It was an ordinary evening when something unexpected happened. My young nephew, from a decidedly non-religious household, sitting across from me at the dinner table, decided to offer grace before we began our meal. His words were simple, expressing gratitude for the food we were about to eat. In that moment, he was like an Athenian on Mars Hill, offering thanks to the unknown God, just as those ancient seekers in Acts stood before Paul, giving voice to a reverence they did not fully understand (Acts 17:23). His gratitude, though anonymous, resonated with a truth that has echoed through time—a truth that sparked within me a reflection on grace, thanksgiving, and the divine cycles that sustain our lives.
As we continued our meal, I shared with my family a thought that had struck me: the fascinating etymological relationship between the word grace as a gift and the Spanish word gracias as "thank you." This connection led to a discussion about how the natural cycle of water—falling from heaven, quenching the earth, and then returning to the sky—can be seen as a reflection of God's grace. Just as the rain nourishes the earth and eventually returns to the heavens, so does God's grace come down to us, nourishing our souls and returning to Him in the form of thanksgiving.
This discussion illuminated the way God’s grace was modeled at that very dinner table. We had gathered together, not just to eat, but to partake in the blessings that God had provided. After the meal, we all ironically gave thanks to my natural father for the meal he had lovingly prepared and provided. This act of gratitude perfectly parallels the gracias we offer back to our Heavenly Father, who showers us with favor and gifts, blessing both the just and the unjust (Matthew 5:45). As Hebrews 13:15 reminds us, we are called to continually offer to God the sacrifice of praise, the fruit of lips that openly profess His name. The picture is powerful: just as we thanked my father for his provision, we are called to continually offer our thanks and praise to our Heavenly Father.
In a way, my nephew, like the Athenians of old, was expressing worship—albeit anonymously—toward the same unknown God. Today, many people do the same, offering their reverence not directly to God, but to His creation, often in the name of the universe. The universe has become, for many, a kind of idol, a mediator between the Creator and His image bearers who have gone AWOL and often unknowingly. Like the Athenians who constructed altars to gods they did not fully know, people today often direct their gratitude and worship toward what they can see and experience, rather than to the One who made it all. Yet, as Paul revealed to the Athenians, this unknown God is not far from each one of us, for "in Him we live and move and have our being" (Acts 17:28). Indeed, "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen" (Romans 11:36).
This verse, Romans 11:36, serves as the proof text for understanding the divine cycle of grace. Everything begins with God—His grace flows from Him as He gives gifts and blessings to all creation. Through Him, we receive life, sustenance, and spiritual growth, just as plants receive sunlight and water. The Word of God is likened to both water and light, essential elements for growth. Psalm 1 compares the one who meditates on God’s Word to a tree planted by streams of water, flourishing in every season. Similarly, Jesus, full of grace and truth, declares Himself as the Light of the world (John 8:12), guiding us in darkness and nurturing our spiritual life. And to Him, all things ultimately return, as we offer our praise and thanksgiving, completing the cycle. This divine exchange mirrors the cycle of nature, where plants absorb sunlight and water, converting them into life-sustaining energy—a process we know as photosynthesis.
As we meditate on the Word—abiding in it and praying in the Spirit—we are nourished and strengthened, much like trees and branches deeply rooted in rich soil. This abiding is not passive; it is a dynamic, life-giving connection that allows His grace to flow through us, enabling us to grow, bear fruit, and ultimately glorify God. The Word, as both water and light, transforms us into God’s garden, a place of life, beauty, and fruitfulness. As Paul spoke to the Ephesian elders in Acts 20:32, he commended them "to God and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up." This grace, which begins and ends with God, sustains us in our spiritual growth, just as the Word sustains us, nourishing and guiding us to maturity in Christ.
As we reflected on our meal, I realized that our act of giving thanks was more than just a tradition; it was a participation in this divine cycle. God's grace had been poured out on us, and in response, we lifted our hearts in gracias, completing the circle of blessing. This cycle is not just a poetic metaphor but a reflection of how God interacts with His creation—He gives, and we receive with thankful hearts, returning our thanks to Him in worship and obedience. All things truly are from Him, through Him, and to Him; and as we live in this cycle, we join in glorifying the One to whom all glory is due.
In the days that followed, I couldn’t help but think about how this experience at the dinner table had deepened my understanding of grace. It reminded me that every good and perfect gift comes from above, from the Father of lights, who does not change like shifting shadows (James 1:17). And just as the rain returns to the heavens after nourishing the earth, so too does our thanksgiving rise to God, completing the cycle of grace.
In this chapter, I invite you to consider how grace operates in your life—how it is given, received, and returned. Let us remember that grace is not just a theological concept but a lived reality, a cycle that we participate in every time we acknowledge God's goodness and offer our thanks. And as we do, let us be mindful of the light that shines on us, guiding us in our journey and reminding us that all we have is a gift from the Giver of all good things.
NOTES:
[^1]: The author is aware of James Sire's concept of scripture twisting and acknowledges the temptation to see Christ in everything. However, this perspective is embraced here, as it aligns with the belief that all Scripture testifies to Christ, as expressed in Luke 24:44.
[^2]: The author is aware that the concept of the "Sun of Righteousness" has origins in ancient Persian religion, particularly Zoroastrianism, where the sun symbolized divine justice and righteousness. However, it is important to understand that God often uses familiar cultural symbols and language to communicate His eternal truths. As Paul explains in 1 Corinthians 2:14-15, the Holy Spirit reveals the deeper spiritual significance of these symbols to the "spiritual man," allowing us to see how these ancient symbols point to Christ and His redemptive work.