When Compassion Kills: "Mercy Killing" and the True Meaning of Mercy

In December 2023, a heartbreaking tragedy unfolded in Brisbane, Australia. Kylie Ellina Truswell-Mobbs, overwhelmed by the weight of her husband David's terminal illness, administered a lethal combination of medications through his feeding tube. David Mobbs, suffering from advanced motor neuron disease, had expressed a desire to delay any decisions regarding assisted dying. Yet against his wishes, his life was ended.

Kylie's actions were not born of malice in the traditional sense; they were born of a profound misunderstanding of mercy. And her story forces us to confront uncomfortable truths about our society's shifting views on life, suffering, and death.

The Slippery Slope of "Mercy Killing"

Advocates of assisted suicide often promise strict safeguards: voluntary choice, clear consent, and careful regulation. Yet history and common sense reveal a different reality. When society accepts the idea that some lives are no longer worth living, the "right to die" easily becomes the "duty to die." Vulnerable individuals—the elderly, the disabled, the terminally ill—soon find themselves subtly or overtly pressured to "choose" death, even when they are not ready.

This case in Australia is a chilling illustration of that progression. Even though David Mobbs had not consented, even though he expressed a desire to continue living, his life was taken. When death is framed as compassion, life becomes negotiable. And that is a betrayal of everything true compassion stands for.

Distorted Compassion

Real compassion does not eliminate the sufferer; it walks alongside them. It bears the burden of care, even when it is heavy. It says, "You are still valuable. You are not a burden. Your life is still a gift."

In contrast, a distorted view of compassion — the view that suffering must be ended at all costs — leads to a terrible conclusion: that the sufferer themselves must be eliminated. In this view, suffering becomes an ultimate evil worse than death. But Scripture teaches us differently. It teaches that God is close to the brokenhearted (Psalm 34:18) and that suffering can be a crucible in which endurance, character, and hope are forged (Romans 5:3-5).

The Crushing Burden on Caregivers

We must be honest: caregiving for a terminally ill loved one can be agonizing. The physical demands, the emotional exhaustion, the watching and waiting—all of it can leave caregivers feeling isolated, desperate, and overwhelmed.

But the solution is not to lift the burden by lifting life itself from the earth. The solution is *support.* Churches, families, and communities must recognize the hidden army of caregivers among us and offer tangible help: meals, respite care, prayer, emotional companionship, financial assistance. We must embody the love that bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:7).

Why the Gospel Offers a Better Story

The secular world sees suffering as meaningless and death as escape. But Christianity proclaims a better story. We believe that suffering, while painful, is never wasted in God's economy. We believe that every life, no matter how broken, bears the image of God (Genesis 1:27). And we believe that death is not the final victor, but that Christ has conquered the grave (1 Corinthians 15:55).

Hope does not come through control over death. Hope comes through trusting the One who holds life and death in His hands. He promises resurrection. He promises a day when every tear will be wiped away (Revelation 21:4).

Conclusion:

The tragedy in Brisbane is a sobering reminder of how deeply our society needs the gospel of life. True mercy does not kill. True love does not abandon. True hope is not found in ending suffering at all costs, but in walking faithfully through it, clinging to the God who redeems even our darkest valleys.

As Christians, we must recommit ourselves to being a people who proclaim and embody the sacredness of every human life — from the first breath to the final sigh. We must be people who carry burdens, not eliminate the burdened. We must offer real mercy, real hope, and real love.

Knowledge, Love, Obedience (John 7:10-19)

“If anyone wills to do His will, he shall know concerning the doctrine, whether it is from God or whether I speak on My own authority” (John 7:17).

Once Jesus arrived at the Feast of Tabernacles, He began to teach. The Jewish leaders, who had been critical of Him, were perplexed by the knowledge and wisdom He displayed. But they did not give Him the respect He deserved; instead, they were immediately skeptical, saying, “How can He really know anything since He did not attend a rabbinical seminary?” The Jewish leaders assumed that He had either learned His doctrine from a rabbi or He was merely espousing His own vain ideas. They knew the former was not the case, so they concluded that He must be uttering His own private opinions.

