I decided Pope Francis' recent book, The Name of God is Mercy, which is the transcript of an interview with veteran Vatican reporter Andrea Tornielli, would be a good read for The Year of Mercy. Since I am cheap I requested it from the library, hoping that two weeks would be enough to get through it. Then I started it and realized it would take me less than two hours to read. For someone who definitely tends more towards the "justice" end in her decidedly black and white view of reality, this book was a wonderful opportunity to truly understand the definition and ramifications of mercy, but also to get a more inside glimpse into what seems to be at the very heart of our current Holy Father's papacy.
Early on, Francis defines mercy as:
"...opening one's heart to wretchedness...mercy is the divine attitude which embraces, it is God's giving himself to us, accepting us, and bowing to forgive.
Throughout the book Francis speaks of the deep intertwining between mercy and forgiveness. In referencing the story of the woman caught in adultery (John 8), he further explains,
"Mercy is something difficult to understand: it does not erase sins. What erases sins is God's forgiveness. But mercy is the way in which God forgives, because Jesus could have said: I forgive you, now go! As he said to the paralyzed man: 'Your sins are forgiven!' Here, in this situation, Jesus goes further and advises the woman not to sin again. And here we see the merciful attitude of Jesus: he defends sinners from their enemies, he defends the sinner from a just condemnation."
Francis does well to remind us that we are all sinners. Laity and clergy alike: from himself all the way back to our first pope, Peter, who denied Christ three times the night before His death. We all stumble, over and over and over and over and over and over again. How do we experience mercy? By recognizing our sinfulness. How do we show mercy? By recognizing others' needs for forgiveness, no matter in how small a way they may express this.
"The medicine is there, the healing is there, if only we take a small step toward God...or even just...desire to take that step."
Quoting the author's words in the introduction:
"[God] overlooks no possibility, no matter how small, in attempting to give the gift of forgiveness. [He] awaits us with open arms; we need only take a step toward him like the Prodigal Son. But if, weak as we are, we don't have the strength to take that step, just the desire to take it is enough. It's already enough of a start for grace to work and mercy to be granted in accordance with the experience of a Church that does not see itself as a customs office but as an agent that seeks out every single possible way to forgive."
Ouch. How often do I, in my own self-righteous sinfulness and misery, seek out every single possible reason not to forgive others? But in the chapter entitled "Shepherds, not scholars of the law," Francis again reminds us:
"When a person begins to recognize the sickness in their soul, when the Holy Spirit - the Grace of God - acts within them and moves their heart toward an initial recognition he needs to find an open door, not a closed one. He needs to find acceptance, not judgment, prejudice, or condemnation. He needs to be helped, not pushed away or cast out. Sometimes, when Christians think like scholars of the law, their hearts extinguish that which the Holy Spirit lights up in the heart of a sinner when he stands at the threshold, when he starts to feel nostalgia for God."
Who am I to judge the way the Holy Spirit is working in another's heart? I do well to discern and understand His workings in my own heart. And if He, who has no sin but rather gave Himself for our sins, offers unlimited forgiveness and mercy to those who have the mere desire to take a step in the right direction no matter how many times they stumble and fall again, why should I not also forgive and show mercy seventy times seven-fold (Matthew 18:21-22).
Reading this book, I can see why Francis is so easily misquoted and misinterpretted. However, as with anyone from Pope Francis to Donald Trump (did I really just use his name on my blog?), it is easy to take a sound-byte and twist it into whatever meaning we are going for. Taken as a whole, The Name of God is Mercy makes a seamless and beautiful case for the absolute necessity of mercy in the Church and the world as a whole. Catholics and non-Catholics alike would do well to take Francis' words to heart, and I would wager to say the non-Catholic could stand to gain a deeper understanding of the Catholic Church's teachings on everything from homosexuality to the necessity of the Sacrament of Reconciliation as a means for forgiveness of sins by taking an hour or so to read this book than they would from a deep study of moral theology. (Note: I am in no way denouncing moral theology, but the context of this book makes a very simple, clear case for the aforementioned in quite simple, easily understandable terms. A deeper study of theology would be a natural next step.)
So how and where do we begin to practice mercy?
"Let us examine...the works of mercy. We have received freely, we give freely. We are called to serve Christ the Crucified through every marginalized person. We touch the flesh of Christ in he who is outcast, hungry, thirsty, naked, imprisoned, ill, unemployed, persecuted, in search of refuge. That is where we find our God, that is where we touch the Lord ... Let us always remember the words of St. John of the Cross: 'In the evening of life, we will be judged on love alone'."
