In Defense of Too Much Mercy

Luke 24:36b-48

While they were talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, ‘Peace be with you.’

They were startled and terrified, and thought that they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, ‘Why are you frightened, and why do doubts arise in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet; see that it is I myself. Touch me and see; for a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see that I have.’ And when he had said this, he showed them his hands and his feet.

While in their joy they were disbelieving and still wondering, he said to them, ‘Have you anything here to eat?’ They gave him a piece of broiled fish, and he took it and ate in their presence.

Then he said to them, ‘These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the law of Moses, the prophets, and the psalms must be fulfilled.’

Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures, and he said to them, ‘Thus it is written, that the Messiah is to suffer and to rise from the dead on the third day, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.’


We all like mercy, just not too much of it. Lindsay Holifield is a singer/songwriter and artist in Alabama, who struggled severely with anorexia for 14 years. She tells a story of being in a treatment facility for her sixteenth birthday. While other girls gathered for dinners and parties,

Lindsay remembers her charge nurse Lupe bringing her a piece of cake and she sobbed at the thought of such high calorie food entering her body. That was the first birthday she’d spend inpatient at a treatment facility, but not her last.

For nearly a decade and a half, Lindsay couldn’t subdue this self-destructive drive that had taken hold of her. She writes, “I desperately wanted to wake up each day without having to submit afresh to the hellish existence of self-starvation and running till my lungs felt on the verge of collapse. But I felt chained to this destructive cycle deep into my bones, despite my best intentions.”

Many treatment providers, likely friends and family too, lambasted Lindsay for not having enough motivation or courage or strength to overcome the voice inside her that demanded self-destruction. Everyone, from doctors to mental health clinicians, told her that if she wanted to get better, really wanted it, she’d have to try harder, pull herself up by her bootstraps and will her way into recovery. But, as Lindsay explains, “After each attempt under this approach, I would fall flat on my face. The despair of my situation began to swallow me whole: there was no way out, because I could not yell at myself enough to make myself well.”

We are all too familiar with the work harder advice, the tough love attitude, the “you just have to want it more” approach. You’ve likely said and received similar sentiments as Lindsay had. When folks are struggling, sad, or scared for any number of reasons, we find it much easier to say “just get over it”, “work harder”, “stop being so weak, or afraid, or fill in the blank”.To the person with anxiety or mental health problems we say deal with it. Or the one grieving we say “how long”? Or the person in an abusive relationship we say “just leave”. That’s the way of our culture. And sometimes it works, sometimes this does the job we hoped it would and we see results. I’m not discounting that. But many times, like with Lindsay, this strategy fails.

At twenty six, Lindsay sat in a green folding chair on a farm in Nashville, TN. In the folding chair across from her sat a woman who fiercely supported her recovery; but there was no yelling or giving a firm lecture. Alternatively, with tenderness unknown to Lindsay, the woman explained how her struggles made sense in light of her own experiences. “Perhaps,” the woman said gently, “your brain was trying to survive great pain. Perhaps you were simply trying to make the ache go away the best way you knew how.”

And that’s all Lindsay ever needed to hear. The compassion shown her by this woman “broke something open within her”. Everyone else was far too afraid that such softness, such mercy would further enable Lindsay’s self-harm. “But they were wrong” Lindsay wrote, “It is precisely this compassion, [this mercy] that softened my armored heart”.

We all like mercy, just not too much. Too much mercy is a hand out, it’s enabling, it’s embracing excuses. If we are too extravagant with mercy or compassion or understanding,

we think not only do we make people who are weak, weaker, but that the one extending such mercy is weak also. And if there is one thing in our strength obsessed, confidence driven, power hungry world we can’t tolerate, it’s weakness. But here is where Jesus and the Gospel confront us.

The disciples are huddled together at some house in Jerusalem, likely where they’ve been hiding since the crucifixion. Cleopas and an unnamed disciple (maybe his wife) had just arrived telling all the other disciples about their encounter with the risen Jesus on their way to a town called Emmaus. Suddenly, Jesus stands among the disciples, who are startled and terrified, unsure of what’s happening.

And notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t say, “why are you hiding in this house? Get it together! You should be strong and courageous, not sitting here as terrified cowards!”

He doesn’t say “I told you this would happen, why didn’t you listen to me?!”

Instead, he offers them peace. He shows them his hands and his side. He invites them to touch and see that it's truly him. And then just to go the extra step, to show more mercy, to instill just a bit more peace in their troubled hearts, he eats for them, with them (something he had done with them, likely every day for nearly three years). The disciples were told no less than three times that Jesus must suffer, die, and be resurrected.