Jesus, of course, refutes them on this point. The doctrine He taught did not come from man and was not designed for His own exaltation, but it came from God and was proclaimed for God’s glory. We must be careful that the doctrine we teach is not our own and espoused for our own glory, but that it is the true doctrine of Scripture proclaimed for the glory of God.

Our Lord goes on to say that true knowledge is inextricably bound to obedience. If we really claim to be doing God’s will, that obedience will be derived from sound teaching according to the Scriptures. This is where the Jews failed miserably. They claimed to have knowledge (from Moses), but they did not do the will of God. Jesus did the will of His Father and gave Him the glory—two proofs that His teaching was true. All those who sincerely seek to obey God’s will know true teaching when they hear it.

We see the connection between knowledge, love, and obedience, love being included because if you love Him, you will obey Him. Each of these three aspects go together. “When we speak of knowledge, love, and obedience, we are not thinking of three altogether separate experiences, but of one single, comprehensive experience in which the three are united in such a manner that each contributes it’s share, and all cooperate unto man’s salvation and God’s glory,” Hendriksen writes. “Knowledge, therefore, will never be sanctified to the heart (in love) and lead to true discernment of the divine character and origin of Christ’s teaching unless the willingness to do God’s will is present first of all.”

Which category do you tend toward: a) those who don’t care about doctrine or obedience but want to love Jesus; b) those who care only for doctrine but not about love; c) those who care about obedience but not about love. Pray that you will be more balanced, that you will know truth, love Christ, and obey His will.

When Mission Dies: The Tragic End of a Church That Forgot the Gospel

In a stunning but sadly unsurprising move, the Presbyterian Church (USA) has announced the shutdown of its national missions branch, citing discomfort with "conversionism"—the belief that individuals must be called to personal faith in Jesus Christ. Once a hallmark of Protestant missions, the zeal to share the gospel and invite others into saving faith has been recast by some as oppressive or outdated. Yet this retreat is not a sudden shift; it is simply the next, inevitable step in a long process: the abandonment of the gospel that liberal Protestantism began generations ago.

The Heart of Orthodox Christianity: A Gospel to Share

At the very core of historic Christianity is the conviction that the gospel is good news—good news meant to be proclaimed, heard, believed, and responded to. Jesus Christ’s final earthly command was clear: "Go therefore and make disciples of all nations" (Matthew 28:19). Conversion is not a cultural preference or a relic of colonialism; it is the natural and necessary result of the gospel itself. Dead sinners are made alive through the Spirit and Word of God (Ephesians 2:1–10).

The early church knew this well. The Book of Acts is a chronicle of Spirit-empowered, conversion-focused mission. The apostles did not merely advocate for social reform, nor did they offer Christ as one valid option among many. They proclaimed, “There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved" (Acts 4:12).

To deny or diminish this is to strike at the very foundation of the Christian faith itself.

Liberal Protestantism’s Long Drift

The PCUSA’s retreat from missions is simply the logical conclusion of a theological drift that began over a century ago. Liberal Protestantism replaced divine revelation with human speculation, substituted social activism for gospel proclamation, and traded the offense of the cross for the applause of the culture. 

The roots of this decline stretch back to the early twentieth century, during the modernist-fundamentalist controversy. In the face of growing pressure from secular intellectual movements, many leaders within the old mainline Presbyterian Church chose accommodation over conviction. Rather than defending the authority of Scripture, the necessity of personal salvation, and the reality of supernatural truth, they embraced modernist theology, which reinterpreted Christianity as primarily a moral and social program. This theological shift culminated in denominational splits, with the more theologically conservative branches forming new fellowships (such as the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and the Presbyterian Church in America), while the main body—eventually known as the PCUSA—continued down the path of doctrinal erosion. What we are seeing today in the closure of their missions arm is simply the bitter fruit of seeds planted long ago.

