Mercy Triumphant

So speak and so act as those who are to be judged under the law of liberty.  For judgment is without mercy to one who has shown no mercy. Mercy triumphs over judgment. -- James 2:12-13

I was talking to someone recently who said that a certain prominent local Christian of our acquaintance had always looked down on him because he drank.  "You," he said, "never do that." 

I laughed and said it was only because I couldn't.  The truth is that we all have our weaknesses, and, as far as I have seen, there are no exceptions.  It does seem that some Christians do not view greed, jealousy, gluttony, or gossip in the same light as other, more flamboyant transgressions.  While Paul does emphasize the egregiousness of sexual immorality to the Church at Corinth (1 Corinthians 6:12-20), just a few paragraphs before (1 Cor. 5:9-12), he lists such immorality in equivalence with greed, swindling, drunkenness, and idolatry.  More importantly, perhaps, he cautions us against judging those outside the Body:  But now I am writing to you not to associate with anyone who bears the name of brother if he is guilty of sexual immorality or greed, or is an idolater, reviler, drunkard, or swindler—not even to eat with such a one.  For what have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?

My occasionally hard-drinking friend is not a church-goer.  God is dealing with him, and I will leave the judging of his life to the only righteous Judge.  For my part, I will encourage moderation.  And mercy.  Mercy has the advantage. 

It is true -- never doubt -- that we are always judging ourselves.  If I were to go to hell, it would be because I condemned myself to it.  There was a time when I could not have understood that, let alone accepted it.  I think I learned some of the lessons of mercy from my granddaughter.  At least dealing with her and the overwhelming, unconditional love I have for her made it clearer to me. 

When I was very young, probably half a century or so ago, Dad gave me a Jersey heifer calf.  She was light reddish brown with a white belly and white up on her sides a little.  She even had a triangle of white on her forehead pointing down toward her nose, and she turned out to be a pretty good milk cow.  Her calves helped put me through college, bought my second car and a motorcycle or two.  I had been reading some juvenile-oriented biography of one of the Pilgrim fathers -- probably William Bradford, I don't recall, who allegedly had a lamb which he named "Mercy".  That's what I named my calf.

Mercy has always had positive connotations for me.  I say it, ask for it, and need it -- a lot.  Patience, gentleness, meekness, humility, and many other virtues, I find quite evasive.  Mercy, alone, seems to come more easily.  Perhaps it is a gift, as Romans 12 lists among the gifts a person may be given "acts of mercy".  We are told specifically that in doing acts of mercy one should be happy and cheerful, almost as though cheerfulness were part of the virtue. 

We are merciful when we give someone what they do not deserve.  Sometimes we get this mixed up because we think of innocent people condemned to death who are reprieved by a call from the governor.  However, if the person is innocent, that is not mercy; it is justice.  Mercy is when the guilty are forgiven.  When we do not condemn those who have wronged us, when we spare those who would not spare us, when we are good to those who have hurt us, that is mercy. 

In me, the Lord has accepted the unacceptable.  He has pardoned and reprieved the culpable.  Through Christ, His mercy conquers the judgment and damnation I have so rightly earned.  How can I not be merciful?