Lord, Have Mercy

 

I keep watching the live news broadcasts from Iraq and thinking, “Lord, have mercy.” This morning I saw a church in Iraq filled with refugees seeking safety from religious war. My heart broke, yet I found hope in that devastating scene.

I doubt any of us reading these words have ever been involved in a religious war in which death was a very real possibility. None of us are being hunted down and killed for our religious beliefs. Our children are not being beheaded, then paraded on sticks. We cannot comprehend the cruelty and barbaric acts being inflicted on the people of Iraq right now.

But I have no doubt some of us reading these words are at risk of physical harm, whether inflicted by another or by our own hands. We may not be in a physical, religious war, but we are certainly in real battles. Abuse happens in different forms and at the hands of many.

Please don’t think I make these comparisons lightly. The religious persecution the people of Iraq are experiencing is heartwrenching. But as I saw the church filled with refugees this morning, I was filled with hope that the Church was a place of safety.

Lord have mercy, church, church in Iraq, religious persecution, church and grace, Rebekah GIlbert

We don’t face a militia group with guns and machetes. We don’t fear a religion that tells us to convert or die. We are not truly persecuted.

But many of us do face religious groups waving signs and membership contracts. We do face religions that kill people’s spirits for not agreeing to the same theology. Some of us do run from the church seeking refuge.

And in many ways, it’s petty and pales in comparison when we look at what’s happening around the world.

But I’m wondering if we even realize what the Church really is . . . what it really should be. I’m wondering if we look at the church in Iraq and think, “That, THAT, is church.” A place of refuge and safety from harm. A place for all who are seeking peace.

I can’t help but think about how unfair grace is. I can’t comprehend that God loves the militia member with the blood-drenched machete as much as he loves the children being slaughtered. I can’t comprehend that God loves the self-righteous sign holder as much as he loves the broken woman entering the abortion clinic. How unfair the grace and mercy that cover each of us.

Grace isn’t fair. Neither should the Church be.

Grace is incomprehensibly far above and beyond fair. So should the Church be. We should be bringing in the broken. We should be a place of peace. We should be indiscriminately welcoming. We should be weeping over the ridiculous wars we wage in the name of holy behavior.

Lord, have mercy on us for the petty religious stands we take that break people’s hearts. Have mercy on us for caring more about our theology than about people who are crying out for help. Have mercy on us for boosting a restaurant’s sales at the expense of shaming an entire group of people. Have mercy on us for being so caught up in our beliefs that loving people is just an afterthought. Have mercy on us for being proud of ourselves for being moral, upright people when we won’t even extend open arms to those who disagree with us. Have mercy on us when we turn our churches into barriers to love instead of bridges of grace. Have mercy on us for making our religion important when people around the world are simply trying to survive another day.

 

Did you like this? Share it:

Comments

  1. Lynn Morrissey says:

    It is a horrendous time for believers and just people everywhere. A powerful post on many levels. I would just differ with this point, Rebekah: If we really cared about true and right theology ( a heartfelt and passionate and accurage study of God), then we would care as much as He for the broken and torn for whom Christ died. The problem is not caring about theology, but in living it out so that we act like the God whom we have come to know and study.
    L.