Malice and Mercy

 

Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash


Dear God, thank you for all that you do for us as your people, provide for those who are suffering, especially those who are having to deal with the coronavirus, we pray for those in the hospital, give skill to their caregivers, we also pray for those who have died, may you comfort their family and friends in their grief.  In your name, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


It’s only a few days until the election, and that gives me hope. I for one, am always grateful when the last ad airs on whatever video platform you use:  network, cable, internet video, or social media. A steady diet of half-truths, nasty attacks, and bitter language does not unite us.  It’s a cycle of outrage that splits us into for and against camps on the issue of your choice.


That sets the stage for today’s Gospel.  Jesus has been hammering the point, again and again, that being employed in the Temple should not be a for-profit position. It is also not a guilt factory, complete with a predatory approach to collecting funds. In a world where people believed that the sins of one generation were visited on the next, toxic theology could flourish.  And the poor and the needy, who had no bootstraps to pull themselves up by, were caught in a mental dilemma.  Perhaps if they just gave more to the Temple, God would bless them, or at least their children.


At this point, the gulf between the Pharisees and Jesus is so wide that they aren’t even speaking. The stand-ins sent to ask Jesus the question fail, yet again, because of  the brilliant answer Jesus gives. And while you have probably heard a sermon or two on the issue of where money should be spent, I’m not going there today.  Because right now, what I really find interesting is that observation that ‘Jesus is aware of their malice.’


Malice.  


Malice is calculated.

 
Malice is cruel.


It delights in the harm that is caused to another.  And when malice is involved, nastiness and spitefulness are intertwined. 


2020 feels like it could be a poster child for malice. Forest fires have devastated the western United States and Australia. The Gulf Coast has been in the bullseye for hurricanes. The derecho damaged a third of the corn crop here in Iowa.  And COVID has claimed the lives of more than a million people, with 200,000 of them in America. This year feels menacing, in part because it forces us to reflect on our own mortality. We have lost the illusion of control.  


But...


But we have, as Isaiah says, a God who calls us by name. We are reminded in First Thessalonians that we are showered by the love of the Holy Spirit, who helps us persevere regardless of our failures, and who fills us with joy even in the worst times.
So how does Jesus respond to the malice directed towards him? Does he strike those who question him, creating what Isaiah calls ‘weal and woe’? Stockpile weapons in a nearby cave? Or call upon his followers to rise up against the corruption of the Temple?

 
No.


No he doesn’t.


Jesus responds to his detractors with truth and mercy.


Jesus responds to us with truth and mercy.


Mercy is the opposite of malice.  It’s compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one's power to punish or harm them. Jesus, as the Son of God, has the power here to walk away.  He could have told his Father,  “Look, just punish these corrupt Israelites.  Why should I put my life on the line when they are eaten up with jealousy and decay?”  


Jesus instead loves his people, his disciples, and yes, even us, showing us mercy until his death upon the wood of the Cross.


There are some that would tell you that mercy and forgiveness are for losers. Triumph means a vow to defeat the unrighteous, bloodshed and anger.  But violence and defeat do not create unity.  Instead, they polarize the camps further, defining winners and losers.  


In the words of Nadia Bolz Weber, a Lutheran pastor and preacher, “Mercy doesn’t wrap a warm, limp blanket around offenders. God’s mercy is the kind that kills the idea that wronged it and resurrects something new in its place.”


Jesus was angry at the arrogance of the Chief elders. He is proclaiming that they must turn back to the mighty God who wanted the best for them. And when they don’t, Jesus is willing to die on the Cross to show them that they are loved by God more than they can imagine in spite of their failings.


When we worship together, we sometimes say,  “Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.”  


What we really are proclaiming is this:  Lord, we are fallible.  Forgive us.  Christ, help us understand that your death was just the step that led to the Power of Resurrection.  Lord, change our hearts and attitudes and bring us together.


Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.


In a time where we are divided as a society in this country, in the days leading up to the Presidential election, can we practice mercy instead of malice? Yes, people wrong one another, and yes, there must be justice.  This is not a ‘get out of jail free’ card, but it is the hard work that focuses on mending fences between those who have wronged us.


Mercy is one of the hardest things Christ ever preached. Forgiving those who trespass against us is brutal.  And it is the only way forward to unity.


Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy.


Amen.

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