Chapter 14 of 22

The Merciful

The Merciful

7

The Merciful

The Roman world did not admire mercy. Romans admired justice, courage, self-control, and wisdom—but not mercy. The philosophers called mercy “a disease of the soul,” something to be abhorred and ashamed of if you expected to be a success. Slaves were treated as disposable property, and the position of women and children was far from ideal. If a woman gave birth to a daughter or a sickly son, the father had the option of rejecting the child and having it exposed to die. A temperamental master could, in a fit of anger, maim or even kill a slave. An enemy was an enemy, and the best enemy was a dead enemy.

Jesus Christ and the gospel began to change all of that. Jesus taught and practiced mercy, and He commanded His followers to show mercy. But when Jesus and His followers practiced mercy, it was a revelation of power, not weakness. Instead of being a sickness of the soul, mercy is the health of the Christian experience.

Our world today is not far removed spiritually from the Roman world in which Jesus gave the Beatitudes. People are still treated like things, power is the supreme deity, and financial success is the most important thing in life. How can a person practice mercy in a competitive society? Yet this is exactly what Jesus commands us to do.

God’s Mercy

According to theologians, God has two kinds of attributes: absolute and relative. The absolute attributes describe what God is like in Himself, totally apart from His creation. God is love even if there are no human beings around to know about it. God is truth, and God is holy. These are essential characteristics of His being. But when God created humans, He had to “translate” these attributes into His relationship with them, and so we have what theologians call the “relative attributes.” Truth becomes faithfulness, holiness becomes justice, and love becomes grace and mercy. Mercy is one of the spiritual bridges God has built so that He can relate to you and me, and mercy is a bridge you and I must build if we are going to relate lovingly to others.

God’s mercy and grace grow out of His love. Nobody is saved because God loves him or her, for God loves the whole world. Sinners are saved because of God’s grace and mercy, His love in action. It is easy to remember the difference between grace and mercy. God in His grace gives me what I do not deserve. In His mercy He does not give me what I do deserve. In one sense, grace is positive whereas mercy is negative, although this should not be carried too far. “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed” (Lamentations 3:22 KJV). “The Lord was merciful to [Lot and his family]” (Genesis 19:16). “Lord, have mercy on my son” (Matthew 17:15). It is mercy that pities and grace that pardons.

There are several factors involved in this experience of mercy. It begins with pain; somebody hurts us unjustly, and we must respond to this hurt. If we have no power, then all we can do is give in, but if we have the powers to retaliate, then we must decide what to do. You cannot show mercy unless you have the power to hurt. Suppose the person deserves to be hurt. Suppose the offense against us is so serious that we feel we must teach the offender a lesson. We have the powers to hurt that person back. Should we use them? At this point love enters the picture, not to cancel truth, but to control it. We are hurt; we have the powers and (we believe) the right to hurt the one who hurt us. But because of God’s love, we show mercy; we do not give the offender what he or she deserves. This demands faith; we must leave the offender and offense in the hands of God. “Do not take revenge, my friends” (Romans 12:19). What is the result of this painful experience? Growth! We share in the fellowship of his sufferings (Philippians 3:10) and become more like Him.

These, then, are the links in the chain of mercy: pain, power, truth, love, faith, and growth. We suffer because of another’s sin, but we choose to use our power for growth instead of retaliation. It is the act of faith that shows the mercy that converts pain into spiritual growth. It is love that makes us want to exercise this faith; it is the Holy Spirit within who gives us this love.

It is an awesome thought that when I show mercy, I am practicing one of the attributes of God. Mercy puts me in the place of God in somebody’s life. The Beatitudes begin with the right attitude toward myself—poor in spirit. The next step is a right attitude toward my sin—I mourn. Then, a right attitude toward God’s Word—“Blessed are the meek.” This creates within me a deep desire for God’s righteousness, and He gives it to me when I trust Christ. The first three Beatitudes are preparation for the miracle of the fourth when we, by faith, receive the righteousness of God. And, having received His righteousness, we then begin to be like God: “Blessed are the merciful.” “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children” (Ephesians 5:1). Having received His divine nature, we begin to manifest His divine attributes, and mercy is one of His attributes.

