Mercy, Not Sacrifice

This homeless Jesus has left a place for you to sit.

Be merciful to him or those in a similar situation, as

he is always merciful to you….

I have had enough of burnt-offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts; I do not delight in the blood of bulls, or of lambs, or of goats. (...) Trample my courts no more; bringing offerings is futile; incense is an abomination to me. (...) New moon and Sabbath and calling of convocation --- I cannot endure solemn assemblies with iniquity. (...) When you stretch out your hands, I will hide my eyes from you; even though you make many prayers, I will not listen. (...) Cease to do evil, learn to do good; seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow. (Isaiah 1:11-17)

For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt-offerings. (Hosea 6:6)

The prophets of the Old Testament were the right people for the right moments. Their voices and their oracles came from an analysis of the reality, the practical problems of the people, in the light of the word of God. The suggested solutions to the various problems and situations were of divine inspiration. These prophetic messages would always destabilize the existing “status quo” because very often the analyses were critical of the social structures and the way of life that had nothing to do with the will of God.

Religion that does not transform life is the opium of the people
Once there was a Muslim who ran after his enemy with a knife in his hand in order to kill him. As he was running, the Muslim heard the voice of the Muezzin at the top of the minaret of the nearby mosque calling the faithful to prayer. Suddenly he stopped his persecution, dropped his knife, spread his rug on the floor facing Mecca and began to pray. After finishing his prayer, he rolled up his rug, once again picked up his knife and continued his pursuit of the enemy.

This is just a caricature of how the practice of religion can become completely dissociated from real life. This same or similar situation can happen to many faithful in all religions. When Karl Marx said that “religion is the opium of the people”, he was probably referring to Christianity; however, what he said can be true of any religious tradition.

The churchgoers are the worst kind – says an old expression. In fact, we often observe that the practice of a religion’s prescribed rituals does not make its faithful better individuals; in many situations, they behave even worse than the atheists or agnostics. It is as if after having paid God dues with their practice of the religious precepts, the rest of their lives were no longer any of God’s business.

Mercy as the sacrifice of oneself
The prophets of ancient Israel were unanimous in condemning a life separated from religion and a religion separated from life; in other words, they condemned a cult or religious practice that could cohabit, condone and justify injustice and corruption. Therefore, in situations when it is not possible to have both justice and mercy together with sacrifice, if God had to choose, already from the Old Testament onwards, He has always preferred mercy to sacrifice.

Jesus reminded the Jews of his time that God, his Father who sent him, maintains this same choice when he tells them decisively: Go and learn what this means, “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.” (Matthew 9:13)

In preferring mercy to sacrifice, God is in no way rejecting sacrifices for He did not come to abolish the law but to perfect it. The sacrifice of His Son on the cross came to replace all the ancient sacrifices. In fact, at the very moment of Jesus’ death on the cross, the veil of the Temple to the Holy of Holies, was torn in two so as to say that the type of sacrifice of the old law has ended and the sacrifice of the new law has now begun.

The new law is the law of love, and for this reason, the worthy sacrifices are no longer those of lambs and goats but what Jesus said and put into practice, that there is no greater love than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. That is, it is no longer to give what I can and the rest I keep; nor it is to give things outside of myself, but rather it is the giving of my very self. Most of all, the sacrifice of my ego is what is most pleasing to God, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.”(Luke 9:23)

Be not surprised, sweet friends, of my furrowed brow, I live in peace with men and at war with my guts. This is the existential sacrifice of which the renowned Spanish poet, Antonio Machado, alludes to in this proverb: I battle with myself to be at peace with men, by sacrificing my instincts or basic tendencies such as anger, revenge, pride, selfishness, and even my thoughts; all this I sacrifice so to live in love and peace with my peers.

In preferring mercy to sacrifice, God is to have both things in one because there is no mercy that does not involve sacrifice; not the sacrifice of things that are mine but do not comprise me, but rather the sacrifice of my very self or a facet of my ego.

In the parable of the Good Samaritan, we see these two worlds colliding. The world of the old covenant as symbolized by the priest and the Levite who, obsessed by the sacrifice of the external things outside of themselves, passed by on the other side of human need without feeling compassion and the world of the new covenant as represented by the good Samaritan who, faced with human misery, answers with mercy by sacrificing himself for the half dead wretch, deliberately going out of his way and putting aside his life and his business.

This parable emphasizes the importance of how a religion that exists supposedly to make us more human can, in fact, do just the opposite. It was precisely their religion that emptied compassion from the hearts of these clergies and impeded them from saving the one who urgently needed their assistance.

The sacrifices of the old law, the sacrifices of things outside of me, might do me well but they only concern my person. The sacrifice of the new law, mercy or the sacrifice of myself is good for me as well as for others. With this in mind, to fast by keeping what I did not eat to be eaten later is a fast of the old law that perfected only me; to fast by giving what I have rationed to those who need it is a sacrifice of the new law, because it makes me a better person and at the same time puts me in solidarity with the poor and the marginalized.

Be perfect versus be merciful
Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect. (Matthew 5:48)
Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. (Luke 6:36)

What do I gain with the perfection of another person? Nothing. I could even suffer if that person uses his perfection and moral superiority to criticize or humiliate me. On the other hand, I have nothing to fear of the one who is merciful because faced with my misery he will be supportive and compassionate.

Christianity is not like Buddhism, a means of perfection and individual spiritual progress to belong to an alleged elite state of enlightenment. To reach perfection without taking into account others is not perfection at all. An individual improvement, that in some part of its process does not lead to the betterment of others and of the world in general, is negative because it will establish more social differences, and this will end up creating more injustice. In Christianity, my spiritual progress goes through social progress and vice versa.

In Christianity whenever you approach God, He always asks you like He did Cain, “Where is your brother?” and by responding, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” we all know is not the answer that God wants to hear from His children… (Genesis 4:9)

Fr. Jorge Amaro, IMC