Fringe: The Fringe Conduct of Mercy God Favors (Matt. 5:7) Chris Altrock

In 1981 a young boy named Adam Walsh was abducted and murdered.  The search for Adam’s killer eventually led the father John Walsh to become the host of a popular television series called “America’s Most Wanted.”  In one of his books, John Walsh sheds light on some of the criminals featured on his show—their crimes, their attempts to escape justice, their capture and eventual punishment.  The name of the book is “No Mercy.”[i] The title resonates with many people.  When it comes to America’s Most Wanted, we want “no mercy.”  We want them to get what they deserve.  We do not want to give them mercy.

A poster was produced in the aftermath of the September 11 attacks.  The poster said “God may have mercy on them, we will not.”  The message?  You mess with America, and there’s no mercy.

These are extreme examples.  But they point to the reality that mercy is not something we dole out quickly and indiscriminately in our culture.  Mercy is rather rare.  In fact, I think I can say that mercy is not highly valued among Americans.

This is especially true given a certain definition of the word “mercy.”  In the Bible, multiple Hebrew and Greek words are translated with the English word “mercy.”  The word has a range of meanings.  But here’s my definition—I believe it is consistent with the general use of “mercy” in the Bible:  mercy is an act of love that does not fit the circumstance. If John Walsh forgave the murderer of his son, that would be act of love that did not fit the circumstance.  If the American government simply forgave the powers behind the September 11 attacks, that would be an act of love that did not fit the circumstance.  That kind of mercy is not something you find often in this country.

This is true even when we think of more positive circumstances where mercy might be demonstrated.  We might like to think that our culture is willing to show mercy when it comes to people with legitimate needs.  But Bryan Wilkerson points out that we are far more likely to have pity or compassion than we are to have mercy.[ii]

• In our culture, pity is when you feel sorry for someone.  You see that an elderly neighbor needs help maintaining her lawn.  You have pity on her.  But pity generally does not lead to action.  Mercy always leads to action.  And in that regard, pity is far more common in our culture than mercy.
• In our culture, compassion is the expected response to a need.  When a tragedy hits another country like Haiti and we are moved to send money, that’s compassion.  Compassion describes a response that is expected.  And compassion is common in our culture.  But mercy is not.  Mercy is showing love where it’s not expected and in a way that is not expected.  There’s something surprising and abnormal about mercy.

Look around at your school.  Watch the news.  Read the paper.  Watch your coworkers.  You’re likely to see a lot of pity expressed.  You’ll probably see compassion demonstrated.  But you won’t find a lot of mercy.  Mercy is not highly valued among Americans.

It’s not even necessarily valued by religious Americans.  I participated recently in a gathering of some area church leaders.  Some of us suggested that the area churches ought to have a day next year when we all join together in some service to the community.  Kind of like a WorkCamp for adults.  But later some of the church leaders objected to the idea.  They said, “We need to study that issue first.”  They weren’t sure if it was appropriate for churches to unite in acts of service.  They weren’t sure if going out and just serving with no other agenda was really that important.

Religious people have long struggled with mercy.  One of the things Jesus was most frustrated with was the lack of mercy among the religious:

• 10 And as Jesus reclined at table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were reclining with Jesus and his disciples. 11 And when the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 12 But when he heard it, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, and not sacrifice.’ For I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.” (Mt 9:10–13 ESV).  Eating with tax collectors and sinners was an act of love that didn’t fit the circumstance, at least according to the Pharisees.  And they wanted nothing to do with it.  They wanted “no mercy” on those sinners.
• 23 “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others. 24 You blind guides, straining out a gnat and swallowing a camel! (Mt 23:23–24 ESV).  Religious people in Jesus’ day got an “A” when it came to dressing right for a worship service, and singing the right songs in the right way, and being able to quote the right book, chapter and verse.  But they got an “F” when it came to showing mercy—to demonstrating love in ways that didn’t fit the circumstance.

It turns out that mercy is not highly valued even among the religious. And Jesus could hardly stand it. 

Author James Bryan Smith writes that mercy is being “generous to a fault.”[iii] He tells of a grandfather who ran a fix-it shop in a small town in Indiana.  People would bring to the shop broken items to be fixed.  The grandfather would fix them.  But often the customer wouldn’t be able to pay for repairs.  Yet frequently the grandfather would give the item back anyway—repaired for free.  As a result, the grandfather’s family lived very meagerly.  He was, in Smith’s words, “generous to a fault.”  It’s one thing to be generous.  It’s another to be generous to a fault, to be too generous, to be overly generous.  But that’s mercy.  It’s an act of love that doesn’t fit the circumstance.  And it’s not a quality highly valued even among religious people.

