Mercy: A Reflection
Mercy isn’t theoretical. It’s not something that exists at a distance, far removed from the messiness of real life. Mercy happens in the trenches, down where people are broken, hurting, and in desperate need of it.
For me, the incarnation of Jesus Christ is the ultimate display of mercy. It’s astonishing to think about: the holy, perfect God chose to live among His people—not just the righteous or the best of the best, but sinners. He didn’t come for the elite; He came for the broken.
In the Old Testament, God’s laws made a clear distinction between the clean and the unclean. Holiness was preserved by separation. Anything or anyone deemed unclean couldn’t be touched without transferring that impurity to the clean. But Jesus completely upended that system.
Instead of avoiding the unclean, Jesus reached out and touched them. And rather than their uncleanness defiling Him, His touch made them clean. The woman with the issue of blood, the lepers, the tax collectors, the adulterers, the prostitutes—all found healing, restoration, and dignity at His touch.
What made His touch so transformative? Mercy and compassion. Over and over again, Scripture tells us that when Jesus encountered the suffering, He was “moved with compassion.” Mercy wasn’t just something He gave; it was the very essence of His being.
But mercy isn’t safe. It gets you in trouble. It stirs up anger and resentment. Jesus was harshly criticized for eating with sinners, for associating with the outcasts of society. His response was simple yet profound: “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” He came to bring mercy to those who knew they needed it—the people who thought they were beyond hope, beyond love, beyond saving.
So how should the mercy of Jesus shape us? In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus declared, “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” That’s a powerful and sobering statement. It suggests that the mercy we receive from God is, in some way, tied to the mercy we show others.
If we recognize how deeply we need mercy and forgiveness, it should compel us to extend it freely to others. If we think we don’t need much, we’ll likely withhold it. For me, every time I reflect on that verse, I’m reminded that I need to give mercy in abundance—because I’ve received it in abundance.
May we never forget that mercy is messy, but it’s also beautiful. It steps into the brokenness, reaches out to the unworthy, and brings life where there was none. Let’s live as people who not only receive mercy but also freely give it—because the world desperately needs it.