If there was ever an instance in which Jesus could have berated them, grown impatient with them, it was at this encounter! But he didn’t. He encourages them, helps them understand what all is said in Scripture, and tells them they are still the people who will share with the whole world the repentance and forgiveness that comes only from Jesus.

Throughout this gospel, Jesus does berate and grow impatient with folks, just not the ones you'd expect. Think of the woman who is a sinner and Simon the Pharisee, who couldn’t believe Jesus allowed this woman to touch him. And who does Jesus rebuke? It wasn’t the sinful woman.

I think of Martha who thought she was in the right and wanted Jesus to correct Mary.Or the older brother in the prodigal son and the lavish love, (not a stern rebuke) by the father to the son who squandered his life away.

Jesus is impatient, correcting, condemning even, not to those who are weak, suffering, and longing for relief or forgiveness or to be better. But rather to those who are certain, self-assured, and assume they are right. He rebukes those who are too strict with the law and too stingy with mercy.

So take this gospel as a defense of weakness and mercy. After all, Jesus himself chose to be weak and extended so much mercy for you and for me that it put him to death on a cross.

It's in our weakness that Christ's power is made perfect, demonstrating that true strength is found not in willpower or self assurance or tough love,

but in dependence on a savior crucified and risen.

Recovery for Lindsay did not come quickly. But she attributes the lavish compassion extended to her by that woman on the farm in Nashville for radically changing her life.

It was mercy that quieted the voice of condemnation and slowly turned her from self-destruction to life.

So for our worry about too much mercy, Lindsay proclaims,

“I am a living testament that compassion is what softens hearts of stone, armored up by self-protection... I would have died many times over save for the compassion that chased me down and embraced me, and being held in such tender kindness was the only thing that could have changed my fate. I believe this for mental health, yes, but more importantly, I believe this for the rescue of all of humanity. The grace of God is the sole agent of resurrection and change.”

This post resurrection appearance reveals that Christ stands among the weak and brokenhearted, the joyful yet doubting, the hurting and fearful offering mercy, comfort, and hope just as he did with his first disciples.

To be clear, the goal is to not remain weak or hurting; doubting or afraid. Jesus visited the disciples not to perpetuate their fears and doubts but to help them grow in fearlessness and faith. And he did this through mercy and grace, just as he does today for you and me.

May we embody this Gospel and never be afraid of too much mercy. For in our weakness God’s strength and mercy shines through. Amen.

Post-Easter Discipleship

Acts 4:32-35

Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need.

John 20:19-31

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors on the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” When he said this, he showed them his hands and his sides, and the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. He said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so now I send you.” And after he said this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven them. If you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

Now, Thomas (who was called “the Twin”) one of the twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus appeared. So the disciples said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” But Thomas said to them, “Unless I see the marks of the nails in his hands, and put my fingers in the marks of the nails, and my hands in his side, I will not believe.”

A week later, the disciples were again in the house and this time, Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your fingers here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt, but believe.” Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” And Jesus said to him, “Do you believe because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”

Now, Jesus did many other signs which are not written in this book, but these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you might have life in his name.


If I were to meet Thomas today, I would ask him, which would have been harder for him to believe: What we heard about in this Gospel reading from John or what took place in that reading, later in Acts, Chapter 4.

In John’s Gospel, immediately following Easter’s resurrection, we hear the familiar story about the unfairly infamous “Doubting Thomas” with all of that heavy breathing, behind the locked doors of that hideout of a house. There are Jesus’ holey hands and scarred sides. There are those commands to be sent into the world with the authority to forgive the sins of others, at their discretion. And there’s that invitation to “not doubt, but believe.” That’s a whole lot of hard, holy stuff to take in, to buy, and to make sense of.

But it’s at least as easy to believe, if you ask me, as what happens later in Acts. Did you hear it? Were you paying attention? Did you consider it with at least as much seriousness as Easter’s good news and Thomas’ doubts?

First, it’s worth knowing that “the whole group who believed” as we hear about in Acts, was bigger than just the handful of disciples who saw Jesus in that house with Thomas on Easter Sunday. By the time we get to that Acts reading, thousands had been baptized and had come to believe; believers and followers were being added to the mix every day. And this is what we’re told:

- The whole group of those thousands who believed were of one heart and soul. (How could that be?)

- And not one of them claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. (Can you imagine?)

- There was not a needy person among them, as the story goes. They sold their land and houses, and laid the proceeds of it at the feet of the apostles’ to be handed out, as any had need, no strings attached. (Call me “Thomas.” I’d need to see it, for myself, to believe it.)

