Father Jean Claude Colin ( 1790 - 1875 ) was the Founder of the Society of Mary in France. The Society was approved by Rome in 1836. In December of that year, a group of Marists – including Saint Peter Chanel – came to the South-West Pacific. Saint Marcellin Champagnat ( 1789 - 1840 ) – Founder of the Marist Brothers (1863) – was one of the first Marists. Jeanne Marie Chavoin ( 1786 - 1858 ) – Foundress of the Marist Sisters (1884) – worked with Father Colin in those early years and for many years afterwards. Saint Julian Eymard ( 1811 - 1868 ) was a Marist until he left to found the Blessed Sacrament Congregation in Paris in 1856.
– Marist Fathers – were entrusted with the Parish of Saint Patricks, Church Hill, by Archbishop Polding, in September 1868. In the ensuing one hundred and fifty-seven years, one hundred and fifty-seven Marists have served at Saint Patricks.
I offer four brief reflections on mercy as a tribute to those Marists, called by the charism to be “instruments of God’s mercy.” But first, a brief sketch of the particular focus on mercy within the Marist charism.
Michael Fitzgerald ( 1946 - 2018 ) was a New Zealand Marist who spent many years serving the people in Fiji.
Michael Fitzgerald SM writes:
Mary’s presence in the Church is not seen as a remote, nebulous, contemplative one, but rather Mary is in the Church with a particular mission: she is the gentle and merciful face of the Church, the open and welcoming door of the sheep-fold …. She extends the welcome of a merciful God, of a merciful, welcoming community of disciples. …. Father Colin considered the mission of the Society he founded not to be the development of some new mode of devotion or the like, but to be itself the embodiment of Mary’s presence in the Church in the manner of its presence and in the manner of its way of acting. …. He was talking more of a movement. … Colin invites us first of all not to embark on new initiatives in the concrete sphere of pastoral ministry, but to imbue ourselves with a new consciousness and so discover new ways of being Church, of being disciple, of being present, of being pastor and evangeliser (Michael Fitzgerald SM, “A Marian Consciousness” in Maristica, Textus et Studia, 5, 46 & 48).
In the 1872 Constitutions of the Society of Mary, we find a turn of phrase that is helpful. Marists are called to be “misericordiarum instrumenta” – “instruments of mercies”. The same phrase (in the singular) is used in the 1988 Constitutions – see #11. This phrase – “instruments of mercy” – is central to Father Colin’s vision of what it means to be Marist:
In the Society we shall profess all those opinions which give greatest play to the mercy of God, on account of the great weakness of poor human nature, without however falling into a laxist theology (A Founder Speakers, 37,2).
Father Colin was counter-cultural in promoting this emphasis on mercy. While it is central to the life and teaching of Jesus, it was significantly diminished amidst the moral rigorism that dominated France – and Australia – in the 19th century. A focus on law and doctrine tended towards severity and thus, also tended to side-line the more Gospel-focus on people and relationships.
Father Colin liked two expressions he had heard in Rome:
‘Law was made for man’. If I cannot save him with the law, I shall try to save him without it (A Founder Speaks, 163,2).
‘Salvation before the law’ (A Founder Speaks, 95,3).
When the Marists began serving the people at Saint Patricks, Church Hill, in 1868, they immediately gained a reputation for mercy – especially in the confessional. One name stands out – Father Pierre Piquet. After 56 continuous years working at Saint Patrick’s, he died in Lewisham Hospital on 10 August 1936. Peter McMurrich SM gives us an interesting note on Piquet’s time at Saint Patricks:
In 1907 he was suspended and declared excommunicated by the archbishop of Sydney, Cardinal Patrick Moran, for his carelessness in observing Church marriage regulations, and protocols for the administration of other sacraments. Although quickly smoothed over, the incident reflected the unease felt by some Irish clergy at the more liberal pastoral approach adopted by the French Marists, particularly in the confessional. (See Saint Patrick’s web site.)
Marists find a kindred spirit in Pope Francis. If there is one theme that has characterized his papacy, it is mercy. In his first Easter Message – Urbi et Orbi – on March 31, 2013, Pope Francis said:
God’s mercy can make even the driest land become a garden, can restore life to dry bones (cf. Ez 37: 1-14) … Let us be renewed by God’s mercy, let us be loved by Jesus, let us enable the power of his love to transform our lives too; and let us become agents of this mercy, channels through which God can water the earth, protect all creation and make justice and peace flourish. (Emphasis added.)
