Our Favorite Grace-in-Practice TV Shows

Looking for a new show to get you through the dog days of Lent? We’ve got you covered with this list of some of our favorite grace-centered offerings from the past four decades. Feel free to add your own in the comments. 

Can you believe we lived in a timeline when Thursday nights on NBC once had 30 Rock, Community, The Office, and Parks and Rec playing back-to-back in that order? Is that the best two hours of TV ever broadcast? Community remains my favorite of the bunch, as grace-centered a TV program to have ever been made. The wacky losers of Greendale’s infamous study group were so in touch with their own failures and faults that grace and mercy seemed like the only logical way to interact with each other. All this is wrapped up, of course, in showrunner Dan Harmon’s unwavering love of pop culture and intelligent writing. Memorable episodes of mercy include a master class of imputation titled “Messianic Myths and Ancient Peoples” (S2E5), and the radical act of mercy that is “Herstory of Dance” (S4E8). Also, The Atlantic recently argued that “Remedial Chaos Theory” (S3E4) is one of the best television episodes ever made. – Bryan Jarrell

Beckham (S1E1 – “The Kick”): You don’t have to be a soccer fan to relate to David Beckham’s highs and lows. The first kick sends him into world fame, and the second elicits a red card so others can kick him while he’s down. Later in the series, Victoria says, “What did we know? We were just kids!” Seeing things the way they actually are (not how we want them to be) makes this whole series deeply memorable. – Marilu Thomas

Bluey (S3E49 – “The Sign”): Every one of the episodes of this show could be its own article, but this one is the cream of the crop. The surprise ending is the culmination of so much that has built up throughout the season that one can’t help but wonder whether God himself is pulling the strings behind the scenes. Yes, it’s a kids show, but you’ll still cry all the same. – Todd Brewer

Cheers (S2E19 – “Coach Buries a Grudge”): The dark side of sweet-tempered Coach comes out after the death of his old teammate T-Bone, when he learns the truth about the man. He and other former teammates indulge their shared rage at his memorial. What turns the situation around is not wisdom or character (and Coach has plenty of both), but an interrupting grace. Amazingly enough, the writers of this episode were wise enough to let this interruptive grace end the episode — no pat summaries or morals. – Sarah Hinlicky Wilson

Derry Girls: Pure grace for the recovering good-girl-raised-in-a-private-Christian-school-rule-follower to the T. I don’t laugh and cry together in too many shows, but this one? YES. Focusing in during The Troubles in Northern Ireland that lasted from the late 1960s and ended with the Good Friday Agreement in 1998, we follow families and their teenage kids through it all. Catholics and Protestants, north and south unite. Irreverent humor with a healthy dose of reverent humanity. Pure grace abounds. – Janell Downing

Detectorists: This show is for anyone who has ever sat in a shabby church on a perfectly good Sunday morning and known that there’s no better place to be. Detectorists are the sort of people who spend their free time wandering around fields looking for treasure — in other words, the people who’ve settled for low stakes. But as Jesus’ Parable of the Pearl of Great Price reveals, when you’ve found it all in the last place you expect, there’s nothing you’d trade for it. – Ryan Cosgrove

Eerie, Indiana: A Disney one season wonder, 1993’s Eerie, Indiana, starring Hocus Pocus star, Omri Katz, has been a consistent favorite of mine for the last 30 years. Marshall Teller (Katz) moves to a small town, an extremely weird town, and tries to navigate the weirdness with his best friend Simon. Weirdness and opportunities for grace and redemption are often found in the same places. Mention the name of this show around PZ, and he’ll reply with “Heart on a Chain” (S1E7) as his favorite episode. It’s surprisingly poignant for such a lighthearted series. As for me, “Forever Ware” (S1E1) is a near perfect inaugural episode. – Josh Retterer

Elsbeth: In a spin-off from The Good Wife, quirkily honest Elsbeth Tascioni is a procedural consultant for the NYPD who is fully and unreservedly herself. What I most appreciate about the series are the mini moments of confession and reconciliation that undo my aloneness. – Marilu Thomas

Father Brown: I am a sucker for shows that sit at the intersection of religion, crime, mystery, and British accents. This show is the center of that Venn diagram. Father Brown, the village priest, helps the police solve crimes, though they would prefer he stick to ministry. I am always surprised by the grace and forgiveness that Brown extends to each person, whether victim or criminal. I appreciate his reminders that God loves them, regardless of their background or sins, and that repentance is something we all need. – Jane Grizzle

Freaks and Geeks (S1E16 – “Smooching and Mooching”): Nick’s (Jason Segel) strict military dad gets fed up with Nick’s bad grades and lack of effort and sells his Neil Peart-inspired 29-piece drum kit. They get in a huge fight, and Nick leaves and ends up staying with the Weirs (his friend Lindsay and her family). While there he ends up in a conversation with Lindsay’s dad (played magnificently by the late Joe Flaherty) who gives what starts as a normal Dad speech about doing homework and applying himself, but at one point he says, “Push yourself, you’re a smart kid,” and you get the feeling from Nick’s face that he’s not used to hearing things like that. Knowing Nick’s into drums, Mr. Weir then plays him some old Buddy Rich and Gene Krupa records, blowing his mind. It’s just a short scene, but for the past ~25 years, it’s played over and over in my brain as this beautiful example of love and grace, long before I knew the term imputation. And it’s only emphasized when in a later scene, Lindsay gets jealous of the attention her dad gives Nick, and her dad says: “You know what the difference is between you and Nick? You’re my daughter. Every second you’re out of this house, every second that I can’t see you or know what you’re doing, it’s absolute torture for me.” Lindsay says, “Dad, I can’t stay inside all the time.” Her dad responds: “I know. Why not?” Perfect. – Joey Goodall

Friday Night Lights is one of my all-time favorite shows. From the opening credits swell of music, to Coach and Tami’s deep friendship/love, to Tim Riggins’ sacrificing his freedom for his brother, it does not get better than a show that purports to be about football but, like all good stories, is actually about something much deeper: the good news of a community based in love. – Stephanie Phillips

Friday the 13th: The Series is barely related to the movies by the same name. It follows Micki and her cousin Ryan, both inheritors of an antiques store from their uncle, Lewis Vendredi. Uncle Lewis unwisely decided to make a pact with the devil and sell cursed objects. Lewis broke the pact and lost his life as a result. Micki, Ryan, and Jack (Lewis’ friend pre-pact) now spend their lives risking everything trying to recover all the cursed wares in order to save folks from the evil their unwitting purchases brought upon them. Lives of sacrifice, a career of daily reminders of the destructive power of evil, and yet, the front row seat to witnessing miracles and curses being broken is a powerful reward. – Josh Retterer

House, M.D. (S1E5 – “Damned If You Do”): The acerbic, militantly atheist Dr. Gregory House and his team treat a nun, who inspires not only mockery from House (“She has God inside her. It would have been easier to deal with a tumor”) but also intense animosity from Dr. Robert Chase who, as it turns out, is a seminary dropout. This makes Chase’s expression of his long-dormant faith (which continues to pop up occasionally throughout the series) all the more stunning. For his part, House is called out (and certainly not for the last time in the series) for trying way too hard at the whole atheism thing. As the patient points out, it’s pretty hard to be angry with someone you don’t believe exists. – David Clay

Last Chance U: Basketball: One of the most hopeful bits of television I’ve seen. Yes, even more than Ted Lasso, since this is non-fictional. This docuseries on the East LA Huskies, a junior college program coached by a man named John Mosley, is a triumph of grace in practice. The type of charity that Mosley offers these young men is charity of interpretation, or what de Botton calls “an uncommonly generous assessment of our idiocy, weakness, eccentricity or deceit.” Mosley sees himself in each and every one of them: a young man up against a lot, both internally and externally, with no one to help. – David Zahl

Love: A raunchy and at times cringey but eventually winsome look at a roller coaster of a romance. Set against a hazy, not-exactly-glamorous Los Angeles, Mickey and Gus muddle together through addiction and recovery, employment ups and downs, and all manner of early-thirties hijinks. But the title of the show is Love, so you know that these two chaotic characters will always be drawn through their worst moments towards each other. After all, you have to be known in order to be loved. I think this show is really funny too. – Christopher Green

The Middle (S3E20 – “Get Your Business Done”): This is the episode where the Heck family tries to change churches from their boring church to a new high energy, motivational church that preaches a “Get your business done!” sermon application, to which Franki, the mom, responds with newfound excitement to set and reach a number of big goals. But as time goes on, she overthinks it, obsesses over it, and gets angry at her family for not matching her zeal. In a humorous climax where she’s taking her — now high — blood pressure at a drugstore, she comes to the realization that her old church that just (boringly) read from the Bible, without huge practical takeaways, was where she needed to be. It ends with her monologue, that for six days a week she’s told by the world to get her business done, so having that one day where that isn’t the message is what her heart needs. – Chris Wachter

The Newsroom (S1E4 – “I’ll Try to Fix You”): I recently rewatched this Aaron Sorkin show as my attempt to emotionally soothe myself during yet another tumultuous election season. Gone are the days of Walter Cronkite and Tom Brokaw. In episode 4 of season 1, News Night with Will McAvoy has just received news that Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords had been shot. (Remember that?) In real time, we watch the Newsroom go back and forth about whether or not they should pronounce her dead, even though all of their other competitors have done so. When the hot-headed owner of the company flies in and gives them a piece of his mind about ratings falling, Don (who’s had a rough go with his integrity up until now), solemnly speaks the truth. “It’s a person. A doctor pronounces her dead, not the news.” This is one of the pivotal moments in the show where they “just decided to do the news.” Not entertainment – ratings be damned. Putting together what they know. No assumptions. No hot takes. They decided to tell people’s stories with integrity. And you know what we need in order to do that? A whole lot of grace. – Janell Downing

The Pitt and ER: My new favorite streamer, The Pitt (on Max) offers countless examples of the hidden God showing up behind the masks of the show’s ER staff at a trauma hospital. God’s grace is active in stitches and CT scans and, yes, science. But I’m most interested in what happens when someone is desperate for a word of mercy from the God who is revealed in the preached word. For that there’s nothing better than two minutes from The Pitt’s medical predecessor ER in which a terminally ill cancer patient encounters a chaplain both unable and unwilling to provide forgiveness. No absolution means the despair is absolute. – Ken Jones

The Pitt (S1E4 – “10:00 A.M.”): I had never heard of the Hawaiian prayer ritual known as Ho’oponopono until I encountered it in this episode of The Pitt. (This immersive emergency room drama should come with a trigger warning for the squeamish, by the way). The ritual, in Dr. Robby’s version at least, teaches a conflicted and anguished pair of siblings to speak four things to their dying father: “I love you. Thank you. I forgive you. Please forgive me.” Grace ensues. – Larry Parsley

Rev.: Though it lasted only three seasons, this show has remained one of the most enduring shows of our time. Based around Rev. Adam Smallbone (Tom Hollander), the vicar of a failing parish in downtown London, the show somehow avoids both mocking the Church and being too preachy to unbelievers. Smallbone is hardly the pious priest that Hollywood loves to typecast, but is a complex character with as much doubt, ambition, and frustrations as the rest of us. He keeps meaning to christen his own baby; he struggles to make financial ends meet; he dreads any run-ins with Archdeacon Robert who puts pressure on him to grow his congregation. The final scene of season three is a masterclass on grace. With his church facing closure and his reputation completely shot-through, Smallbone has a divine encounter with Liam Neeson dressed in a tracksuit and greasy beanie and dancing like a fool to “Lord of the Dance.” Need I say more? – Sam Bush

