Wednesdays with Words: Mercy

During our family devotions we've been reading about Joseph and his brothers.  Today's passage was the part where Jacob sends his sons back to Egypt, with Benjamin, to buy more food.  Before they leave, he prays that God would grant them mercy.  And He does.  So does their brother.  Instead of throwing them in prison or making them slaves, Joseph invites them over for lunch.

After reading the chapter, and giving the children a chance to tell the story back to me, we looked at the discussion points in Long Story Short.  The key idea for this passage was to make sure the kids knew what the word mercy means, and how it applies to Joseph's actions towards his brothers.  And how God shows mercy to us.

Mercy - 
The compassionate treatment of an offender.  Pity, clemency, forbearance.  The judge's power to pardon or to mitigate a sentence.

Lamentations is a disturbingly vivid poetic account of God punishing sin in the siege and destruction of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar.  In the middle of verses eloquently describing the physical and emotional agonies of starvation and war, Jeremiah throws out this:

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.  "The Lord is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him."

Even in the midst of horrors, we can have hope because we have confidence in the unfailing mercies of God towards his people.

God's mercy is amazing.  In Psalms, it is repeatedly linked to his steadfast love - the love that never changes or fails.  His mercy gives us life and keeps us from the destruction that our sins surely deserve.  The prophets tell us that God shows mercy to his people by limiting the extent and duration of their chastisement.  The sick and the blind come to Christ crying out for his mercy.  Paul tells us in Romans and Ephesians that the softening and quickening of our stone-dead hearts is an act of God's mercy.  

I kind of have a thing for old, semi-obscure hymns, and it is National Poetry Month, so here's another of my favorites:

Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,

The joy of my heart and the boast of my tongue;

Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,

Hath won my affections and bound my soul fast.

Without thy free mercy I could not live here.

My sin would reduce me to utter despair;

But, through thy free goodness, my spirits revive,

And he that first made me, still keeps me alive.

Thy mercy surpasses the sin of my heart,

Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart.

Dissolved by thy goodness, I fall to the ground

And weep to the praise of the mercy I found.

Thy mercy in Jesus exempts me from hell;

Its glories I'll sing, and its wonders I'll tell:

'Twas Jesus the friend, when he hung on the tree,

That opened the channel of mercy for me.

Great Father of mercies, thy goodness I own,

In the covenant love of thy crucified Son:

All praise to the Spirit, whose action divine

Seals mercy and pardon and righteousness mine.

- John Stocker, 1776

Thoughts on Dragons . . .

This is intended to be a blog about my home-school.  Some may wonder, "what does school have to do with dragons?"  The answer: Everything.  But maybe I should explain what I mean by that.

I stumbled across the following quote last summer, and it has been rattling around my brain ever since: 

"Fairy tales, then, are not responsible for producing in children fear, or any of the shapes of fear; fairy tales do not give the child the idea of the evil or the ugly; that is in the child already . . . Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon. Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him with a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors have a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear." - GK Chesterton, Tremendous Trifles (emphasis added)

The first reason I couldn't get this quote out of my head is that Mr. Chesterton summarized my thoughts on fairy tales (and, for that matter, great fantasy in general) much more eloquently than I ever could've put it. But the second reason that I couldn't forget it is because of the example he uses.  St. George is one of those stories that I know any good bookworm with an interest in history, religion, fantasy, and myth really ought to be familiar with (on about the same order as the Arthurian legends) and yet the only thing I knew about it a year ago was that a.) George fights a dragon, and b.) I really ought to become acquainted with Mr. Spenser at some point.  So . . . last September I tracked down a copy of Book I of The Faerie Queen.

It took a while to get through it.  (As in, 5 months.  sigh.  I miss the luxuries of high school, like having time to gobble up a good fantasy romp in a week.)  But taking it slow gave me plenty of time to ruminate over the whole thing.  Also, as it happened, the day after I finished reading the poem another mom on a forum I frequent asked some questions about this book.  I was still basking in that afterglow one experiences at the end of a great story, and couldn't help responding: 

"As far as the symbolism goes, each book in the Spencer's poem features a knight who is on some sort of quest, and each of those central knights represents a particular virtue. George (who Spencer simply calls "Redcross") is identified with Holiness.

"The idea is that only a pure and true knight can defeat the dragon, which is why Princess Una had to travel to the Fairy Queen's court to find her champion. But, as it turns out, George is not strong enough/good enough on his own, and throughout their journey he fails at a number of tests that are placed in his way. (Lust, Pride, Selfishness, etc.) It is only through the help of Una and Prince Arthur (a sort of Christ-figure who reoccurs in each of the six books) that he ever even meets the dragon. This litany of failures ends when he faces Despair, and is rescued from certain doom yet again by Una's intervention, after which she takes him to the House of Holiness. They spend several days there and Una introduces the knight to Humility, Reverence, Faith, Hope, Patience, and Charity. The sisters take him to meet the Hermit, who shows George a glimpse of a beautiful and far-off city - the New Jerusalem.

"It's only after these encounters that Redcross is ready to face the dragon, and even then he can't defeat it relying on his own strength, and Una cannot save him this time. Redcross comes to the end of himself, finds the Living Water and the Tree of Life, and finally defeats his adversary.
"It's a beautiful picture of spiritual warfare; of righteousness/holiness imparted through grace, rather than our own merit; and of God using broken vessels to achieve his purposes. In fact, it's explicitly stated (in the Living Water passage) that the dragon couldn't kill George because God was controlling the outcome."

It is beautiful, isn't it?  (Spenser's symbolism, that is.  Not my writing.  I have two preschoolers and 1-month old and this draft has been sitting in my "drafts" pile since mid-February.)  A servant-leader battles against (as Chesterton put it) "limitless terrors," placing his confidence not in his own strength, but in the grace and sovereignty of God.  Sometimes he has to fight what appears to be the same battle all day long, just to wake up the next morning and fight again.  But ultimately, good does triumph over evil.  It's a gorgeous story.

We all have battles to fight.  Maybe not in shiny armor and pointy swords, but that doesn't make them any less real.  Our adversaries may not look like dragons -  right now one of mine (laziness) happens to look like a pile of dirty dishes.  (Speaking of battles that have to be fought day after day after day . . .)  But just because they don't look terrible doesn't mean they aren't dangerous.

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his might. Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil.  For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace.  In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one; and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints,  and also for me, that words may be given to me in opening my mouth boldly to proclaim the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains, that I may declare it boldly, as I ought to speak. - Ephesians 6:10-20, ESV

This is what I want for my kids.  I want them to stand firm in the face of evil, secure in the knowledge of who God is and who they are in relationship to Him.

Now (ahem) . . . I have an appointment with the kitchen sink.