Blessed are the Merciful
The virtue of waste mercy
“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” - Matthew 5:7
It’s common for scholars to divide the Beatitudes of Matthew 5 into two sets of four. The first set (verse 3-5) is grouped both by its repetition of the Greek letter pi:
Blessed are the poor (ptoekoi).
Blessed are those who mourn (penthootase).
Blessed are the meek (praeis). Etc.
And by the seemingly passive, even down-trodden condition of those being described: The poor in spirit, the mourning, the hungering, etc.
In contrast, the second set of Beatitudes (vs. 7-10) are united by their more active description:
Blessed and the merciful…
Blessed are the pure in heart…
Blessed are the peacemakers. Etc.
This popular structure is made more plausible by the fact that each of these sets of blessings (in the Greek) consist of exactly 36 words.
Now, some scholars, like Neil McEleney, also see a chiastic pattern in these verses. A chiasm is a literary device in which a series of ideas is presented and is then repeated in reverse order. The result of which, according to one writer, is a “mirror effect” where the ideas set forth are then “reflected back,” as the passage moves toward. This “reflection” is accomplished either by a repetition of words, or related forms.
An obvious example of this structure would be Mark 2:27: “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” This chiasm uses the simple AB-BA pattern. The words Sabbath and man being repeated in reverse order.
A slightly more complicated chiasm comes in Genesis 9:6.
(A) Whoever sheds
(B) the blood
(C) of man
(C’) by man
(B’) shall his blood
(A’) be shed.
The pattern here is ABC-CBA. Such chiastic formulations are very common in ancient literature. We find them not only in scripture, but also the epic poetry of Classical Greece. And their purpose is to draw the audience’s attention to the middle, or turning point, of the sequence.
In both of our previous examples, the emphasis is on the word “man.” “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath.” “Whoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed.”
The chiasm is also a mnemonic device. Meaning that it not only empowers the poet to add beauty and emphasis to his verse, but it allows the bard (and his audience) to easily recall the composition.
Thus, it’s not surprising that Jesus would utilize such a literary convention in his preaching. Living as he did in what was essentially an oral culture.
Now, the chiastic pattern found in Matthew 5:3-10 is more complicated than our previous examples: ABCB-BCBA. And it is not a repeating of words which connects the “mirrored” ideas (like the repeating of the words “shed”, “blood”, and “man” in Genesis 9:6), but matching verb tense and voice (past and future tense; active and passive voice). Which is a little harder for non-Greek speakers to see (and hear for that matter). For it is completely lost in English translations.
“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn,
For they shall be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek,
For they shall inherit the [a]earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
For they shall be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful,
For they shall obtain mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart,
For they shall see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers,
For they shall be called sons of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
The point is that at the center of this chiasm notice (in verses 6 and 7) is the receiving of righteousness and mercy. Which makes perfect sense, for in Matthew’s Gospel, as I have said previously, righteousness is a central theme.
STOLEN MERCY
Mercy and righteousness (or justice) are bound together in the biblical view—the Psalter giving us perhaps the most provocative illustration by casting the two virtues (mercy and righteousness, along with truth and peace) as thwarted lovers who rendezvous in the street with a kiss.
A holy matrimony which, unfortunately, our contemporary culture has tried to tear asunder. Struggling as they might, to keep mercy, while putting away justice, which is a little like trying to divorce your wife, while retaining her services as a helpmeet.
It will not do. You cannot have one without the other.
For mercy presupposes justice. Mercy (at least in the legal sense) is the choice to suspend your rightful, retributive recourse for a wrong which has been committed against you.
When a servant who embezzles 10,000 talents from his master is caught, for example, his Lord has two options from which he may choose: He can either seek justice by throwing the man into debtor’s prison until he pays what he owes, or he can suspend his claim to justice, and show mercy by absorbing the cost.
Thus, notice that through the very act of suspending justice, mercy attests to the necessity of it. Otherwise, what does it suspend? If you lose justice, then you lose mercy.
Yet, our societal embrace of a just-less mercy (a mercy which has been “liberated” from justice) has been so widespread, that many now view mercy as a right instead of a duty.
Failing to note the irony, they insist that they are owed mercy.
A “transformation of charity into legal entitlement” which former Supreme Court Justice, Antonin Scalia, noted “has produced donors without love and recipients without gratitude.”
A sign that the mercy you are offering is counterfeit (that it is just-less) is if it costs you nothing. If mercy is free to the one who bestows it, not to the one who receives it, it means that he is giving away what belongs to someone else.
A legal illustration: If I catch a thief trying to steal my iPhone, and in the scuffle the phone falls to the floor and shatters, I have two options in terms of a response: I can either seek justice by calling the police and pressing charges and the perpetrator will be punished and ordered to pay restitution. Or, I can suspend my claim to justice, show mercy, absorb the cost myself and let the thief go.
