The Difference Between Grace and Guilt

The last thing I searched for was an article called “The Broken Grace of Leonard Cohen.” I was thinking about Cohen’s views about God after a funny mix-up in conversation. Someone said that “Into My Arms”—the song about an “Interventionist God”—was Leonard Cohen’s. It isn’t. It belongs to Nick Cave. And while it mentions God, it’s not about God—it’s a love song, soaked in loss and longing. That little mistake sent me digging into Cohen and Cave side by side, and before long I was imagining them actually talking to each other about the difference between grace and guilt. Out of that came a poem.

Leonard Cohen:
“I am religious in that I know the difference between grace and guilt.”

Nick Cave:
“The need to make amends, to seek forgiveness  and absolution,
is a human impulse that religion helps make sense of.”

Let’s Talk About Grace and Guilt

Cohen said —
grace is cracked,
it slips through the broken places
and still shines.

Cave said —
but guilt,
guilt is the weight
that drags you down
before you can even stand.

Cohen said —
grace doesn’t erase the wound,
it lets the wound glow
like stained glass.

Cave said —
guilt keeps the wound open,
makes you trace it,
again and again.

they laughed,
because no one agrees
if guilt is useful —
whether it’s the teacher,
or just the gaoler.

Cohen leaned back —
like a rabbi still testing a prayer —
and said,
“grace is the unearned ‘yes.’
the voice that says,
even you.”

Cave thought about the liturgy,
about confession mumbled
by a whole room of people,
and how sometimes
hearing the words together
turns shame into song.

maybe grace and guilt
are not opposites,
but partners in the dance —
guilt brings us low,
grace lifts us up.

Cohen said —
grace breaks the chain.

Cave said —
guilt makes you notice the chain.

Cohen said —
grace has the last word.

Cave said —
and until then,
we live in the middle.

they sat quiet for a while,
like men who knew
the middle was long.

then Cohen smiled —
“grace doesn’t cancel guilt.
it carries it.”

Cave nodded —
“and maybe guilt
doesn’t end the song.
it makes the song ache
for more.”

Cohen said —
“grace makes the ache holy.”

Cave said —
“grace makes the ache bearable.”

and maybe —
between grace and guilt,
between fracture and glow,
between silence and song —
we learn to walk,
to fall,
to rise again.