Mercy Matters. Mathew N. Schmalz
forgiven by his mercy.”4
Pope Francis offers extended reflections on mercy in Misericordiae Vultus, the Bull of Indiction proclaiming the extraordinary Jubilee Year.5 “Jesus Christ is the face of God’s mercy,” it begins.6 Mercy is what connects human beings and God, “opening our hearts to the hope of being loved forever despite our sinfulness.”7
Misericordiae Vultus surveys how mercy is discussed in Scripture. The “Great Hallel,” Psalm 136, speaks of God’s mercy “enduring forever,” and Jesus prayed this psalm when He and disciples went to the Mount of Olives.8 Throughout the Gospels, Jesus responds with mercy: He healed the sick; He fed the crowds who came to see Him; He called the tax collector and sinner, Matthew, to be one of His disciples.9 Jesus also spoke of mercy through parables, such as the story of the “ruthless servant” who has his own substantial debt forgiven but then refuses to forgive the debt of another servant who only owed him a few cents.10 In commenting that the first servant was put in jail by his master for this refusal, Pope Francis observes that mercy is the criterion by which the Father knows “who his true children are.”11
Pope Francis wants us to know that God’s mercy, expressed through Jesus Christ, is not abstract, but concrete. It is “visceral.”12 And it is in the life of the Church that mercy finds tangible expression. There are the sacraments: Jesus offers forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation; He offers us His very body and blood in the Eucharist. The Church recognizes and promotes corporal works of mercy: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, welcoming the stranger, healing the sick, visiting the imprisoned, and burying the dead.13 There are also spiritual works of mercy: counseling the doubtful, instructing the ignorant, admonishing sinners, comforting the afflicted, forgiving offenses, bearing patiently those who do us ill, and praying for the living and the dead.14
Beyond such formalized expressions, Pope Francis wants the Church to become an “oasis of mercy” for all, by eschewing the legalism that can so often characterize our discussions of the relationship between mercy and justice.15 In Scripture, Pope Francis reminds us, justice is primarily conceived as “the faithful abandonment of oneself to God’s will.”16 Jesus abandoned himself to the will of God, His Father, and reminded us, “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’”17
All of us are called to be “instruments of mercy” because we all have been shown mercy by God.18
What emerges in Misericordiae Vultus is a discussion of mercy that begins with the conventional connection between mercy and sin: that God loves sinners is in itself mercy. But Misericordiae Vultus also extends our understanding of mercy to include reaching out to others in their distress, particularly those whom society has marginalized. Mercy responds not just to human sin, but also to human need. Accordingly, to understand mercy is to see it at work throughout the complexity of human life. In proclaiming the extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy, Pope Francis is asking us to open ourselves to the diverse and varied experiences and expressions of mercy that touch all of us as human beings, in our relationship with God, and in our relationships with one another.
This book, Mercy Matters: Opening Yourself to the Life-Changing Gift, attempts to respond to Pope Francis’ call for us to appreciate the importance of mercy as a central theme in God’s love for us and in the life of the Church. An academic approach to understanding mercy would be careful to delineate precisely what mercy is not. But the approach taken here is different: it is designed to connect the experience and expression of mercy to other experiences and expressions of love and broaden our understanding of mercy’s life-changing possibilities.
Mercy is God’s loving response to sinners; and mercy is our loving response to others—and to ourselves—in circumstances of need. To this I would add that mercy, as an experience of love, has an unexpected quality—something unforeseen or unanticipated. We talk about mercy when we feel or offer forgiveness, when we find or give help and assistance, but we also speak about “mercy” when we are surprised by good deeds that catch us unawares and transform our lives. For the purpose of our discussion, mercy is love that responds to human need in an unexpected or unmerited way. Opening ourselves to the many ways mercy can touch and change us is the goal of this book.
Mercy Matters is divided into three overall sections: Mercy and Self, Mercy and Others, and Mercy and God.
“Mercy and Self,” the first part, considers what it means to personally experience mercy. Chapter One speaks of the mercy of grace that can radically transform a person’s life. Chapter Two addresses how mercy can lead to reconciliation in the long-term aftermath of bullying. Chapter Three argues for “letting go” as a mercy when caught in a seemingly intractable dispute with a loved one. Chapter Four examines what it means to be merciful and compassionate to yourself in a way that involves others.
“Mercy and Others,” the second part, considers how mercy connects us to one another. Chapter Five examines how mercy to others depends on freedom: both the freedom to give and the freedom to receive. Chapter Six considers how mercy relates to human dignity, particularly the dignity of those whom society stigmatizes. Chapter Seven reflects on the mercy of kindness in an unlikely friendship, and how kindness as mercy relates to fear and vulnerability. Chapter Eight considers how speaking the truth can be a mercy, even though it may seem to have harsh and dreadful consequences.
“Mercy and God,” the third and final part, considers how God’s mercy can be understood. Chapter Nine considers mercy as forgiveness through a discussion of the Boston bombing and its aftermath. Chapter Ten looks at the question of where God’s mercy can be found in the context of human suffering. Chapter Eleven reflects on what makes a death merciful beyond avoiding pain and suffering. Chapter Twelve concludes the volume by considering what mercy means when it comes to choosing life and dealing with a secret that could radically change the lives of others that we haven’t met.
In each and every chapter, I have drawn on my own personal experiences. The intent behind sharing my personal experiences is not to present them as somehow special or exemplary. Instead, my hope is that by sharing my own stories and experiences of mercy, others will be encouraged and empowered to share their own stories and experiences as well. Mercy Matters is structured to facilitate conversation and reflection. The stories are meant to provide a concrete context for considering how complex and sometimes confusing questions of mercy arise within our own lives and in the lives of others.
In presenting the stories in the way I have, I have tried to be honest about my own views but open-ended in framing discussion. Readers should feel free to disagree with how I have interpreted the issues that I have shared and put forward. Mercy Matters is not a textbook that defines what mercy is or should be. Instead, it is an invitation to reflect and discern the many ways God’s mercy can be made manifest for all of us.
Mercy Matters is a work of creative nonfiction. As nonfiction, all the experiences mentioned are “real”—they actually happened. The persons mentioned are also real—there are no composite or invented characters. I have, however, extensively used pseudonyms and a list of specific pseudonyms used in each chapter can be found at the end of the book. I have also taken care to preserve privacy by being deliberately vague about locations and potentially identifying details of certain persons: this is particularly the case in Chapters Two, Five, Seven, Eight, Nine, and Twelve.
The creative aspect of the book is reflected in how I have streamlined and simplified the narrative so that the chapters flow more smoothly. For example, a full account of my high school reunion in Chapter Two would necessarily include a discussion of how I arrived with the high school friends who invited me—but I do not mention them or that aspect of the evening so that I can keep the focus on my meeting with Zach. In Chapter Five,