But let’s say that you are the one who has caught the thief who stole my iPhone. And wanting to show yourself compassionate you let him go. Well, unless you are willing to buy me a new phone you have extended stolen mercy. For you have given away what rightfully belongs to me. Which, by the way, Christians do all the time when it comes to the debt of sin.
We just love to give away mercy we have stolen from God as we let people out of their divine obligations. Forgiving their debts. Sanctimoniously extending God’s mercy apart from his justice. Like when we assure a loved one who is enslaved to the sin of homosexuality that “it’s okay.”
“It’s alright. We are all sinners, after all.”
“None of us is perfect.”
“God’s Kingdom is made up of broken people.” Etc.
All the while telling ourselves that such “tolerance” is an act of mercy, when what it really is, is an attempt to re-negotiate the terms of the covenant without consulting the primary signatory. Who has spoken plainly, once and for all, on the matter. In writing!
“Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality, nor thieves, nor the greedy, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you.”
– 1 Corinthians 6:9-12
There’s the Gospel, not, such are some of you. Paul—who refers to himself as the chief of sinners—is not saying “Hey, we are all sinners. How can I condemn you for your sin.”
No, if you engage in these sins, you will not inherit the kingdom of God. Full stop.
STOLEN VIRTUE
The reason why people are so eager to steal mercy is because they want to feel good about themselves. It’s the same reason why people steal valor by pretending that they are a war hero when they are not.
The bestowing of mercy brings one blessing and joy, as it says in Proverbs 14:21. The problem is that we want this blessing on the cheap. We want to be virtuous apart from the sacrifice which merits it. To give gifts which we haven’t paid for. Which we haven’t earned.
Deep inside each of us, in other words, is that sanctimonious politician who feigns virtuousness by gifting taxpayer money to his constituents through entitlement programs. There is a Cory Booker in all of us.
Mercy is an expensive gift.
That’s why it produces genuine gratitude in the one who receives it. And it is also what makes entitlement so egregious. To feign mercy when forgiving debts owed to someone else is to steal virtue, which is evil.
Another common attempt to divorce mercy from justice is seen among the more Pharisaical types, like social justice warriors, who attempt to promote justice in the absence of mercy. A merciless justice. This too will not do.
For again, there is a big lie at the heart of such an approach, this time instead of stolen mercy, it is stolen righteousness. For there is no distinction, says Paul, we have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and therefore must acknowledge the indispensability of mercy.
The point is that the Bible joins mercy and righteousness together, and therefore what God has joined, man must not separate. So, whatever we say about mercy must always be balanced by what scripture has to say about justice.
Mercy and justice are wed in the divine nature, and therefore in the moral law.
Now, much of what Jesus says about mercy in the first Gospel is not new, meaning that it is in strict continuity with the teaching of the Old Testament and even many of its first century Jewish interpreters. The writers and interpreters of the Hebrew Bible exalt mercy as both a human virtue, and a divine attribute.
One passage which establishes this beautifully is Psalm 72. Now, the Seventy-Second Psalm is a bit unusual, of course, because it is attributed to Solomon. As a result, some have speculated that David must have written this particular hymn for his son. Thinking that the attribution should read “for Solomon,” instead of “from Solomon.”
However, it seems more likely that Solomon was the compiler Book Two of the Psalms (Psalms 42-71) and that he then composed Psalm 72 as a fitting summary of the collection. For this hymn of praise simultaneously exalts both King David and his heir who will one day sit on his throne for eternity (the Messiah).
One of the primary attributes highlighted is their mercy.
Now, in this passage mercy is viewed in the more general sense of a compassion for those who are suffering, mixed with a desire to right the situation, whatever the costs.
“For [the Messiah] will deliver the needy when he cries,
The poor also, and him who has no helper.
He will spare the poor and needy,
And will save the souls of the needy.
He will redeem their life from oppression and violence;
And precious shall be their blood in His sight.” – Psalm 72:12-14
Unlike the deities of many competing cultures, the future King of Israel is a King of mercy who cares for the downtrodden, the poor, and the oppressed. Their lives, while inconsequential to most everyone else (for they have nothing with which to reciprocate other than their gratitude), are precious in his sight.
Note: here the idea is not that the gift of mercy is to be bestowed upon the foolish, upon those who are worse than infidels because they will not work and so they do not deserve to eat. Mercy, rather, is for those who are needy because of circumstances beyond their control. The widow and the orphan. Or, at least, the repentant sluggard. For mercy, like your breath (Proverbs 23), is wasted on a fool.
A PRODUCT OF FAITH
Now, while there is great continuity between Jesus and the Old Testament on the subject of mercy, Matthew’s Jesus does seem to augment the teaching which had preceded him. We see this augmentation throughout the Sermon on the Mount. “You have heard it said, but I say to you…”
He does this in part by making mercy central to his gospel proclamation. Meaning that he considers it, along with justice and faith, one of the “weightier matters,” as he says in Matthew 23.