John Jago SM ( 1932 - 2018 ) – former Superior General of the Marist Fathers and former Provincial of the Australian Province of the Marist Fathers – wrote as Superior General, in a letter of 24 September 1986 (“Mary Mother of our Hope”):
The seminarians who climbed the hill of Fourvière (On 23 July 1816, twelve young seminarians – including Jean Claude Colin and Marcellin Champagnat – went to the shrine of Fourvière in Lyon and solemnly pledged to establish the Society of Mary as soon as they could.) were caught in a dream. They were convinced that Mary wanted something. She wanted to transform the Church into a Kingdom of mercy. In God’s providence she was to be the instrument to renew the Church into a servant and pilgrim people. She was to bring a new sensitivity and compassion. A compassion which saw in the skepticism of the time a desire of people to be authentic, to cast off all masks and illusions. A Church which would be gentle with unbelievers because it recognized in their disbelief the possibility of a deeper and sounder foundation for the faith. Despite their conservative and ultramontane leanings, the men of Fourvière burned with a vision. They were innovators and prophets. They wanted to create something new. For the sake of their vision they were willing to set aside all desire for personal power, for fame, for possessions. The invitation to go to Oceania had not yet been made, the question had not yet been asked, and yet one knew that the answer would be ‘Yes’. They were men available. They were men on fire, the men of Fourvière.
1. Mercy: A deliberate love - Throughout these reflections, the Sacred Scripture will be quoted from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise indicated.
Tony Lauer – former police commissioner in NSW – and his wife Joy, appeared on the ABC TV program, “Australian Story,” in March of 2003. Joy and Tony, adopted a girl, Tanya, about fifteen years after the birth of the last of their three children. Tanya was an attractive and talented young girl but she became addicted to heroin. When Tanya had three children of her own – the eldest was twelve and the youngest was eighteen months – the State moved to place those children in foster care. To prevent that, Joy and Tony Lauer – now in their mid-sixties and looking forward to celebrating their retirement years – adopted Tanya’s three young children.
There is a beautiful and powerful moment in the interview in which Joy speaks of her relationship with her adopted daughter, Tanya:
People sort of say to you, ‘Look, why do you bother with her? She’s an addict. She’s always going to be an addict. Once an addict always an addict.’ But they’re your children. You don’t get a guarantee when you take children on. You don’t get a guarantee they’re all going to turn out right. You give them a good education. Do you then say, when they don’t take the path you hope they will, ‘Well, I’m finished with you, out you go’? You love them. You love them for what they are. And I can’t turn that off. I love my children with a passion. And I love my grandchildren the same way. And drugs haven’t changed that. I can’t turn my love off for Tanya. Even though she’s not my flesh, I love her (From the ABC)
In the Hebrew Bible, the Prophet Hosea is asked to take a prostitute as his wife. He is to be faithful to her even though she is not faithful to him. The significant word used of this relationship is hesed. The nearest English word is “kindness”. Hesed is generally used with the word emet meaning “faithfulness”. Our English word “Amen” comes from this Hebrew word. We should assume it carries the same meaning. Together they point to a faithful, committed love deliberately chosen. For example, Abraham’s servant, speaking to Isaac’s wife-to-be:
(Abraham’s servant) bowed his head and worshiped the Lord 27 and said, “Blessed be the Lord, the God of my master Abraham, who has not forsaken his steadfast love (hesed) and his faithfulness (emet) toward my master. As for me, the Lord has led me on the way to the house of my master’s kin” (Genesis 24:26-27)
On God’s part, this Covenant is unbreakable:
The Lord descended in the cloud and stood with (Moses) there, and proclaimed the name, “The Lord” 6 The Lord passed before him, and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful (rahum) We will explore this word and its meaning in our next reflection under the heading of “A Visceral Love.” and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love (hesed) and faithfulness (emet), 7 keeping steadfast love (hesed) for the thousandth generation, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, yet by no means clearing the guilty, but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children and the children’s children, to the third and the fourth generation” (Exodus 34:5-7)
The Psalms repeatedly recall God’s commitment. For example:
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love (hesed) endures forever! 2 Let Israel say, “His steadfast love (hesed) endures forever.” 3 Let the house of Aaron say, “His steadfast love (hesed) endures forever.” 4 Let those who fear the Lord say, “His steadfast love (hesed) endures forever” (Psalm 118:1-4).
