the faith.
Furthermore, as both Luther and Calvin pointed out, there's a difference between worldly sorrow, which can be felt by anyone (even the unconverted), and godly sorrow, which comes from true faith and new life in Christ. Because of the misunderstandings tied to the word repentance— which in Roman Catholicism had come to imply a punishment paid through
penance—the Reformed began using a different term: resipiscentia, which literally means "coming to one's senses." This shift led to two important changes: