Mercy isn’t on my grocery list. They are collecting food at church for a food pantry, and I keep forgetting to buy boxes of cereal to donate. In a very simple way, I don’t make mercy a priority.
Mercy isn’t absent.
I think about all the ways I want to help people, but don’t, and I know I’m stunting my own growth. I can intellectually understand that people’s actions are driven by deep-seated needs and emotions. But too often I am easily angered when my kids or husband do something wrong. I am a clanging cymbal in the worst way.
Mercy isn’t theoretical.
If I have the chance to put myself in someone’s shoes, imagine life from their point of view and refuse, I muffle mercy. If I don’t take the opportunity to speak up for others, or treat them the way I would want, then I opt out of speaking life.
Mercy isn’t silent.
Blessed are the merciful for they will receive mercy. When I withhold mercy for whatever reason, and when I stop to acknowledge it, I realize my own deep need for mercy.
I need mercy for my mercilessness. I need relief from the suffering of my selfishness. The others need relief from their suffering because of my self-focus.
Despite how much I want mercy to flow through my life, too often it gets stopped up in my mind. I’m afraid to speak up. I’m afraid to get out and volunteer, to try a new experience on my own. I too often choose the voice of frustration and anger instead of mercy and grace. I can rationalize it away by personality type, or seasons of life, or the kids or money, but really I’m just choosing to not make mercy a priority.
Mercy isn’t, so often in my life. One of my favorite prayers is from the Book of Common Prayer. “We have left undone those things which we ought to have done….but thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us…”
Mercy can’t just live in my head. When I live in fear of other’s opinions, I am not prone to mercy. When I have good intentions but no follow-through, I hoard mercy.
Mercy isn’t mercy when it’s not given.
Of course I deny the resurrection of Christ.
I deny the resurrection of Christ when I am not the place where resurrection happens.
I deny the resurrection of Christ whenever I am not the place where love and life occurs.
When I walk past the person who is suffering.
When I close my eyes to those who are in obvious need.
When I close my ears to those who scream.
When I do not stand up for those who are forced to live on their knees.
When I do not cry for those who have no tears left to shed.
Then I do deny the resurrection of Christ whatever I say.
– Peter Rollins
This post is linked up with the Mercy Monday synchroblog over at Jenn LeBow’s blog.
What are your experiences with mercy? When have you noticed what mercy is not?
Ahh I understand this so much. It’s easy to write about how I should follow Jesus and love others, but actually doing it in real life is inconvenient. I want to love people, but the problem is it can’t be on my own terms.
Caris, wow! Wow. “When I live in fear of other’s opinions, I am not prone to mercy.” Such a great observation – self-conscious people have a harder time focusing on mercy. Living in fear keeps us from giving (or receiving) mercy. Thank you for sharing this!
“Mercy isn’t mercy when it’s not given.” This resonates with me a great deal. I grew up in a very typical Southern household where the ladies spend hours talking about the misfortunes of others and while the probably really do feel bad about those misfortunes, I had the strong impression (at least growing up) that no one ever took any merciful actions. This is something I’m really trying to change in my life and it’s so hard to know WHAT to do when a situation calls for mercy.
Sooo inconvenient. But yet I expect others to give it to me just like that.
thanks for hosting this! such a good idea.
Yeah. I think it’s hard too, to know what to do sometimes. I’m just not good when things get awkward at all.
I too often choose the voice of frustration and anger instead of mercy and grace.
You’re hitting painfully close to home here Caris. Thanks for your good, challenging thoughts to begin the week and for your own openness in sharing them. You speak for me and, I imagine, many others.
I love this from the Book of Common Prayer. “We have left undone those things which we ought to have done….but thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us…” Storing it away. And I’d love to take you up on your offer in another comment to be neighbors–I love this, as I always do your thoughtful posts, and I think we’d have a lot to talk about. Thanks for these thoughts today.
“… mercy for my mercilessness”. That’s going to take a while to work through. What we most need we most withhold. Thanks for the post. (Love the word “muffle”, by the way) 🙂
Misery loves company! I catch myself sometimes when I’m yelling at the kids, and I’m thinking ‘what are you doing’ while I’m doing it, but it’s like I don’t even know how to stop myself. So frustrating.
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