Bryan Wilkerson defines mercy as “a bleeding heart.”[iv] That’s a phrase used not too positively today.  When we say someone has a bleeding heart, we mean they are too quick to give, too quick to help, to generous with their resources.  They need some restraint.  Not even religious people want to be known as having a bleeding heart.

To use the title of this series, mercy is a fringe conduct.  It’s a fringe action.  It’s not something we normally see.

Yet that fringe conduct is one of the most important qualities for those who follow Jesus.  As we’ve seen in this series, following Jesus means living under the reign of God, a reign that consists of some pretty unusual conduct.  And in this morning’s text, we see the importance of mercy: 7″Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” (Matt. 5:7 ESV).  God, Jesus says, shows favor on the merciful.  Those most central to the world as God wants it to be, are those who show mercy.  Mercy may be fringe in our world.  But it is favored in God’s world.

It was a central quality in the life of Jesus.  Mercy was exemplified by Jesus. While mercy is not often shown, it is very often needed.  There were few people in Jesus’ day showing mercy.  But there were many people seeking mercy.  People in great need.  Miserable people.  Hurting people.  Ashamed people.  Jesus’ world was filled with people needing more than pity, needing more than compassion.  They needed mercy.  And where did they go to find it?  Where did they go to find an act of love that would not fit their circumstance?  Where did they go to find someone who was generous to a fault?  Where did they go to get what no one else would give?  They went to Jesus:

• 27 And as Jesus passed on from there, two blind men followed him, crying aloud, “Have mercy on us, Son of David.” (Mt 9:27 ESV).
• 21 And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22 And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David…” (Mt 15:21–22 ESV).
• 14 And when they came to the crowd, a man came up to him and, kneeling before him, 15 said, “Lord, have mercy on my son… (Mt 17:14–15 ESV).
• 29 And as they went out of Jericho, a great crowd followed him. 30 And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” (Mt 20:29–30 ESV).

Like ours, theirs was a culture where mercy was rare.  They couldn’t even find mercy among the religious.  So time and time again what led people to Jesus was this—they knew that Jesus was one of the only people from whom they’d get mercy.  Jesus was the rare person who exemplified mercy.  When they thought of Jesus, they thought of mercy.

I wonder if that’s what people today think of us.  There are few people in our day showing mercy.  But there are many people seeking mercy.  Our world is filled with people needing more than pity, needing more than compassion.  They need mercy.  And where do they go to find it?  Where do they go to find an act of love that would not fit their circumstance?  Where do they go to get what no one else will give?  When those people think of us who follow Jesus, do they think of mercy?  Do they look to us for mercy?  I hope so.  It is one of those qualities favored by God.  It’s a fringe conduct or action to be exemplified by all of Jesus’ followers.

Earlier this school year a family in our Houston Levee community lost their one-year-old child in a tragic accident.  Not a single person at Highland knew that family.  We only learned of their plight because their two daughters go to Macon Hall Elementary, and we’ve adopted Macon Hall Elementary, and the story was being circulated in the classrooms of Macon Hall.  But when many of you heard the story, you didn’t just have pity.  You didn’t just show compassion.  You showed mercy.  One afternoon, Lawana Maxwell, Amy Bethea, and Marisol Rosas met with Mrs. Martinez and her children.  Through Marisol’s Spanish translation, they told Mrs. Martinez that many at Highland were praying for her family.  They tried to connect her with a Christian counselor.  And they presented 20 handwritten cards of sympathy, some cash, Build-a-Bears for the girls, $200 to a memorial fund, a Visa cash card, and a Panera gift card.  That’s mercy.  Jesus says that’s what is central to living under God’s reign.