The Righteous Gemstones: St. Paul was very real about sin. He acknowledged we’re in bondage to sin all the way down. But, when cornered, he also knew better than to say we should sin so that grace may abound. On the face of it, these two statements seem contradictory. But in real life, they make perfect sense. And that’s what The Righteous Gemstones is all about. The characters never reform. Yet, grace abounds. However, grace doesn’t abound because of their sin. But then again, it doesn’t abound in spite of it, either. Try to figure that out. Or just laugh along with all the hijinks of the Gemstones’ latest misadventure. – Ryan Cosgrove

Ted Lasso: By my count, Mbird has written about this show 16 times, second only to the saints of Friday Night Lights. Ted embodies grace to his players and staff in ways that are uncommon to both the sports world and the real world, transforming a ragtag bunch of castoffs into something of a family. Here’s hoping the upcoming fourth season continues the show’s winning ways. – Todd Brewer

Shrinking: This show was my favorite from last year. Jason Segel plays Jimmy, a grieving single father who is drowning in his grief following the death of his wife in a car accident. His daughter Alice is the emotional heart of the show, and his mentor Paul, played by Harrison Ford, is the moral compass. The themes of shame, guilt, pain, forgiveness, and love are present and developed in a realistic way. Anyone who has grieved and been caught in the vortex of memories and emotions will find this show a balm, but perhaps also a little difficult at times because of how real the story is. – Jane Grizzle

Slow Horses: I wrote about how much this show reminds me of my job at a church for the Mockingbird website. The show is about failed spies, most of whom believe themselves to be James Bond but in reality are messy and not very good. The star of the show, Gary Oldman, plays Jackson Lamb, the faded, gross, apathetic boss of the Slow Horses, who saves his people from problems of their own making, showing a love for his team that never stops. – Jane Grizzle

Somebody Somewhere: Jesus once said that those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for his sake will find it. In other words, trying to get somewhere is the best way to get nowhere at all. No show captures this better than Somebody Somewhere. It’s a show full of nobodies going nowhere. They’re all stuck. But here’s the trick of the show: As the characters get so battered down that they can’t try to escape anymore, they all become somebody to each other. And when that happens, they all realize they’ve landed somewhere better than they could have ever imagined. – Ryan Cosgrove

The Vicar of Dibley (first two seasons), Modern Family (first six seasons), and All Creatures Great and Small: I generally watch TV for the purpose of feeling better, so naturally I’ve tended towards fluffy, feel-good comedies or lighthearted dramas. None of these three shows are what you’d call icons of the golden age of prestige television — I’ve never even seen Breaking Bad, Game of Thrones, The Sopranos, Succession, or The Wire. But of all the fluff I’ve consumed over the years, each of these shows stands out for two grace-related reasons: First, each gave me some joy during dark periods — the first show (a ’90s BBC sitcom about one of the early female Anglican priests, the content of which I have no interest in analyzing retrospectively on theological grounds…) I watched when I was in a lonely, impoverished, depressive funk my second year out of college, and the latter two shows I binged (or started binging) with my wife during the first COVID summer. Second, each of these shows takes a nobody-gets-away-unscathed approach: in other words, all the major characters get their chances over the course of each season to put their foot in their mouths (or in manure, as the case may be), to be exposed as self-centered, thick-headed, weak-willed, or just plain bristly, inconsiderate assholes. And yet, in classic sitcom fashion, by the end of each episode they’ve all been forgiven their foibles and welcomed back into the fold. To me, that’s what family (and church) feels like at its best — we all get our turns to screw up and be forgiven. In the context of feel-good TV, is that cheap grace? Maybe. But it’s an approximation of the grace we need and get from God, which, in the shadow of the cross, is never cheap. – Ben Self