We can never exhaust the mercy of God, but how do we practice mercy in our own lives? In today’s reflection, Jon Schum considers the place of mercy in a world that often seems merciless.

October 12, 2025: Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
2 Kings 5:14–17
Psalm 98:1–4
2 Timothy 2:8–13
Luke 17:11–19

Mercy!

A reflection by Jon Schum

Today’s gospel is the familiar story of Jesus’ encounter with the ten lepers. Leprosy was an abhorrent disease. It did not matter if you were Jewish or Samaritan or foreigner: leprosy ultimately defined the very essence of being a person. Those with leprosy were isolated and prevented from entering towns and villages. Abandoned by their families, they had no political rights or religious privileges. Isolated and segregated, they would cry “unclean” should anyone approach them. These laws were binding on both women and men.

It is interesting that the lepers asked not for alms—which was customary—but for “mercy.” Some translations use the word “pity,” and some use “mercy.” I humbly offer that “mercy” is more appropriate. Pity is a feeling, an emotional response; it can be heartfelt but does not carry the same import as mercy. The lepers’ plea was “Jesus, have mercy on us!”

Peter was a member of our Dignity Boston community for many years. He was theologically astute and wanted to pursue a divinity degree but did not have the funds. He was very much at home in both the Episcopal Church and our Dignity chapter and was a weekly participant in our men’s spirituality group.

Peter had a trademark response to moments and events that evoked surprise or shock or profound displeasure. Most of us would respond “Oh my!” or “Yikes!” or some stronger expletive. Peter would simply say “Mercy!” Yes, that’s with an exclamation point. We didn’t need Peter to explain or interpret his response. But I think we all nodded quietly in approval that, yes, calling on mercy or for mercy doesn’t ever hurt. Peter’s “mercy!” was not merely an idiom, but an aspiration.

Mercy is God’s gracious gift. Gracious as in grace. A divine gift, given freely without cost or expectation. There are a variety of words for mercy throughout the Old and New Testaments. They variously mean or connote steadfast and dependable love, covenant love, rescuing or saving love. For instance, the Greek work eleos in Luke’s gospel can be translated as loving kindness or tender compassion. This same Greek word is in the plea of the ten lepers. By the way, Luke’s gospel is known as the “Gospel of Mercy.”

The radical response of Jesus to the lepers’ pleas is deeply rooted in mercy. The healing of the ten lepers is a remarkable revelation of the breadth of God’s mercy, which touches the untouchables. These broken bodies and desperate souls would be made whole through loving kindness and tender compassion. Such mercy knows no boundaries. While initially resistant, Naaman, the powerful commander of the Aramean army and an enemy of Israel, obeys the command of Elisha the prophet and washes seven times in the Jordan. Mercifully, Naaman is healed of the scourge of leprosy.

It is no accident that the Works of Mercy are called works. To give bread to the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to shelter the homeless, to visit the sick, to visit prisoners, to give alms to the poor, and to bury the dead all require committed effort and labor. Expressing pity can be thoughtful and prayerful. But mercy requires more. It requires heartfelt intention and engagement. Mercy is work. Mercy is a practice.

Mercy and Justice are sister virtues. The call and the cry for mercy should be loud and clear and constant in today’s tyrannical and cruel political climate. We witness policies and government overreach that are mercy-less. We are appalled and angry when vulnerable populations, including our own, are targets of violence and denied basic human decency and civil rights. How timely is the practice of mercy, and how necessary it is to model mercy! And how righteous it is to use our personal witness and communal voice to demand mercy.

St. Paul writes to his colleague Timothy from prison. Paul was a freeborn Roman citizen. What a humiliation it must have been to be mercilessly chained and treated as a criminal or captive. He considers his ordeal to be a sharing in the sufferings of Christ, actively participating in the dawning of the reign of God. His witness and labors rest on the dependable and steadfast love that is divine mercy. He offers what may have been the words of a hymn. He understands that to die with Christ is to live with Christ. To persevere is to reign with Christ. Christ remains ever faithful to us in spite of our wavering or our weakness. Paul declares that this is “his gospel.”

One of Thomas Merton’s favorite titles for God is “Mercy within mercy within mercy.” I think Merton is saying that we can never exhaust the mercy of God. God’s mercy is abundant and limitless. Jesus is divine mercy incarnate. So how do we practice mercy? We can go back to its biblical roots and practice mercy as loving kindness and tender compassion, offered and given freely and without expectation or repayment. Whenever we extend or receive mercy it bonds us more deeply to the human family and affirms the Reign of God among us. “Blessed are the merciful.”

And an occasional “Mercy!” spoken under our breath or out loud for the world to hear might not hurt.

Jon Schum and his husband Ron Lacro are longtime Dignity Boston members. Jon has served on its board and liturgy committee and is one of the chapter's ordained presiders. For many years he supervised and provided arts-based therapeutic programming for an elder services agency in Boston. He is currently a co-facilitator of the Aging with Dignity caucus and board member at DignityUSA.

‍