Human Mercy

Perhaps the best way to understand mercy is to see it in action.

Our first example is in Genesis 14, the story of Abraham’s courageous rescue of his nephew Lot. To begin with, Lot had no business in Sodom. If he had been a spiritually minded man, he would have walked with Abraham and obeyed the Lord. But he decided to move into Sodom. When enemy kings attacked Sodom, Lot had to suffer the consequences. He and his family were taken captive, and all their possessions were confiscated. When word got to Abraham, the patriarch immediately gathered his servants and, with the help of God, went to battle and rescued Lot. That was an act of mercy. Abraham could have said, “Well, the young man is stubborn and didn’t know when he was well-off. Let him stew in his own juice!” Hadn’t Abraham given Lot first choice of the land? Hadn’t Lot’s choice been a foolish one? Then why rescue him? Because it was the merciful thing to do for a brother (Genesis 14:16). Abraham had the power to hurt Lot and certainly Lot had hurt Abraham, yet in faith and love Abraham chose to show mercy. In the New Testament, Abraham is honored as the great man of faith, and rightly so. But faith plus love equals mercy, and Abraham had all three.

A second example is Joseph. If your brothers treated you the way Joseph’s brothers treated him, what would you do to them once they were under your power? They had lied about him, caused him to suffer, and sold him as a slave. Most of them even wanted to kill him! But now the tables were turned: The brothers were bowing before the prime minister of Egypt—Joseph—and he had the power to hurt them. What a temptation! Joseph faced two great temptations in his life, and in both instances he came out victorious. Potiphar’s wife tempted him to commit a sin of the flesh, but he fled from her and kept himself pure. His brothers tempted him to commit a sin of the spirit—he could have taken vengeance upon them—but instead he went off and wept and then came back and showed mercy. To be sure, Joseph so dealt with his brothers that he was sure their hearts were changed before he openly forgave them, but even this was an evidence of his mercy. Joseph was neither a prodigal son nor an elder brother; he did not yield to either a sin of the flesh or a sin of the spirit. Instead, he was like Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who prayed, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know not what they are doing” (Luke 23:34).

Our third example of true mercy is David, the man after God’s own heart—and therefore the man who revealed God’s own heart. David was the true anointed king of Israel, even though Saul was still exercising power to persecute David and his men. On two occasions David had Saul in his power and could have killed him (1 Samuel 24, 26), but he refused to do so. Instead, he showed mercy. Some of David’s men wanted him to kill their enemy; they argued that God had brought Saul into their power. But David knew that his real power was not in killing but in showing mercy. In fact, when Saul finally was killed, David sang a lamentation and made no mention whatsoever of Saul’s hatred toward him (2 Samuel 1:17–27). “Your glory, O Israel, lies slain on your heights. How the mighty have fallen!” (v. 19).

In each of these instances, there were both pain and the power to retaliate. But there was also “faith expressing itself through love” (Galatians 5:6), and this resulted in mercy. The act of mercy put the one showing mercy on the throne, for it was Abraham who was in control, not Lot; it was Joseph and David who reigned in life, not their persecutors. We might add that Joseph’s experience of mercy made life happier and easier for his brothers, and they reigned in life with him. When you show mercy, it not only helps you to grow and reign, but it also helps others. If, like Saul, others refuse the mercy that you offer, then God will judge them. If, like Joseph’s brothers, they accept mercy, God will bless them. The choice is theirs, not ours.