A centrality we see in the sobering judgment scene depicted in Chapter 25. Which merits reading in its entirety.
“When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on his glorious throne. Before him will be gathered all the nations, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. And he will place the sheep on his right, but the goats on the left. Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’
Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’
And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.’
Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’
Then they also will answer, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?’
Then he will answer them, saying, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.” – Matthew 25:31-46
To many modern evangelicals, this scene may be a bit bewildering. For Jesus’ ultimate criterion for determining whether one will inherit the kingdom of God, or lose everything in Satan’s Gehenna, is not faith alone, or even a faith which has expressed itself in some liturgical form like the sinner’s prayer, or walking the isle, or baptism, etc., but whether one has shown mercy.
Were you merciful to the hungry, to the thirsty, to the stranger, to the naked, to the sick, to the imprisoned? To those who are weak and vulnerable? Again, the widow and the orphan as James characterizes them.
Jesus makes it clear that eternal life requires more than mere belief. That it requires more than belief consummated in ceremony. And I am not, in any way, disparaging ceremony or the sacraments. As you know, at least for an Evangelical, I have a high view of liturgy.
I also fully affirm with Luther that faith is the sole means by which we will receive our inheritance. But, that faith, if it is to be effectual in the end, must bear moral fruit. James makes the point plain:
“What good is it, my brothers, if someone claims to have faith, but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you tells him, “Go in peace; stay warm and well fed,” but does not provide for his physical needs, what good is that? So too, faith by itself, if it does not result in action is dead.” – James 2:14-17
James is not speaking pragmatically here, observing how worthless a fruitless faith is to your brothers and sisters. He is speaking ontologically, saying that a necessary condition of saving faith is that it produces mercy—meaning that without it (a merciless faith), it’s no faith at all.
I mean, it’s not for nothing that the Hebrew writer exhorts us to “strive for the holiness without which no one will see the Lord.”
In context this is not speaking of an objective, imputed holiness (which is added to our account at conversion), but a subjective one which is worked-out in our day-to-day lives.
Saving faith must bear moral fruit, and in particular mercy.
A truth which lies at the heart of today’s Beatitude: for it is only the merciful who will be shown mercy. It is a truth that the scribes and Pharisees of Jesus’ day neglected. And for which Jesus admonished them in Matthew 9:13, “Go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’”
The Pharisees had placed public liturgy above the practice of mercy. A choice which condemned them. A liturgical faith is not enough.
A DIVINE PERFECTION
This brings us to the second way in which Jesus augmented the Old Testament teaching on mercy. In addition to making mercy central, the Messiah also expanded its scope. For it is not just our poor and downtrodden brothers and sisters who should be shown mercy (as both the Old Testament and its interpreters affirmed), but even our enemies.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” – Matthew 5:43-48
This teaching would have shocked Jesus’ original hearers. And it should shock us today. For it reveals that not only is mercy demanded of us, but that it is itself demanding.
It requires showing mercy even to those who would never return the favor. To be willing to give those who have hated us, who have worked to destroy us, the most precious gift we have. The absorbing of their debt against us.
Which is the very mind of Christ.
There is so much to say here (for there are many nuances needing to be foregrounded) but I must reserve most of it for when we come to this teaching later in Chapter 5.
For now, let me conclude by drawing our attention to Jesus’ exhortation at the end of this section. “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” In the Luke account it says: “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.”
Mercy is a divine perfection. One of the distinguishing marks of a child of God is that his mercy mirrors that of his Father, meaning that he extends mercy to those who cannot (or will not) reciprocate. He is not only willing to take up his cross, but to be mocked by those for whom he has done it.
For to love those who love you, or to do good to those who return the favor is not much of a virtue, says Jesus. Even the sinners do this. The real virtue is in doing good to those who cannot (or will not) respond in kind. In the hopes that this radical show of kindness will enliven their hearts with genuine gratitude. It is a willingness to risk wasting our mercy which separates us from those who are only the earthly sons of Adam.
A final illustration: the heavy-weight championship in 1974 between Muhammad Ali and George Foreman. The Rumble in the Jungle. Leading up to the fight, Foreman grew to absolutely despise Ali. All his mocking and trash talking. Ali had become the darling of the media. During the fight Ali had gained the upper hand and had an opportunity to just destroy Foreman. To not only win, but to do so in a way that would have humiliated his opponent.
But Ali pulled his punches and showed mercy to Foreman. At that moment, Forman said all his hatred toward Ali left him. Because he had shown him great mercy. Think about it, the stakes for Ali couldn’t have been higher. The sacrifice couldn’t have been greater. It was a giant risk to take and yet he chose to extend mercy anyway.