When evidence of the Word of God spanning generational gaps manifests, we should be reminded that it also circumvents cultural movements and institutional policy. Religion reporter Joe Toly was rightly drawn to a simple phrase, “cheap grace,” which he aptly related to Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s “costly grace.” In his article, Calvin University and the cost of discipleship, published in the Chimes on Oct. 6, 2025, Toly writes, “Many want a grace that affirms rather than reforms, a grace that comforts without correction, a grace that celebrates our desires — however questionable they may be.” Some will argue that grace is to meet others where they are; however, if grace continues to meet people in the same place, time-after-time, then it lacks a key ingredient — hope — because it never reforms the person’s thinking, speaking or acting.

As such, hope is an active change mechanism which undergirds grace to span demarcations. For instance, as a carceral learner I recognize the appeal of Karl Barth’s sermons delivered to prisoners in Basil, Switzerland from Aug.1, 1954 to June 14, 1959. His book, Deliverance to the Captives, published in 1978, records some of the messages he preached while ministering to the captives. Each of those sermons were infused with a hope of deliverance to those who were most eager to receive it. If we were to weigh the hope from Barth’s messages, alongside Bonhoeffer’s message on grace, the scales of morality would register a balance. For example, Calvin University expanding into the sphere of corrections through the Calvin Prison Initiative (CPI) shows every student unbelievable grace, with the hope that such grace results in a reformed person — reformed in thinking, speaking and acting.

I have been incarcerated for more than 28 years. Many times I have been given messages of hope from either the appeals court overturning my conviction, through legislative murmurings or even thoughts of receiving a commutation, yet at every turn those flickers of hope have been snuffed out. However, during those fleeting moments of wanton hope, I recognize that how I reacted to conflict was altered by the hope of deliverance that may be on the horizon.

For instance, I reflect with more positivity during those moments. Additionally, hope of deliverance has created space for more felicitous moments to be shared more robustly. The message Barth delivers to the captives details how humanity is still undefeated in a long history of warring ideologies, oppression and abuse of our limited authority. In fact, humanity is a transcendental testimony of perseverance. Even so, incarceration can have debilitating effects when there is an absence of hope. It feels like watching a church set ablaze with no means of halting its deterioration; so too is a prisoner’s soul during oppressive incarceration. Many visitors to correctional facilities have commented on how they have met some extremely intelligent and creative people who are incarcerated. However, one juxtaposition with our creativity and intelligence is how each of us uses our gifts. Some of us will use these gifts to mature out of criminality, while others will use these gifts to evolve criminally. Hope is the catalyst for the former, while despair accelerates the latter. Hence, for five years Karl Barth reinvigorated a captive audience with messages of hope.

Maya Angelou once stated in an interview, “One of the hardest things for a person to do is to live what they teach.” Jesus lived what he taught. So while the Bible, to some, may not be a revelation in itself, it is a visage of God. As such a visage, the revealed truth of God’s Word reveals hope at nearly every turning of the page. Once planted in our soul, God’s Word springs forth a vine of hope that reaches into every aspect of humanity. Barth, reflecting this visage of God, reached into the depths of depravity in order to sow seed; Barth lived the truth about hope and allowed it to bloom — yes, even in the depths of despair.

Viewing incarceration through a Christian lens, we see that where there is a lack of hope, there is also a lack of humanity. If there is a lack of humanity, what follows is a systematic collapse of good moral reason along with a dereliction of civic responsibility. While not dismissing the evil perpetrated by those who are incarcerated, Barth would condemn the institution’s policy today for its failing to love and restore one’s neighbor. Additionally, Barth would argue that “Jesus is the social movement for social justice,” as he proclaimed in a lecture given in 1911. Further, if Jesus ushered in this social movement to love and restore our neighbors, this is still relevant today. The means by how we recognize it can be shrouded in controversy, or worse, ignored even when it is a glaring beam.

“Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word. It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes.” – Psalms 119:67, 71 (ESV). 

The Psalmist recognizes the essence of hope infused by the very Word of God. The order of events is that the Psalmist went astray, was then afflicted, and yet received hope. This entire sequence is grace because it resulted in the Psalmist recognizing the good in being afflicted in order to learn of God’s hope-infused Word. Additionally, it was the catalyst for reforming and keeping God’s Word. Moreover, the affliction ends. This ancient psalm is a social justice statement. Yes, correction is necessary. Yes, correction is good. But if the goal of the correction does not result in learning, then the way we are correcting must be reimagined, reshaped and inspired by this Psalmist’s reformation. This is how we are good stewards of our gifts — transforming our brokenness into God’s glory!