Because that sounds like a cult to me. Or socialism, God forbid. Nothing most of us – and the culture surrounding us – are willing to believe or buy into, practice or propagate as faithful capitalists. But there it is, in black and white, lifted up as a model for faithful living, right there in the Word of God.

And it makes me wonder if people in the world might have an easier time believing the former – the Gospel good news that the love of God, in Jesus, was more powerful, even, than death – if they could see and experience the latter, from his followers like you and me – that kind of radical, selfless, sacrificial, generosity – I mean. And that’s a question we’re called to ponder, still.

We were blessed enough to have celebrated a couple of baptisms the last couple of weeks here, in worship – one, each, on Palm Sunday and Easter Sunday, too. Depending on which service you attended, you may or may not have known that. And, as is customary at Cross of Grace, especially when the family of the baptized and/or a sanctuary full of people who don’t usually attend Cross of Grace – or church, generally, for that matter, as is customary on a typical Easter Sunday – we make a deliberate effort at explaining ourselves.

What I mean is, we baptize at the back, by the door. We move the baptismal bowl. We encourage everyone to stand and turn to see it. And we explain our reasoning for that is two-fold. First, because baptism is a sign of our invitation, welcome and entry to the Church on this side of heaven. And it’s also a sign of our promised welcome into God’s heaven, on the other side of eternity. Hence, the doors.

And the second reason we turn our attention to the back, is to show that the kind of grace we celebrate, pour out, and promise to one another by way of Holy Baptism, is meant to turn us around, quite literally, in as many ways as we’ll allow that to happen. It’s meant to change us, utterly. God’s love is meant to inspire and transform the way we live and move and breathe in the world – here and now, on this side of heaven, in great gratitude for God’s love in our lives and for the sake of the world.

That’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in that room with Thomas and those first disciples – everything was changed and changing. And that’s what the good news of Easter’s grace and love and new life was doing in the lives of those followers in Acts, just the same – everything was changed and changing, still, for those who wanted in on the action, too.

They were so captivated by who they now knew Jesus to be – the Messiah, the Son of God – that they let that good news have its way with every part of their life, as individuals and as a community of faith. They devoted themselves to each other in prayer, fellowship, teaching, worship … and in sharing their money for the good of the cause, too.

Several weeks ago, before we got knee deep into the season of Lent, in preparation for Easter, we engaged some wonderful Holy Conversations as a congregation. Those conversations were about a lot of things – what we’ve been up to as a family of faith, what we hope to see happen around here in the future, and how we plan to make that happen. And we have some big dreams brewing among us. We heard about building projects, expanding our food pantry ministry, growing our influence in social justice efforts, adding programming for kids and youth, and more.

And we’d like to continue those conversations now that we’ve made it to the other side of Easter. Not in the same way. We won’t be hosting special events, happy hours, or luncheons and whatnot, like we did for those Holy Conversations. But we’re gearing up to make our General Fund financial commitments in early May, and we want to pray and prepare for that in the context of worship, learning, and service on the other side of the empty tomb – like Thomas and the first disciples; like the apostles and the throngs of the faithful, changed by Easter’s good news and wanting to change the world with the same kind of grace, generosity, love, mercy and forgiveness they had experienced, in Jesus.

That’s God’s call and my hope for all of us, every day that we live on the other side of Easter – that we’ll be so captivated by the grace and blessing of God’s love for the world, that we’ll return the favor as much as we’re able by sharing ourselves and our resources for the sake of what’s so unique about the ministry we share in this place, for the sake of the communities we serve.

And our ministry is uniquely beautiful as far as churches go in our community. I’m talking about our wide, sincere welcome of all people – and especially the LGBTQ neighbors among us. And I’m talking about our food pantry, our teaching about and our doing of justice for those others ignore, and our generosity when we get it right. (We have 25 grant applications to review for the $50,000 we get to give away from our Building and Outreach Fund.)

After that baptism on Palm Sunday, one of the family members of the newly baptized little boy came looking for me to very deliberately thank me for whatever I had preached that day and, generally, for the spirit of welcome and grace and whatever else he felt by being here. He lives out west, so won’t be back anytime soon, but he could see and feel something different about this placed than is true in so many other churches out there in the world. You all deserve to know that just as much as I do.

Like Thomas, sometimes you just have to see and experience it to believe it. So, I’m praying we’re all paying attention. And, like the early Church in Acts – growing and giving and sharing their resources and themselves – I’m hopeful we’ll all get in on the action in the days ahead, because I know others will be drawn to and inspired by what we’re up to when they see and experience the kind of grace we proclaim, right along with us, just the same.

Amen