I love listening to the Gospels. Set free from the constraints of reading, my imagination opens up and runs free. Like a screenplay playing in my mind, scenes unfold revealing what mattered most to Jesus. Painting in color, I feel the crowds press close and almost taste the broken bread shared at the table. I hear Jesus’ rebuking tone respond to the indignant Pharisees, and feel his gentle touch upon an unclean leper.
On a recent snowy morning, I allowed my mind to wander as my thoughts turned inward. What If those closest to me wrote an 18,000 word play about my life? What would they write? What conversations would be immortalized? What moments would be penned, and what would be too frivolous to be mentioned? And since we are little images of Jesus in this broken world, how would my script compare to Jesus’?
Of the many things true about Jesus, one thing stands out in the book of Matthew. Jesus’ moments were crammed with mercy. Time and time again.
For example, remember that time Jesus came down from the transfiguration and was greeted by a crowd? When was the last time any of us returned from a retreat and liked being barraged by our family? “Mommy! Mommy,” they incessantly cry. But this is Jesus. Merciful. Compassionate. Approaching the crowd, a man fell down before Him and cried out, “Lord, have mercy on my son! He has seizures and is suffering greatly. He often falls into the fire or into the water.”
Can we do something profound and color in the black and white print before us? How would you feel if you were this father? What tone would your voice carry? Would you be weeping? Terrified? Desperate?
And what did Jesus do? “Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed at that moment.” (Matthew 15:18)
Mercy.
Tender compassion stirred deep in the bowels of his heart, and He acted. So should we.
Not that all of us have a gift of healing, or even many of us, but maybe we can be the one who picks up a battered or weary woman. Cleans her wounds. Carries her into a place of care. Sacrifice of our own time, agenda, tasks, prejudices, to walk with her to health. His teaching pushes to the fringes of our hearts, and His example to the fringes of society. The fringes of our heart that reaches our most stubborn sins, and the fringes of our society that shows mercy to the most afflicted.
But we are selfish. (I speak of myself here.) And fruitful maturity always bends our will to the way of God. Yet in that bending we are slowly stripped of our brittle, selfish, stubborn, strong wills.
I’m not asking you to do more. I’m suggesting we do less and see better. We do less so that we can open our time to God-ordained interruptions. And we see better because we notice people’s afflictions and respond in mercy. Kingdom mercy always pushes to the fringes.
Think of it this way, go about your normal day, driving carpools, grocery shopping, throwing towels in the dry, and wear mercy-colored glasses. See people as Jesus did, afflicted, needy, weary and heavy laden. Then, respond in mercy as the Holy Spirit prompts.
So as you ponder this, let me ask you a question. How would your daily life change if you chose to walk your journey with mercy colored glasses?
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