The future in mercy
In my Bible, the line read “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” God’s words in the prophet Hosea. A different translation suggested “kindness” for mercy; another, “compassion.” As we discussed the shades of meaning in these words, a wise woman in our study group commented, “God is so much better at this forgiveness business than we are!” It’s true. Mercy is hard to call up from the depths of our hearts when we’re angry, hurt, or in deep pain.
Her comment reminded me of another book we’re reading at St John’s these days. In “Not in God’s Name,” author Jonathan Sacks offers provocative words about repentance. Repentance is not saying “sorry” enough times to prove we deserve forgiveness. To repent is to be called into the future with the resolve not to commit the offence again. You can only know repentance is genuine by the life that follows. Repentance is what mercy allows for, for a changed life, moral growth. Sacks notes that repentance is key to the vision in Judaism, Christianity and Islam. According to Sacks, the possibility of repentance reflects “God’s faith in humankind.” Yet showing mercy to someone who has hurt us is so hard. We prefer to retaliate for injuries we sustain. Victims or their families are so rarely satisfied by the sentence a court sets. No sentence seems to balance the pain and loss which result from serious crime. But if the world can only insist on inflicting compensating pain on top of pain, it will drown in all that suffering. And so Good Friday and Easter dramatize God’s mercy, for both victim and offender. If you imagine Christ on the Cross, his arms are spread out, sagging under the weight of the world’s pain. He will carry it, though it cost his life to lift it from our shoulders. He has suffered pain inflicted by his enemies, too, and yet he will forgive them. What he hopes for is that we will repent of our pain, both the pain we’ve caused and the pain we’ve suffered. He hopes that we will live into the future made new by mercy, whether we are sinners or sinned against.
The awkward truth, which Sacks explores, is that religious communities are often not gifted at showing mercy, especially to each other. His book is worth reading to understand why. Nevertheless, he challenges the reader to trust in God’s faith in us. God gives us freedom, he argues, which includes not only the ability “to choose between alternative futures” but also “to reshape our understanding of the past, healing some of its legacy of pain.” Resurrection begins by choosing the future God’s mercy makes possible because we’ve allowed Christ to carry our pain. As I walk toward his Cross this week, I am praying for mercy to take hold in our hearts — for our own healing and the wellbeing of the world God loves.
Rev. Dr. Nancy Cocks is minister at St John's Presbyterian Church and a retired professor.