Month: April 2020

As government and health officials grapple with the question of how best to reopen the country and move forward, I think we should stop to ask ourselves, do we really want to go back to the way things were?

Oh there are plenty of things I miss. Gatherings with friends, the faces of my students, unrationed toilet paper. There are lost moments that are irreplaceable – concerts, sports seasons, celebrations, my daughter’s graduation. I am more than ready to emerge from the protective cocoon of my home. But I want to come out different. It would be supremely disappointing if, after months of being holed up, a caterpillar emerged with 16 legs and went back to eating leaves.

The disciples come to mind.  After three years of traveling with Jesus, witnessing His miracles, performing mind-blowing acts with His authority, they encountered an event that shattered their expectations.  And what did they do in response? They went back to fishing. Business as usual. I can’t imagine their hearts were in it, though, because when John said, “Hey, that’s Jesus on the beach!”, Peter couldn’t get to shore fast enough (John 21:1-7).

We’ve experienced something that has shattered our expectations on a global scale.  Do we really want to go back to business as usual or do we want to take this opportunity to be transformed?  To make the radical shift from caterpillar to butterfly?

One thing I hope we don’t lose is our sense that all life is precious, valuable, worth protecting and preserving.  Regardless of your opinion about the response to the coronavirus, we’ve stayed home, surrendered our freedoms, shuttered our businesses, in a massive effort to save lives.  How can we go back to considering some lives worth less than others, to considering some people worthless at all?

A tremendous possibility lies before us to be so much more than we were.  It’s an invitation to come awake, to come alive, to begin again. This invitation is nothing new – God has been calling us to a ‘greater than’ life from the very beginning. 

Those who become Christians become new persons. They are not the same anymore, for the old life is gone. A new life has begun! 2 Corinthians 5:17

I grew up in a liturgical church tradition, where each week there was a time of corporate prayer with an open mic for sharing requests and praises.  After each person finished, the congregation responded, “Lord, have mercy.” Now I live in the south, where it’s not uncommon to hear a “Lawd have mercy” outside of church, although usually it has little to do with the Lord.

 

Maybe you’re more familiar with the phrase “at the mercy of” which means to be in a situation where you can’t prevent yourself from being harmed by something outside your control.  We’re all living at the mercy of something outside our control these days.

 

I don’t know about you, but I have a deep longing for mercy right now. I hear the stories of suffering and sickness, see the prediction charts and difficult decisions and I cry out, “Lord, have mercy!”  But my need for mercy is nothing new. It’s just my awareness of my need, my hunger for it, that’s fresh in my mind. Because mercy is more than just pity or sympathy. It’s the expression of compassion to someone who you have the power and the right to punish.

 

Without mercy, I never had a chance.

 

But there’s good news.  Mercy is who God is. He isn’t blind, unmoved or indifferent to our physical, emotional, mental or spiritual desperation (Exodus 3:7).  Does He see what’s going on? Yes. Does He even care? Absolutely. “In all their suffering he also suffered, and he personally rescued them. In his love and mercy he redeemed them. He lifted them up and carried them through all the years” (Isaiah 63:9).

 

Mercy is illogical and unreasonable and it comes at great cost. And it changes the equation. It alters the outcome.  In the face of these incomprehensible, impossibly big challenges and troubles, what more could we ask for than mercy?  Oh Lord, have mercy!

 

O my God, listen to me and hear my request. Open your eyes and see our wretchedness… We do not ask because we deserve help, but because you are so merciful.  Daniel 9:18