Mercy and the Cross

The greatest example of one showing mercy is, of course, the Lord Jesus Christ. How simple it would have been for Him to answer His enemies with deeds of judgmental power instead of words of grace. The intensity of their opposition increased the closer He came to Calvary, and yet the strength of His mercy matched the intensity of their hatred. It is not that in His mercy He refused to expose His enemies’ sins; the sermon in Mathew 23 is proof enough that mercy does not sweep the dust under the rug. When the chief priests and rulers had Him arrested, they gave Him in that act a glorious opportunity to avenge Himself. Had He done so, nobody would have criticized Him. Instead, He willingly submitted to the mob and rebuked His impetuous disciple. “Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels?” (Matthew 26:53).

We see in Jesus Christ the fulfillment of Psalm 85:10 (KJV): “Mercy and truth are met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other.” He knew and even exposed the truth about sinners, and yet He showed mercy to them. The feeble mercy that cultured people show to each other is usually based on ignorance or deception. “If we knew all we would forgive all,” is their motto. Or, “I am just as sinful as you are, so I will show mercy to you because you will show mercy to me.” Although it is better than nothing, the humanistic approach to mercy falls far short of the divine ideal.

Jesus showed mercy, yet He certainly could not plead either ignorance or sin. Jesus “did not need man’s testimony about man, for he knew what was in a man” (John 2:25). “Can any of you prove me guilty of sin?” (John 8:46). He was able to show mercy because of His work on the cross. It was there that mercy and truth met together and righteousness and peace kissed each other. His death at Calvary was a testimony to the truth that we are sinners, and yet it was also a triumph over sin in that it opened up the fountains of the mercy of God. There is a “judgment without mercy” (James 2:13), but it is not at Calvary. On the cross, there was judgment with mercy.

This fact suggests that you and I, if we are not discerning, can practice a kind of counterfeit mercy that denies truth and righteousness and does not lead to peace. Perhaps this is the kind of mercy that David showed Absalom when he excused Absalom for killing his brother, Amnon, thus sowing the seeds of rebellion in the boy’s heart. David’s mourning over Absalom’s death is one of the most poignant scenes in all literature, but nothing could have changed Absalom’s character, let alone his tragic destiny. Whenever mercy is extended, it must be on the basis of truth, and David’s mercy toward his son was not on that basis. There is no record that Absalom ever repented (that is where the truth comes in) or that David ever encouraged him to repent (that is where righteousness comes in). The whole transaction was shallow and sentimental, not spiritual. We have too many transactions of the same tragic character in our churches today.

Another example of counterfeit mercy is Ahab’s treatment of Ben-Hadad, a rival king (1 Kings 20:32). Ordered to slay the enemy king, Ahab spared him in what seemed to be a great act of mercy. But mercy and truth did not meet that day, and the result was not righteousness or peace. The result was sin and war. Ahab spared his enemy in order to feed his own ego and become a great hero. He gave no thought to the will or glory of God.

To extend mercy means to withhold judgment. Mercy means that God does not give us what we deserve. But there can be no true mercy apart from justice; somebody simply has to pay the price for sin. This is where the cross comes in: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree” (1 Peter 2:24). God forgives us and shows us mercy on the basis of His Son’s sacrifice, and we show mercy to others on that same basis. Were it not for Calvary, mercy and truth could never meet together, and righteousness and peace would never result.

“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). Of what were they ignorant? Of the person against whom they were sinning, for one thing. “Now brothers, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did your leaders” (Acts 3:17). They were also ignorant of the enormity of their sin. They were rejecting God and making Him suffer! Ignorance does not remove guilt, but it could mitigate the sentence. Our Lord’s prayer for the nation did not automatically result in the personal forgiveness of all those who had been involved in His arrest and crucifixion. But it did postpone God’s judgment and give the nation another opportunity to repent. That is mercy.

It is the cross that makes mercy available to us and through us. We must never extend mercy on the basis of our own “spirituality” but rather on the basis of His finished sacrifice. If the mercy we show bypasses the cross, then it also bypasses truth and righteousness, and it can never lead to peace. “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving” (James 3:17). “Peace at any price” is never a basis for mercy. “Making peace through his blood, shed on the cross” (Colossians 1:20) is the only true basis for mercy. How can we tell the one from the other in actual practice? Counterfeit mercy always inflates the ego of believers, but true mercy humbles them and gives God the glory.

