The Name of God is Mercy
That was the title of a book that I recently read as part of a retreat. Like most books penned by popes, it has little chance to become a cinematic blockbuster. But unlike many books, it’s well worth reading.
The book emerged from a conversation between Pope Francis and Italian writer Andrea Tornielli, and it’s a short and easy read. In it Francis stresses the importance of mercy as the key ingredient to a successful life. Why so? Mercy has the capacity to alleviate the corrosion that comes from sin. Mercy can change our lives.
More than anything else, it’s the humanity of the book that struck me. This is not one of those papal tomes composed by a committee and designed to sit benignly on a stately bookshelf. Francis does not take the reader on a reverie through the clouds. Rather, he talks about people he has known and how the exercise of mercy shaped their lives for the better.
Along the way Francis reminds us of just how central mercy is to the preaching of Jesus. For example, Matthew 5:38-42 is not some isolated and impractical bit of advice. Rather, when Jesus recalls the old saw about “an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth,” he sets it up as a foil for a new way of living. The Christian life has no room for revenge or getting even or acting out on our petty resentments and jealousies. Left to grow, those can destroy a life. Mercy, however, can short-circuit everything.
I have to confess that as a sermon-giver I have a few pet peeves. Chief among them are sermons that urge people to work for international peace and an end to loneliness, homelessness, starvation and the like. In no way do I deny the imperative to address these lofty goals. All the same, however, I have yet to see a congregation rush right out of church to get going with those endeavors. So what do I think is missing here? If there is to be any chance of success to achieve peace and a host of social ills, we have to begin within ourselves. We need to search for personal peace, for good relations within our homes and neighborhoods and among the people with whom we rub elbows. Peace in our hearts and in our homes and neighborhoods is the Christian prerequisite to peace in the world.
Of course all that is easier said than done, but it’s why we have to pay attention to what we might think of as the little things in life. In fact, those little things are not so little after all. To take but one example, Saint Benedict writes of the monk who nurses a grudge. Left untended, that grudge can become central to the monk’s life. That’s no way to live a life. That’s why mercy makes all the difference in the world.
NOTES
+This last week did not turn out the way I had planned. I was scheduled to fly to Fort Myers on Wednesday June 12th, but the torrential rains in Florida changed all that. My flight was cancelled, though I was promised a seat on a flight two days later. That’s when I turned around, left the airport, and headed home. It was a great decision.
+We have had our own share of storms and rain in Minnesota this summer, and on Thursday the 13th a thunderstorm sent us trooping to the lower church, where we continued evening prayer.
+During the summer we host a great variety of groups at Saint John’s. This week we hosted the annual meeting of the American Legion Boys’ State, as well as 250 members of the Association of Anglican Musicians.
+We were recently gladdened by the news that a graduate of our School of Theology/Seminary, Andrew McKenzie ‘98, was named bishop of Dunkeld in Scotland.
+The book cited in today’s post, The Name of God is Mercy, by Pope Francis, was published in 2016 by Random House in New York, and is still in print. We read it as part of the annual retreat of the Subpriory of Our Lady of Lourdes of the Order of Malta, held in Malvern PA. The excerpt from Matthew 5 is the gospel reading for the Mass of June 17th.
+The rains have been regular and have turned the campus into a lovely garden, as the photos in today’s post suggest. We have also been heartened by the return of the swallows, who once again I have turned the small arches of the facade of the Great Hall into an apartment block of nests. Tap on the photo below for a better view.