Dane C. Ortlund

God's Richness in Mercy

Ortlund emphasizes that God's mercy is not a limited resource but an abundant, overflowing attribute of His nature. This richness in mercy is unique to God, as the Bible does not describe Him as rich in anything else. 'God is not poor in mercy. He is rich in mercy.' This means that God's mercy is intrinsic to His being, and He delights in showing mercy to His people. The author uses the example of Thomas Goodwin's extensive sermons on Ephesians 2:4 to illustrate how deeply this concept is rooted in Christian theology.

Christ's Dual Role: Intercessor and Advocate

The book delves into the nuanced difference between Christ's roles as an intercessor and an advocate. Hebrews 7:25 highlights that Christ 'always lives to make intercession for us,' indicating a continuous action due to our general sinfulness. In contrast, 1 John 2:1 states, 'If anyone does sin, we have an advocate,' suggesting that advocacy is a specific response to particular sins. This distinction underscores Christ's perpetual intercession and his situational advocacy. 'Christ, as Priest, continually intercedes; Christ, as Advocate, in case of great transgressions, pleads.'

God's Asymmetrical Mercy and Justice

The book emphasizes the asymmetry between God's mercy and justice, highlighting that while generational sins may affect up to the third or fourth generation, God's covenant love extends to a thousand generations. This disproportionate emphasis on mercy over justice is a central theme. 'His covenant love flows down to a thousand generations; but he visits generational sins to the third or fourth generation.' This idea is illustrated through the comparison of God's self-revelation in Exodus 34:6-7, where mercy and love are prominent, and retributive justice is mentioned almost as an afterthought.

Embrace Your Burdens

Understand that your burdens and weariness qualify you to come to Jesus. You don't need to unburden yourself before approaching him; he invites you to come as you are.

Reflect on Christ’s Heart

Spend time in quiet reflection, considering the beauty and love in Christ's heart. This can deepen your relationship with Him and strengthen your faith.

Trust in Jesus' Gentle Nature

No matter the severity of your sins, trust that Jesus will deal with you gently. His natural disposition is one of tenderness and restraint, so you can come to Him without fear of harsh judgment.

Reframe Your View of Jesus

Challenge your misconceptions about Jesus' disposition. Remember that his holiness includes his perfect gentleness and that he is eager to embrace you, not repelled by your imperfections.

The posture most natural to him is not a pointed finger but open arms.

Your very burden is what qualifies you to come.

Gentleness is who he is. It is his heart. He can’t un-gentle himself toward his own any more than you or I can change our eye color.

What he is, he does. He cannot act any other way. His life proves his heart.

The wrath of Christ and the mercy of Christ are not at odds with one another... The more robust one’s felt understanding of the just wrath of Christ... the more robust our felt understanding of his mercy.

Christ’s 'own joy, comfort, happiness, and glory are increased and enlarged by his showing grace and mercy, in pardoning, relieving, and comforting his members here on earth.

When you come to Christ for mercy and love and help in your anguish and perplexity and sinfulness, you are going with the flow of his own deepest wishes, not against them.

The emotion which tore his breast and clamored for utterance was just rage.

Jesus is angry alongside you... His anger can be trusted.

In Jesus Christ, we are given a friend who will always enjoy rather than refuse our presence.

The Lord is much compassionate or greatly compassioned.

This disposition is free and natural to him; he should not be God’s Son else, nor take after his heavenly Father, unto whom it is natural to show mercy.

He does not afflict from his heart.

His covenant love flows down to a thousand generations; but he visits generational sins to the third or fourth generation.

Jesus came to do in flesh and blood what God had done only in wind and voice in the Old Testament.

God’s heart of compassion confounds our intuitive predilections about how he loves to respond to his people if they would but dump in his lap the ruin and wreckage of their lives.

God is not poor in mercy. He is rich in mercy.

When God shows mercy, he is acting in a way that is True to himself.

He is a billionaire in the currency of mercy, and the withdrawals we make as we sin our way through life cause his fortune to grow greater, not less.

Christ died to confound our intuitive assumptions that divine love has an expiration date.

If God did that back then, when you were so screwy and had zero interest in him, then what are you worried about now?

He loved us in our mess then. He’ll love us in our mess now.

Our very agony in sinning is the fruit of our adoption. A cold heart would not be bothered.

Those in Christ are eternally imprisoned within the tender heart of God.

Intercession is something Christ is always doing, while advocacy is something he does as occasion calls for it.

When you sin, remember your legal standing before God because of the work of Christ; but remember also your advocate before God because of the heart of Christ.

There is no love so great and so wonderful as that which is in the heart of Christ.

We are drawn to God by the beauty of the heart of Jesus.

When we sin, the very heart of Christ is drawn out to us.

He always lives to make intercession for them.

Our sinning goes to the uttermost. But his saving goes to the uttermost.

I am gentle and lowly in heart.

