Bag End, Hobbiton. April 13, Shire Year, 1418. - Gandalf’s news grows darker: the unwilling service of Gollum, Bilbo’s nemesis, has resulted in danger for the free people of the West. Hobbits, Frodo now knows, have of late come to the attention of Sauron the Great; worse, the Shire is likely known to the Lord of the Rings, but worst of all is the fact that the name of Baggins is now of interest in the land of Mordor.

‘But this is terrible!’ cried Frodo. ‘Far worse than the worst that I imagined from your hints and warnings . . . For now I am really afraid. What am I to do? What a pity that Bilbo did not stab that vile creature, when he had a chance.’

“‘Pity? It was Pity that stayed his hand. Pity, and Mercy: not to strike without need. And he has been well rewarded, Frodo. Be sure that he took so little hurt from the evil, and escaped in the end, because he began his ownership of the Ring so. With Pity . . .

‘I can’t understand you. Do you mean to say that you, and the Elves, have let him live on after all those horrible deeds? Now at any rate he is as bad as an Orc, and just an enemy. He deserves death.’

‘Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends. I have not much hope that Gollum can be cured before he dies, but there is a chance of it. And he is bound up with the fate of the Ring. My heart tells me that he has some part to play yet, for good or ill, before the end; and when that comes, the pity of Bilbo may rule the fate of many - yours not least.’” - LOTR, p. 59

It is a difficult and contrary attribute, this God-like and God-given capacity for mercy. There is within us a competing disposition and desire, no less a part of the image of God, that yearns for justice and judgment. Such are the logical and natural outcomes of sin: consequences of some sort needs follow, appropriate to the offense, but warranted still.

Who has not wanted to seek justice when wronged? Whether it be the loss suffered through the trivial theft of property or the more serious violation of our being or the final destruction of our bodies, the scales of justice in our souls await balancing. Crime and consequence; offense and restitution; sin and judgment. Are these not desirable to and attainable for us?

Yet the message of the Testaments is clear. “A jealous and avenging God is the LORD; the LORD is avenging and wrathful,” declares Nahum (1.1). “The LORD takes vengeance on His adversaries, and He reserves wrath for His enemies.” It is not for us, say the authors of the Old Testament, to implement judgment and revenge when we have suffered some loss or indignity. Governments have the responsibility to maintain a semblance of justice but we, as individual Christians, are told by the Lord Jesus to turn the other cheek and to go the extra mile, regardless of our rights under law.

James, the half-brother of Jesus, supports the principle of restraint while adding the positive quality of mercy. “For judgment will be merciless to one who has shown no mercy,” he states. “Mercy triumphs over judgment” (2.13). It may be against our nature - our sinful nature - to extend mercy to those who deserve judgment but it is to mercy that we are called.

It means we must overlook insults, forgive thoughtless actions, accept sufferings though being innocent, let go of our inclinations and cravings for personal justice. Positively, it requires us to exhibit “kindness or good will towards the miserable and the afflicted, joined with a desire to help them” (Thayer’s G-ELNT). It corresponds to the OT word hesed, and,

hesed means proper covenant behaviour, the solidarity which the partners in the covenant owe one another. The covenant may be between equals, or it may be made by one who is stronger than his partner in it. In either case it may result in one giving help to the other in his need. So the connotations of eleos meaning hesed may stretch from loyalty to a covenant to kindliness, mercy, pity.”

There is more to mercy than adopting or achieving a particular attitude: biblical mercy means action on the behalf of the other person. We have been recipients of Christ’s mercy, who, being without sin, died for us so that we might be spared the judgment of God upon our sin. We deserved death; our own death would have paid the penalty for our own sins but left us with no righteousness or merit to save us. Our own death is but a punishment, not a sacrifice.

Having received such mercy, how can we withhold it from others who are ultimately no different than us? They need that which they do not deserve, even as we have been granted that which we have not deserved. They need mercy, for God only knows what the end of the matter will be. Our part is to obey His command to love and to leave the outcome entirely up to him.

To extend mercy is superior to exercising judgment.

The words of Portia in The Merchant of Venice will provide us with a concluding thought:

The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute of God himself;
And earthly power doth then show like God’s
When mercy seasons justice.” - William Shakespeare



Namárië.