I have been pondering how to approach Lent in this Jubilee Year of Mercy given that Jesus calls us to be merciful like the Father (Lk 6:36) and that Pope Francis asked that we live this Lenten season “more intensely as a privileged moment to celebrate and experience God’s mercy” (Misericordiae Vultus). I recently read a profoundly poignant metaphor equating God’s mercy to the two reflection pools of the New York 9/11 Memorial where within each reflection pool a huge waterfall drops into the darkness of a lower pool whose bottom you cannot see:
“It struck me deeply as a metaphor for God: mercy eternally pouring into darkness, always filling an empty space…water always falls and pools up in the very lowest and darkest places, just like mercy does” (Richard Rohr, OFM).
God’s mercy, thankfully, infiltrates into the darkest corners of our lives, and since mercy was first shown to us, each of us is called to spread, to the deepest levels, “the balm of mercy” to all others (MV 5). As we begin our Lenten promises, many of us will treat “the Christ in others” through renewed efforts in living out the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. My contemplative practices have taught me, though, that to be successful at such efforts, to make this Lenten season assuredly transformational for ourselves and others, we need to become deeply present to all those we encounter – family, friends, and strangers.
Being genuinely present in body, mind, and heart, however, is not always so easy. Oftentimes, we hardly give our full attention to those with whom we are speaking, inescapably, it seems, distracted by the myriad of daily activities running through our minds. How often do we spend time with someone, but we are not really “there”? How regularly do we stop to reflect that the person we most dislike, or gets under our skin, is as equally loved by God as we are? How frequently do we ponder that God is amongst us and within us? Though we may not shun the sacramental presence of Christ, how often do we shun Christ’s presence through the people he places in our lives? Pope Francis engages all of us in stating, “It is time to return to the basics and to bear the weaknesses and struggles of our brothers and sisters” (MV 10). We all must attempt to go deeper than just the surface, to be undeniably present, to make possible the extension of mercy to others.
I was recently reintroduced to Jon Muth’s children’s book The Three Questions based on the short story of the same name by Leo Tolstoy. Rehearing that story after several years, reminded me of its profoundly simple message and its relevance to remaining present during this Lenten season. Striving to be the best person each can be, the king (in Tolstoy’s story) and Nikolai (the young boy in Muth’s rendition) ask three questions:
When is the best time to do things?
Who is the most important one?
What is the right thing to do?
As we embrace and firmly put into action the corporal and spiritual works of mercy, the answers to these three questions supplies our needed framework to remain deeply present to those we encounter – reaching their dark corners and enabling them to experience God’s mercy. When is the best time to do things? There is only one important time – Now. Who is the most important one? The most important one is always the one next to us at that moment. What is the right thing to do? The right thing to do is to do good for the one you are with at that instant. As we embark on carrying out the works of mercy this Lent, if we truly concentrate on doing them now, truly focus on who we come upon, and truly center on her or his particular need at that moment, our practical compassion will dive below the surface to those darkened corners and will shine as the mercy of God operating through us.
My God, open my eyes to your presence around me this Lent, and allow me to be deeply present in each moment, present to my brothers and sisters, present to their needs, and through my presence allow them to experience your mercy.
Fawn Waranauskas teaches spirituality for Saint Joseph’s College Online.