The Unlimited Grace We Often Limit

 There’s a quiet tragedy happening in the church today, and it doesn’t happen in a single dramatic moment. It happens in whispered doubts, in conditional acceptance, in the small ways we domesticate the wild, scandalous love of God.

The Grace We Water Down

How often do we water down the grace of God? More often than we’d like to admit.

We water it down when we add footnotes to forgiveness. “Yes, God forgives… but surely not that  sin.” We dilute it when we create hierarchies of worthiness, placing ourselves just a rung or two above those we deem less deserving. We thin it out when we treat grace like a substance with limited supply, as if God might run out if we’re too generous with others.

The Apostle Paul faced this same temptation in the early church. In Galatians, he confronted believers who wanted to add requirements to grace—circumcision, dietary laws, cultural practices. They couldn’t accept that grace alone was sufficient. He wrote with urgency: “You who are trying to be justified by the law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace” (Galatians 5:4). They felt grace was too simple, too scandalous, too… cheap.

But Paul understood something crucial. He declared, “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9). Grace is free, but it was never cheap. It cost everything.

The Grace We Limit

Perhaps even more concerning is how we limit God’s grace—not in doctrine, but in practice.

We limit it when we believe our past disqualifies us from God’s future. When we carry shame that Christ already carried to the cross. When we live as though we’re on probation rather than fully pardoned. Yet Scripture tells us, “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus”(Romans 8:1). No condemnation. Not “minimal condemnation” or “conditional condemnation”—none.

We limit it when we draw circles around who can be saved, who can be restored, who can be used by God. We appoint ourselves gatekeepers of something that has no gate, only an open door marked by a cross. But Jesus said, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved” (John 10:9). He is the gate, not us.

We limit it when we forget our own stories. When we forget the pit from which we were lifted, we become harsh judges of those still climbing out. Peter reminds us: “But if anyone does not have them, they are nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins” (2 Peter 1:9). Memory loss leads to grace loss.

What Unlimited Grace Actually Looks Like

The grace of God, unleashed and unlimited, is more radical than we’re comfortable with. It pursued Saul the persecutor and made him Paul the apostle. It met the woman at the well in her shame and gave her a testimony. It looked at a thief dying on a cross and promised him paradise that very day.

This grace doesn’t wait for us to clean up first. Paul wrote to the Romans, “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). While we were still. Not after we got better. Not once we proved ourselves worthy. While we were still covered in the mud of our rebellion.

It doesn’t require a certain level of spiritual maturity before it engages. It doesn’t measure our past to determine our access. As the psalmist declared, “As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us” (Psalm 103:12). It simply pours out, lavish and undeserved, meeting us exactly where we are.

The question isn’t whether God’s grace is sufficient for your situation. Paul heard God say, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). The question is whether you’ll believe it is.

Living in the Fullness of Grace

To stop limiting grace means:

Receiving it fully for yourself.Stop living beneath your privileges as a child of God. Stop punishing yourself for sins already forgiven. The gospel isn’t just for your salvation—it’s for your daily freedom. Jesus said, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).

Here’s a truth that transforms everything: when you’re doing things for God from a place of grace rather than striving for His approval, you won’t feel exhausted—you’ll feel rested. There’s a profound difference between the weariness of religious performance and the rest that comes from abiding in His love. One drains you; the other sustains you.

Extending it freely to others. If you’ve truly encountered grace, you become a conduit for it, not a dam holding it back. Your testimony isn’t your perfection; it’s God’s persistence with your imperfection. As Paul wrote, “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God” (Romans 15:7).

Trusting it completely in God’s hands.God is more committed to someone’s transformation than you are. Your job isn’t to limit grace to control outcomes. Your job is to love people the way you’ve been loved and watch what God does.

The Scandal We Must Embrace

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: if your understanding of grace doesn’t occasionally make you uncomfortable, it might not be grace at all—it might be a merit system with Christian vocabulary.

Real grace is scandalous. Jesus told parables that offended the religious: the vineyard owner who gives the same wages to the worker hired at the eleventh hour (Matthew 20:1-16). The father who throws a lavish party for the prodigal while the older brother fumes outside (Luke 15:11-32). The tax collector whose simple prayer—“God, have mercy on me, a sinner”—is exalted over the Pharisee’s impressive resume (Luke 18:9-14).

Jesus Himself said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners”(Mark 2:17). His grace specifically seeks out those we might consider least deserving.

And yes, it meets you in your worst moment and calls you beloved anyway. John reminds us: “See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” (1 John 3:1).

The grace of God is not a theology to defend. It’s a waterfall to stand under, an ocean to swim in, a reality to inhabit. And the more we experience its unlimited nature, the less we’ll be tempted to limit it in others.

So today, stop watering it down. Stop putting conditions on the unconditional. Stop limiting what God has made limitless.

Grace is enough. It always has been. It always will be.

“But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” - Romans 5:20