Good and upright is the Lord; therefore he instructs sinners in the way. 9 He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble his way. 10 All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love (hesed) and faithfulness (emet), for those who keep his covenant and his decrees. This phrase should not be interpreted as implying that God will only love those who love in return – as if the Covenant is primarily a legal contract or transactional commitment. Rather it implies that, if we remain faithful to the Covenant we will continue to be the recipients of God’s unmerited love and fidelity. If we choose to step outside the Covenant, then we are turning our back on what is being offered by God. Of course this happens repeatedly throughout history. One of the roles of the Prophets is to remind us of the consequences of our actions in turning away from the Covenant. There is no change in God and God’s love. God’s love is steadfast and does not (Psalm 25:8-10. See also Psalms 40:11, 61:7, 85:10, 86:15, 89:14, 115:1, 117:2).
Exercises
1. Psalm 103:1-5 has a particularly beautiful response to God’s merciful presence. I invite you to pray this Psalm rather than simply read it. Slown down. Listen with the ear of the heart. Be present to the Presence being revealed here:
Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name. 2 Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits—3 who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, 4 who redeems your life from the Pit, who crowns you with (hesed) and mercy (rahamim),
(See the following reflection, “A Visceral Love”.) 5who satisfies you with good as long as you live so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
6 The Lord works vindication and justice for all who are oppressed. 7 He made known his ways to Moses, his acts to the people of Israel. 8 The Lord is merciful (rahum) and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (hesed).
9 He will not always accuse, nor will he keep his anger forever. 10 He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. 11 For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is his steadfast love (hesed) toward those who fear him; 12 as far as the east is from the west, so far he removes our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion (rahum) for his children, so the Lord has compassion (rahem) for those who fear him. 14 For he knows how we were made; he remembers that we are dust. 15 As for mortals, their days are like grass; they flourish like a flower of the field; 16 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone, and its place knows it no more.
17 But the steadfast love (hesed) of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him, and his righteousness to children’s children, 18 to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.
19 The Lord has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all. 20 Bless the Lord, O you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, obedient to his spoken word. 21 Bless the Lord, all his hosts, his ministers that do his will. 22 Bless the Lord, all his works, in all places of his dominion. Bless the Lord, O my soul (Ps 103:1–22).
2. Reflect on the following text from Pope Francis’ Evangelii Gaudium.
The salvation which God offers us is the work of his mercy. No human efforts, however good they may be, can enable us to merit so great a gift. God, by his sheer grace, draws us to himself and makes us one with him. He sends his Spirit into our hearts to make us his children, transforming us and enabling us to respond to his love by our lives (#112).
In what way do these words speak wo you?
2. Mercy: A visceral love
One day in January 1962, I was travelling back from Lighthouse Beach in Ballina, northern New South Wales, with my family. There should have been thirteen of us in that Ford Customline as se headed home – Mum and dad and eleven children. As it turned out, there were only twelve.
When we were about four or five kilometres from the beach, someone asked where Paul was. Paul was the baby, less than two years old. It seems we had left him on the beach. When this fact became known in the car, my mother cried out, “Oh my baby!” Now, you should know that my mother was a very reserved sort of person, she did not easily manifest her emotions. But I can still hear her cry at that moment – “Oh my baby!” It came from somewhere deep inside her. It was visceral.
In the First Book of Kings (3:16-28) we hear the same cry from another mother. You know the story. There are two mothers, each with a baby. One mother accidentally rolls on her baby in the night and smothers it. She claims the other baby. Solomon must show his wisdom in deciding which one is really the mother of this surviving baby. He suggests cutting the living baby in half, knowing full well that the real mother will react instantly to that suggestion. The King James Version says it well: “Her bowels yearned upon her son.”
The Hebrew word used here is rahame and is closely related to the Hebrew word, rehem, meaning “womb”. The Septuagint translation of the Hebrew word rahame uses the Greek word metra, “womb”.
