Have Mercy
By Jim Hunter
James (Jim) Hunter is a retired UMC pastor, avid hiker, author, pilgrim, and friend. Throughout Lent 2023, Jim will be writing essays to companion his new book, The Samaritan’s Friend. Join Jim on our MWF Dispersed Community Zoom call on Wednesdays at 2:00 pm Eastern in Lent for discussion and spiritual practice. Link will be in the Wisdom for the Way
“We weren’t the first to arrive that morning. Sitting off in a corner was my new friend, the tax collector, Matthew. He was sitting close to the back corner, on one of the benches against the wall. His head was bowed and his shoulders so slumped and sad looking that it was hard to see that he was actually rather tall and strong.” (The Samaritan’s Friend page 17)
In Luke, chapter 18, Jesus tells a story about two men praying in the synagogue. One is reminding himself, and God, that he is living the good life. He gets it. He’s on God’s dean’s list. He says, “I thank you,” but can you really thank God while patting yourself on the back?
The other man can barely mumble, “God, be merciful to me.” He doesn’t say why he so desperately desires mercy, he just labels himself a sinner.
I’m sure you remember which one Jesus likes best, but let’s not rush to that.
The guy who refers to God once and himself four times while praying certainly isn’t a sympathetic figure, but he is keeping a good Lent. He’s fasting. He’s tithing. He probably didn’t wash last Wednesday’s ashes off till Friday morning. Truth be told, he’s the one I resolve to become every year around this time. Oops.
In spite of our desire to do better, it’s not the religious honor student that finds God, it’s the one that sounds pitiful. The one that’s checking all the right boxes misses it.
That’s a little distressing. Surely Lent’s invitation isn’t to become pitiful and halt all religious practices.
It is necessary however, to see that Lent’s invitation is more about the heart than actions. Doing this, doing that, doing more of this, and a lot more of that, is a hard and fast way to get nowhere.
The proud man would probably disagree. He wasn’t the one slumped in the corner. His heart didn’t hurt at all. According to his scoreboard, he was winning. It’s likely he went home feeling pretty good about himself.
The man asking for mercy might not want to agree either. His heart hurt. He felt like he was lost. He obviously had some deep regrets and wasn’t happy with the way life was going. When he shook the rabbi's hand at the end of the service, he did not say, “Enjoyed it, Rev.”
Is that the price we pay for giving up the merit badge chase? Is this part of what it means to “take up your cross?” Does the pain of falling short push us to the back corner, buried by our failure to be the spouse, parent, friend, person we hoped to be?
This is where good spiritual directors ask, “What do you think God says about all this?” So, what is God saying to us as we sit back in the furthermost corner?
Like I said earlier, I’m sure you remember which one Jesus likes best.
I can easily picture Jesus, who is sometimes referred to as God-among-us, smiling politely at the proud man as he walks by, on his way to go and sit with the one in the corner.
It’s harder than checking all the right boxes. Box checking feels good. Heart rending, well, it rends your heart. But, somehow Christ approves and says, “Now you’re on the right track. Where do you want to go from here?”
