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Christian Mercy Explained & Enforced

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"The wisdom that descends from above is full of mercy and good fruits."
Matthew 5:7. Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.

The beatitudes with which our Lord commences his incomparable Sermon on the Mount, were intended to correct the errors which the Jews entertained as to the nature of his kingdom; and to exhibit to the world the leading features of the religion which he came to promulgate. Mistaking the spirit of prophecy, and interpreting literally the imagery by which, in the glowing style of Oriental composition, the writers of the Old Testament had described the person, reign, and success of Messiah—the Jews expected a mighty general, who at the head of victorious armies, would break the Roman yoke from their necks, and raise their nation into the proud pre-eminence of universal dominion.

If such expectations had been well-founded, it is evident that lofty ambition, militaristic courage, indignant contempt of others, unrelenting severity, and insatiable resentment would have been the prominent virtues of the disciple of Christ. The dispositions which I have just enumerated, formed, in fact, the popular characters of the age in which our Lord appeared, both among Jews and Gentiles. And indeed the 'hero' has been a far greater favorite than the 'saint' with the historian of every age and every country. The mild and passive virtues have few admirers—compared with those which appear invested with the dazzling splendor of state policy, restless ambition, and military prowess.

But 'the kingdom of Christ is not of this world'—a remark which will strictly apply to his subjects; and to delineate their character as well as to describe their blessedness—was the design of the beautiful discourse with which he opened his public ministry.

Instead of that proud consciousness of superiority which both the Jews and Gentiles entertained—the disciples of Christ would be characterized by a deep sense of their needs and imperfections, and the most unfeigned humility, "Blessed are the poor in spirit."

Instead of being mirthful, thoughtless and fickle, addicted to scenes of festivity and noisy mirth—they would be serious, thoughtful, and penitent, "Blessed are those who mourn."

Instead of entertaining that high sense of personal importance, which is quick to receive offence, and hasty to resent it—they would meekly bear injuries, and rather forgive than revenge them, "Blessed are the meek."

Instead of an insatiable thirst after conquest—they would ardently covet the victory over their own lusts and corruptions, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness."

Instead of delighting in the horrors of war, in order to gather the ensanguined laurel from the field of battle—they would be infinitely better pleased to sympathize with the sorrows of mankind, and relieve them, "Blessed are the merciful."

Instead of seeking their happiness in luxurious or sensual gratifications—they would find it in the growth of inward purity, "Blessed are the pure in heart."

Instead of fomenting and delighting in hostility, either domestic, social or national—they would sacrifice everything but principle, to restore harmony where it has been unfortunately lost, and to maintain it where it is possessed, "Blessed are the peacemakers."

Instead of coveting the gale of popular applause by sacrificing their convictions to the smiles of the world—they would endure its bitterest wrath rather than apostatize from the faith; and esteem themselves more happy in securing the crown of martyrdom than a high place in the verses of the poet, or the declamations of the orator, "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake."

Such is Christianity—as its Author has described and blessed it. Such is the model after which every Christian character ought to be formed. How far short of this we fall, I blush to think. It is high time we should return to first principles, and begin, as for the first time, to enquire in what true practical religion really consists. From this assemblage of holy graces I select for our present consideration the most useful of them all. My subject this evening is, Christian Mercy—in the discussion of which, I shall explain its nature, direct to its objects, enumerate its properties, unfold its reward, and urge its practice.

I. The NATURE of Christian Mercy. Mercy may be defined to be that benevolent sorrow which we feel at perceiving the sufferings or approaching calamities of others, connected with a desire to relieve them. The object of mercy is simple 'misery'—not according to some ethical writers as the effect of guilt—but as misery, without considering the cause which has produced it.

1. Mercy is that benevolent sorrow which we feel at perceiving the sufferings or approaching calamities of others. Without such a compassionate disposition, a man cannot be merciful. He may be liberal in the distribution of his wealth, but this may arise from ostentation, or may be an operation of self-righteousness. To the possession of the amiable and useful virtue of which I am now treating, a tender sympathizing heart is indispensably necessary. There must be a cord in the bosom vibrating to every note of woe, and where this exists in connection with a desire to relieve, there is mercy—even though the means of relief are not possessed. One may be destitute of mercy, while lavishing thousands; another may possess mercy in high perfection, and yet not have a dollar to bestow. Mercy begins in sympathy, although it does not end there. It is in the heart that mercy erects her throne; it is thence she issues her commands, and dispenses her favors—the senses and the bodily members are her servants; the gold and the silver are her means. But mercy never leaves the heart—for when she has left that she has departed from the character.

2. Mercy is always connected with a desire to relieve misery, and that this desire will always prompt to vigorous exertion.Right dispositions wherever they prevail in the heart, will always appear by their appropriate effects in the conduct. Dr. Hartley concisely defines compassion "to be that uneasiness which a man feels at sight of the misery of another," and mercy, if not synonymous with compassion, is so near akin to it, as to admit of a very similar definition. If the misery of another renders us uneasy, a regard to our own peace will make us either anxious to relieve it, or to avoid the sight of it; the latter is the case with the man who merely feels the sorrows of others, but has no genuine compassion; the former is the conduct of the merciful. Mercy is a passion—but it leads to action.

It is not mere sentimentalism, which sighs and weeps—yet does nothing more; like that of Sterne, which led him to shed tears on the sufferings of an expiring animal, but permitted him to leave his own mother in a state bordering on starvation. 'I feel for you' is a common reply to the tale of the sufferer; but unless that feeling be so far excited as to grant relief—it is not true compassion. James by an admirable association of ideas, has told us that the wisdom which comes from above is full of mercy and good fruits—evidently teaching us that this tender and beautiful grace of mercy, is never seen in its right character, but when in a state of fructification. And what are its fruits? Kind words? Sorrowful looks? Tears of pity? No! These are its blossoms, but substantial acts of kindness are the fruits which the 'hand of misery' is invited to pluck from this heavenly plant for its own relief.

We must renounce our claims to be a merciful person, unless there is a desire, and that desire be followed by vigorous exertion, to relieve the misery which has excited our sympathy. A person of mild and gracious manners, soft and compassionate language, who by this fair exterior awakens the hope of the wretched—but after all confines his bounty to mere words and looks—resembles the fig tree, which the Savior cursed, because it was covered with delusive foliage, yet was destitute of fruit to satisfy the hungry.


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