MERCY:
Our modern use of this word seems to suggest surprise or an exchange of pleasantries – mercy me!Or we hear of asking for mercy, in the context of requesting leniency or kindness.
The nuance here has roots in the deeper reality of the word:
To request leniency means there has been an offense. A wrong-doing has happened, and by
Not just niceness because we choose to be nice:
Kindness in the face of someone whose actions deserve a response, that is in some way punitive.
Two things I’m going to note: these actions are the focus, not the person – we should always focus on issue, not character.
And, that mercy does not excuse the need for accountability. Inappropriate actions need to be addressed.
But these responses are to be appropriate, proportional, and corrective. They can be merciful.
But mercy: mercy extends beyond benevolence, as an intentional choice of action performed from a desire to relieve suffering.
We receive hints about this theme of mercy in the other scriptures:
As Amos is given the third of four prophetic visions of what could happen unless a change is made. This vision warns about the perils of in-fighting – the crookedness of the plumb line shows the crookedness of the community. And God wants to correct this unstable reality before it crumbles and falls – hence extending an invitation to return to the Lord through community: the unity of the collected people.
What mercy to intervene before it’s too late; to make neighbours of the guests.
The psalm evokes a legalistic setting, whereby the pray-er is asking for mercy on the earth. There’s a humbleness to the request for help from God; asking for mercy – acknowledging the human errors and seeking divine intervention for correction from God – in the midst of the council, granting judgement.
Again, seeking merciful intervention ahead of dire punishment.
The epistle continues the power of God’s merciful presence in our lives: we as people of faith have need of mercy; we have need of prayer; we have need of strength: this is why communities of with pray with and for each other – that we may “lead lives worthy of the Lord” – with humility, kindness, and God-given love. Again – doing the best we can each day not just for ourselves but for all of God’s people and God’s world.
Then, in the not-at-all-subtle Gospel passage, as we continue the Lukan travel narrative, mercy is our layover (if you will).
Mercy comes to us in the interaction between Jesus and the lawyer:
When we hear that the lawyer tests Jesus, but ends up being tested by Jesus – it’s a shift from what the lawyer was expecting.
And yet, the lawyer is so concerned about his own ego and reputation in the community, he continues with his line of questioning.
Now, in Jewish tradition, it is not uncommon for folks to question and debate over God’s words.
But we are told that this lawyer is not entirely engaging in that practice for deeper knowledge and understanding - We hear that he was “wanting to justify himself”… seemingly by discrediting Jesus.
Anytime someone tries to make themselves look good by making someone else look bad – there’s a problem. that’s not a positive stance, nor even a neutral one.
This could have gone off the rails rather quickly, as Jesus rightly could have called him out on this behaviour, but instead invites the narrative to a different direction: through the parable.
It’s a narrative we’re all familiar with: the Good Samaritan. It’s even become part of our social system – Good Samaritan laws protect those who are giving reasonable assistance to those in need – it presumes we’re all trying our best to help, and wants to reduce bystander inaction.
So: the Good Samaritan is passed by the lawyer and the priest – two folks who knew the limitations of the law of the day: touching someone unrelated to you was a big no-no.
Touching someone else’s blood or bodily fluids was also a no-no; one that could render you as ritually unclean in the community. It initiated an immediate quarantine situation: we all know how popular those can be.
And the lawyer and the priest were busy people: important people in the community, carrying out important work.
While their humanity may have been moved by the image of the injured man, they had extensive commitment to their own community, and likely weighed out the ability to help one person versus the commitment to help many within the community.
Until the Samaritan comes by.
And often, we hear about the Samaritan in a we/they dichotomy. One of THOSE people – the outsider, the come-from-away, the not-one-of-us.
It certainly heightens the teaching of Jesus.
Interesting thing, however: The Lukan travel narrative connects Samaritans as part of the Israelite people – not as Gentiles. So it’s not a we/they;
We’ve long presumed the injured man is one who is US – even though we don’t know that from the scriptures.
But we DO know that in Luke, the Samaritan is one who is US.
A distant cousin, perhaps, the family from the other side of the county, maybe – but US.
Hmm. That can add a nice layer of nuance in our perception of the lesson, can’t it?
And it can spur for us some bigger questions:
• Who is our THEY?
• Who do we deem outside *our* inner circle?
• Who have we not treated as neighbour?
These aren’t easy questions; they’ll take some reflection, some pondering, and some genuine soul-searching.
And the answers may inspire us to re-evaluate the role of mercy in our lives – as we seek it, and as we extend it.
But as we do that, let’s consider the weight of the word neighbour:
Because Jesus doesn’t quote the scriptures as saying “love your guests” – guests are here for a time, they are welcomed, they are wanted, it’s lovely.
But the scripture invites us- directs us even – to love our neighbours.
Neighbours are more and different than guest.
They are here to stay, we have deeper connections, we share more of ourselves as we encounter each other for longer periods of time.
Neighbours can be invited to our homes as guests – or not.
They may become friends with us – or not.
They may be folks with whom we share common interests – or not.
They may dress and speak like us – or not.
They may decorate how we would do – or not.
Whether our relationships with our neighbours are long-standing or new, are quirky or conventional, are terrific or tolerated - they remain our neighbours.
They are us: we are they.
Together, we are community:
Together, we are neighbours.
Together, we are to love.
Love your neighbour. As yourself.
For together, we are living in the neighbourhood of the Kingdom of God: where all are welcome.
So as we re-consider and re-frame what it means to have neighbours – and to be neighbours –
Let us delve deeper into our own expressions of mercy:
requested and received, and given.
Let’s remember the rejoice in the grace that God has shown us mercy:
And to hear the call to Go, and do likewise.
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