Scripture: Matthew 5:1-7
1When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying:
3“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5“Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7“Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.
Sermon: “Blessed Are the Merciful”
Jesus said, “Blessed are the Merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
When I hear the word, “mercy,” an image immediately comes to mind: Queen Victoria in her 19th century regalia pardoning a peasant for participating in a protest against the government. (That comes first to mind, probably, because I watch too much PBS.) But, also, it comes to mind because the definition of mercy involves someone in a position of power bestowing a kindness on someone else who is less powerful. Or, in the actual words of the dictionary, “[Mercy is] compassion and forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.” (Dictionary on MacBook Pro). REPEAT
But here’s the thing about that definition of mercy. It doesn’t have to come from the heart. The person in power, in my example, the queen, could have an ulterior motive for showing mercy. Showing mercy to a peasant could help the queen in the court of public opinion. So, showing mercy doesn’t necessarily mean that the person in power cares one way or the other about the person to whom they are showing mercy. Showing mercy to someone could just be the means toward another end, not the means toward a deeper relationship with the person to whom mercy is granted.
But that is not the kind of mercy that Jesus is talking about in this passage from the Beatitudes. In verse 7, when Jesus says, “Blessed are the merciful…” he’s not talking about a shallow kind of mercy.
But before I delve deeper into that, I’m going to ask Steve to put up a slide with the phonetic spelling of the Aramaic words that are translated into English as, “Blessed are the merciful for they will receive mercy.” I’m going to play the audio file of those words in Aramaic, so you can hear how they would have sounded when Jesus spoke them. On this recording, which lasts about 30 seconds. scholar Neil Douglas-Klotz repeats the phrase 3 times
[M plays file, track 17, trimmed short version: Tubwayhun lamrahmane delayhun nehwun rahme. - translation from Prayers of the Cosmos by Neil Douglas-Klotz, p. 59] THANK YOU, Steve
In Aramaic, the language Jesus spoke, the words translated here as “merciful” lamrahmane and “mercy” rahme share the same root meaning “womb”--as in the place where a child developes inside their mother. The connotation of the word is that the mercy spoken of here comes from the deepest place within one’s being. (Douglas-Klotz, p. 59-60.) It is not a shallow mercy or a mercy with ulterior motives. The mercy Jesus speaks of is a deep compassion--as in the compassion of a mother for her child-- that comes from the core of one’s being and “gives birth,” if you will, to a love that lives and grows in the world.
Which reminds me of a cross-stitched proverb that my grandmother had displayed in her living room when I was a kid. The proverb went something like this, “Never criticize someone until you’ve walked a mile in their moccasins.” REPEAT. As a kid, I used to puzzle over what that proverb meant—to begin with, I couldn’t make sense of the whole moccasin thing. I mean, my grandmother always wore dresses with low-heeled pumps—she wouldn’t ever wear moccasins around the house, never mind going outside walking a whole mile in someone else’s shoes! …But as I got older, I realized that I was focusing on the wrong thing. The proverb wasn’t about footwear at all; it was about compassion! It was about the kind of mercy and compassion that Jesus speaks of in this passage, about taking the time to walk with someone through their pain, listening to the story of their lives, not looking at them with a judgmental, critical eye.
And this kind of mercy and compassion takes work, doesn’t it? If it were easy, I suppose, Jesus wouldn’t have to remind us to do it. It takes work and time and energy and patience and honesty and humility. But, my friends, mercy is a gift we can give to the world if we are willing to do it. And when I say that it is a gift we can give to the world, I do not say that glibly. I honestly believe that our merciful words and actions—or should I say God’s mercy shining through our words and actions-- really can change the world.
We’ve seen this happen, haven’t we? When people choose to allow God’s love and mercy to shine through what they/we say and do, it makes a difference. Or, as one person said in a Bible Study that I led on this passage a few years ago, “mercy leads to mercy.” And it’s not usually grand acts of mercy, though sometimes it is. In that same Bible study, someone brought up grand acts of mercy that we’ve seen in great literature, like in Les Miserables. [LAY Mee -zeh- rhab- bluh] As you know, from the book or the musical, the bishop shows mercy to Jean Vajean, who is about to get thrown back into prison for stealing silver, and the bishop says, “No, I gave that to him.” That act of mercy by the bishop helped transform Jean Val Jean into a merciful man himself.
Another example of mercy in literature that may also be familiar is Portia’s famous speech from the Merchant of Venice, a speech persuading a money-lender, to be merciful to a man who has defaulted on a loan.
Although I read the Merchant of Venice when I was a freshman in High School, since that was 10 years ago… OK, 45 years ago-- I confess I had to Google “Portia’s speech” to remind myself of its content. Have you listened to it lately? If not, go to YouTube and type in Laura Carmichael “The quality of mercy.” This actor from Downton Abbey does a superb job with this Shakespeare solo produced by the Guardian.
[I had hoped to be able to play it for you, but, sadly, despite Julie’s valiant efforts, we were not able to get permission in time to play it this morning. If we get permission, I will play it next week.]
It is a beautiful speech that extols the beauty and power of mercy. I bet many of you remember at least some of it. Alluding to a passage from the Hebrew Scriptures, Deuteronomy 32:2, it begins, “The quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven on the place beneath. It is twice blessed. It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.”
What a lovely description of the power of mercy to change for the better the person who shows it, AND the person who receives it! I bet we can all think of examples of small acts of mercy effecting this kind of blessing and positive change. For example, have you ever been tired and angry and snapped at a loved one and said something unkind? (I’m sure that’s never happened to any of us.) But, hypothetically, in that situation, we might well deserve to have the person we’ve snapped at snap back at us, and that’s how a lot of arguments start, isn’t it?! Start and escalate. BUT when the person we’ve snapped at turns around and responds instead with mercy, grace and compassion, saying something like, “Are you okay? You don’t seem like yourself right now.” That merciful response has the power to diffuse our anger and get to the heart of what is really bothering us. It can lead to a double blessing.
Having ministered with you for over a year and a half now, I have seen a number of examples of you offering mercy to each other and to people in the Greater Franklin Community. But sometimes a preacher’s job is to encourage a congregation to “keep on doing what you are already doing,” reminding you that’s it worth it. So, brothers and sisters in the faith, may you continue to walk in each other’s moccasins, showing mercy and compassion. And, as you do so, may you know that God will bless you—and that God will use you to bless the world, a world that is in dire need of mercy that comes from the depths of our being.
Rev. Dr. Marlayna Schmidt
Franklin Federated Church
Franklin, MA