Friday, July 24, 2015

A Call to Divorce, Part 2 (cont'd): Blessed are the merciful

Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

Mercy is a quality that incorporates several elements.  One is to relent when it is within one’s power to punish.  Another is to be kind to the vulnerable and those in need.  When many pastors talk about God’s mercy in reference to God’s grace, they talk about mercy as “not receiving what we deserve” and grace as “receiving what we do not deserve.”  We see God’s love shown in things like sending the rain on the righteous and the unrighteous, which I will suggest is also an act of mercy.  While I may be conflating mercy and grace, I will include the idea of “giving what one has not earned by merit and is powerless to gain by his own action.”  Mercy, I believe, includes the notion of alms-giving.

Honestly, I believe this value is essentially present within American culture, although its application may be deficient.  We believe in helping the weak and powerless, we extend an invitation to the poor of other countries to come here to be free and successful, albeit a limited invitation into a system where they might not find the freedom or success they are offered.  At heart, we do as a nation value the concept of mercy.

Where we break down is that our mercy is generally shown in ways that will offer the least inconvenience to me and we are not inclined to show mercy to those who we perceive as a threat.  So if showing mercy means giving a few dollars to a homeless man on the street or even supporting a charity that works with the homeless we are likely to do it, but if it means opening my house to a homeless person we are not.  Similarly, if mercy means allowing people to immigrate here and work we might be likely to be in favor of it, but if it means allowing immigrants to compete for jobs in my field we are far less likely.  We will be merciful to those beneath us as long as they stay beneath us.

We are also more likely to show mercy to those who are on our side or who are completely separate from us (such as the poor of other nations) than we are to those who are in our world but somehow opposed to us.  That is, if a homeless man is in my town I am likely to see him as a nuisance, but if a homeless man is in a city that I am visiting I am likely to see him as one in need of mercy because he does not stand in opposition to my regular comfort.  If a friend or family member is in need, I am likely to help him because we share a bond of friendship or blood and are thus together in some sort of community.  But if someone, whether inside or outside my community, is adamantly opposed to my views (political, religious, ideological, or what have you) then I am likely to see him as an enemy and will seek to find a way to protect myself from him instead of seeing him as a candidate for receiving mercy.

We also have a strange relationship with those who are not of the lowest classes when we consider mercy.  We wonder how to show mercy to those in power, or even whether it is appropriate to show them mercy.  Is it good to extend kindness to the wealthy and to corrupt politicians, or to those whose beliefs lead them to do things we consider atrocious?  The marriage equality debate comes to mind.  One side often sees an oppressive regime squashing the rights of a minority community while the other sees a self-centered and sex-crazed minority trying to sink our country into depravity and damnation.  (There are as many sides of this particular debate as there are people in it, so please forgive the caricature of the “two sides.”)  Is it even right for those on one side to be merciful to the other when their desired aim appears so heinous?  If it is, how do we show that mercy?

Unfortunately, I fear that the nation as a whole might be better at mercy than the American church as a whole.  Yes, the Church has some wonderful examples of mercy that exceed anything the nation might offer and the nation has some hideous examples that exceed anything the Church might do.  But for the most part, the nation is more adept at practically showing mercy (which often includes tending to physical needs) than is the Church, which is often too focused on spiritual needs to consider the importance of meeting physical needs.  So I will offer a few things that might help to correct our view of mercy and help us to consider how we might be more merciful.

If mercy is essentially “giving to those in need” as I described in the first paragraph, then we can broaden our view of neediness.  An important doctrine of most of the Church throughout the world is the dignity of man.  Everyone is in need of being treated with dignity.  So when others are opposed to us, we can treat them with dignity.  This means that we do not demonize them and we do not make them into animals.  The person holding an opposing political view, even if it is a view that may threaten my rights or my comfort, is still a person worthy of dignity.  The homeless person begging on the street corner is still a person worthy of dignity.  The person who commits a crime is still a person worthy of dignity and not some wicked beast called a “criminal”.

Another helpful consideration might be the command to treat others as we would have them treat us.  Which of us would not like to be shown mercy when we mess up at work or in a relationship?  When we legitimately wrong someone, we tend to want that person to cut us slack, understand what led to the problem, and forgive us.  We can extend that same mercy to those who legitimately wrong us.  To take the example of crime, rather than seeing crime as a result of depravity and greed, we can understand that it is often done out of despair and lack of perceived options for survival.  A man might not be able to feed himself and his family on the job he is able to get, so he might steal or peddle drugs simply to make ends meet.  That understanding in itself is merciful, and it will shape our response to crime.

As for the question of whether it is always appropriate to show mercy, I would say yes.  However, I would add some caveats.  I can treat another person with dignity and understanding and still conclude that they shouldn’t do what they are doing.  A sex-trafficker, for instance.  (I’m talking about the people responsible for the trafficking, not the slaves who are being trafficked.)  There is no amount of mercy that will make that injustice excusable or understandable.  Those who are trafficking in slaves ought to be stopped and punished for what they’ve done.  And this is not a violation of mercy.  Similarly, the exploitation of the poor by the rich is unjust and should be stopped.  I can treat those doing it with dignity, recognizing their humanity with its dignity and its brokenness, by I can still only conclude that it is wrong and must be stopped.  This is also not a violation of mercy.  Perhaps it does not violate mercy because it elevates mercy for those who are most in need of it above those who are less in need of it.  I’m sure a great theologian has already explained this somewhere, but I am neither aware of where it has been treated nor myself a great theologian, so this is the best explanation I can offer.

A good guide for showing mercy to those in power is, in my opinion, Justin Martyr.  He entreated the emperor to stop killing Christians, which he explained as an unjust act.  In his Apology he explained what Christianity is and why it was not a threat to the empire.  He asked the emperor to reconsider his policy of killing Christians, essentially to repent and do the right thing.  He also warned that the emperor would be in danger of God’s judgment if he continued this oppression.

Perhaps the point of Justin Martyr’s example here is that we can be kind and gracious while also pointing out an injustice and working for its correction.  He did submit to the emperor by asking rather than insisting.  He did also warn him of the consequences of making the wrong choice.  It is notable, however, that the consequences mentioned were not the vengeance of Christians but the vengeance of Christ.  Justin continued in loving his enemy and not resisting an evil person despite the danger he was in.  He submitted to the persecution even while encouraging that the persecution end.  He did not die with declamations of injustice on his lips, but proclamations of the gospel.

I have neglected up to this point to rephrase the beatitude into an American beatitude, partially because it is so close to the original.  But if I must characterize it, it would be Blessed are the condescendingly merciful, for they shall be seen as good people.  Where the Church must depart from this is in its condescension.  We are called to consider all others as greater than ourselves, to become slaves to all, and we are also called to be merciful.  This means that our mercy will always be extended to those above us.  When I help the homeless man on the street, I am helping someone more worthy of honor than myself, not less worthy.  I do not have to dignify him, because he has been dignified by God.  I have only to recognize his dignity and to treat him accordingly.

As for the reward of our mercy in America and in the Kingdom, the Lord did not teach us to show mercy for the sake of our reputation. Often, quite apart from being seen as good people for showing mercy, we will be seen as weak or foolish or even hateful by some that see us.  But when we show mercy, we do not do it in order to receive the praise of men, but the mercy of our Father in heaven. So our mercy, while being of a similar nature to the world’s mercy, should exceed it in every good thing knowing that the reward for our mercy is infinitely greater than the highest praises of the world.

No comments:

Post a Comment