have mercy

I am 46 hours late for the Mercy Monday post over at Jenn Lebow’s Mercy Mondays. She mercifully allowed me to still post. I mostly am late because I still don’t really know what mercy is. I’m asking. God is slow and painstakingly clear in His telling.

Ever since Jenn visited me in early August and we sat on my swing until late in the night, I’ve mused mercy. Like Jenn, I studied James in the spring and truly sang hallelujah as I read that mercy triumphs (James 2:13). Nothing like the book of James to rouse up a good case of mercy-itis - only cured by mercy. 

We talked about our good ole Campus Crusade definitions. Mercy means the withholding of a judgement deserved. Grace is unmerited favor. These two are so close that you cannot differentiate the very arteries and veins suppling their lifeblood.

This week in preparation for a post on “mercy as pardon,” I pulled out some 10 or so 10 pound books. I’ve looked at the Old Testament Word Book, The Hebrew-Greek Key Word Study Bible, Addiction and Grace by Gerald May, in addition to various online sources. One phrase has captured my attention... “this is the exact place where God met with humans.”

The wings of two cherubim shadowed the mercy seat. Once a year the Hebrew priests sprinkled blood on that exact spot - the mercy seat - as an atonement for sin. Atonement means something that makes the offended party glad again. It means to be in harmony with one another. Literally to be AT ONE. 

God meets us in the exact spot that the blood is applied. 

Today and yesterday life teaches me that relationships break. Moms die. Bodies get ravaged by disease. Friends grope for words of comfort only to come up short. Reconciliation is hard to come by. Viruses can take a body down. Good people die young. My plans do not equal The Plan. 

In the spot that I apply the blood of Jesus, God’s Presence breaks out of time and fills my soul. The blood of Jesus once and for... ONCE AND FOR ALL, I SAY... has paid the penalty for my sins. The mercy seat became the cross. And Jesus sat down when it was finished. 

And so as I endeavor to comfort. As I strive to reconcile broken relationships. As I reach for mercy and find her open arms. May God’s Presence abound. May I give up understanding mercy and just let my body and soul float in the river of grace and mercy. Whatever they both mean. Oddly enough, the Hebrew word for mercy is also the word for womb. If nothing else, mercy is a space where a seed can grow. A seed of faith. A seed of forgiveness. A seed of hope. 

Mercy is a woman. A woman with a womb. She is strong and tender. Her arms open wide to embrace and hold fragile, war-weary souls. She is not faint nor is she shy. Her strength in the face of fear and cavalier sin overwhelms the crudest sinner. Her ancient face is lined with furrows of kindness and gentleness. Goodness marks her days. As we fall into her embrace and burrow into her womb, life-giving blood courses through our souls. Sins  evaporate. Shame flees. Forgiveness triumphs.

Comments

[idelette]

" ... the Hebrew word for mercy is also the word for womb." I love this and I am definitely going to chew on this. Thank you for delving into those 10-pound volumes and doing the work.

[a dreier]

I love your writing it makes me slow down and think about God's tenderness toward me. Your writing gives me mental pictures to represent things I want to know or I am learning about God. Thank you for sharing your heart - it always blesses.