We came across this word in different forms in the previous reflection. For example:
The Lord passed before (Moses), and proclaimed, “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful (rahum) and gracious . . .” (Exodus 34:6) on Page 2.
Bless the Lord, O my soul, and do not forget all his benefits—3 who forgives all your iniquity, who heals all your diseases, 4 who redeems your life from the Pit, who crowns you with (hesed) and mercy (rahamim) . . . (Psalm 103:4) on Page 6.
By extension various forms of the word came to mean mercy or compassion. For example, we find a particularly beautiful instance in the Prophet Isaiah:
Can a woman forget her nursing child, or show no compassion (rahem) for the child of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands (Isaiah 49:15-16).
We might call this visceral love.
In the Christian Scriptures we have a similar expression used of Jesus. For example, in Matthew 9:36 – when Jesus saw the crowd “like sheep without a shepherd” – the Jerusalem Bible translates, “he felt sorry for them”. The Greek word is esplagchnisth? and it comes from the word splagchna meaning the noble viscera – heart, lungs, liver and intestines. English words like “sorry,” “pity” and “compassion” hardly do justice to the deep, visceral content of these words as used in the world of Palestine – then as now.
There are at least two particular obstacles to our (ie Western) capacity to grasp the full impact of the meaning of mercy as revealed in both the Hebrew Scripture and the Christian Scriptures.
Firstly, we tend to think of mercy in the context of power – one person has power over another. Thus, mercy is shown when the person with power lets the other off the hook. Such power-based mercy does not necessarily imply any kind of affinity or fellow-feeling. It might be no more than a way of gaining favour or improving one’s reputation or satisfying some unconscious need to be in control. The mercy of God has no ulterior motives, is vulnerable and cares only for the well-being of the other. Any “power” at play here, is the power to lay down one’s life.
Secondly, the modern Western mind-set is schooled to be abstract rather than concrete, universalist rather than particular, theoretical rather than experiential. Our speech therefore simply will not convey the same concrete, particular and experiential import of the Semitic languages. We must spend a long time learning to listen and think viscerally. The language of the body is not the same as the language of the rational mind. They unveil different aspects of reality.
Exercises
1. Call to mind a relationship between a mother and her baby – a relationship which you have witnessed firsthand. What are some of the obvious manifestations of that mother-child relationship? Physically? Emotionally? Intellectually? How would you describe that relationship? What feelings does it evoke in you? Take some time. Let your body speak.
2. We “find” God and come to “know” God primarily through experience. Our bodies and bodily experience are sacramental. An experience of the mother-and-child relationship – whether I am the mother, the father, a sibling or an observer – can open us to what Saint Paul speaks of:
now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then we will see face to face. Now I know only in part; then I will know fully, even as I have been fully known. 13 And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:12-13).
C S Lewis, in a different context, gives us a final thought in our efforts to begin to grasp viscerally what we call “God’s mercy” – a reality that is in fact well and truly beyond our grasp. However, in our attempt to face this ungraspable reality, we may come into a place of awe – and that is no small grace:
Suppose you were told there was a tiger in the next room: you would know that you were in danger and would probably feel fear. But if you were told 'There is a ghost in the next room', and believed it, you would feel, indeed, what is often called fear, but of a different kind. It would not be based on the knowledge of danger, for no one is primarily afraid of what a ghost may do to him, but of the mere fact that it is a ghost. It is 'uncanny' rather than dangerous, and the special kind of fear it excites may be called Dread. With the Uncanny one has reached the fringes of the Numinous. Now suppose that you were told simply 'There is a mighty spirit in the room', and believed it. Your feelings would then be even less like the mere fear of danger: but the disturbance would be profound. You would feel wonder and a certain shrinking … an emotion which might be expressed in Shakespeare's words 'Under it my genius is rebuked'. This feeling may be described as awe, and the object which excites it as the Numinous.” (C S Lewis, . Harper Collins e-books, 2004, 5–6.)
3. Mercy: A prodigal love
Chapter 15 of Luke’s Gospel is headed in the Jerusalem Bible with the title, “The three parables of God’s mercy”. The chapter begins:
Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him.
This observation is followed with another about the religious authorities:
The Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them’.
