Always in need of mercy, I wanted to ponder a little more.
A person of mercy is one who’s had courage poured into all their cracked places. Mercy comes and goes as gift, but mercy is not cheap. It certainly isn’t easy. Mercy flows from a cross, from a sky turned black, from a Son who cried out My God, why have you abandoned me? Why? Why? Because of mercy. Some believe that mercy is for the weak. You could never look at the cross and believe such a thing.
Yet, mercy is for the weak. For the weak of will and weak of heart, weak of mind and weak of hope. For those weakened by sorrow and addiction and despair – mercy is for us. Thank God, mercy is for us.
And when we weak-ones are smothered in mercy, when it seeps into all the places where we are oh-so weak, we find a new strength given, a strength that is another mercy all its own. We discover we’ve been gifted the strength to love, to bear other’s sorrows, to enter the places where mercy most desperately wants to go. The merciful is he who has a sad heart, said St. Remiglius, because he counts other’s misery as his own.
To be a person of mercy is to welcome others into the healing power of friendship, to say to one just discovering all their cracks, you belong here, you are safe here, lay your burden down, and I’ll carry it for a stretch. Mercy.