There are many opportunities in the next few weeks to practice mercy:

• On Dec. 12 you can bring toys for the poor and participate in the MUM Christmas Store.
• On December 5 we’ll have our Special Contribution for World and Urban Missions.  It’s a contribution that takes cash and transforms it into acts of love.  Homeless people are fed, destitute mothers and their children are housed, the unemployed are equipped for work, orphaned children find homes.  And this happens not just here in the Mid-South through MUM, Agape, Hopeworks, Lifeline, and Member Services.  It also happens in Papua New Guinea through the Melanesian Bible College, in Ukraine through the Bila Tskerkva Church of Christ and the Ukrainian Education Center, and in the Philippines through the Shiloh Christian School.  Our financial gifts on Dec. 5 will be transformed into acts of mercy.
• On Nov. 21 you can bring sacks filled with Thanksgiving food for the needy in Memphis.
• On November 14 we’re devoting a Sunday to mercy.  Called Go MAD, that Sunday will be a chance for us to Make a Difference in the lives of people.  After an abbreviated worship service from 9:00-9:45 AM, we’ll be dismissed to go and be generous to a fault.  Sunday School classes and Reach Groups can pursue any number of opportunities we’ve provided.  It’s a chance make favored what is too often fringe: mercy.
• And you can help provide baby mobiles and CD players for the new wing of LeBonheur Children’s Hospital by signing up at the table today.

It might be tempting to think that all of this is nice.  But it’s not really that important.  It’s not really that central.  That’s what our culture would say.  That’s what some religious people would say.  But Jesus disagrees.  It’s a quality to be demonstrated by all of Jesus’ followers. 

In her book Almost Christian Kenda Dean writes about Faith Christian School in Grapevine, TX.[v] Grapevine, TX has a $90,000 median family income and award-winning schools like Faith Christian School.  Faith’s football team has seventy players, eleven coaches, the latest equipment, and hundreds of involved parents.  In November 2008, the Faith Christian School Lions were 7–2 going into a game with the Gainesville State Tornados. Gainesville State was the complete opposite of Faith Christian.  Their record was 0–8.  They had fourteen players who wore seven-year-old pads and dilapidated helmets.  Worse, they were escorted by twelve security guards who took off the players’ handcuffs before the game.  Gainesville State is a prison north of Dallas and gets its students by court order. Many of their students have convictions for drugs, assaults, and robberies.  Their families have disowned them. They play every game on the road.  Kenda Dean writes, “Before the game, Faith’s head coach Kris Hogan had an idea. What if, just for one night, half of the Faith fans cheered for the kids on the opposing team? “Here is the message I want you to send,” Hogan wrote in an email to Faith’s faithful. “You are just as valuable as any other person on Planet Earth.” The Faith fans agreed. When the Gainesville Tornados took the field, they crashed through a banner made by Faith fans that read “Go Tornados!” The Gainesville players were surprised to find themselves running through a forty-foot spirit line made up of cheering fans. From their benches at the side of the field, the Gainesville team heard two hundred fans on the bleachers behind them, cheering for them by name, led by real cheerleaders (Hogan had recruited the JV squad to cheer for the opposing team). “I thought maybe they were confused,” said Alex, a Gainesville lineman. Another lineman, Gerald, said: “We can tell people are a little afraid of us when we come to the games. . . . But these people, they were yellin’ for us! By our names!” Gainesville’s quarterback and middle linebacker Isaiah shook his head in disbelief. “I never thought I’d hear people cheering for us to hit their kids. . . . But they wanted us to!”  At the end of the game (Faith won, 33–14), the losing team practically danced off the field with their fingers pointing #1 in the air. They gave Gainesville’s head coach Mark Williams what ESPN sportswriter Rick Reilly described as the first Gatorade bath in history for a 0–9 coach. When the teams gathered in the middle of the field to pray, Isaiah surprised everybody by asking to lead. (“We had no idea what the kid was going to say,” remembers Coach Hogan.) This was Isaiah’s prayer: “Lord, I don’t know how this happened, so I don’t know how to say thank You, but I never would’ve known there was so many people in the world that cared about us.” As guards escorted the Tornados back to their bus, each player received a bag filled with burgers, fries, candy, a Bible, and an encouraging letter from a Faith player. Before he stepped onto the bus, Williams turned and grabbed Hogan hard by the shoulders: “You’ll never know what your people did for these kids tonight. You’ll never, ever know.” The Gainesville players crowded onto one side of the bus, peering out the windows at an unbelievable sight—people they had never met before smiling at them, waving goodbye, as the bus drove into the night.” That Christian school didn’t just show pity.  They didn’t just show compassion.  They showed mercy.  An act of love that didn’t fit the circumstance.  May you go and do the same.

---

[i] John Walsh, No Mercy (Pocketstar, 1999).

[ii] Bryan Wilkerson, “A Bleeding Hearts Club?” preachingtoday.com.

[iii] James Bryan Smith The Good and Beautiful Life (IVP, 2009), 59.

[iv] Wilkerson.

[v] Kenda Dean Almost Christian Kindle Edition, location 1463.