The Heart of Christ: Gentle and Lowly

The central theme of 'Gentle and Lowly' is the heart of Christ, which Jesus describes as 'gentle and lowly' (Matthew 11:29). This description is significant because it is the only place in the Gospels where Jesus explicitly talks about his own heart. 'Gentle' implies that Jesus is not harsh or easily exasperated but is understanding and welcoming. 'Lowly' suggests that he is accessible and approachable, even to those who are burdened and weary. This duality of gentleness and lowliness forms the core of who Jesus is, making him the most approachable person in history. 'The posture most natural to him is not a pointed finger but open arms.'

Christ's Compassionate Heart

The core of Jesus' ministry, as depicted in the Gospels, is his deep compassion for the suffering and marginalized. Ortlund emphasizes that Jesus' actions—healing the sick, forgiving sins, and comforting the bereaved—are direct manifestations of his innermost desires. For instance, when a leper asks Jesus to make him clean, Jesus responds immediately, revealing his deepest wish to heal and restore (Matt. 8:2-3). 'The Greek word for 'compassion'... refers most literally to the bowels or guts of a person—it’s an ancient way of referring to what rises up from one’s innermost core.'

Christ's Unchanging Heart

The book highlights that Christ's heart for sinners and sufferers is unchanging and eternal. Ortlund uses John 13:1 to illustrate that Jesus loved His own to the end, even through betrayal and forsakenness. This steadfast love is not dependent on our loveliness or worthiness but is an essential part of who Christ is. 'He loved us in our mess then. He’ll love us in our mess now.' This unchanging heart of Christ assures believers that they are eternally secure in His love, regardless of their failures or sins.

For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

He doesn’t simply meet us at our place of need; he lives in our place of need.

Our pain never outstrips what he himself shares in. We are never alone.

Jesus does not throw his hands up in the air when he engages sinners. He is calm, tender, soothing, restrained.

Whoever comes to me I will never cast out.

His heart is too bound up with yours.

In the biblical gospel we are not given a thing; we are given a person.

Intercession is the constant hitting 'refresh' of our justification in the court of heaven.

Christ sides with you against your sin, not against you because of your sin.

His heart is as drawn to his people now as ever it was in his incarnate state.

The posture most natural to him is not a pointed finger but open arms.

Your very burden is what qualifies you to come.

Gentleness is who he is. It is his heart. He can’t un-gentle himself toward his own any more than you or I can change our eye color.

What he is, he does. He cannot act any other way. His life proves his heart.

The wrath of Christ and the mercy of Christ are not at odds with one another... The more robust one’s felt understanding of the just wrath of Christ... the more robust our felt understanding of his mercy.

Christ’s 'own joy, comfort, happiness, and glory are increased and enlarged by his showing grace and mercy, in pardoning, relieving, and comforting his members here on earth.

When you come to Christ for mercy and love and help in your anguish and perplexity and sinfulness, you are going with the flow of his own deepest wishes, not against them.

The emotion which tore his breast and clamored for utterance was just rage.

Jesus is angry alongside you... His anger can be trusted.

In Jesus Christ, we are given a friend who will always enjoy rather than refuse our presence.

The Lord is much compassionate or greatly compassioned.

This disposition is free and natural to him; he should not be God’s Son else, nor take after his heavenly Father, unto whom it is natural to show mercy.

He does not afflict from his heart.

His covenant love flows down to a thousand generations; but he visits generational sins to the third or fourth generation.

Jesus came to do in flesh and blood what God had done only in wind and voice in the Old Testament.

God’s heart of compassion confounds our intuitive predilections about how he loves to respond to his people if they would but dump in his lap the ruin and wreckage of their lives.

God is not poor in mercy. He is rich in mercy.

When God shows mercy, he is acting in a way that is True to himself.

He is a billionaire in the currency of mercy, and the withdrawals we make as we sin our way through life cause his fortune to grow greater, not less.

Christ died to confound our intuitive assumptions that divine love has an expiration date.

If God did that back then, when you were so screwy and had zero interest in him, then what are you worried about now?

He loved us in our mess then. He’ll love us in our mess now.

Our very agony in sinning is the fruit of our adoption. A cold heart would not be bothered.

Those in Christ are eternally imprisoned within the tender heart of God.

Intercession is something Christ is always doing, while advocacy is something he does as occasion calls for it.

When you sin, remember your legal standing before God because of the work of Christ; but remember also your advocate before God because of the heart of Christ.

There is no love so great and so wonderful as that which is in the heart of Christ.

We are drawn to God by the beauty of the heart of Jesus.

When we sin, the very heart of Christ is drawn out to us.

He always lives to make intercession for them.

Our sinning goes to the uttermost. But his saving goes to the uttermost.

I am gentle and lowly in heart.

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Fallen, anxious sinners are limitless in their capacity to perceive reasons for Jesus to cast them out.

If you are part of Christ’s own body, your sins evoke his deepest heart, his compassion and pity.

People don’t get better without follow-up.

Becoming a better leader (or a better person) is a process, not an event.

Winning too much is the #1 challenge because it underlies nearly every other behavioral problem.

What’s wrong is that they have no idea how their behavior is coming across to the people who matter—their bosses, colleagues, subordinates, customers, and clients.

These delusions are a direct result of success, not failure. That’s because we get positive reinforcement from our past successes, and, in a mental leap that’s easy to justify, we think that our past success is predictive of great things in our future.