Experiencing Mercy

You cannot extend mercy until you have received it. Mercy is not a quality natural to humans; it must be received as a gift from God. “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy” (Titus 3:5). But the receiving of mercy cannot be a mere commercial transaction between God and me; I must experience it in my heart. The problem with the unmerciful servant in Christ’s parable (Matthew 18:21–35) was that he looked upon the king’s mercy as something that could have been earned if only there had been time enough to work. “Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay you all!” The man was never really broken by the debt of his sins, and therefore his attitude was that of a prankster who had been let off the hook and not of a rebel who had been delivered from death. He received mercy in a commercial manner; he did not experience mercy in a spiritual manner. For this reason he was unable to extend mercy to his fellow worker, who owed him a paltry sum when compared with his own debt.

The need to experience mercy may help to explain the Lord’s Supper. Most of us want to forget the death of a loved one, yet Jesus wants us to remember His death. Why? In coming to the Lord’s Supper, we must first examine ourselves (1 Corinthians 11:28), and that means to be confronted with mercy and truth. We must confess the truth about ourselves and then claim His mercy in forgiveness. We do not come to the Lord’s Table to remember our sins; we come to remember Christ. But we cannot eat or drink in a worthy manner if we do not tell the truth to God and ourselves. The broken bread and the cup remind us of the mercy of God. “Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and the Lord your God redeemed you” (Deuteronomy 15:15). The Christian never says with the worldly sentimentalist, “I am a sinner; therefore, I can show mercy to you.” Rather, the Christian says, “I am a forgiven sinner, and because I have experienced mercy and truth at Calvary, I can extend mercy to you.” Sins committed can never be the fountain for mercy. It is when sins are forgiven that “mercy and truth are met together.”

But salvation is only the beginning; there must also be submission. Have you ever noticed that Romans 12 begins with surrender and ends with “Do not take revenge, my friends” (v. 19)? Being a “living sacrifice” means living the sacrifice of Christ. It was while their persecutors were crucifying Him that He prayed, “Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.” Romans 12 does not stop with verse 2! It goes on to say, “Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse . . . Do not repay anyone evil for evil . . . Do not take revenge, my friends . . . Do not be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:14, 17, 19, 21). David knew that it was not his privilege to exercise vengeance, so he left Saul in the hands of God. David showed mercy. Because he was submissive to the will of God, he was able to “leave room for” the wrath of God (Romans 12:19).

Besides salvation and submission, there is a third essential that we must possess if we are going to extend mercy, and that is suffering. When mercy and truth meet together, the result has to be suffering. Those extending mercy suffer because they experience the hurt caused by their enemy, and those receiving mercy suffer as they realize what they have done and repent of their sin. Whenever you are dealing with sin, there is going to be pain. But the experience of mercy heals the wounds and turns the suffering into joy.

This principle is illustrated in John 8, where the Pharisees burst into our Lord’s morning message and confront Him with the woman taken in the act of adultery. The record indicates that there are several ways to deal with sin. There is the way of Moses, the way of the law. “In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women” (John 8:5). Law can never cleanse; it can only condemn. It cannot give power to keep from sinning; it can only inflict judgment after sin has been committed. Jesus rejected that way.

A second way to deal with sin is the human way: Find the sinner, expose the sinner, and even use the sinner to accomplish your own selfish purposes—in other words, play God. Jesus dealt with this egotistical approach in one simple sentence: “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her” (John 8:7).

