The Strength of Mercy – Psalm 37

Psalm 37 helps us answer this question. It begins with these words: “Do not fret because of the wicked, do not be envious of wrongdoers, for they will soon fade like the grass and wither like the green herb.”

Three times in this psalm, we hear the phrase do not fret. In Hebrew, the word translated as fret does not simply mean to worry—it means to burn with anger, to let resentment consume us.

How often do we do this? How often do we hold onto the wrongs done to us? How often do we replay the conversation, the betrayal, the injustice, letting it take up space in our hearts?

The psalmist is not telling us to ignore wrongdoing or pretend harm does not exist. Instead, he is showing us that when we let bitterness define us, we are the ones who suffer.

And Jesus takes this a step further.

He does not just say, “Let go of anger.” He says, “Love your enemies.” He does not just say, “Do not retaliate.” He says, “Bless those who curse you.” He does not just say, “Move on.” He says, “Do good to those who hate you.”

Personal Reflection – Local Pastors Lunch

On Thursday, I attended the newly re-formed Arlington Heights Ministerial Association monthly lunch. The main focus in this rebuilding period is to connect with one another, deepen relationships, and spend time with a scripture passage and prayer. This week, the Luke passage was our scripture, and the first question was, what in this passage do you find challenging?

That question made me pause and reflect. Then I found myself saying to my small group – everything about this passage is challenging for me. I shared that for many years of my life, this passage and others like it led me to stay in friendships and relationships that were harmful because I took it to mean that if I had to forgive, I also had to stay. I also shared about a time in my young adulthood in a different kind of church when I heard this passage quoted to encourage someone in an abusive relationship to stay because she was called to turn the other cheek.

It took me a long time, personally, to get to a better place with God and myself, to know that forgiveness does not mean permission, and praying for those who hurt does not mean allowing that hurt to continue. But I still wrestle with this passage. And I suspect I am not alone in that.

One of the pastors at my table wondered if perhaps Jesus was talking more about larger situations, as opposed to interpersonal relationships. That made me think of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., whose quote is on the bulletin cover. His life’s work was both about not accepting systems of harm and injustice while also choosing the path of nonviolence.

The Witness of Martin Luther King, Jr.

The quote on our bulletin cover is: “Love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.”

Dr. King did not say this lightly. He did not say it from a place of comfort or safety. He said it as a man who faced constant threats, who had been jailed, whose house had been bombed. He said it as someone who had every reason to retaliate—but instead chose the way of Christ.

On January 30, 1956, during the Montgomery Bus Boycott, Dr. King’s home was bombed while he was speaking at a nearby church. His wife, Coretta, and their infant daughter were inside but unharmed. When Dr. King returned home, he found an angry crowd gathered, many armed and ready to retaliate. Standing on his front porch, he urged them to put down their weapons and embrace love instead of vengeance. He said, “Don’t do anything panicky. Don’t get your weapons. If you have weapons, take them home. He who lives by the sword will perish by the sword. We are not advocating violence. We want to love our enemies.”

In that moment, he made a choice—not to ignore the reality of violence, but to stand firm in his conviction that love was the greater force. A choice to trust that love could do what hatred never could. A choice to walk the road of Jesus, even when it led through suffering.

The Story of a Cincinnati Family from my home Church

I have learned that this call to meet hate with love is not just a theoretical idea—it is something people I know have lived. There were members of my church where I grew up in Cincinnati who shared only in recent years that when they were new to the neighborhood, they had trouble buying a house. The realtor did everything to persuade them not to buy, but eventually, they were able.

Sometime in the first year they were there, the Ku Klux Klan, which was quite active in Cincinnati in the 1960s and 70s, burned a cross on their front lawn—a common method of intimidation to try and keep African Americans from living in areas that had largely white neighborhoods.

Fortunately, this couple stayed. They raised their family in that house, in our neighborhood, and they were part of the membership of my church, where strength was found in Jesus’ teaching to meet hate with love. They did not ignore the harm done to them, but they refused to let hate define them.

What This Means for Us

Jesus gives us a striking image at the end of the Luke passage: “A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

At first, this sounds like a promise of abundance. And in some ways, it is. But Jesus is not talking about material blessings—he is talking about the shape of our hearts.

The way we live, the way we love, the way we practice mercy—these things shape us.

I have learned that choosing love is not a one-time decision—it is a practice. It is a daily movement toward God’s mercy, a daily opening of our hearts to the possibility of transformation. It is the work of faith. And it is the calling we proclaim each Sunday in our church motto: Choose love, so we can be the light that changes the world.

Love does not erase pain, but it keeps pain from defining us. Love does not ignore injustice, but it refuses to answer injustice with more harm. Love does not make life easier, but it does make life deeper, richer, and more aligned with God’s dream for the world.

So we continue on this journey, choosing love, trusting that the light of God’s mercy is already at work within us, to help change us and the world.

In the name of our Creator, Christ, and Holy Spirit. Amen.