A contrast is drawn between the way of Jesus and the way of the religious authorities. Three parables follow: the lost sheep, the lost coin and the lost son. What is front and centre in each parable is the response of the one who loses then finds.
These parables are so typical of Luke’s portrait of Jesus that scholars have referred to this section as the heart of his Gospel. One scholar writes particularly of the first two parables:
They make a major contribution to the Lucan theme of God’s love and mercy for sinful human beings and of Jesus’ call for repentance and conversion. Indeed, the note of ‘joy’ that is part of the first two parables is explicitly applied to God himself in the concluding verse of each (vv. 7, 10) (Joseph Fitzmyer SJ, The Gospel according to Luke X–XXIV: introduction, translation, and notes, (Vol. 28A), Yale University Press, 2008, 1071.)
In the first parable, there is the over-the-top response of the shepherd – fancy leaving the ninety-nine in the wilderness to search for the one that got lost! In the second parable, there is the extravagance of the woman – fancy spending all that money on a party just because she has found the coin! These two parables prepare us for the prodigal love of the father when the irresponsible son is found:
But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.
Luke gives us a picture of the lonely, heart-broken figure of the father looking into the distance. Waiting! Then the father sees the son. Luke uses the same verb (splangnizomai) to describe the father’s response here as he has used to describe Jesus in 7:13 and the good Samaritan in 10:33. Luke emphasizes that the prodigal father reactions is profoundly visceral when he tells us that he ‘ran and put his arms around him and kissed him’! What a sight, what a moment!
A common human reaction to catching oneself being silly, irresponsible or insensitive, is disgust, shame or at least embarrassment. It is a moment of humiliation. In such a moment we can feel unloved and unlovable. This is perhaps why we tend to expect the one who has been hurt to hurt in return. “Justice-as-revenge”! The inclination to resentment and revenge shadows us all.
The father’s response in this parable makes us feel very uncomfortable therefore because we think this young man who has behaved so badly deserves to be punished rather than welcomed. Welcoming him sets a bad example!
But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.
If I have never felt my own need for mercy and therefore never cried out for God’s mercy, it is highly unlikely that I will ever understand what is going on in the old man’s heart as he kisses his wayward son.
Exercises
1. Find a quiet place. Sit down. Come to rest. Become aware of your breathing. Become particularly aware of that contemplative “place” at the end of each out-breath. Gently call to mind the words of God in Psalm 46:10 – words spoken to you: “Be still and know that I am God”. Repeat the words slowly. Listen with the ear of the heart. Pay attention to what your body is saying.
2. Luke, at the beginning of his Gospel, reports Mary’s words to the Angel Gabriel at the Annunciation:
“Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word” (Luke 1:38).
Mary spoke not only for herself but for humankind. She taught her son to think that way too. And so, Luke, at the end of his Gospel, tells us that the last words of Jesus were:
Into your hand I commit my spirit (Psalm 31:5).
The words that follow immediately – left implicit in Luke’s report – are significant:
you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful (emet) God.
Reflect on this communion between mother and son. Let their words resonate within you. Be present! Pay attention!
3. Are you aware of any feelings of revenge or resentment in your life? They could be associated with your own moral failure – something you did or did not do? They could be associated with hurt done to you by someone else – maybe a long time ago, maybe recently? Holding onto resentment and revenge can damage us. What might we do?
Firstly, recall the great Promise: “I am with you!” (Exodus 3:1-12); sit with that awareness for a few minutes.
Secondly, recall the fact that all love and mercy come from God. We can be instruments of God’s mercy, we cannot be sources of God’s mercy. Our vocation is to be the place where God enters the world. Mercy is another name fo God’s presence. Sit with that awareness for a few minutes.
Thirdly, recall the words of Psalm 31:5: “Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.” Sit with that awareness for a few minutes. Pray: “Lord, deliver me not from this darkness but through this darkness.”
Fourthly, get a picture in your imagination of yourself and anyone else involved. Repeat those words of Psalm 31:5, replacing the words “my spirit,” with the name(s) of the relevant person(s). Do that gently, in the spirit of Mary: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”
There are two components here. One is the moral component. That asks of us the intention to be instruments of mercy. The other is the psychological component. That asks of us patience and attention that will allow emotional healing to take place over time. We should not confuse the two. We typically have some capacity to formulate an honest intention. We typically have only limited capacity to wait with emotions that can be very painful and take a long time to heal. In fact, some painful emotions we will take to the grave with us. The old adage, “forgive and forget,” is not good advice. Rather, “remember well and forgive.”
