Mercy is the stuff of life. You can live for eleven days without the regenerative endowments of sleep, but you can’t live one moment without mercy.

We are all given life, sustained in life, held together, glued to this cosmic spinning rock, by the merciful gaze of God.

Our souls flourish through the mercy of others. We grow only in so far as we show mercy to others. Without mercy we perish, long before any life-giving properties offered by any vision. Without showing mercy, others die to us, and to themselves.

Why do we suppose Jesus enjoined us to forgive others so that we may be forgiven? (Why do we think that these words refer to a spiritual balance sheet? We compulsively spiritualize blocks of scripture and then trip over the deeper truth they hold. The truth often being anthropological rather than theological.) Do we suppose that the forgiveness command is given so that it will please God when it is obeyed? Or do we suppose reciprocal mercy is asked for so that we humans can live, and grow and experience full life? Which truly pleases God.

Our world runs down because we fail to give and receive mercy. Without mercy, in the daily rough and tumble, how are we to value or honour each other the way we all want to be valued and honoured?

Years ago, my friend Mary told this story–a story from a different time. I recall it as follows:

An esteemed and wealthy man came to an island to find a bride. Custom required the man to assess the available women and offer the number of cows that the assessment determined. Thus, there were one, two, even three-cow women.

On the island lived a dowdy, inelegant, and self-conscious woman. The distinguished suitor astounded the father of the woman by offering seven cows for his daughter. He then left the island for the appropriate period of time to allow for a decision.

When he returned, the woman, his bride-to-be, was transformed. During his absence, the woman’s father, who had given up on her, began to treat her with respect. Those who knew the woman changed their minds about her and met her with new regard. And as the story got out, people in the community addressed her with the honour due a seven-cow-woman.

And she, in burgeoning response to this change in reception, straightened her back, lifted her eyes, and having regained her own latent beauty, became truly beautiful.

A total of 15 Canadian soldiers and one diplomat have died since 2002 when Canada first became involved in Afghanistan following the ouster of the hardline Taliban regime.

This weekend 3 more soldiers were killed. War, this war, like all wars are complicated and leave us perplexed and paralysed.

Is it possible to find and commit to a Christian position?

“Do you think that [Jesus] was sent [by God], as might be supposed, to establish some sort of political sovereignty [tyrannis], to inspire fear and terror? Not so. But in gentleness and meekness He sent him… Christians are not distinguished from the rest of humanity either in locality or in speech or in customs. For they do not dwell somewhere in cities of their own, neither do they use some different language… But while they dwell in cities of Greeks and Barbarians as the lot of each is cast… the constitution of their citizenship is nevertheless quite amazing and admittedly paradoxical. They dwell in their own countries, but only as sojourners… Every country is a fatherland to them, and every fatherland is a foreign country.” (The Epistle of Mathetes to Diognetus)

“It has taken me a while to learn that there is no “them” and “us” in the eyes of God.”, writes Bev Curtis in today’s Religion section of the Edmonton Journal. Bev Curtis’ story will resonate well with “mission-types”; it’s a wonderful piece of writing.

But the experience of being blessed by giving, is something that is not reserved for mission or church workers, it’s a universal human experience. It’s a sign our common humanity points to something far beyond our hide-bound individualism. In Matthew 25 terms, the Jesus we serve in others always brings out the Jesus in us, and vice versa. Through active compassion the categories break down.

I wish this, no “us” and “them” lesson, was one that once learned, always remembered. In my case, I find I need refreshers. The categories need deconstructing every day. And the deconstruction is only done through acts of human kindness.

Which brings me to my wife. Debbie works at an inner-city mission as a Human Resources consultant. Her door revolves with, as they say, people issues. She told me this morning of the thought that crossed her mind as one more “unscheduled” person knocked on her door the other day. “You’re interupting my day…!”

However, she did invite the person in and she listened and learned and cared and after, felt encouraged and inspired.

You’re interupting my day…no, you are my day.