Reflections on the Beatitudes – Part Five

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

 

“For His mercy endures forever.” In Second Chronicles 5:13, the phrase is a part of the story of the building of the Ark of the Covenant.  When the reader states the first line of each stanza of Psalms 136, we respond, “For His mercy endures forever.” As the reader recites the first phrase, I find myself anticipating the end of the phrase and my responsibility to respond with, “For His mercy endures forever.” When have I actually reflected on each stanza, all of the ways that His mercy endures? More importantly, how have I incorporated these lessons into my life?

Mercy is a puzzling concept, at least in my mind, as I contemplate the eight beatitudes. I re-read my reflections of loneliness, mourning, meekness, and righteousness, all within the concept of mercy, and I became more and more pensive about what “mercy” means in my life. Mercy is not about forgiveness, although it is a part of forgiveness. Mercy is not about compassion, although it is a part of compassion. Mercy isn’t even about sympathy or empathy. It is all of those things, but most importantly, mercy is following through. It is the moment when I have felt the need to extend my heart and soul to someone who is in need, stopping what I was doing, even when stopping would delay me for my next appointment. Mercy is sitting with a friend who is in such pain that she is crying, even when such sitting is in silence; when it feels like my actions are inadequate. Mercy is giving, and feeling, and sharing, all at once. It’s not enough to write a check; I need to make sure that the act is mindful, done within the context of mercy.

The Good Samaritan (Luke 10:29-37) did not just stop and tend to the wounds of the man who was left by the side of the road, beaten, robbed and half-dead.  He put the man on his own animal; put him up at the inn and took care of him; left enough money for continued care; and repaid the innkeeper for the later expenses. All of this was by and for men who were “supposed” to hate each other, because Samaritans and Jews generally despised one another in those days. The parable demonstrated the answer to the question, “Who is my neighbor?”

Wow – Would I act like the Good Samaritan if faced with the same dilemma? Or would I ignore the situation, walk to the other side of the street, or just pass by the injured man for my own selfish needs (fear, time constraints, judgment)? How many times have I seen a disaster-in-the-making, only to rush ahead so as not to get involved? There was a recent study of pastoral students who were asked to prepare a sermon on the Good Samaritan. After they delivered the sermons, they went out under a time constraint, and were presented with a similar situation – a person was on the sidewalk, hurt and bleeding. Most of the future pastors ignored or avoided the injured fellow and hurried to their appointment.

I would like to think that I would act and follow through, because if I was in need of mercy, someone would be, and has been, there for me. Mercy transcends fear; it transcends deadlines; it transcends cultural mores. It endures forever.