May’s Theme: Mercy

By Rev. Barbara Prose

Many years ago, I had a car accident.

I was driving home after my morning swim at the YWCA in Tulsa, OK, around 7:30 in the morning, when a car crashed into the driver’s side of my Prius. I was stunned and didn’t move, as I tried to understand what had just happened. My airbags had deployed and there was broken glass at my feet. 

I looked up to notice a woman coming towards my car, asking if I was okay. Her care and concern moved me out of my seat, into the street. Later, sitting in the grass, by the side of the intersection, I was horrified to learn that I was the one who had gone through a red light. The two young children standing near me had been in the other car, and could have been hurt, if not killed, by my mistake. Despite my error, their lives were spared. Despite my error, their mother was concerned for my well-being, an act of mercy and grace, I will never forget.

Did I deserve her mercy? Not at all.   

Mercy is often at odds with justice.

Justice means each person receiving their due, while mercy means withholding a merited punishment. One can’t have mercy on someone who has done no wrong, since that would simply be giving them their due. Mercy isn’t especially fair and makes us feel uncomfortable because it registers as inegalitarian and arbitrary. Justice, in contrast, is partially defined by fairness. But it’s also the case that justice sometimes demands something beyond simple fairness; something including mercy.

The word mercy in Hebrew is hesed, which is also translated as loving kindness. Mercy means offering compassion and love to someone, whether they deserve it or not. Bryan Stevenson, author of Just Mercy and founder of the National Memorial for Peace and Justice writes, 

“The power of just mercy is that it belongs to the undeserving. It’s when mercy is least expected that it’s most potent—strong enough to break the cycle of victimization and victimhood, retribution and suffering. It has the power to heal the psychic harm and injuries that lead to aggression and violence.”

American society tends to favor swift and harsh punishments; it recoils from mercy. But as Parker Palmer wrote recently, “Looking back on my eight[y]-seven[th] year, It’s clear to me that I would not be here without the mercies granted me by a variety of people, or without the great mercy that gave me life itself and has allowed me to continue to enjoy the gift.”

Palmer’s inspiration is the song Mercy Now, by singer-songwriter Mary Gauthier.  Listen to the song below, in case you are also feeling the need for a little mercy now. Or in case you are feeling ready now, to offer mercy to some people in your life. 

Here are the song’s closing lyrics:  

“Yeah, we all could use a little mercy now.

I know we don’t deserve it.

But we need it anyhow.

We hang in the balance.

Dangled ‘tween hell and hallowed ground.

Every single one of us could use some mercy now.” 

I am forever grateful to the mother in the other car, who showed mercy to me.  She had mercy in her heart, when pure anger would have been more than justified.

May goodness and mercy follow you, all the days of your life.