A modern parable: At a parochial middle school, a boy stands with back arched and hands clenched. "Go ahead, give it to me," he says.

The principal asks, "How many times have you been to my office?"

The boy says, "Not enough, I guess."

"You've gotten the belt each time."

"Yeah, and I can take whatever you dish out."

The principal pauses for a moment to think and then quietly says, "Today you learn about grace."

The boy asks, "You gonna let me walk?"

The principal replies, "Yes, I'm going to let you walk."

The boy studies the face of the principal. "No punishment at all?"

"Oh, there has to be punishment," says the principal. "What you did was wrong, and there are always consequences to our actions."

"I knew it," says the boy as he holds out his hands. "Go ahead."

The principal takes hold of a belt, folds it in two, and then hands it to the boy's teacher. He tells the boy, "I want you to count the blows." The principal then extends his own hands toward the teacher and says, "Ten strokes." The belt snaps across the outstretched hands of the principal. Shock registers on the boy's face. By the fourth stroke, tears well up in the boy's eyes. "Stop! That's enough!" the boy yells.

But the belt continues to crack across the principal's hands. The boy counts out loud, "Five…six…seven…eight…nine…ten." The principal stands with sweat glistening on his forehead, his hands swollen and red. He reaches over, puts his swollen hand on the shoulder of the boy, and says just one word: "Grace."