No. 136: Works of mercy

I’m fully aware that at the mention of anything approximating the topic of religion many shutter their eyes and ears and run for the hills. If they are not one of these, there are also those who tighten their belt straps, place their hands on their waist, and fill their chest with air to better exclaim their well-worn verbal barrage on the many wrongs of God, a barrage poorly aimed since no one really knows God thus their grievances must have to do humans who are very much known to fuck up. 

It’s curious to note these same types will approach almost any other topic with an open mind. Whereas an invisible God is a certain menace, a 19th-century philosopher from Germany must absolutely have something worthwhile to say. Each book, each movie, each song, each poem, each cultural moment — each worldly and material object — is a moment to extract some learning, which, true enough. Where they stray is not applying that logic to every work of human hands. The most recent critique from the New York Times columnist is a matter for deep contemplation, but ancient or modern texts relating in some way to God? By default, toss it.

I know this because I used to be of that category, a stupid and dumb and contradictory category. Regardless of what one believes, why not approach every text with the same openness of another? The only answer, I think, is fear, and we tolerate no cowardice in this house. 

But there lies an even more devastating blow to this already-contradictory world view: that much of what we might accept as safely secular is inextricably linked to the sacred.

This is highly inconvenient for the modern intellectual, which is why it generally goes wholly unacknowledged.

At the most basic level, nothing is new. Every stone is laid upon another, and the bulk of human history was laid with minds heavily occupied with God. To this, the rebuttal is: Sure, but no more — a new era dawns! The problem is, at a more nuanced level, many of the concepts, ideas, and institutions we live by were introduced by sacred texts or sacred models of living. To those who would reinvent these I have only to say: best of luck.

One of these underlying foundations of modern life is what the Catholic church calls Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy, a deeply fascinating and concrete list illustrating ideal ways of living.

But first, to illustrate my earlier point: If you went to public school, you probably remember The Golden Rule. It was plastered on posters in hallways and classrooms, an read: Treat others the way you want to be treated. This, of course, is a secularized and diluted form of: Forgive. And this is yet another diluted form of that most sacred concept of all: Love.

Thus, in a non-diluted way, whether you’re religious or not, the Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy are valuable to read, consider, and attempt to extract some meaning from. They deserve at least the same attention a college professor would give a masterful poet, because each of these stem from love, as all religious texts do, despite the actions of the mortal humans who purport to live by them. And to me, all that stems from love is good. Period. Anything else is noise.

Below are works of mercy, along with some of my takeaways from each. And please do not assume for millisecond I’m the paragon of these works. I fail to live up to most, if not all of them, everyday. But hey. I try. What else can we do but try.

Corporal Works of Mercy

1) Feed the hungry

If someone is hungry, give them food. Who are we if we see someone hungry, and pass them by? Who are we discredit a concept as simple as this, and by what logic? With each of these merciful works, it’s helpful to think of ourselves on the receiving end: If I were hungry, I’d hope someone would feed me.

2) Give water to the thirsty

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3) Clothe the naked

Giving the shirt off your back has become a cliché, but in all truthfulness, if we pass by someone without clothing, what else is there to do but undress and give them what we have? I heard another great saying once: If you have two shirts in your closet, one is yours, and the other his who has no shirt.

4) Shelter the homeless

Here’s where the rubber meets the road. Will you take someone in? Perhaps one of the reasons many religious texts and concepts are scoffed at today is because they’re extremely difficult. They actually demand something of us beyond pleasure. This is one to consider deeply. At the very least, we should do what we can to secure some kind of shelter for the homeless.

5) Visit the sick

When can you be of the most help? At the times when people need help, and friendly company, the most. 

6) Visit the imprisoned

This one likely triggers some amount of fear. Visit the imprisoned? Like, murders and such? But it’s this fear that we might attribute to the great alienation of the criminal and prisoner. If I view myself as one too scary and bad for contact with the law-abiding people, then one of those law-abiding people shows me love and respect? There is potential for transformation in that, I think. 

7) Bury the dead

Do what you can to dignify those whom we’ve lost. Be there for their families as they endure hardship. Be compassionate in the face of death.

Spiritual Works of Mercy

1) Instruct the ignorant

This one can be misinterpreted as an encouragement to be a self-righteous, know-it-all. That misses the point. Rather, I view this as something akin to “Live by example,” or “Don’t follow the crowd.” From another angle, be compassionate and patient with those who fail to understand, rather than writing them off as imbeciles unworthy of your time.

2) Counsel the doubtful

If someone asks, explain. To assume is to make an ass out of u and me.

3) Admonish sinners

The word admonish comes from the Latin admonēre meaning “to warn.” Warn those who are headed down a bad path. Don’t simply let them go thinking, “It’s their life,” “Live and let live,” “You do you.” 

4) Bear patiently those who wrong us

Put simply, some people are annoying, like the lady that was loudly talking during my entire four-hour flight home from Mexico. Don’t freak. Be patient. Grin and bear it. 

5) Forgive offenses

Forgiveness is probably the hardest thing for us social creatures to do, but the most transformational if we can manage it. My dude, let it go. Forgive those who’ve wronged you, as you’d want those you’ve wronged to forgive you. 

6) Comfort the afflicted

Those struggling with addiction, mental illness, or something else? Be there for them, no matter how frustrating it might be (see #4). To comfort is better than to abandon. 

7) Pray for the living and the dead

For those inclined to pray, don’t only pray for yourself, but for others. For those who aren’t, don’t think only of yourself, but of others. Humanity is a family, and we will only ever be happy by knowing this connectedness, and working together towards collective success. ♦

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