Successful people believe that they have the capability within themselves to make desirable things happen. It’s the reason why some people raise their hand and say, “Put me in, coach” when the boss asks for volunteers to solve a problem—and others cower in the corner, praying they won’t be noticed.

Successful people literally believe that through sheer force of personality or talent or brainpower, they can steer a situation in their direction.

We spend a lot of time teaching leaders what to do. We don’t spend enough time teaching leaders what to stop. Half the leaders I have met don’t need to learn what to do. They need to learn what to stop.

The only natural law I’ve witnessed in three decades of observing successful people’s efforts to become more successful is this: People will do something — including changing their behavior — only if it can be demonstrated that doing so is in their own best interests as defined by their own values.

Even in the most gentle, intimate moments, when people are offering us their most acute (and helpful) snapshots of ourselves, we can’t help passing judgment.

The only sure thing that comes out of passing judgment on people’s efforts to help is that they won’t help us again.

Emotional volatility is not the most reliable leadership tool. When you get angry, you are usually out of control. It’s hard to lead people when you’ve lost control.

The problem with not sharing information—for whatever reason—is that it rarely achieves the desired effect. You may think you’re gaining an edge and consolidating power, but you’re actually breeding mistrust.

Of all the interpersonal slights we make in our professional or private lives, not providing recognition may be the one that endures most deeply in the minds of the slighted.

When someone you work with steals the credit for a success that you created, they’re committing the most rage-inducing interpersonal “crime” in the workplace.

If we can stop excusing ourselves, we can get better at almost anything we choose.

Expressing regret, or apologizing, is a cleansing ritual, like confession in church. You say, “I’m sorry”—and you feel better.

When you say, “I’m sorry,” you turn people into your allies, even your partners.

Gratitude is a skill that we can never display too often. And yet for some reason, we are cheap and chary with gratitude—as if it were rare Bordeaux wine that we can serve only on special occasions.

Passing the buck is the dark flip side of claiming credit that others deserve. Instead of depriving others of their rightful glory for a success, we wrongfully saddle them with the shame of our failure.

Successful people only have two problems dealing with negative feedback. However, they are big problems: (a) they don’t want to hear it from us and (b) we don’t want to give it to them.

Feedback is very useful for telling us “where we are.” Without feedback, I couldn’t work with my clients. I wouldn’t know what everyone thinks my client needs to change.

It’s my contention—and it’s the bedrock thesis of this book—that interpersonal behavior is the difference-maker between being great and near-great, between getting the gold and settling for the bronze.

In my experience the best solicited feedback is confidential feedback. It’s good because nobody gets embarrassed or defensive. There are no emotional issues, because you do not know who to blame or retaliate against for attacking you.

These blindside moments are rare and precious gifts. They hurt, perhaps (the truth often does), but they also instruct.

Every day, people are giving us feedback, of a sort, with their eye contact, their body language, their response time. Interpreting this casual observational feedback can be tricky; learning that something’s not right is not the same as learning what’s wrong and how we can fix it.

If you can see your world in a new way, perhaps you can see yourself anew as well.

The lesson: Your flaws at work don’t vanish when you walk through the front door at home. The moral: Anybody can change, but they have to want to change.

I regard apologizing as the most magical, healing, restorative gesture human beings can make. It is the centerpiece of my work with executives who want to get better.

80 percent of our success in learning from other people is based upon how well we listen. In other words, success or failure is determined before we do anything.

The ability to make a person feel that, when you’re with that person, he or she is the most important (and the only) person in the room is the skill that separates the great from the near-great.

Follow-up is how you measure your progress. Follow-up is how we remind people that we’re making an effort to change, and that they are helping us. Follow-up is how our efforts eventually get imprinted on our colleagues’ minds.

There is an enormous disconnect between understanding and doing. Most leadership development revolves around one huge false assumption: If people understand, then they will do. That’s not true.

Unlike feedback, which often introduces a discussion of mistakes and shortfalls, feedforward focuses on solutions, not problems.

More than anything, feedforward creates the two-way traffic I love to see in the workplace, the spirit of two colleagues helping each other rather than a superior being providing a critique.

Successful people have a glaring tendency to overcommit. If you outline seven flaws, they’ll want to tackle all of them.

When people commit to getting better, they are doing something difficult and heroic.

If you want to succeed at goal setting, you have to face the reality of the effort and the payoff before you begin.

Everything is measurable if we’re clever enough to see that it needs measuring—and can devise a way to track it.

If you want to change anything about yourself, the best time to start is now. Ask yourself, “What am I willing to change now?” Just do that. That’s more than enough. For now.

A lot of managers assume that their staff should be exactly like them—in behavior, in enthusiasm, in intelligence, and most especially, in how they apply that brainpower.

If they need too much of your time, you can’t just tell them to stop bothering you. You have to wean them away and make it seem like it’s their idea. Let them figure out what they should be doing on their own. Let them tell you where you’re not needed.

If you manage your people the way you’d want to be managed, you’re forgetting one thing: You’re not managing you.

Most leadership development revolves around one huge false assumption—that if people understand then they will do. That’s not true. Most of us understand, we just don’t do.