IN LITTLE WAYS
December eighth begins a Year of Mercy, in which the church proclaims to the world that God’s mercy is infinite and eternal. I fear, though, that our understanding of mercy is incomplete. We think of it as a single act, like a judge giving probation instead of jail time. However, the divine mercy we receive, and try to give, is more an attitude than a single act.
We are, and always will be, sinners. Every morning I say the Lord’s Prayer requesting both my daily bread and forgiveness for the sins I know I’ll commit before sundown. I don’t believe, though, that God spends the day counting my sins and calculating how much mercy he’ll need to issue tonight.
I think God regards me as his imperfect but lovable child. He’s delighted when I strive to control my temper, but he is not shocked when I fail. He sees how his grace has helped me improve. He understands why I stumble. His love does not grow when I succeed or weaken when I fail. It is always fully and completely there, the foundation of my existence.
If we had (or have been) good parents, we’ve tasted that kind of merciful love. I remember my mother cleaning up yet another bike injury. She urges me to be more careful. At the same time, she washes out the grit, blows away the iodine sting and carefully attaches just the right size band aid. The gentle scolding and the gentle hands are both expressions of her love. My crashes don’t interrupt that love, and it follows me even as I rush back outside to take more foolish chances.
God calls us to cultivate that same attitude of mercy toward others. I don’t have it, but I know others who do, and I envy their peace. The merciful ones spend little or no time judging others or worrying about possible injuries from potential enemies. They have chosen to be kind to everyone no matter what. And, you know, I don’t think they get hurt any more often than those of us who are more cautious. When they are hurt, they get over it faster because they already understand that we all hurt others from time to time. They live in mercy.
Giving and receiving mercy are two aspects of the same experience. We pray “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive …” If we’ve never chosen to overlook an injury, how can we believe God truly forgives and forgets? If we’ve never acknowledged that we need forgiveness, how can we repair the broken relationships in our lives? Mercy is not an item by item transaction. It’s a way of seeing ourselves and others. We are all brothers and sisters, sharing the same family weaknesses, but all precious to our loving Father.
Like all miracles, mercy requires faith. It takes faith to forgive, knowing we might be hurt again. It takes faith to make an honest confession free of excuses. With faith, we see that mercy is an ongoing miracle. The more we give mercy, the more we see that we need mercy. The more we see our need and ask for mercy, the more we receive. The more we receive, the more we are eager to share. It’s an ever-deepening cycle of joy and peace.
I hope to spend this year of mercy being gentler with myself and others. I intend to regularly recall that we all make mistakes, but we are all worthy of love. Then maybe instead of just a year, I’ll spend the rest of my days living in mercy.
Kathleen welcomes comments. Send them to Kathleen Choi, 1706 Waianuenue Ave., Hilo 96720, or email: kathchoi@hawaii.rr.com.