4. Mercy: A way of being present
In December 1967 Thomas Merton gave a retreat to a group of contemplative nuns at Gethsemani Abbey. What he said in that conference nearly sixty years ago is as fresh and relevant now as it was then:
Presence is what counts. It’s important to realise that the Church itself is presence and so is the contemplative life. Community is presence, not an institution. We’ve been banking on the ability to substitute institution for the reality of presence, and it simply won’t work (Thomas Merton – The Springs of Contemplation: A Retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, Ave Maria Press, 1992, 17).
How we are present will greatly affect our communication. Again Merton’s words are wise:
…. people don’t want to hear anymore words. In our mechanical age, all words have become alike, they’ve all been reduced to the level of the commercial. To say ‘God is love’ is like saying ‘Eat Wheaties’ (Ibid.)
In 1975, Pope Paul VI was to echo this same thought in his ground-breakig Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelii Nuntiandi:
Modern people listen more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if they do listen to teachers, it is because they are witnesses. (#41)
Both Merton and Paul VI are saying that words without appropriate presence are empty. In fact, without appropriate presence, words can undermine the very message they try to communicate. It is the appropriate presence in the words that give them their cogency and their very justification. We can talk all we like about mercy and doing works of mercy, but if our presence does not radiate the mercy of God – the source of all mercy – then we would be better off saying nothing. Was it Saint Vincent de Paul who said, if we do not love the poor they will not forgive us for helping them?
The second century bishop, Saint Ignatius of Antioch, reminds us:
It is better to keep quiet and be than make fluent professions and not be (“Letter to the Ephesians” in Maxwell Staniforth, translator, Early Christian Writings: The Apostolic Fathers, Penguin Books, 1968, 65).
Let us look a little more closely at what we mean by presence. In a letter of August 21, 1967, Merton makes a simple but profound observation:
We exist solely for this, to be the place He has chosen for His presence, His manifestation in the world, His epiphany (Thomas Merton: Spiritual Master – The Essential Writings, edited by Lawrence S Cunningham, Paulist Press, 1992, 425).
What we normally call “virtues” – such as mercy, compassion, patience, courage etc – might better be understood as manifestations of the Divine Presence rather than achievements of human will. Pope Francis says “mercy is the name of God”. (The Name of God is Mercy: A conversation with Andrea Tornielli (Kindle Locations 645-646). Pan Macmillan UK. Kindle Edition.) In the same place Pope Francis quotes his predecessor:
Pope Benedict XVI also spoke of this in his teachings: ‘Mercy is in reality the core of the Gospel message; it is the name of God himself, the face with which he revealed himself in the Old Testament and fully in Jesus Christ, incarnation of Creative and Redemptive Love.’
As such, mercy and these other qualities, for which we all aspire – believers and non-believers alike – should be considered as gifts rather than conquests, facilitated or enabled rather than mastered or won by us. The merciful person is someone in whom God reigns. This will be evidenced by two outstanding characteristics in that person: freedom and grace.
Becoming present in a way that allows God-who-is-called-mercy to be present through us, is a life-long journey. Nothing motivates us on this journey quite like the experience of our own need for mercy meeting the mercy of God. In fact, without a personal experience of God’s mercy, we will never be able to bear witness to that mercy by our presence.
The ”boiler room” of merciful presence is the experience of compunction. It is not achieved by self-effort but granted by grace. Compunction is a precious gift. Unfortunately, the gift of compunction is not much discussed in our times. The eminent medievalist, Jean Leclercq reminds us of the rich tradition around compunction:
medieval monastic literature is in large part a literature of compunction, where the aim is to possess, to increase, and communicate the desire for God” (Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God, Fordham University Press, 1977, 83).
