The eCrozier

God’s mercy is the heart of what we observe in Lent. Mercy describes God’s essential nature wherein God says to us: “Even though you’ve broken my laws and my covenant, I won’t break you. I forgive you.” When Jesus cries from the cross: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do,” he was being overly kind and especially polite. Because I think we knew exactly what we were doing to Jesus on the cross. And we did it anyway.

There is no Christianity without mercy because it’s God’s essential nature. There’s no intelligible explanation of the Christian faith that anyone can make that doesn’t have God’s mercy foremost in it. Mercy is the proto-virtue because it alone creates a space for forgiveness to grow. Without mercy, there can be no forgiveness. So, if we wish to participate in what God is up to in the world, then our practice of mercy will be essential to our identity. We must learn to practice mercy, not judgment, with everyone.

We, however, live in a culture rampant with judgment. We’re judged all the time. It’s everywhere. Our bosses judge us on our job performance. Our neighbors judge us over the weeds in our yard. We’re judged when we don’t dress in the right fashion. We’re judged by the words we choose. We’re even judged by our spouses, friends, and parents. Even our children judge us. Oh my! And such constant judgment exhausts us because we can rarely measure up to their judgment. Even when we do measure up, we often end up thinking we really haven’t. Such is the power of living under such daily judgment.

There’s a story of a woman who took her ten year-old grandson to spend the day at the beach. She brought his sand toys and a blanket, beach chair, and umbrella for herself. When it all was set out, she told her grandson to go play while she settled down to read. Minutes later she heard her grandson crying out. She looked up from her book and saw that he was far out in the water struggling against powerful waves. The lifeguard on duty was already swimming out toward the boy fighting a strong tide and relentless waves. At last, he grabbed the boy, but it took him a half hour before he could bring the boy safely to the shore. A crowd gathered around the exhausted lifeguard as he administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Minutes later the boy coughed up the water from his lungs and sat up breathing normally. The crowd cheered. The lifeguard rolled onto his back in the hot sand completely spent from his work. The grandmother smiled and looked at her grandson. Then she stared down at the exhausted lifeguard lying in the sand. With a look of displeasure, she said to the lifeguard: “He had a hat!”

We know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of judgment, earned and unearned. It’s not that we don’t often deserve judgment. Of course, we do. But it’s not about what you, I, or anybody else deserves. Rather it’s about what God is up to in this world through Jesus. God is up to mercy. Jesus’ cross on Good Friday proclaims that eternal truth. So, what if we became flagrant in granting mercy to everyone all the time? What if we just gave up sitting on the judgment seat and sat in a place of mercy instead? We would offer a compelling witness to the mercy Jesus embodied in his life and in his death. And in the process we would change the world for his sake.

+Scott