If Moses’ way is rejected, and if the human way is not accepted, then what is left? The Master’s way. “ ‘Then neither do I condemn you,’ Jesus declared. ‘Go now and leave your life of sin’ ” (John 8:11). Notice that Jesus did not deny the fact of sin. He knew the woman was a sinner, and she knew that she was a sinner. But mercy and truth met together that morning, and the result was a forgiven sinner. But think of what that forgiveness cost Jesus. Think of how His holy soul was pained by the woman’s sin and by the self-righteous judgment of the religious leaders. And think of the suffering He would endure on the cross to make her cleansing possible. There can be no mercy without suffering, no pardon without pain.

Vindictive, defensive Christians are protecting themselves; merciful Christians are making themselves vulnerable. In the parable of the Good Samaritan, the priest and the Levite hurried past the half-dead traveler and saved themselves suffering and danger. (After all, those same robbers might still be around!) But the Good Samaritan made himself vulnerable; he deliberately exposed himself to suffering so that he might show mercy and escape suffering. But the suffering we experience is not destructive; it is the fellowship of his sufferings (Philippians 3:10). Some of David’s greatest psalms came out of his painful experiences with Saul and Absalom. Some of your greatest songs will be born the same way.

Extending Mercy to Others

“Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.” What does it mean to obtain mercy? Certainly it does not mean that we earn mercy because we extend mercy, for such an idea is foreign to the Word of God. By its very definition, mercy cannot be earned any more than grace can be earned. The Beatitude is saying that when you experience and share mercy, then your heart is in such a condition that you can receive more mercy to share with others. In other words, Jesus is not asking us to be merciful occasionally; He is asking us to be constant channels of mercy. “Give, and it will be given to you” (Luke 6:38). By extending mercy, we open our hearts to receive mercy; having received, we can share again and again.

Christians are surrounded by mercy. We can say, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life” (Psalm 23:6 KJV). When we look ahead, we remember the words of Jude 21—“Wait for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ to bring you to eternal life.” As we begin each new day, we can say, “It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22–23 KJV).

It is a basic fact of theology that God responds to us on the basis of the condition of the heart. “With the merciful You will show Yourself merciful; With a blameless man You will show Yourself blameless; With the pure You will show Yourself pure; And with the devious You will show Yourself shrewd” (Psalm 18:25–26 NKJV). Jacob was a schemer and a fighter, so God had to wrestle with him and break him before He could bless him. Peter was an impetuous self-sufficient man, so Jesus had to let him plunge into denial and defeat before He could make him a success. When once we begin to cultivate one of the spiritual graces, God always provides more. When we show mercy, He gives mercy, and thus we have more mercy to show.

When we Christians show mercy, we experience liberation. We are set free from grudges that drain the strength and unsettle the mind. The unmerciful servant in the parable (Matthew 18:21–35) put himself and his family into prison because he could not forgive a friend. The most miserable prison in the world is the prison we make for ourselves when we refuse to show mercy. Our thoughts become shackled, our emotions are chained, and the will is almost paralyzed. But when we show mercy, all of those bonds are broken, and we enter into a joyful liberty that frees us to share God’s love with others. This blessing of freedom is one way that we receive mercy as we show mercy. It is a blessed by-product of obeying God.

You can be sure that there will always be opportunities to show mercy. We never grow out of this privilege. But what a glorious experience it is! How thrilling it is to go through life sharing God’s mercy and not having to judge people to see if they are “worthy” of what we have to offer. We stop looking at the externals and begin to see people through the merciful eyes of Christ. Every Christian we meet is a person in whom Jesus lives; every lost soul we meet is a person for whom Jesus died. In both cases, we have candidates for God’s mercy.

The only way God could get His mercy to this world was through His Son. The Son of God had to become flesh before mercy and truth could meet together. It is the same today; mercy in the abstract means nothing—it must always be incarnate in human flesh. The evasive lawyer wanted Jesus to discuss the abstract question of “Who is my neighbor?” But Jesus forced him to see one half-dead stranger at the side of the road and one hated alien who showed mercy to that stranger. The world cannot see mercy apart from the people who experience it and share it.

You and I are to be those people.

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