Leclerq describes the grace of compunction in the following way
At the root of this concept of the Christian life is found a lively awareness of man's misery: a lived consciousness, an experienced knowledge. ... The first result of experiencing the human condition, for the Christian who knows how to interpret it, is humility, in other words, detachment from the world, from ourselves, and from our sins, and the consciousness of our need for God. Such is compunction under its double aspect: compunction of fear, compunction of desire. ... Compunction becomes pain of the spirit, a suffering resulting simultaneously from two causes: the existence of sin and our own tendency towards sin ... and the existence of our desire for God (Jean Leclercq, op cit, 36-38).
Exercises
1. Judging others is the antithesis of being merciful. This is reason enough for Jesus to ask his disciples not to judge others – see Matthew 7:1-5. However, the inclination to judge another, is potentially a rich moment of grace. Oscar Wilde remarked that our judgement of others are always autobiographical. So, next time you find yourself inclined towards judging someone else – you will recognize the experience because you will fee angry or envious or both – pause. Pay attention to what is going on within you. It is probably not about the other person at all. Rather than try to fight the inclination to judge, pause and listen. Pay attention to what is going on in your own inner being. And do not judge yourself either!
2. Might we need to show mercy towards the Church?
About forty years ago, the monk, Carlo Carretto, returned to Italy from the Sahara Desert, where he had lived for many years among the Bedouin. He wrote a document entitled, “I Sought and I Found.” There he tells of his inner journey and his struggles with God. He concludes the document with a letter to the Church. The letter begins:
How much I must criticise you, my church and yet how much I love you! You have made me suffer more than anyone and yet I owe you more than I owe anyone. I should like to see you destroyed and yet I need your presence. You have given me much scandal and yet you alone have made me understand holiness. Never in the world have I seen anything more obscurantist, more compromised, more false, yet never have I touched anything more pure, more generous or more beautiful. Countless times I have felt like slamming the door of my soul in your face – and yet, every night, I have prayed that I might die in your sure arms! No, I cannot be free of you, for I am one with you, even if not completely you. Then too – where should I go? To build another church? But I cannot build another church without the same defects, for they are my own defects. And again, if I were to build another church, it would be my church, not Christ’s church. No, I am old enough. I know better!” (Originally appeared in the U.K. Catholic Herald. Carlo Carretto died on 4 October 1988 at the age of 78).
Journal and reflect on these questions
How does the concept of mercy as portrayed in the Marist tradition challenge or deepen your understanding of God’s nature?
In what ways can you embody being an 'instrument of mercy' in your daily life, particularly in your relationships and community?
Reflect on a time when you experienced God's mercy. How did it transform your perception of yourself and others?
How does the example of Mary as the 'gentle and merciful face of the Church' inspire you to approach others, especially those who are marginalized or struggling?
How can the Church today continue to renew itself as a “Kingdom of mercy” in response to modern challenges and skepticism?
What practices or attitudes in your own life might need to change to better reflect a Marian consciousness of mercy, love, and compassion?
How can the experience of mercy help us navigate feelings of judgment, both toward ourselves and others, and move toward a place of compassion and understanding?
Discuss
Song - Reckless Love
Closing Prayer
Abba, Loving Father, we come before You with grateful hearts for the gift of Your mercy, revealed through the life and teachings of Your Son and exemplified by the Marist tradition. We thank You for showing us that mercy is not just a feeling but a way of living, of reaching out with compassion to all those we meet. Help us to embody Mary’s gentle presence in our actions, offering a welcoming spirit to those in need. May we be instruments of Your mercy, allowing Your love to flow through us in all that we do. Grant us the courage to forgive as we have been forgiven, to love as we are loved, and to serve without seeking return. We ask that You deepen our understanding of mercy in our daily lives, so that we may see others with the same grace and kindness that You see us. Let our hearts be moved with compassion for the suffering and marginalized, and guide our hands to lift up those who are burdened. When we fall short, remind us that Your mercy is always greater than our failings. May Your Spirit transform our hearts, making us humble and ever open to Your love. Teach us to live with patience, understanding, and a spirit of peace. We ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, who is the face of Your endless mercy. Amen.
1. Mercy: A deliberate love - Throughout these reflections, the Sacred Scripture will be quoted from the New Revised Standard Version unless otherwise indicated. 
2. Mercy: A visceral love 
3. Mercy: A prodigal love 
4. Mercy: A way of being present 
(Audio Available)
