The problem with mercy

 



Photo of a statue of Kwan Yin, Buddhist bodhisattva of mercy and compassion, against a cloudy sky. She holds her right hand posed in the Varada mudra (generosity, charity, and compassion) and her left hand holds a sacred vase filled with the nectar of wisdom, mercy, and compassion that she slowly pours out to humanity.




In the verse just before this week’s gospel reading, Jesus asks the question, “And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?” So, the folx I was planning worship with, we asked one another “What is the opposite of faith?” We all acknowledged that doubt is a healthy component of faith; also, that emotions such as fear and despair are part of the human experience. Yet in true rabbinic fashion, Jesus answers his own question with the verse that begins our reading for today. The opposite of faith is trusting solely in oneself as righteous and regarding others with contempt.



Based on that set-up for the parable, it sounds like Jesus is talking about the Pharisee. Throughout Luke’s gospel, Pharisees are portrayed as hypocrites, self-righteous, and judgmental, and in this story the Pharisee appears to be no different. But the parable is addressed to Jesus’ disciples, part of an assemblage of teachings and stories, what one might call leadership training. After all, if you’re going to hang out with Jesus, you’re going to be spending a lot of time with the people Jesus hangs out with. Which pretty much sums up the purpose, values, and mission of what the Church is called to be.



Back to our story. Once again, let’s do away with our negative assumptions about the Pharisees. For far too long those assumptions have stoked and spread antisemitism not only in Christianity but in our culture as well. So it’s up to Christians like us to speak up against such assumptions and frankly, poor Biblical interpretation.



Poster with a photo of Bishop Gene Robinson and his quote: "It's funny, isn't it? That you can preach a judgmental and vengeful and angry God and nobody will mind. But you start preaching a God that is too accepting, too loving, too forgiving, too merciful, too kind...and you are in trouble." FreedHearts.org




This Pharisee isn’t just righteous, he’s super-righteous, to the point of being unrealistic. Fasting was reserved for mourning, repentance, and personal discipline but through the Hebrew scriptures God desires that humankind enjoy the goodness of creation and be thankful. As for tithing, no one was expected to give a tenth of everything. This Pharisee is hyperbole, a super saint, one of those who believe that what’s yours is yours and what is theirs is also yours.



As for his prayer, it can also be read with the tone of “there but for the grace of God go I”. How we read this prayer may say more about us than about the Pharisee. It is all too human to pray “God, I thank you that I am not like other people” when faced with those we find repugnant. We may then want to ask ourselves why we find them repugnant. The Pharisee on the other hand is speaking about those people who have chosen not to follow the Torah, which according to scripture makes life that much more difficult. Psalm 119 is a lengthy prayer—176 verses—that sounds much like this Pharisee: “Happy are those whose lives are faultless, who live according to the law of the Lord. Happy are those who follow God’s commands, who obey God with all their heart.”



And so, when the Pharisee says, “even this tax collector”, perhaps now we can hear pity in his voice. Tax collectors were reviled not only because they were corrupt but because they worked for the Roman occupation. It is the tax collector, not the Pharisee, who stands at a distance from everyone else who is praying in the temple, because he knows, he knows how his fellow Jews feel about him. And yet he does not allow his shame to keep him from his rightful place in his relationship to God. He puts himself in God’s care by admitting his sin and asking for mercy. The Pharisee and the tax collector are brothers in the faith, one super righteous, the other a repentant sinner. Truly, this story needs to be read in light of one of Luke’s other parables, the parable of the Prodigal Son.



At the conclusion of that story, we read that the father, or the mother, or the parent or guardian, wants both children to come to not just dinner but a banquet to celebrate one who was lost is now found, one who was thought dead is now alive. The one who exalted himself by lifting up his own faithfulness was humbled by his father’s forgiveness of his brother and the son who abased himself by offering himself as a servant was exalted by his father’s mercy. Both were justified, that is, restored to right relationship by the love and forgiveness of their father.



