Mercy, Mercy Me

Before our minister would agree to marry us, my husband (then fiancé) and I had to agree to pre-marital counseling. During one session we were both given a test to determine our Spiritual Gifts. I love all such tests and attacked mine with vigor. Hubby applied himself with his usual calm.

I was on the edge of my seat when the counselor scored them and gave us the results. I scored in the seventies on one gift (meaning I had little of it), in the mid-high eighties on two others and in the nineties on the fourth. I was pleased to share the results, especially in regards to my most prominent gift, since it provided scientific proof as to why hubby should listen to me carefully once we were married (didn’t turn out that way, oddly enough).

Then I looked at my guy and asked how he did. First he gave me the low scores, which were in the sixties to seventies in three of the four categories of that particular test. Then he gave me the high score: 100% in the category of Mercy.

When I saw his high score I felt a bit deflated, since my best score in any category was only in the low nineties. We’ll delve into the neurosis of why I would feel competitive over a spiritual gifts test another day. At the time I felt I had lost some race for spiritual giftedness. My disappointment must have shown on my face because hubby immediately began soothing me by pointing out how low he scored on all the others compared to me, in an attempt to make me feel better. Of course, he would try to make me feel better – he was 100% merciful.

I’ve thought of that test, and his giftedness in this area many times over the last thirteen years of marriage. I’ve seen him in a million different situations were he was the presiding judge over circumstances in friendships, family issues, our relationship and business dealings. Watching him has redefined my view of mercy significantly.

I suppose my view of mercy, pre-marriage, was weighted toward a tender, compassionate feeling that ignored facts in favor of avoiding confrontation and making everyone feel better. However, what I’ve seen in hubby over the years is an ability to see the facts, clearly and honestly discern the infraction, and brutally evaluate the cost of the infraction. No feelings of compassion or tenderness cloud his vision of the situation. Yet in the face of knowing exactly what is happening and exactly what it will cost, he can make a decision to show kindness and self-sacrifice in order to lift up the person who is hurting him.

His mercy differs from mine considerably – not because I am merciless, I am actually a huge defender of total forgiveness – but because I am driven to mercy for mercy’s sake, and I don’t weight injustices. That’s not wrong, just different. Hubby always knows the full weight of each injustice. His version of mercy is saturated with the precise, detailed knowledge of what wrongs were committed which are being forgiven. Now, in his mercy he does not harp on those facts, but he does account for them before the slate is wiped clean; the record expunged.

Regardless of how we approach mercy, any of us who’ve ever demonstrated it likely did so from the same basic revelation; we ourselves are in need of mercy. This is the revelation Jesus gives us over and over again in Scripture; from the parable of the “wicked servant” to the instruction to Peter of forgiving a brother even if his sins against us number “seventy times seven.” The one without sin – in other words, the one who needs no mercy – can cast the first stone, can choose to be merciless.

In His dealings with the woman with a twelve year infirmity, we see the power of mercy flow from Jesus without conscious effort on His part; because he was the express Image of God, or God’s real nature. God “delights to show mercy,” according to Micah 7:18. It makes God happy to forgive us, though He has a precise accounting of our errors and sins. The list of all my wrongs – down to the letter – were nailed to the cross of Christ and there paid by the God who alone had the right to cast a stone, but who instead bore the nails.

Mercy – extreme mercy – is an attribute of God. When we are merciful we are imitators of God. When we are unmerciful, we are heaping condemnation on ourselves for we are momentarily ignorant of the fact that we are in need of mercy and so must give it away.

“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy,” Matthew 5:7, NASB.