He chose to bear our sin, to become our sin, so that we may receive mercy. His nail-scarred hands and blood-stained brow testify that our penalty was not simply erased but was paid in full. Because of that payment, there is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Without his sacrifice, mercy would be unattainable, but because of it, we may now confidently approach the throne of grace, appealing for mercy on the merit of his work rather than our own.
There are moments in life that remain with you long after they’ve passed. These are benchmarks. Life-altering events that you could never forget, like the birth of a child or the loss of a loved one. Other times, they happen in your car on a normal Thursday on your way to work.
I can vividly remember pulling out of my driveway a few years ago, angry and frustrated. I’d lost my patience with my children, spoken too harshly to them, but I wasn’t upset with them in that moment. I was the problem. I would repent and apologize, as I had so often done in the past (and have plenty of times since). I was frustrated that I had once again succumbed to my flesh. I was beyond conviction, and had begun settling in the territory of shame. I didn’t feel as though I deserved my children’s forgiveness, much less God’s. But as I drove on, my hands wringing the steering wheel, the Lord began to call to mind my recent study of the life of David, a man who had faced more than his share of life-changing experiences.
There have been few people in history more admired than King David. He was the answer to his people’s prayers and the object of their admiration. He’d slayed the giant as a shepherd with nothing but stones. He’d evaded death at the hands of Saul with little more than cunning. He’d ruled over Israel with heartfelt compassion. And he’d worshiped his God with a humble heart.
But David was still a man, and as with all mankind, a war raged within him. Temptation crouched at his doorstep, and in weakness, he welcomed it in. Sin begets sin, and David’s adultery led to murder and lies and attempted cover-ups. Finally, after being confronted by the prophet Nathan, he bears his soul to God.
Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions. (Ps. 51:1)
The king goes on to confess the severity of his sin while appealing to God as the only source of deliverance, and that appeal is rooted in God’s abundant mercy. Of God’s magnificent attributes, there may be none more astonishing than his mercy toward sinners.
We tend to have a poor understanding of mercy, because it’s so difficult for our finite minds to grasp why an infinitely holy God would withhold punishment where it is justly due. Our propensity is to appreciate and even demand justice until our own case appears on the docket. My own impatience and anger are rooted in pride, a sinful response to recognizing I don’t have the control I so desperately desire. I can forgive myself the first time, but the fifth? The fifteenth? The hundredth? God, of course, is not like us. His very character, while perfectly just, is also exceedingly patient, gracious, and loving.