What We Don't Deserve
What Jesus means when he says "Blessed are the merciful."
by Mark Galli

"Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy." —Matthew 5:7, ESV
At first, Matthew 5:7 seems to imply that Jesus is making a deal with us: If we go out and show mercy to others, God will show mercy to us.

And it seems like a good deal. I mean, how hard could it be to show mercy to others? So we'll practice a little mercy, and then God will act the same toward us, and all will be well with the world. And for eternity.

Except that it's not that easy to be merciful.

Your brother borrows your iPod, and when he gives it back, it doesn't play. He says, "Sorry."

You say, "'Sorry' doesn't cut it. You need to replace what you broke."

He says, "OK. That's fair. But I don't have any money till next week. And then I need to buy a gift for Mom's birthday, and I need to start saving money for the prom."

You say, "I don't care. You ruined my iPod, and you need to replace it."

He says, "I know. I'm sorry. But things are tight right now. Can't you give me a break?"

And that's when it's really hard to forgive. To let it go. To be merciful.

Just as it's hard to leave your own friends to sit down by the class reject sitting alone at lunch. Or to give your last $15 to the food drive for the hungry when you had your heart set on going to a movie with friends that afternoon. Or to want to even talk to the person who made the cut on the basketball team when you didn't.

That's when "Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy" doesn't seem like much of a good deal. It feels like a curse. All we can think about is how unmerciful we can be when we're self-centered, or indifferent, or even cruel. Then we're thinking, I'm in trouble. I'm never going to receive mercy at this rate. I don't deserve it.

And that's when the turning point comes. It's at that point that the mercy of God starts making its way into our lives. It begins by us turning that hopelessness into prayer:

"Lord, I'm in trouble. I'm self-centered. I don't deserve your mercy, but I need it."

And the Lord gives us a break. He forgives. He shows mercy.

And that's why it's easier to give your brother a break. And to practice mercy in all sorts of difficult situations. Not because we're trying to prove something, or get something from God, but simply because God has proven something to us by giving us something we didn't deserve: mercy. We become merciful because we've been shown mercy.

When Jesus says blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy, he assumes that you really can't be merciful until you've received mercy in the first place. Mercy is not a deal, but an ongoing lifestyle. We receive mercy then we show mercy and as a result we receive more mercy, and as a result, we then show more mercy—and on and on.

It's like we're rolling a snowball downhill. We start with a small one, maybe the size of a baseball. As we toss it down the hill, immediately gravity starts to pull it farther downhill. As it rolls over, of course, it collects more snow. Now it's bigger and heavier, and so gravity pulls it even harder. It rolls over even faster, and collects more snow, and gets heavier, and rolls faster. And so on. Before you know it, it's a huge ball, bounding down the hill. That's how it is with mercy: The more we receive mercy, the more we give mercy.

Because we get distracted and have long bouts with selfishness, we collect sticks and branches in our little ball, and that slows us down. Sometimes we come to a complete halt, stuck halfway down the mountain. So we find ourselves remembering that we didn't deserve to roll as far as we had in the first place, and that without God's mercy, we'll go no farther. And that's when God comes along, trims off the branches sticking out from us, and gives us that little push to start us rolling downhill again, so that we can practice and enjoy mercy upon mercy upon mercy upon mercy.

God bless! =D

On a map in the back of my Bible, each of Paul’s missionary journeys is shown by a colored line with arrows indicating his direction of travel. On the first three, the arrows lead away from his place of departure and back to a point of return. On the fourth journey, however, Paul was traveling as a prisoner, bound for trial before Caesar, and the arrows point only one direction, ending in Rome.

We might be tempted to call this an unfortunate time in Paul’s life, if it were not for his view that God was leading and using him just as much on this journey as He did on the previous three.

He wrote: “I want you to know, brethren, that the things which happened to me have actually turned out for the furtherance of the gospel, so that it has become evident to the whole palace guard, and to all the rest, that my chains are in Christ; and most of the brethren in the Lord, having become confident by my chains, are much more bold to speak the Word without fear” (Phil. 1:12-14).

Even when our journey in life is marked by confinement and limitations, we can be sure that the Lord will encourage others through us as we speak His Word and trust in Him.
— David C. McCasland

For the Christian, what looks like a detour may actually be a new road to blessing.