Mercy, Mercy: Luke 6:1-16 - Fourth Sunday after Epiphany

What’s a Pharisee but a hypocrite? That’s what the dictionary says: a “pharisee” (with a lower-case p) is “a sanctimonious, self-righteous, or hypocritical person”.

But it’s extremely unfair to paint the biblical Pharisees with such a broad stroke. Being a Pharisee did not automatically make you a hypocrite, any more than being a hypocrite automatically makes you a Pharisee.

The biblical Pharisees first came into being about two centuries before Christ’s birth. They were a reform movement that sought to resist Greek and Roman influence on Judaism. The name “Pharisee” means “separate ones,” meaning that their adherence to the Law of Moses and the traditions of the elders set them apart from their non-observant peers.

It is highly probable that the Jesus and his family were Pharisees. Or, at least, Jesus was surrounded by them as he grew up. Their power and influence on the Judaism of Jesus’s day was vast—which is why the sparks would always fly whenever Jesus challenged their authority.

Today’s reading is the first of many such incidents which will occur throughout the Gospel of Luke. The Pharisees accuse Jesus and his disciples of breaking the Sabbath because they saw them plucking heads of grain, rubbing them in their hands, and eating them. 

On another sabbath, Jesus was teaching in the synagogue when he observes a man with a withered right hand. Whether this was a birth defect or the result of some terrible accident, Luke doesn’t say. Either way, people would’ve seen his impairment as God’s way of punishing his parents. Or God punished him by maiming his hand. 

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Seeing the man, Jesus calls him up to stand beside him, and asks the Pharisees a simple question: “is it lawful to do good or to do harm on the Sabbath, to save life or to destroy it?” Jesus then tells the man to stretch out his hand, and it was restored. The scribes and Pharisees are enraged and talk about what they might do to Jesus.

In fairness to Jesus and his disciples, there is nothing in the Law of Moses that forbid people from plucking grain with their hands on the Sabbath, and it’s certainly not unlawful to “stretch out your hand.” But the purported Sabbath violations were just an excuse. The problem was that Jesus threatened the religious leaders’ power and authority by restoring the man’s hand.

The scribes and Pharisees saw it as their divine right to exercise authority over God’s people. They were entitled because they were holy men born into holy families. They were the experts on the Law and kept it to a T. Then Jesus came along and healed a man whom they believed God had cursed.

Their reaction to Jesus reflects our human tendency to take offense when mercy is extended to someone else who we believe didn’t deserve it.

We would all love to live in the world, and under a God, where everyone gets exactly what they deserve. The good are rewarded and the evildoers are punished, and everyone is responsible for their own life. Whenever you fall, you pick yourself back up. Whenever you do wrong, it’s up to you to make it right.

The problem with mercy is that it breaks all these rules. Someone gives you what you could not get for yourself, and not because you’ve earned it, but only because you need it. With no strings attached.

When you see someone receiving mercy, the sinner in you cries, “that’s not fair! That’s not right! Why should that person or those people get for free what I had to work for? Why do they get a free lunch when I had to pay for mine?

Truth is, we live in an unfair world. People things they don’t deserve all the time. The rich get richer. Cheaters win. Bad things happen to good people.

To be clear, mercy has nothing to do with excusing violence or enabling people to harm themselves or others. On the other hand, mercy has everything to do with not abandoning someone to their suffering or sin without any hope of redemption.

Put yourself in the shoes of the man with the withered hand. You can’t work. You have no spouse because nobody wanted to marry you because you can’t support them or children. The first thing people see when they look at you is your withered hand. To top it all off, holy men say that God has cursed you because of something you (or your parents) have done. This is your life, and there’s nothing you can do to change it. But then, Jesus tells you to stretch out your hand and it’s healed. Not because you asked. Not because you deserve it. But because of who Jesus is. Now, you have hope for the future. Now, you know that God is for you and was never against you.

That’s how Jesus works. That’s how mercy works. It’s a second chance. It’s a fresh start. And what is Sabbath anyway but time for you to rest in God’s mercy? A time to see Jesus for who he is? A time to embrace the transformed life he’s given you?

Once, you were the man with the withered hand. Once, you were robbed, beaten, and left for dead on the Jericho Road. Once, you were the woman people were ready to stone for her sin. (You may be such a person right now). Then, Jesus came along and saved you. Unending love. Amazing grace.

But to fully know God’s mercy means extending it to someone else. What’s God’s mercy worth to you if you withhold it from the neighbor in need? Don’t stop to ask if the person deserves it or if they will appreciate it. You see a need you can meet, then act. Remember that showing mercy won’t leave you empty. When mercy is shown in Jesus’s name, everyone is uplifted. Everyone sees Jesus. Evil gets defeated and love gains the upper hand.