When a church ceases to believe in human sin, divine wrath, the exclusivity of Christ, and the necessity of personal conversion, it eventually ceases to believe in missions altogether. After all, if everyone is already basically good, and if Jesus is only one path among many, why bother calling anyone to faith and repentance?

The PCUSA’s decision to shutter its missions work is not the death knell of a once-faithful church. It is the death rattle of a religious system that abandoned biblical Christianity long ago.

Why Conversionism is a Good and Beautiful Thing

In contrast to the cynicism of modern liberalism, the instinct to share Christ—the heart of conversionism—is a beautiful act of love. It is not imperialism; it is compassion. If sin truly separates us from God, if judgment is real, and if salvation is found in Christ alone, then sharing the good news is not an act of arrogance but an act of mercy.

The great missionary movements of the past understood this. William Carey, Amy Carmichael, Adoniram Judson, Hudson Taylor—all were driven by the knowledge that eternity was at stake and that Jesus is a Savior mighty to save.

Moreover, conversion is not coercion. It is the free, Spirit-wrought transformation of the heart. It is the invitation to leave death behind and find life in the risen Christ. As Paul writes, "The love of Christ controls us" (2 Corinthians 5:14). Evangelism is nothing less than offering the world its only true hope.

A Call to Faithfulness

The future of Christianity does not belong to churches that apologize for the gospel, but to those who proclaim it with boldness, humility, and joy. The PCUSA's retreat is a warning: when the church surrenders the gospel, it soon has nothing left to say.

We must resist the cultural tides that seek to privatize or silence our faith. We must remember that the gospel is still "the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes" (Romans 1:16).

The world does not need less conversion. It needs more. It needs Christ.

Beyond the Couch: Why Christianity, Not Psychoanalysis, Holds the True Answer to the Human Heart

Today, more than ever, the worlds of science, psychology, and philosophy are grappling with the great questions of human existence. What is the meaning of life? What happens after we die? In a fascinating hospital conversation, I found myself speaking with a brilliant clinical psychoanalyst, self-described as an atheist, facing a terminal cancer diagnosis. Despite a lifetime spent plumbing the depths of human consciousness, she found herself unprepared for the vast mystery that loomed beyond the veil of death. Her questions about faith and eternity revealed a striking reality: human knowledge, however profound, ultimately falls short before the infinite.

This encounter offers an opportunity to put the Christian worldview into conversation with psychoanalysis, showing not only Christianity's deeper insights but its ultimate superiority. Psychoanalysis does not merely fall short—it profoundly misdiagnoses the human condition and prescribes a powerless remedy.

The Insights and Errors of Psychoanalysis

Psychoanalysis, founded by Sigmund Freud and developed by figures like Jung and Lacan, seeks to explain the unconscious forces that shape human behavior. It recognizes internal conflict, brokenness, and longing—observations Christians can affirm. However, its underlying framework is fatally flawed.

Psychoanalysis treats guilt as pathology, sin as repression, and spiritual longing as unresolved psychological tension. It seeks healing through self-awareness rather than repentance, through interpretation rather than transformation. By doing so, it obscures the true nature of the human heart, which the Bible declares is "deceitful above all things, and desperately sick" (Jeremiah 17:9).

Psychoanalysis notices the symptoms but misunderstands the disease. It identifies the ache but cannot provide the cure. At its best, it describes certain realities of human brokenness; at its worst, it leads people further from the only true remedy found in Christ.

The Christian Revelation: Diagnosis and Cure

Christianity acknowledges the brokenness that psychoanalysis attempts to address but provides the only true solution. Rather than treating guilt as an illusion to be analyzed, Christianity treats it as a real moral problem requiring real forgiveness. Rather than seeing desire as something to be merely reinterpreted, Christianity calls for new hearts (Ezekiel 36:26).

Where psychoanalysis offers insight without hope, Christianity offers reconciliation with God.

