There are a number of ways to describe a Christian life — it has a “form,” and it “looks like” something. Christians don’t blend in with or follow the crowd; they don’t automatically accept the conventional wisdom of the day without asking if it is compatible with their faith in Jesus; they don’t see Jesus as just one among many spiritual guides history has proposed.
Having accepted Jesus as Son of God, Savior of the world, and Lord, they realize that nothing can be the same for them, ever again. Their lives must look like — and be like — his.
One way of understanding what the life of a Christian looks like is to call to mind the spiritual and corporal works of mercy, which should become a lens through which we view everyone we encounter in the course of a day. They are well worth memorizing.
The spiritual works of mercy are: Instructing the ignorant, advising the doubtful, converting the sinner, comforting the sorrowful, forgiving injuries, bearing wrongs patiently, and praying for the living and the dead.
The corporal works of mercy are: feeding the hungry, giving drink to the thirsty, clothing the naked, sheltering the homeless, visiting the sick and imprisoned, and burying the dead. (See Matthew 25 and Tobit 1 and 2)
The works of mercy call us to focus our attention on others, to awaken our awareness of their spiritual, emotional, and physical needs. Christians do not wear blinders as we go through life but look for opportunities to love as Jesus loves. Having come face to face with Jesus’ mercy for us, we seek ways of sharing it with others.
But first we have to notice their plight.
When Jesus told the parable of the rich man (often called “Dives,” the Latin word for “rich”) and the poor Lazarus, one striking feature of the story stands out: it wasn’t simply that the rich man did not offer help to Lazarus, who lingered pitifully at his gate — he didn’t even notice Lazarus was there. (See Luke 16:19-31)
In other words, the life of a Christian doesn’t just “look like” Jesus. It also “sees like” Jesus.
The works of mercy begin in us when we open ourselves to those around us, when we look them in the eye, when we notice. We cannot remain unaffected when we expose ourselves to those in need, for they speak to us without words and call to the love of Jesus within us. Jesus wants to respond to them through us. Who else would he send to them but one of his disciples?
All young people preparing for the sacrament of confirmation are required to perform a certain number of “service hours” as a way of introducing them to the works of mercy. When they write their Confirmation letters to me, they frequently mention what filled those hours — visiting a nursing home, collecting food for the poor, providing babysitting during a parish function, etc. I am often moved by their description of how they were affected by this service.
At the same time, however, I sometimes wonder if we present the requirement for service hours as just that — a prerequisite for receiving something — and not as an introduction to the form the rest of their lives should take. To be perfectly honest, as long as we see such works of mercy as volunteer work added on to the rest of life, we will never truly “look like” or “see like” Jesus. The works of mercy are the framework of every Christian life. Far from being “add-ons” of volunteer hours worked into a busy schedule, they are the basic fabric into which the rest of life is interwoven.
There’s no doubt that volunteer work can be of immense help to those in need. But the works of mercy are essentially different. First, they are a recognition that because I am a Christian, those in need have a claim on me. Second, the works of mercy are the framework of every Christian life, and their purpose is to bring about an encounter with Jesus — I meet him in those in need, and they meet him in me.
Dives was rich with money, but God is “Dives in misericordia” — rich in mercy. His are the riches we share in the works of mercy. His are the riches that feed us and those who meet him in us.
In the next two columns, I will reflect on what the spiritual and corporal works of mercy might look like in practice.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.