This review has adopted a broad understanding of ‘mercy.’ Mercy is the withholding of punishment and is also popularly used to refer to the alleviation of suffering. Some readers may choose to reserve ‘mercy’ to describe the withholding of judgement, preferring to use ‘compassion’ or ‘kindness’ to denote what DiMarcangelo, and this review, refer to under the banner of mercy.
Amy DiMarcangelo’s Go and Do Likewise is an earnest call for Christians to be faithful doers of gospel-fuelled mercy. In many ways, it’s a book about perspective. How do we see others? How do we see what we’ve been given? How do we understand God and the call to global justice and mercy? As our answers to these questions align with the gospel, we become agents of mercy—not disabled by the overwhelming needs of the world, but spurred on by them. Our lives and possessions turn outward in holistic and sustainable service of others.

Go and Do Likewise: A Call to Follow Jesus in a Life of Mercy and Mission
In love, Jesus came to redeem sinful people and restore a fallen world, and he invites all of his followers to join this good work. But how can believers effectively care for their neighbours when life is so marred by sin and suffering?
From a theological perspective, Go and Do Likewise explores God’s grand story of redemption to uncover how ordinary Christians can extend God’s compassion to those in need. This practical book encourages believers to joyfully engage in Christ’s mission—relying on the gospel to spur mercy, justice, and generosity to those who need it most.
Go and Do Likewise is underpinned by the repeated—and entirely healthy—recognition that human mercy is something which flows out of a life centred on Jesus. Only through richly dwelling on the gospel and deeply recognising Christ’s generosity, humility and servant-heartedness, can we become generous, humble and servant-hearted ourselves.
Right Perspectives
DiMarcangelo takes us back to the gospel to help reframe various aspects of mercy mission, as we seek to live faithfully in the present age. For example, as we more deeply understand the weight of Christ’s sacrifice, we move beyond convenient care, into sacrificial care for our neighbours (ch. 2). As we are shaped by an understanding of God’s righteous fury towards sin, we move out of complacency and begin to fight injustice and systemic oppression (ch. 3). As we extend compassion to orphans and widows, we discharge our duties of love and point to God’s enduring faithfulness (ch. 4). As we feel God’s heart for the needy and recognise our duty to act, we’ll become outspoken champions for those who are suffering (ch. 5). As we take the command to show hospitality seriously, our homes become centres of outflowing mercy in our communities, pointing back to God’s lavish love (ch. 7).
A highlight of the book is its call to humility in mission. When we remember all people are made in God’s image and are not defined by their problems, we rid ourselves of arrogance and develop a more holistic view of the marginalised and oppressed (ch. 1). We realise that we ourselves are dependent on God and have much to learn. God’s call to live out the gospel is to all disciples for the good of all, not only to Western disciples for the sake of the non-Western, or the rich Western for the sake of the poor.
In a discussion on financial generosity, DiMarcangelo doesn’t shy away from the fact that a life of tangible mercy is also a life of self-denial (ch. 6). Living out radical other-centred generosity entails keeping less for ourselves. Yet, when our blessings are viewed rightly, as gifts to be stewarded for God’s glory and the good of others, giving can become a sincere joy. There is deep satisfaction to be found in sacrificial generosity; it is more blessed to give than to receive (Acts 20:35).
Good Deeds Amplify the Good News
Go and Do Likewise is thoroughly gospel-centred: all good works flow from God’s work in us and exist to glorify Christ and point people to the cross. Meeting needs and loving practically is a noble means of glorifying God and practicing obedience, but DiMarcangelo is faithful in proclaiming all needs secondary to our fundamental need for a saviour. More than anything else, we and the people we serve need Jesus. Because of this, we shouldn’t separate practical mission from gospel mission. They go hand in hand. Ours acts of mercy serve to magnify the gospel we proclaim.
Happily, there is no whiff of guilt-based rhetoric. Readers are not shamed or pressured into shallow demonstrations of mock concern. Rather, we are encouraged to consider how we can be agents of God’s grace and compassion in light of what Jesus has done for us.
Non-Prescriptive Perspective
Though the call to mercy is universal, the specifics are not. DiMarcangelo acknowledges that our unique giftings, contexts and capacities alter what mercy looks like. Generosity or hospitality look different for the university student, the mother-of-five and the wealthy retiree. Regardless of where we are, we are encouraged to grow in our practice of mercy.
This encouragement also extends to areas where complexities and ethical conundrums abound. Both fostering and financial giving, for instance, raise a myriad questions about how they are best implemented. Would-be mercy-doers can be left paralysed rather than diligent and prayerful in the face of such questions. While we should seek to do mercy responsibly—seeking God’s wisdom and the counsel of others— the call to mercy is not a call to perfection.
What a freeing reality! We do not need to find the perfect organisation to support or the perfect person to serve. Indeed, this would be impossible. God calls us to faithfulness but remains on his throne: we can trust him to work through our imperfect efforts.
What Goes Unsaid
For all the strengths of Go And Do Likewise, it doesn’t present a systematic argument for the necessity of mercy, but chiefly provides encouragement for those who already find themselves overwhelmed by the dire needs of the world. In this sense, DiMarcangelo’s preaching primarily aids the choir. While three introductory chapters do touch on the issue, a more robust presentation of the why of mercy would deepen this book’s impact.
A second concern arises from DiMarcangelo’s characterisation of our involvement in God’s work. The acts of mercy which she commends are framed as being part of God’s redemptive and restorative works. Readers must weigh these terms with caution. Should the language of redemption and restoration be reserved for describing God’s saving work accomplished through Jesus—expressed in the atonement, the Church’s evangelistic mission, and our certain hope of Christ’s second coming? It may be that DiMarcangelo considers acts of mercy to fall within the scope of evangelistic mission, but if this is the case, her language should be clearer.
Regardless, DiMarcangelo’s overall thrust is faithful and clear: do justice, love mercy, walk humbly.