Where psychoanalysis uncovers conflict without resolution, Christianity offers peace through Christ.

Where psychoanalysis explores the depths of the self, Christianity invites us to die to self and live anew in Christ.

Jesus Christ, the eternal Son of God, entered into human brokenness, bore our sin, conquered death, and offers forgiveness and resurrection life to all who trust in Him. As the apostle Paul wrote, "For since death came through a man, the resurrection of the dead comes also through a man" (1 Corinthians 15:21).

Facing Eternity: The Limits of Human Wisdom

As my conversation partner and I discussed these matters, it became evident that even the most brilliant human intellect, when stripped of faith, cannot provide a satisfying answer to death. Freud dismissed religion as illusion, but psychoanalysis leaves its adherents facing the grave with only uncertainty, fear, and speculation.

By contrast, the Christian stands at the edge of death not with speculation but with revelation. We do not guess about eternity; we know, because God Himself has spoken. Jesus declared, "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live" (John 11:25).

The Unavoidable Sense of the Beyond

Interestingly, even the atheist psychoanalyst sensed "something" beyond this life. This echoes the biblical teaching that God "has put eternity into man's heart" (Ecclesiastes 3:11). Deep down, all people know there is more than this life, more than this body, more than what can be measured by scientific tools or explored by psychoanalytic methods. The longing for eternity is embedded in our very being, a homing signal pointing us to our Creator.

Conclusion: The Final Conversation

Psychoanalysis can teach us some things about human behavior, but it cannot prepare the soul for eternity. It ultimately misdiagnoses the problem and prescribes a false hope. Only the gospel can expose the true depth of our need—and provide the true answer.

In the end, the question is not "How can I better understand myself?" but "Where do I stand before a holy God?" And thanks be to God, in Christ, we have a sure and certain answer.

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead" (1 Peter 1:3).

In God’s Timing (John 7:1-9)

“My time has not yet come.… The world cannot hate you, but it hates Me because I testify of it that its works are evil” (John 7:6–7).

Not only did the crowds reject Jesus’ claims concerning Himself, but His own brothers did as well. If Jesus had been more concerned about pleasing His earthly brothers than doing the will of God, He would have gone to the Feast of Tabernacles and more than likely been killed before God’s appointed time (which would occur at the following Passover, not at the Feast of Tabernacles). But, as always, Jesus put God’s will above the will of others.

Let us look at exactly what His brothers wanted. They obviously did not believe that He was the Messiah, the suffering servant, who would sacrifice Himself for His people. Like so many others of their day, they looked forward to an earthly king. But they might not have believed even this much about Jesus. They might have just been taunting Him that if He wanted to impress people, then He needed to go to Jerusalem where all the people were gathered. However, their emphasis on His showing His power seems to indicate that they probably thought of Him in terms of a Messiah who would set up a temporal kingdom. They wanted the “world” to see His power, and according to their own ideas about things, the upcoming Feast was the best place to manifest that power and lay claim to the throne.

What was Jesus’ response? First, He tells them that His time has not yet come. Jesus was committed to His Father’s timetable, not to the demands of mere men. We, too, should be committed to what God wants, not to what men, even our families, expect. Second, He says, in realistic terms (for He knew the evil motives of all people), that the world, unbelievers like His brothers, hated Him. They would always hate Him no matter how much power He displayed. The world hates Him because He exposes it’s sin. The world doesn’t want to hear about it’s sin, it’s need of redemption, or threats of hell. Yet, this was exactly what Jesus delivered. When unbelievers hear the truth about their wickedness, their sin, and their need of Christ, they scoff and scorn. No matter how much we talk about Christ’s power, they will never be impressed or enlightened by seeing “signs.” They will hate Him because their deeds are evil, and the “darkness hates the light.”

Jesus often warned that the world will hate you if you follow His ways. Has this been apparent in your own life? A great preacher once said that if a Christian goes through life with no opposition, he should question his salvation. Do you agree with this? Meditate on and find comfort in John 15:18–25.