More than the Worst Thing You Have Done
ICE BREAKER:
What is your favorite real or fictional “second chance” story (movie, TV show, book, etc.)?
REFLECTION:
There’s a line from Rev. Nadia Bolz‑Weber’s blog (Never Forgiving Yourself (isn't a virtue) that lingers long after you read it: so many of us offer grace to others but treat ourselves like garbage—as though our mistakes are the truest thing about us. She tells the story of a woman who, decades after a moment of hesitation on the job, still names that moment as the defining truth of her life. No compassion. No mercy. Just an internal gaze fixed on failure.
Paul knows something about that gaze. In 1 Timothy, he remembers who he used to be—violent, proud, harmful—and he doesn’t minimize any of it. But he also refuses to stay trapped there. “I was shown mercy,” he says. “Our Lord’s favor poured all over me along with the faithfulness and love that are in Christ Jesus.” Grace didn’t erase his past; it reframed it. It told a bigger story.
German Lutheran pastor, theologian, and anti-Nazi dissident Dietrich Bonhoeffer warned the church about cheap grace—grace that asks nothing, costs nothing, transforms nothing. But the grace Paul describes is anything but cheap. It is costly because it tells the truth, names the harm, and refuses denial. And then it does the most radical thing of all: it refuses to let our worst moments have the final word.
Maybe that’s why self‑forgiveness is so hard. It feels like letting ourselves off the hook. But as Bolz‑Weber says, sometimes our refusal to forgive ourselves is not humility—it’s pride. It’s the belief that we should have known better, done better, been better than “ordinary sinners.” As though we are the one person in the universe beyond the reach of mercy.
But grace—real grace—doesn’t coddle us or condemn us. It tells the truth about what we’ve done, and then it tells a deeper truth about who we are: Beloved. Redeemed. More than the subtotal of our mistakes.
So today, hear this good news: You are not the worst thing you’ve ever done. You are not the moment you wish you could take back. You are not the regret you keep revisiting in the dark.
You are someone upon whom Christ’s love has been poured—lavishly, abundantly, undeservedly, beautifully.
And maybe that’s why the image of stained glass speaks so powerfully here. Stained glass is made of pieces that were once broken, sharp, discarded. But in the hands of an artist, those very pieces become something radiant. Light doesn’t avoid the cracks; it pours through them. The beauty isn’t in spite of the brokenness — it’s created through it.
That is what grace does. It gathers the fragments of our lives, tells the truth about every piece, and then holds them together with a love stronger than our shame. When Christ’s mercy shines through us, the world doesn’t see our failures; it sees the pattern grace is making.
May you have the courage to believe that. May you have the humility to receive it. And may you tell a story about who you are that is bigger and more beautiful than your most broken moment.
WRESTLING WITH THE WORD: Read 1 Timothy 1:12-17
- What do you notice about the way Paul speaks about his experience of grace?
- What does this passage say or imply about who can receive God’s grace and how it works in a person’s life?
- The recipient of this letter is Timothy, Paul’s protégé. What effect do you think it would have to hear your mentor speak about himself in this way?
NEXT STEPS:
- Have you ever felt “beyond grace”? Sometimes it is hard to receive or accept the grace offered to us. In what ways might Paul’s story inspire you to live into the grace God offers? What else might help?
- Have you ever felt beyond reproach? Sometimes we can be quick to judge others but seek to protect ourselves from such judgment. How does this passage speak to you in that experience?
- Reflect privately and honestly about who you put into the category of “saint” and “sinner.” If we truly believe that every person is both sinner and, with God’s grace, saint, how might that impact the way we treat one another?
- In what ways does the belief that God is not done with us – that we are all God’s works-in-progress – move you to growth and change? Is there one area of your life where you sense God is calling and working on you to grow in holiness?
PRAY:
God of sinners and saints, thank you that you are not done with us yet. We open ourselves to the ways you will work on us this week and pray that we will get on board with the future you have in store for us. Amen.