But what about this story? It ends with the tax collector being justified rather than the Pharisee. One could say that the Pharisee does not need to be restored to right relationship with God; he’s already there. But how is it that the tax collector is restored when we do not see any evidence that he will change his ways? We know God’s mercy is generous, but is there such a thing as being too merciful?



The problem with mercy is that it upsets the zero-sum game upon which most of our nation’s culture is based. In the zero-sum game there is a winner and a loser, us and them, more for you means less for me. In a zero-sum game you can’t forgive student debt because if debtors are now winners, somehow that means that those who paid off their student debt are chumps, losers. In a zero-sum game everything is a competition and it all must be earned with those bootstraps we were all issued at birth. In a zero-sum game everything is a binary. Racism is a zero-sum game, White supremacy, sexism, gender. You can’t have a level playing field in a zero-sum game. If someone is going to lose, they have to deserve to lose. The death penalty is a zero-sum game, revenge, nuclear war, war of any kind. Capitalism is a zero-sum game, colonizing, empire. It’s all about power. The zero-sum game is the end of humanity because there is no humanity, no mercy in it.



I am now serving on the board of directors of Friendship House and yesterday I attended my first meeting. The director of the clothing bank shared with us a success story but it wouldn’t have happened without an abundance of mercy. A young woman who was trying to get clean was accepted into the transitional housing program, but she relapsed and was expelled from the program. After some time in detox, then in a different program, and in jail again, just before her release she applied to Friendship House and was accepted again. But as she put it, “Life happens…and sometimes we don’t make the right decisions. Especially when we’re trying to get our life back under control. Because in recovery we don’t have a blueprint that guides us in the right path.” She broke one of the house rules and had to move out again.



After a couple of weeks, she was able to get into a sober living house. She called the director of the clothing bank and asked if she could have her job back. She was welcomed with open arms. Never before had she felt so supported, cared for, valued, loved. Now she says she’s unstoppable.



When we pray, we pray “Our loving God, give us, lead us, forgive us our sins”, in solidarity with each other, voicing the reality that in community we are responsible for each other. Mercy for me does not mean less mercy for you. More mercy for you does not mean less mercy for me. Our God is a generous merciful God and forgives us that we may forgive others, that we would be generous.



Post from Tumblr by @queerspacepunk that reads: "I want to be asked to come over and help put my friend's kid to bed as casually as they might text their spouse and ask them to pick up milk on the way home.  I want to stop and pick up milk for another friend because I know their spouse hates the grocery store. I want to buy fruit I don't like because it's on special and I know people who do. I want to pass lemons over the fence and to take my neighbours bins out when they forget. I want group chats instead of rideshare apps, calls in the middle of the night because someone's at the hospital, lonely or hungry or both. I want to do the dishes in other people's houses, extra servings wrapped in tinfoil and tea towels so it's still warm when you drop it off, a basket of other people 's mending by my couch. I want to be surrounded by reminders that 'imposing' on each other is what we were born to do."




What would it look like for our church to be merciful? Some folx are working on becoming communities of mutual aid, and I think that this church has been moving in that direction since its beginning. It was Ram Dass who said we’re all just walking each other home, but in truth we’re all carrying each other home. Perhaps it’s hard for us to think of carrying other people but then at some point I can promise you someone has carried you, maybe even without your knowing it. That’s the problem with mercy. None of us can really and truly live without it. Because God wants us all to make it.




Benediction – Dr. Kent Keith, popularized by Mother Teresa



“Anyway: The Paradoxical Commandments”



People are often unreasonable,
illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind,
people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful,
you will win some false friends and true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank,
people may cheat you;
Be honest anyway.

What you spend years building,
someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness,
they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today,
people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have,
and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.

You see, in the final analysis,
it is between you and your God;
It was never between you and them anyway.


Poster of the text of the benediction above.


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