Seeing Common Grace by its (Symbolic) Absence

In Exodus 10, the plagues upon Egypt continue to increase in intensity, moving from a category of severity to extremity. The eighth and ninth plagues symbolically enact a withdrawal of God’s gracious, sustaining presence from the land of Egypt. In the eighth plague of locusts, there is a sense in which the creation narrative of Genesis 1 is symbolically reversed as all the green trees and plants are reduced to brown, barren nubs. After the locusts left, it would not be difficult to make the connection between the formless and void expanse of the earth prior to the days of creation and the devastated land of Egypt. Because God’s Spirit is associated with both creation and the plague of locusts (by means of the “east wind” that brings the locusts into Egypt, since “wind” and “spirit” are the same word in Hebrew), the de-creation of Egypt points towards a withdrawal of God’s gracious, creative, and sustaining presence in judgment against Pharaoh and the so-called gods of Egypt.

This theme of the withdrawal of God’s presence is seen even more clearly in the ninth plague of darkness. When we consider the Scriptural testimony that God is light, an absence of light can symbolically communicate a withdrawal of God’s presence. Because the plague of darkness is described as a darkness to be felt, which extends even to the lights inside the Egyptian houses, this darkness is an oppressive, supernatural phenomenon that all the more clearly points to the withdrawal of God’s gracious, sustaining presence. That the Egyptians were so impacted by this darkness that their whole world stopped for three days just adds to the symbolism. For the remainder of this reflection, I’d like to consider how this plague of darkness supports the idea of God’s common grace by means of the absence of the light of God’s gracious presence.

To begin, it is helpful to lay out a definition of common grace. In general, common grace “is what God offers for the life of the world despite itself.”[1] After the fall of Adam in the garden, God did not apply the full weight of the covenant curse; despite Adam’s rebellion, God showed a kind of grace to the father of humanity in sustaining his life and allowing for the propagation of the human race. After the flood, God again committed to this general kind of grace by promising in his covenant with Noah that seedtime and harvest would continue. What God offers is regularity and rhythm, preservation from another global catastrophe like the flood. And so, humanity continues “to know, to reason, to make, to do, to breathe, to eat, to live. These verbs are shadows of hope. Yet, these shadows are not the product of nature left to itself after the human fall into sin (pure nature).” These shadows of hope, rather, only exist “because of God’s common grace.”[2]

There are boundaries to common grace, though. “The age of common grace begins with the entrance of sin and concludes with the Parousia of Christ. In this age, God gives good gifts to the world to maintain a degree of continuity with the pre-fall life. Common grace is distinguished from special grace, the grace of salvation in Christ, but supports and ultimately serves the work of special grace.”[3] Beyond having a beginning and an end date, common grace also manifests with a variety of degrees of impact at different times and in different places. In the most extreme cases, for example in the ninth plague of darkness and at the cross of Jesus Christ, the gracious, enlightening, sustaining presence of God in this world despite itself is nearly removed. These extreme cases reinforce for us the fact that common grace really is a kind of grace, a favorable disposition of God toward those who don’t deserve it. The reaction of the Egyptians and the cry of dereliction of our savior both testify to the existence and goodness of God’s common grace in light of God’s symbolic absence, the withdrawal of the light of his gracious countenance as experienced through a darkness to be felt.

As far as a takeaway from this reflection is concerned, it is helpful to be reminded that the worst possible day that anyone has ever had in the history of the world (apart from Good Friday!) is still marinated in God’s common grace. It is useful to reflect on God’s general abiding presence as a launching point to reflect on and give him the glory for his special abiding presence with us in Christ through the Holy Spirit.

[1] Cory Brock, “Common Grace,” in T&T Clark Handbook of Neo-Calvinism, ed. Nathaniel Gray Sutano and Cory C. Brock (New York: T&T Clark, 2024), 85.

[2] Brock, “Common Grace,” 86.

[3] Brock, “Common Grace,” 86.