Mercy Not Sacrifice

Matthew 12:1–8

I have spent many fruitless hours agonizing over the "truth" behind so much of the incomprehensible details in my Bible. I've gone deep on original Greek translations, Hebrew double meanings, contextual background found in historic records, and on and on to Get To The Bottom Of This Thing. One particular night I went headfirst down an internet search rabbit hole comparing the various interpretations of salvation across the many sects of Christianity, hoping I might land on the correct answer and check that box. What I actually got was confusion, dismay, and a brand new fear of committing the sin of getting my religion wrong.

We all have our calling in life, and while I'm still learning what mine is, I can at least be sure it's not to earn a doctorate in Biblical Studies. The central theme of the Pharisees in the New Testament was missing the forest for the trees, and after all the time I invested in my self-earned diploma in Futility, I can actually relate to the Pharisees in this passage in Matthew. They were so neck-deep in doctrine that mercy had become unrecognizable to them, even standing right there in a grain field. Jesus quotes Hosea directly: "I desire mercy, not sacrifice." My real mission is simple.

Getting hung up on the arcana instead of reading the greater truth under every line binds my mind and spirit up from meditating on what God actually wants me to receive. When I finally closed Google and just considered the simple, abounding grace and mercy he has for me, I felt relief and peace. I felt receptive to the bountiful love God wants to pour out on me instead of fear. That mercy was apparently there the whole time, waiting for me to stop fretting long enough to notice it.

A prayer of St. Anselm

I do not endeavor, O Lord, to penetrate thy sublimity, for in no wise do I compare my understanding with that; but I long to understand in some degree thy truth, which my heart believes and loves. For I do not seek to understand that I may believe, but I believe in order to understand. Amen.

From my closed tab to yours,
Grace Sewell