Text: “And of his fulness have all we received, and grace for grace.” — John 1:16
Introduction
In a world of shortage and scarcity, it is rare to speak of surplus. But in Christ, there is no economy of mercy, no rationing of love, no drought of divine kindness. From His fullness, we receive—not trickles of grace, not drops, not even streams—but grace upon grace. Layered. Piled. Endlessly renewed.
The Greek phrase—charin anti charitos—means “grace in place of grace.” As one wave replaces another upon the shore, so grace flows in rhythms unbroken, grace replacing grace, mercy rising where mercy once stood.
We are not saved by one act of grace alone, but by a succession of them. Not one miracle of mercy, but an ocean of them. We stand not upon a platform of grace but upon a mountain built stone upon stone, grace upon grace.
I. Grace That Begins the Journey
The first grace is the grace that finds us. Before we knew His name, before we opened our hearts, before we cared about sin or righteousness—grace had already moved.
It was the Shepherd leaving the ninety-nine.
It was the Father scanning the horizon for the prodigal’s silhouette.
It was mercy stirring in eternity while we played with death.
This beginning grace is not deserved. It does not wait for qualification. It is grace that stoops. Grace that searches. Grace that whispers, “Live.”
“While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”
That is the first grace.
And yet, it is only the first wave.
II. Grace That Builds Upon Grace
The grace that saves does not stop. It builds.
The same Christ who justifies also sanctifies. The same mercy that pulled you from the mud now begins to wash, mold, refine, and shape.
Do not think God’s grace is like a one-time gift. It is a daily river, flowing new every morning. The strength you had yesterday was yesterday’s grace. But today—you have fresh supply.
Grace for your weakness.
Grace for your temptation.
Grace for your sorrow.
Grace for your calling.
Grace for your failure.
Grace for your waiting.
Each need is met—not by recycled mercy—but by new grace. Tailored. Timed. True.
III. Grace That Replaces What Breaks
Sometimes we lose what we thought we could never live without.
The friendship that dies. The dream that fails. The joy that fades.
But God never leaves a soul empty for long. When one grace is lifted, another comes. Grace in place of grace.
Elijah by the brook received water until the brook dried. Then grace came again—this time through a widow in Zarephath.
Moses died. Grace came again—through Joshua.
The manna ceased. Grace came again—through the harvest of Canaan.
Your life is not held by one thread of favor. It is a tapestry, rewoven daily by grace upon grace. Every ending is not a void—but a room prepared for new mercy to move in.
IV. Grace That Multiplies in Trial
When trials come, grace does not thin—it thickens.
“My grace is sufficient for thee, for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
Satan may increase his fire, but God deepens His well.
Affliction may rise, but grace climbs higher.
You say, “I cannot bear this cross.”
And heaven answers, “You do not bear it—I carry you upon it.”
We think grace runs dry when pain intensifies. But the opposite is true. Suffering does not remove grace—it reveals its layers. We see not only the kindness of God but the depth of it.
In the fire, we find that grace is not only for light—but also for heat. Not just for praise—but also for perseverance.
V. Grace That Meets You at Every Stage of Life
There is childhood grace—soft and shielding.
There is youth’s grace—fiery, forming, and full of warning.
There is adult grace—steady, strengthening, serious.
There is aged grace—calm, preparing, and full of wisdom.
Grace meets you in every decade, at every turn. Not one version of it, but a new form suited to each season. The grace that helped you forgive at twenty will not be the same grace that comforts you at seventy. And yet—it is all Christ’s fullness. Never exhausted. Never borrowed. Always present. Always perfect.
VI. Grace That Will Carry Us Home
And one day, the last grace on this earth will come.
You will breathe your final breath. Family will stand weeping. The body will weaken. The soul will tremble.
But as the heart slows—grace does not.
One more wave. One last mercy. One final lift.
And that grace will become glory.
The veil will tear.
Faith will become sight.
And you will rise, not as a sinner limping to heaven, but as a saint carried all the way by grace upon grace.
Conclusion
What are we, if not the trophies of mercy?
We who once deserved wrath now walk in waves of wonder.
Not one day of your life has been lived without the echo of grace behind it.
Not one moment has slipped by without the shadow of kindness overhead.
Let the world speak of karma. Let religions trade in merit.
But let the Church stand and say:
“Of His fullness have we all received—and grace for grace.”
Amen.