Lord, Have Mercy

Luke 6:36; Psalm 145:9; Matthew 5:7

The Fifth Beatitude is the simplest to see in terms of simple dynamics—to get something, be something—to receive mercy, be merciful. 

And that could well be the place to just end this sermon. There is nothing left to say.

But you and I know, I can’t do that—there is some explanation needed. There are some practical questions to answer. We have issues.

The main issue with the Fifth Beatitude is that it is counterintuitive in our context, a time and place driven by self—self-focus, self-aggrandizement, self-gratification, and all the other manifestations of pop proclamation of the material gospel of our time. Of course, it would be ludicrous to argue that people will openly and directly refute the goodness of mercy. List it as an attribute, and no matter what crowd you are in, there will “amen, amen,” to its inclusion on the list. You will also readily encounter wonderful examples of the practice of mercy—the current ebola epidemic offers numerous stories of brave, compassionate people entering the afflicted zones to care for the suffering. Closer to home, many of us gathered this morning seek to practice mercy. We announced the soup kitchen opportunity this week, and there is already a crew forming to serve the meal; Family Promise will visit in a couple of weeks, and the volunteer board is nearly full of those willing to practice welcome; we have our troop of GAP Ministry volunteers caring for the poor; we have folks who visit the ailing; and on goes our list of the merciful—we are a church, after all, it is what one expects of us. So, obviously, this message this morning is not so much about what happens inside these walls, but rather about confronting a world all to ready to leave us to it without being open to some rather fundamental shifts in outlook and practice. I mean, a world wherein there is a “serious” art exhibit of celebrity “selfies” (The New York Times, Oct. 24, 2014) may be all too ready to leave mercy to someone else. 

And here is where the pavement meets the tires, so to speak.

Jesus did not come for a select few. He did not come to gather a small, elite corps, akin to a spiritual Navy Seals, to redeem. He came for the world. He came to radically alter, transcend, and transform all human existence. His true end is a world wherein there are no soup kitchens, for there would no need for them. His true purpose is to eliminate the need for GAP and Family Promise altogether. His true intent is to awaken every human heart to the presence of every other human heart in such a way that God’s shalom—God’s total peace—can descend on all creation. 

Therefore, this community of faith—and the larger fellowship of Jesus it is a representative body of—is continually called to enter the world, not simply to serve the needs of the neediest of all, find the lost, and salve the pain of all those trampled by the flow of world history, but rather to radically become instruments of deep and lasting change, bringing the Kingdom of God to reality here and now.

And once again we confront the full reality of Jesus’ blessings—there is always—always—a lot more to them than meets the eye. Those blessings invariably come with a call—go and do likewise.

So, now comes that practical piece—how in the world do we shoulder this work?

Something Jesus repeatedly emphasized was the need to start small. Repeatedly, he compared the Kingdom of God to some of the smallest things any one of us will ever encounter—a mustard seed, nearly invisible yeast, an iota (a single small slash of ink)—that, as they get multiplied again and again, grow into that creation altering power and presence so glorified in our traditions. 

What that means is that we continue to do what we do as we do it. Keep serving in the community as you always have. But invite a friend to join you, someone here who has not yet participated, or someone from the neighborhood you just like spending time with. With each new participant, the Kingdom grows. The more people who actively engage in the work of mercy, the deeper mercy flows through the world.

What it also means is that we mindfully go about our regular work and interaction with the world. How do you wait in line? Patiently or impatiently? Alter, if needed. How do you treat people who serve some of your most basic needs? As actual human beings or part of the furniture? Alter as needed. Each little interaction carries weight. Seeds are planted. What grows as they take root? Pay attention. 

Furthermore, we cannot limit our vision to the things we are already doing. Yes, everything we do is valuable and meaningful, but what more can be done? Where are places in our community we have not yet tapped? Schools in need of mentors? Apartment complexes in need of recreation outlets? (one of our neighboring churches made sure there was a gate in the fence so apartment children could easily enter their playground) Neighborhoods needing redevelopment? Keep your eyes open, anywhere can suddenly become a cathedral for Christ’s mercy. 

With each new vista opened, with each new gathering touched, and with a simple change in attitude, Kingdom seeds take root. As they grow, as they are tended and kept healthy, the world can change. 

There is a final caveat to consider, though.

Do not lose the trees before us while trying to see the forest. What I mean is that it is easy to see only the world as it is, dismissing the more local transformations that work. There is no deadline to meet in the work of mercy. There is no goal sheet to try and fill. No one will be evaluating our progress. Instead, in mercy, God walks with the merciful as they make their attempts to practice mercy. God is patient, kind, encouraging, and ever-provident for all who make the effort to put mercy into play. Keep mindful of what you can actually do and be. Then, work there. God is with you.