What God Asks of Us Now

This has been a difficult week in Muscatine.

The tragic events on June 1st have left many people grieving, searching for answers, and struggling to make sense of what has happened. Some know the family involved. Others did not. But in a community like ours such a loss touches all of us. We carry sorrow for those who have died, compassion for those who mourn, and concern for the many people whose lives have been forever changed.

In moments like these, we often find ourselves asking what God expects from us. How should we respond? What does faithful living look like when the world feels broken?

This Sunday’s readings do not provide easy answers. Instead, they point us toward the kind of people God calls us to be in times of sorrow, uncertainty, and pain.

Through the prophet Hosea, God says, “I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice.” Centuries later, Jesus quotes those same words when religious leaders criticize him for sharing a meal with tax collectors and sinners. “Go and learn what this means,” Jesus tells them. “I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

At first glance, those words may sound surprising. After all, sacrifice was an important part of religious life in both Hosea’s day and Jesus’ day. But God’s concern was never simply about religious observance. God’s desire was always for transformed hearts.

God wants mercy more than perfection.

That is good news because none of us are perfect.

We do not always know the right thing to say to grieving neighbors. We do not always know how to respond to tragedy. We do not always have answers to difficult questions. Sometimes we feel helpless in the face of suffering.

But God does not ask us to be perfect.

God asks us to be merciful.

That does not mean pretending that evil is acceptable or that wounds do not matter. It does not mean excusing harmful actions or ignoring the need for justice. Some hurts run deep. Some betrayals leave scars. Some losses leave us angry, confused, and heartbroken.

Mercy is not the absence of accountability. Sometimes mercy means entrusting judgement to God rather than allowing bitterness to consume us. Sometimes it means establishing healthy boundaries. Sometimes it means walking away from what continues to cause harm. Sometimes it means praying for healing when forgiveness still feels far beyond our reach.

Mercy is choosing not to let anger have the final word. Mercy is sitting with someone who is hurting even when we cannot fix the problem. Mercy is listening before speaking. Mercy is seeing ourselves and others as people who stand in need of God’s grace.

That is exactly what Jesus does in this week’s Gospel.

Matthew was a tax collector, someone many people would have considered beyond the boundaries of respectable society. But Jesus saw more than Matthew’s reputation. He saw a person worthy of love, grace, and belonging.

Then Jesus sat down at a table surrounded by people others had written off. When questioned about it, Jesus responded that he came not for the righteous but for those in need of healing.

Notice that Jesus does not begin with condemnation. He begins with relationship.

He begins with mercy.

As Episcopalians, we understand that grace always comes first. Long before we get everything right, God reaches toward us. Long before we deserve it, God loves us. Long before we find our way, God comes searching for us.

That is the pattern of the Gospel.

And it is the pattern we are called to follow.

In a week marked by grief, perhaps the most faithful thing we can do is not to seek perfect answers but to practice mercy. We can pray for those who mourn. We can check on neighbors. We can listen with compassion. We can support one another. We can trust that God is present even when we cannot yet see how healing will come.

The world offers many opportunities for criticism, division, and blame.

Christ offers another way.

“I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”

May those words guide us this week. May they shape our conversations, our relationships, and our response to those who are hurting. And may we discover anew that God’s mercy is always greater than our fears, our failures, and even our deepest sorrows.

Kevin+